Posts Tagged ‘mystery’

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for One Take Jake: Last Call organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Jay Lang will award a $15 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

One Take Jake: Last Call

by Jay Lang

 

 

Genre: Mystery

Synopsis

Avenging the death of his sister, Lance, a once successful musician turned vigilante killer, has never denied his guilt…but knows now he could’ve handled things differently.

With dwindling hope after two years in the joint – and three life sentences ahead of him – Lance seizes his one opportunity for a life out of chains. With the help of loyal friends – straight-laced Reg and ex-druggie Jenny – Lance busts out of prison. He then begins his journey with Jenny to New York, where her street-wise Uncle Dusty will provide a safe hiding place, fake IDs, and a plan to get across the Mexican border.

However, it isn’t long before Jenny’s bad habits resurface, bringing heat on them both. They lose Dusty as an ally after he’s tortured by gangsters over money Jenny had supposedly stolen. In a strange country with Feds and gangsters on his tail, Lance is forced to lead the rapidly deteriorating journey south.

Just above the Mexican border, the two are cornered at a motel, their chances of survival slim. Still, Lance has hope. That is, until he learns the awful truth – a truth that leaves him alone in his final, desperate fight for freedom.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The warm Pacific wind rushes over my skin, drying beads of sweat formed in the hot Mexican sun. It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since Jenny passed away.

Darlene and I never did find The Pink Bar in Neuvo Laredo. Maybe it didn’t exist. But it all worked out in the end. I bought a little beach business here in Manzanillo, where I rent surf boards to tourists. Last I heard, Darlene hooked up with a Mexican biker and is probably raising hell somewhere south of the border.

In the evenings I pull out my guitar, sit by the Pacific, and play under an endless open sky. Life is good now, though sometimes I wake up breathless with my heart pounding from another bad dream, flashbacks of the horror show I went through while on the road with Jenny.

At times, I think the dreams are payback for the revenge I carried out on my sister’s attackers and the hell ride that followed. Recently, I read a powerful quote that rang true from a famous 17th century writer named Jeremy Taylor. “Revenge is like a rolling stone, which, when a man hath forced up a hill, will return upon him with a greater violence, and break those bones whose sinews gave it motion.”

There are moments when I feel my past will find me and, just like that, my freedom will be snatched away. But then, there are other days, when the winds are calm and the sea is peaceful, and I feel safe and untouchable. Hope is the one thing I hang on to. Hope for my future, and hope that somehow Karma will turn a blind eye and let me live out my days as a free man.

Tomorrow, Reg is coming in from Vancouver, and he’s bringing with him someone very special. Someone I finally got the balls to call. Tessa.

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About Author Jay Lang:

Jay Lang grew up on the ocean, splitting her time between Read Island and Vancouver Island before moving to Vancouver to work as a TV, film and commercial actress. Eventually she left the industry for a quieter life. She fell in love with creative writing and spends her days hiking and drawing inspiration for her writing from nature.

Amazon Author Page / Goodreads

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Conflict Of Interest organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Dean L. Hovey will award a $15 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Conflict Of Interest

by Dean L. Hovey

 

 

Genre: Mystery / Police Procedural

Synopsis

When the body of a missing cheerleader is found in a ditch, the local police turn the investigation over to the Pine County sheriff’s department, fearing that the girl’s relationship with the son of a local politician could compromise their objectivity.

Upon arriving at the scene, Sergeant CJ Jensen quickly finds herself embroiled in the politics of the girl’s murder and kidnapping. Calling in Pam Ryan to assist with the investigation, the two veteran officers dig into the girl’s obvious relationship with the politician’s son. While the boyfriend’s shaky alibi seems paper thin, their interviews with the victim’s friends have them questioning other aspects of her life.

A missing laptop computer piques their interest, making them think the murderer’s motive may be buried in her on-line activities.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

In addition to Floyd’s SUV, two Kanabec County Sheriff’s Department vehicles and an ambulance were parked on the narrow gravel road. The road disappeared into watery ditches on both sides, the washboard gravel surface spotted with mucky frost boils. CJ parked behind Floyd and announced her location to the dispatcher. She walked ahead to join the somber group of people gathered in front of the lead vehicle.

Bathed in headlights and flashing red and blues, an obese man with a gray crew cut waved his arms and swore. CJ found it disconcerting that the person apparently in charge would curse at the others like a madman. As CJ approached, Floyd put his hand on the man’s shoulder and pointed toward her. That ended the tirade.

“CJ, this is Sheriff Tim Sanders. Tim, this is Sergeant Jensen who’ll be taking over the investigation.”

The sheriff glared at CJ, taking her full measure before speaking. “It’s about time you got here. We’ve been standing around with thumbs up our butts for about two hours waiting for you to grace us with your presence.”

CJ froze, trying to frame a response. Floyd grabbed the sheriff by the arm and turned him away from CJ, then steered him to a spot apart from the gathered group. A man who appeared to be the senior deputy on the scene nodded and walked over, offering his hand.

“I’m Teddy and this is our newest deputy, Kayla. Please excuse the sheriff. He’s got a short fuse, especially when he’s been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.”

Although none of Floyd’s words were audible, his demeanor reminded CJ of a terrier growling at an overweight Labrador retriever. They watched as Floyd stuck his finger in the sheriff’s face and hissed something that obviously struck a nerve. The sheriff glanced at CJ, then back to Floyd before saying something that made Floyd nod.

A male and female EMT stood between the lead cruiser and the ambulance. Nodding toward the approaching sheriff, the male EMT whispered. “Uh oh, Teddy. Prepare to have your short hairs singed.”

The sheriff’s face was impassive until he walked up to CJ and extended his hand. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”

Gripping the sheriff’s hand firmly, CJ nodded. “I appreciate your apology.”

The sheriff, whose scalp glistened with sweat despite the cold air, jammed his hands in his pockets. “Tell Teddy and Kayla what you need, and they’ll do whatever they can to assist you. Do you want the ambulance crew to stay, or do you have other plans?”

“Assuming there’s no question the victim is past resuscitation, we’ll keep the ambulance crew to help with the lifting. I called the Duluth Medical Examiner.”

The sheriff’s face started to turn red. “We pay a retainer to the Midwest Medical Examiner’s office.”

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About Author Dean L. Hovey:

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Dean Hovey is a Minnesota-based author with three mystery series. He lives with his wife south of Duluth.

Dean’s award-winning* Pine County series follows sheriff’s deputies Floyd Swenson and Pam Ryan through this police procedural series.

Dean’s Whistling Pines books are humorous cozy mysteries centered on the residents of the Whistling Pines senior residence. The protagonist is Peter Rogers, the Whistling Pines recreation director.

In Dean’s latest series  his protagonist, a retired Minnesota policeman, is drafted into service as a National Park Service Investigator after a murder at a National Monument.

* “Family Trees: A Pine County Mystery” won the 2018 NEMBA award for best fiction.

Website

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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Lies and secrets pile up in this chilling next installment of Willow Rose’s bestselling series about FBI profiler Eva Rae Thomas.

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Rest in Peace

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An Eva Rae Thomas Mystery #15

by Willow Rose

Genre: Suspense, Thriller, Mystery

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Sarah Chapman is angry at her husband. She’s also drunk… very drunk as she drives down their street, ready to face him.

When a neighbor hears the commotion and rushes to help, he finds her inside, gun still in her hand, and her husband, Steven, dead in the bed.

Sarah is arrested and taken away but claims to be innocent.

The only one who believes her is FBI profiler, Eva Rae Thomas.
She knows Sarah personally, and as she looks at the evidence in the case, she is convinced that Sarah is telling the truth, even though she was highly intoxicated when the event occurred.

But the detective on the case is determined to have her convicted for the murder.

As more bodies turn up, only Eva Rae Thomas sees the connections and soon starts a race against time to prove Sarah is innocent and to catch the real murderer before it’s too late and her own family is targeted.

Lies and secrets pile up in this chilling next installment of Willow Rose’s bestselling series about FBI profiler Eva Rae Thomas.

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Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

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Willow Rose is a multi-million-copy best-selling Author and an ALL-star Author of more than 90 novels.

She has sold more than six million books that are translated into many languages.

Willow’s books are fast-paced, nail-biting pageturners with twists you won’t see coming.

That’s why her fans call her The Queen of Plot Twists.

Willow lives on Florida’s Space Coast with her kids, two cats and her Goldendoodle. When she is not writing or reading, you will find her surfing and watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

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Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Hidden Rooms by Kate Michaelson Banner

Hidden Rooms
by Kate Michaelson
April 22 – May 17, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
When murder hits home.

Long distance runner Riley has been fighting various bewildering symptoms for months, from vertigo to fainting spells. Worse, her doctors can’t tell her what’s wrong, leaving her to wonder if it’s stress or something more threatening. But when her brother’s fiancée is killed—and he becomes the prime suspect—Riley must prove his innocence, despite the toll on her health. As she reacquaints herself with the familiar houses and wild woods of her childhood, the secrets she uncovers take her on a trail to the real killer that leads right back to the very people she knows best and loves most. For readers who enjoy Deer Season by Erin Flanagan, All Good People Here by Ashley Flowers, and A Flicker in the Dark by Stacy Willingham.

Praise for Hidden Rooms:

“With a fresh voice and gorgeous writing, Hidden Rooms by Kate Michaelson is a stunning debut mystery that sweeps the reader along until the surprising conclusion.” ~ Connie Berry, USA Today bestselling author of the Kate Hamilton Mysteries

“This remarkable debut novel expertly combines a compelling mystery with a richly drawn cast of characters and a strong, beautifully portrayed sense of place. An engaging, gripping read.” ~ Andrew Welsh-Huggins, Shamus, Derringer, and International Thriller Writers award-nominated author

“Michaelson’s witty eye, sharp portrayal of illness, and twisty case make for a standout debut!” ~ Erin Flanagan, Edgar-Award winning author of Come with Me

Hidden Rooms is a suspenseful tale full of interesting characters. This well-told story with its unexpected ending will leave the readers begging for more.” ~ L. C. Hayden, award-winning author of the Bronson Thriller Series and the Aimee Brent Mystery Series

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery

Published by: CamCat Books Publication Date: April 30, 2024 Number of Pages: 320 ISBN: 9780744310153 (ISBN10: 0744310156)

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | CamCat Books

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MY REVIEW

Small town settings are perfect for a good mystery. It’s hard to keep a secret, but there’s always so many, even though most people have known each other all their lives. That saying comes to mind, “you can’t really ‘know’ someone.” Which proves all too true in Hidden Rooms.

Riley and her brother, Ethan are central to the story. When Beth’s body is discovered, law enforcement naturally looks to those who are closest to her as suspects. Ethan, being Beth’s fiancee, is suspect number one. Riley puts herself in the killer’s crosshairs when she begins her own investigation in hopes of clearing her brother’s name.

I enjoyed how easily the story flowed. How the author ‘showed’ me the town. How she gave me genuine characters. The fact that some struggled with chronic illness and substance abuse made them even more real. And as Riley got closer to figuring out who harmed Beth, the excitement picked up. There were so many suspects. I couldn’t rule anyone out. The reveal was quite a surprise. I really enjoyed this mystery and would happily read more of Kate Michaelson’s stories.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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I grew up inside a lightning bolt, in a family of pure momentum. My siblings and I were young, stupid, and fearless in our white gingerbread house, surrounded by dark earth, green shoots, and wild woods—untamed beasts running loose from morning to night. We snarled and bucked, more a pack than a family.

Born less than a year apart, my brother Ethan and I spent most of our lives scrapping after the same few things, pinching each other where we knew it would hurt the most. But we also protected each other. When Trevor Paltree shoved Ethan off the tall metal slide the first day of preschool, I kicked Trevor’s little ass, and I’d do it again.

Only, now, I didn’t know what protecting my brother looked like, though I felt fairly certain that kicking his fiancée’s ass was not it. Besides, I couldn’t even say what exactly Beth was up to, which (admittedly) undermined my argument. Putting my head down and going along with the wedding might feel cowardly, but it also seemed like the least destructive path forward. So, that’s how I found myself pulling up to Ethan and Beth’s house to pick up my puce monstrosity of a bridesmaid’s dress with Beth’s recent words still replaying in my mind: Riley, you know I’d never do anything to hurt Ethan. The problem was that she also once said with a wink and a smile that what Ethan didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. I parked in the shade of a lowlimbed oak and got out, lifting my hair off my neck to catch the breeze. The autumn sun had built throughout the afternoon into the kind of fleetingly gorgeous day that makes up for Ohio’s multitude of weather sins: one last warm postscript to summer. Rain loomed in the low shelf of clouds to the north. I crossed my fingers that it would hold off until I could get home to walk Bruno. Maybe I could even get a run in if my energy held out. My phone buzzed, and I knew without looking it would be Audra. She called most days and knew that just the previous night, I’d finally worked up the nerve to have a conversation with Ethan about Beth. She would want the details. I was amazed she had waited this long. “How’d it go with Ethan?” Her melodious voice skipped along briskly. People usually went with what she said simply because they were so swept up with how she said it. As her sister, I was an exception. “Hello to you too.” I continued toward the house but slowed my pace. “I’ll give you one guess how it went.” “Hello, dearest Riley. I guess he got mad.” “Not just mad. He guilt-tripped me. I asked him if he’d noticed anything wrong with Beth, and he acted all injured about it. He told me, ‘She thinks you’re her friend.’” I mimicked Ethan’s self-righteous tone. The jab still stung. “I told him I think of her as a friend too, which is how I know she’s hiding something.” Granted, I couldn’t untangle what it was. It was something I sensed more than saw—a shift in posture or flicker behind an expression. The past few weeks she’d become more self-contained than ever, which was saying something for her. “Yeah, but can you really be friends with someone who has no personality? It’s like being friends with a mannequin. I don’t know how you can tell if she’s hiding something when she never shares anything—” “Look, I can’t talk about it now.” I lowered my voice as I neared the house. “I’m at their place getting my dress. I’ll call you later.” I climbed the porch steps, the front of their house looking so Instagram-perfect that I wondered whether I’d been seeing problems that weren’t there. The afternoon light slanted across the pumpkins and yellow chrysanthemums that Beth had arranged just so. Dried bundles of corn rattled in the breeze. Beneath the pale-blue porch swing, Beth had set out a matching ceramic bowl full of kibble for Bibbs, the half-feral cat that had adopted her and Ethan. The only thing amiss was the open door of the old-fashioned cast-iron mailbox nestled amid the pumpkins and flowers. Beth would kill the mail carrier for ruining the ambiance. I grabbed the few pieces of mail in the box and shut the little door obligingly, like a good future sister-in-law. Careful not to disturb a precarious wreath of orange berries, I knocked on the screen door and tapped my foot, ready to grab my puffy dress and go. I had been a whirl of motion all day, zipping through work and crossing items off my to-do list. I worked for Wicks, an oversized candle company that sold overpriced candles. Today was my last day in the office before a trip to England to set up the IT network at our new British headquarters. For months, I’d been fighting some kind of long-term bug my doctors couldn’t figure out, but today I felt a glimmer of my former self, twitchy with energy and moving at a clip to get everything done. *** Excerpt from Hidden Rooms by Kate Michaelson. Copyright 2024 by Kate Michaelson. Reproduced with permission from CamCat Books. All rights reserved.

 

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About Author Kate Michaelson:

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Kate Michaelson

Growing up in rural Ohio, Kate Michaelson simultaneously developed a love of nature and a strong desire to live closer to a mall. Pursuing the latter, she attended Ohio State, where she studied English and Psychology. After earning her MFA in Creative Writing, Kate worked as a technical writer and taught English at St. Petersburg College in Florida and, later, at the University of Toledo in Ohio. Over the years, she has published academic articles, creative nonfiction, poetry, and short stories. Her debut novel, Hidden Rooms, follows a distance runner who returns to her rural Ohio hometown and must clear her brother of murdering his fiancée while also seeking answers to her own medical mystery. As someone with Lyme disease and dysautonomia, Kate’s writing uses humor and suspense to explore the experience of coping with chronic illness. Ultimately, she wants to portray the reality of the challenges that invisible disabilities pose while also demonstrating that “ability” is not a binary concept—that illness does not equal a loss of self or agency.

Kate enjoys traveling, hiking, and trying (fruitlessly) to tire out her Labrador mix. She works in curriculum design and holds a Ph.D. in Educational Psychology. She lives with her husband and pets in Toledo, Ohio, only ten minutes from a mall she now avoids whenever possible.

Catch Up With Kate Michaelson: www.KateMichaelson.com Goodreads Threads – @katemichaelsonwriter Instagram – @katemichaelsonwriter Twitter/X – @KateMichaelson3 Facebook

 

 

Tour Participants:

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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Book Details:

The Heaven Spot (A Novel) by Mary Frances Hill
Category:  Adult Fiction (18+),  296 pages
Genre: Thriller/Mystery
PublisherMary Frances Hill
Release date:  February 2024
Content Rating:  PG-13 + M:
The story is about a recovering opioid addict (previously a soccer mom from Virginia) who travels to Florida to solve her estranged daughter’s (a runaway’s) murder and to learn about the life her daughter was leading.

  1. There are curse words. The F-word is used once.
  2. There are no sex scenes, but the mom discovers that her daughter was sexually fluid and in relationships with a woman and an older man. (separately/not a throuple)
  3. There is no graphic violence.
  4. The novel does deal with mature themes like addiction, suicide, and adultery as well as grief, guilt, the power of friendship, and forgiveness. However, given the protagonist’s addiction issues, it can be a bit raw at times.

Book Description:

The Heaven Spot is a modern-day mystery set in Palm Beach, Florida, that depicts opioid addict Maggie Robert’s desperate attempt to come to terms with her estranged daughter, Lilly’s, murder.

When divorcée Maggie Roberts stumbles into her Virginia bookstore for the last time to close up shop, she expects the morning to be rough. The business failure is hers alone. She took all those opioids. She relapsed. She vows to stay clean and regroup. But as she packs up her books, two cops appear and inform her that her estranged daughter, Lilly, has died in West Palm Beach.

Heartbroken, Maggie heads to Florida to find out why Lilly passed and how she lived. But when she arrives in the Sunshine State, she barely recognizes the young woman in the morgue.

​Maggie doubts she’ll ever forgive herself for her past mistakes with Lilly but believes that if she remains local, she can push the detective to focus on Lilly’s case and learn about her daughter. But as she connects the dots, Maggie wonders the unthinkable—could she have played a part in Lilly’s death while relapsing and blackout-high? Can she live with herself if she did?

BUY THE BOOK:
Amazon 
​add to goodreads
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MY REVIEW

Character driven stories are among my favorite to read. Getting inside their heads. Being shown their past and the actions that brought them to the present. And being shown why they did what they did. Being compelled to like or not like them. To care about them. All of that makes for a story I can immerse myself in. Walk in their shoes for a few hours. And hope for a happy ending. Or at least some answers to my questions.

The author did all of that. And she made me feel so many feels. Sadness. Joy. Anger. Despair and disappointment. And hope. She made me care about someone it was hard to care about. She even managed to make me care about someone that was no longer alive. Made me see her as an active character in the story.  That’s some good storytelling.

4 STARS

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Interview with Author Mary Frances Hill:
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Question #1—Why do you choose to title your novel The Heaven Spot?

Answer—I opted to go with The Heaven Spot because the murder victim/ protagonist’s daughter is a graffiti artist, and “the heaven spot” is a graffiti term referring to the most dangerous place to paint a piece. Also, the protagonist, Maggie, travels to Palm Beach, Florida, to solve her daughter’s murder, and Palm Beach is a beautiful island. It’s like heaven.

Question #2—What inspired you to write this novel?

Answer—Just prior to writing The Heaven Spot, someone very dear to me passed away. I believe that experience led me to write a story centered on grief. My own experience with grief was very complicated. I wanted my protagonist’s feelings following the death of her estranged daughter to be even more conflicted. This is why I made my protagonist a soccer mom/ opioid addict. Writing coaches always say you should put your characters in horrific situations. I can’t imagine anything more horrific than losing your son or daughter when you are not in a good place with them because of the choices you’ve made.

Question #3—Your novel is set in the Palm Beach/West Palm Beach area. Have you been there?

Answer—Yes. I owned a vacation home in Palm Beach and spent five hot, glorious summers there swimming and walking on the beach. (We rented our place out during the busy winter tourist season.) I love Palm Beach Island and the surrounding areas. The wealth, mix of people, and glitzy, tropical environment lend themselves perfectly to a secret-filled mystery with lots of intrigue and drama. This is why I selected PBI for the setting of my novel.

Question #4—How long have you been writing?

Answer—I began writing when I stopped working as a therapist so I could be at home and raise my children. My children are adults now, so that was almost thirty years ago. I wanted to write what my children were reading, so I started with writing picture books. I progressed to middle-grade and YA novels. Finally, I graduated to mystery novels. I love writing mysteries, especially psychological mysteries. I suppose I’m still a therapist at heart.

Question #5—What is your next project?

Answer—I’m writing another psychological murder mystery with a female protagonist. This one is set in a church preschool in central New Jersey, and the protagonist is the preschool’s director. The story is based on an experience my mother had when she ran a preschool near Princeton in the 1980s. In my novel, one of the moms discovers that one of the preschool dads is the son of a mafia boss and that he’s changed his name and lifestyle in an attempt to distance himself from his famous Italian family. When a body is found in the local lake, rumors and accusations fly. Of course, everyone suspects the dad.

Question #6—Do you ever get writer’s block? What helps you overcome it?

Answer—I don’t get writer’s block in the sense that I can’t think of something to write about. I’m a pantser, meaning I write and don’t outline my first draft. So, I guess you could say that I write through my blocks. However, I sometimes get stuck during rewriting when I realize something is amiss with my plot. When this happens, I talk out the issue with my wonderful critique group friends. They’ve taught me that most plot problems have easy fixes. Getting out into the world, living my life, and taking a break from my keyboard generates tons of ideas and solutions for me, too.

Question #7—One of the main characters in your novel, The Heaven Spot, is a graffiti artist, and another owns an art gallery. Your previous novel, The Worm Man, was about an aspiring artist. Are you a professional artist?

Answer—No. I’m not even an amateur artist, but I love visiting art museums. Also, when I was growing up, my father worked as a music professor in the fine arts department at a university. We regularly had his artist coworkers over for dinner. I spent hours listening to them talk about their projects and lives. I loved their passion. In fiction, you need passionate characters to propel your story forward. That’s likely why I’ve leaned toward writing about artists.

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Meet Author Mary Frances Hill:

Mary Frances Hill was born in Lawrenceville, New Jersey. The daughter of a music professor and an elementary school teacher, Mary obtained a master’s degree in counseling psychology and worked as a therapist before raising two children. Though Mary currently lives in Southern California with her Russian Blue and Scottish Straight cats, her Pyredoodle puppy, her golfer husband, and her adult son and daughter, she spent many happy vacations at her house on Palm Beach Island—the setting of her most recent novel, The Heaven Spot. Mary is an avid dog walker and home renovator and loves binge-watching true crime documentaries and mysteries. Mary’s debut novel, The Worm Man, was published in 2022.

Connect with the author:   Website  ~  Goodreads 
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THE HEAVEN SPOT (a novel) Book Tour Giveaway

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the WHEN CICADAS CRY by Caroline Cleveland Blog Tour hosted by 
Rockstar Book Tours.

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Check out my review and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 

 

WHEN CICADAS CRY

by Caroline Cleveland

 

 

Pub. Date: May 7, 2024

Publisher: Union Square Co.

Formats: Paperback, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 336

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Find it: Goodreadshttps://books2read.com/WHEN-CICADAS-CRY 

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In this stunning debut by a South
Carolina attorney, Zach Stander, a lawyer with a past, and Addie Stone, his
indomitable detective and lover, find themselves entangled in secrets, lies,
and murder in a small Southern town.

A high-profile murder case—A white woman has been bludgeoned to death
with an altar cross in a rural church on Cicada Road in Walterboro, South
Carolina. Sam Jenkins, a Black man, is found covered in blood, kneeling over
the body. In a state already roiling with racial tension, this is not only a
murder case, but a powder keg.

A haunting cold case—Two young women are murdered on quiet Edisto Beach,
an hour southeast of Walterboro, and the killer disappears without a trace.
Thirty-four years later the mystery remains unsolved. Could there be a
connection to Stander’s case?

A killer who’s watching—Stander takes on Jenkins’s defense, but he’s up
against a formidable solicitor with powerful allies. Worse, his client is
hiding a bombshell secret. When Addie Stone reopens the cold case, she
discovers more long-buried secrets in this small town. Would someone kill again
to keep them?

Ideal for fans of mystery, suspense, and thrillers in the vein of Karin
Slaughter’s Pretty Girls and Stacy Willingham’s A
Flicker in the Dark
, as well as for readers who followed the high-profile
Murdaugh murder trial, held in the same small town as in When Cicadas
Cry
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MY REVIEW

There was so much that intrigued me about this book. The southern setting. The sensational murder case which created so much racial tension. A cold case that might tie into the recent one. And a killer watching as the small town imploded. It reminded me of the movie A Time To Kill.

The story is told from multiple points of view and I felt the author was right to do that. It helped me connect quickly with the characters and revealed why they had certain reactions and did what they did.

The story ebbed and flowed, kind of like the tide. There were moments where the excitement was palpable, and moments where the focus shifted to personal relationships and the past. I enjoyed all of it.

4 STARS

 

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About Author Caroline Cleveland:

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Caroline Cleveland is a labor and employment lawyer. A native South Carolinian, Caroline
grew up in the Lowcountry and earned her Juris Doctor degree from the
University of South Carolina School of Law in 1991. This is her first novel.

Website | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon 

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1 winner will receive a finished copy of WHEN CICADAS CRY, US Only.

Ends May 7th, midnight EST.

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

4/22/2024

@callistoscalling

IG Review

4/23/2024

Books and Zebras

IG Review

4/24/2024

@jaimes_mystical_library

IG Review

4/25/2024

Two Points of Interest

Review/IG Post

4/26/2024

Kim’s Book Reviews and Writing Aha’s

Review/IG Post

Week Two:

4/29/2024

The Book Critic

Review/IG Post

4/30/2024

Country Mamas With Kids

Review/IG Post

5/1/2024

ENCHANTED EXCURSE

Review/IG Post

5/2/2024

One More Exclamation

Review/IG Post

5/3/2024

FUONLYKNEW

Review

 

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Some Kind of Truth by Westley Smith Banner

SOME KIND OF TRUTH
by Westley Smith
April 8 – May 3, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A mysterious video. A cold case. A reporter hunting for answers to both.

Pittsburgh crime reporter, Steve James, returns home to find a mysterious package waiting outside his apartment door. At first, Steve fears the package could contain a deadly threat from a local mob boss pressuring him to retract his story, which helped put him behind bars. Instead, Steve finds a junior driver’s license belonging to Rebecca Ann Turner, a teenager who went missing from a party twenty-five years ago, and a USB flash drive containing a video of her murder. Horrified by the contents inside the package, Steve is determined to find out what happened to Rebecca and why someone dragged him into uncovering this mystery. But as Steve sifts through the clues and weaves his way around those trying to prevent him from exposing the truth, he continues to struggle with personal issues stemming from his time as a war correspondent in Afghanistan, where he was filmed being tortured and nearly executed by the Taliban, making what happened to Rebecca all the more personal.

Some Kind of Truth Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Thriller

Published by: Wicked House Publishing Publication Date: February 2, 2024 Number of Pages: 336 ISBN: 9781959798309 (ISBN10: 1959798308)

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

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MY REVIEW

Steve James never thought that monsters would once again enter his life. He thought his capture and torture by the Taliban while working as a war correspondent in Afghanistan gave him a get out of jail free card from all that. But when he finds a package left at his door containing a drivers license and a USB drive with images of a teenage girl who’d been missing for twenty five years, he must once again go on the hunt. It’s more than just a story to him.

Do you believe in monsters? You should. They’re real. They might be someone you know. Or someone you pass on the street. They look human. They act human. But it’s a glamour they wear so you won’t see the ugliness that is them. Yes, they’re homo sapiens. But they have no right to be called human. I’m a tough cookie. Don’t normally feel sick to my stomach when reading about these kind of monsters. But, the author’s writing wouldn’t let me look away. And knowing monster’s like the ones in this book are real. Are doing horrific things to people and still getting a good night sleep had a strong effect on me.

Steve, along with Amy, a young reporter, dive into the fray. They’re the unsung heroes. They’re the kind of people who hear a gunshot and run towards it while everyone else runs away. What they discover while investigating Rebecca’s disappearance should have made them run away. But, they entered the fray and faced plenty of danger. Unable to quit, even knowing they might not survive the case. I feared for them. I cheered for them. I cared for them.

There was no sugar coating of events in the story. The author put it all out there. Yes, I felt sick sometimes. But that made me eager to see how it all came together. Whether the monsters got their just desserts. And whether the characters I cared about were still alive when the dust settled.

A dark, disturbing story written just the way it should have been.

5 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
CHAPTER ONE
The package was marked…
ATT: STEVE JAMES of the PITTSBURGH TRIBUNE
…and wrapped in brown butcher’s paper as if it were a poor-man’s version of a Christmas present. Steve had received anonymous packages before, some with leads to run down, others with incriminating evidence from a source he was working with. However, this package had not been delivered to the Pittsburgh Tribune like it should have been. It was left outside his apartment door. Perplexed, Steve lifted the package, gingerly, from the floor. It was light and about six inches long by four inches wide. He shook it, but nothing moved inside. He had not been expecting a delivery, certainly not one to his home by an anonymous person. His guts tightened into an uncomfortable, disconcerting knot. Turning, he looked down the hallway, to where the back stairwell led out to the rear entrance of the apartment building. Sunlight shone through the single window at the end of the hall and cut a sharp blade-like angle of light onto the floor. Dust particles floated in the air as if recently disturbed – maybe by the deliverer of the package. Someone could have gotten into the building by the rear entrance, made their way up to Steve’s apartment, dropped the package by his door, and slipped back out before anyone noticed. He did not live in one of the new high-rises being built around Pittsburgh – apartments that came with all the security bells and whistles – but rather an old turn of the century building on the lower east side of Pittsburgh. The rent was cheap, and the landlord damn-near nonexistent, especially when it came to the safety and upkeep of the building. It was what Steve could afford on a reporter’s salary. He looked back at the parcel in his hands. The sense of unease continued to coil his stomach. Was he being targeted like reporters after 9/11, with anthrax-sealed packages delivered to their homes and offices? Possibly. The fact that his article “MOB IN PITTSBURGH” had helped put Anthony Palazzo, a local money launderer affiliated with the New York-based DeLuca Crime Organization, behind bars could have something to do with the mysterious package outside his door that afternoon. Again, he wondered what was inside and cautiously shook it, like a kid trying to figure out the present under the wrapping on their birthday. Nothing moved, nothing rattled inside. Steve knew he should leave the package alone; place it back on the floor where he found it, call the police, and have them look at it first. That was the smart thing to do. The right thing to do. There could be anything inside meant to bring him harm, especially nowadays, when reporters were being unfairly besieged for spreading false information to the public. Against his better judgment, Steve forced the apprehension away like a fly at a picnic, tucked the bundle under his left arm, fished his keys from his jacket pocket, and opened the apartment door. Once inside, he closed the door and peered through the peephole to the hallway. Still, the hall was empty, and no one passed by. Again, he felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle, and the hairs stand on end with nervousness. Why was the package left and what was inside? Steve wondered. Turning away from the door, he moved into the kitchen. He placed his laptop bag on the counter beside his keys, then removed a Zippo lighter and a pack of cigarettes and placed them beside the laptop bag. He put the brown package beside his things. It looked odd on the countertop, as if it were some evil present that had been left at his home – a gift from Satan himself. There was nothing out of the ordinary with its appearance. Other than the handwritten address, there were no other identifiable words or labels on the outside. Gooseflesh rose across Steve’s body. Whoever delivered the package knew who he was, where he worked, and where he lived. Normally, Steve had all large packages sent to the Tribune’s mailroom. He didn’t trust his landlord, Horace Baker. The slimeball charged an extra ten dollars a month to hold deliveries larger than what could fit into the small gold mailboxes in the lobby. He called it a ‘holding charge.’ Steve was sure it was illegal, a scheme to get more money from the tenants. Steve was not about to pay the extra money. He had heard stories from others in the building that when they received their packages some were opened, searched, and sometimes things were missing. Of course, Baker claimed it was how the parcels arrived. This particular package, sitting ominously on his countertop, should never have made it to his floor. Or maybe it IS from Palazzo, Steve thought. It could have been a scare tactic to get Steve to retract his story, setting Palazzo free from prison, while simultaneously clearing the DeLuca Family of any wrongdoing. For all Steve knew, there could be a small explosive inside the box, just big enough to rattle his cage but not kill him. Or, if they wanted to get the job over with, they could have laced it with anthrax, just like reporters received after 9/11. Yet, he wasn’t so sure Palazzo or the DeLuca Family were ready to make that kind of move against him. At the moment, Palazzo and the DeLuca Family were letting their mob lawyers handle the process through the courts with a defamation and source exposure lawsuit on Steve and the Pittsburgh Tribune. No, Steve was confident it was delivered by someone else. But who? And more importantly, why? He pulled a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey from the cupboard along with a small glass and poured himself a healthy snort. Just to quiet the demons, Steve thought bitterly, taking a swig. Just to quiet the demons. He studied the package while swirling the brown liquor around in the glass, knowing he should leave it alone and call the police. But intrigue was sinking its fangs into his mind, poisoning his thoughts with fantasies of what dwelled inside its dark recesses. Someone knew Steve well enough to know he could never leave a mystery alone. He thumbed one of the cigarettes out of the box, popped it into his mouth and lit it with the Zippo lighter. He inhaled deeply. Smoke filled his lungs. Calmed his nerves. Helped him think straight – so he thought. What’s inside? a shadowy voice spoke from the alcoves of Steve’s mind, pulling him from his reverie. He could not argue with this strange, archaic voice. He desperately wanted to know what was inside the package. Taking a long drag on the cigarette, he let the smoke out slowly between his teeth with a low sssss. What to do? What to do? There was only one thing to do. Setting the cigarette in the ashtray, Steve picked the package up. He felt that familiar chill of disquiet crawl over him, like cold skeleton fingers walking up his spine, vertebra by vertebra. “Enough of this guessing-game shit,” Steve said and tore the heavy brown paper away, exposing a white box underneath which resembled something a pastry would come in. The lid was sealed shut with a single piece of Scotch Tape. Steve knew no one would send him sweets – maybe anthrax, maybe a bomb, but certainly not sweets. In a career that spanned more than twenty years as a crime reporter for the Tribune, Steve had made more enemies, like Anthony Palazzo, than friends. Such was the life, he supposed. He peeled the Scotch Tape from the box and then lifted the lid slowly, as if a venomous snake were about to spring out and bury its sharp fangs into his face. With the box lid cracked, he peered inside. Instead of finding something harmful, the box contained a USB Flash Drive secured in white tissue paper. Two words were handwritten on the front of the flash drive in black magic marker:/p>
PLAY ME!
Steve frowned. Why would someone send him a flash drive anonymously? Did it have something to do with the Palazzo story he’d spent the better part of two years working on? Some missing information that would, without a shadow of a doubt, ensure that Palazzo stayed behind bars for the rest of his life? Or was it something unrelated? Steve didn’t know. Then he noticed the USB was not the only item inside the box. Tucked beside the flash drive was a small piece of white plastic. Removing the plastic from the box, Steve found it was about the size of a credit card and coated with a reddish-brown dirt. He rubbed his fingertips together feeling a gritty dust, like a fine sand. Turning the card over revealed it was a Pennsylvania Junior Driver’s License issued to a Rebecca Ann Turner of 428 Water Street, Abbottstown Pennsylvania. Her birthdate was 10/02/1982. The issue date on the card was 11/23/1998 — twenty-six years ago. The top right-hand corner, where the expiration date should have been, was broken, the plastic chipped away, forever lost to time, leaving a jagged edge that looked sharp enough to slice through flesh. The driver’s license photo of Rebecca Turner showed an attractive sixteen-year-old girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled with life. Her face was long, narrow, and innocent, holding the optimism of youth. Her beaming smile radiated from the picture, enhancing her natural beauty and charm. According to the driver’s license, Rebecca was born in 1982, which would make her forty-two years old now. But Steve got the sickening feeling that Rebecca did not live to see her forty-second birthday. He looked back to the flash drive resting inside the box. He was unsure how the driver’s license and the USB were connected, but he was certain they were, or they would not have been delivered together. What’s on the flash drive? Steve wondered anxiously. His heart began to race, and his palms grew moist with sweat. A horrible notion rushed through his mind that something awful had happened to Rebecca Turner, something the USB would ultimately reveal. “H-holy shit,” he said aloud; the shudder in his voice surprised him. Someone wants you to find out what happened to this young lady, Steve ol’ Boy, and expose the truth. Reaching for the cigarette in the ashtray, he brought it to his lips and inhaled. The smoke settled on his lungs with a comfortable bite that he relished. He looked back to the box; his eyes lingered on its contents. Possible scenarios played across his mind as to why someone would want him involved. But none of these thoughts made much sense at the moment. Steve took another drag and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. He had smoked it down to the filter as he often did; a haze of heavy, thick smoke hovered around the ceiling. He picked up the glass of whiskey and finished it in one swallow, and then poured himself another – three fingers worth this time. His mouth had gone bone dry, but he wasn’t sure another shot – even three fingers worth – would wet his whistle. The demons inside were growing, and Steve needed to calm them. Or, at least, he continued to tell himself that on a nightly basis. Warily, he lifted the USB from the box. Dare he view whatever was on it, or call the police and let them handle the situation? He shook the thought off. His reporter instinct had taken over. He needed to know what was on the USB, how it connected with the girl on the junior driver’s license, and why he was chosen to unravel this mystery before going to the police. *** Excerpt from Some Kind of Truth by Westley Smith. Copyright 2024 by Westley Smith. Reproduced with permission from Westley Smith. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Westley Smith:

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Westley Smith

Westley Smith had his first short story, Off to War, published when he was just sixteen. Recently, he has had short stories featured in On the Premise, Unveiling Nightmares, and Crystal Lake Entertainment. He was the runner-up contestant in the Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine’s “Mysterious Photograph Contest,” where his name was featured in the magazine. He sold his debut thriller, Some Kind of Truth, to Wicked House Publishing, it was released on February 2nd, 2024.

Catch Up With Westley Smith: Goodreads Instagram – @wsmithbooks Facebook – @westleysmith100

 

 

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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Never trouble Trouble, ‘til Trouble troubles you,

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for if you trouble Trouble, Trouble’s sure to trouble you.

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Hidden in the Shadows

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by A.D. Vancise

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Genre: Thriller, Suspense, Mystery

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“All I can ever think about is murdering her.” -C.B.

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Twenty-three-year-old Evie Day never dreamt she’d be back in Woodsville Arkansas, a small town in the

middle of nowhere, after having left five years earlier, but the death of her grandfather called for her

return. After discovering a photo from 1933 of a mysterious woman standing next to a tiny wooden box, a

strange vial of blood wrapped up in a handkerchief in the pocket of her grandfather’s overalls, and a key

hidden in his desk drawer that belongs to a secret safety deposit box, Evie is unwittingly thrown into a

world of evil where those closest to her are the ones to be the most feared and danger lurks around every

corner.


Hidden in the Shadows by A.D. Vancise shines a light on the darkness and reveals the underlying players

that have been hunting in plain sight.

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IMPORTANT NOTICE

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The survivors of satanic rituals and child trafficking inspired this book, along with a photo I found in my

grandfather’s family photos of a mysterious woman standing beside a tiny box. My grandfather died with

the real story of what happened. He was a police officer.

I knew I had to take this story down a dark path once I heard the victims’ stories and those who never

believed them. The killer’s POV is based on true testimonials of survivors. These horrific acts

happened and continue to happen to kids worldwide.

 

Having said that, I feel the importance of noting a trigger warning for intense graphic material such

as child trafficking, sadism, occult rituals, sexual and physical abuse, violence, and murder. If reading

this material evokes memories of or PTSD from abuse, please contact professionals or a safe person

immediately. This novel is in no way meant to sensualize or exploit these serious events. It requires

courage to read this story meant to bring awareness to these heinous acts and give a voice to the

children who no longer have one. It’s to shed light on a darkness that has plagued this world for far

too long. I am awed by all those who can receive this information and want to help the children. We

all need to give them a voice. Thank you for being brave enough to read this story.

 

Sincerely,

 

A.D. Vancise

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Reviews for Hidden In the Shadows

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“Writing with crisp efficiency, mordant wit, and bursts of searing terror, Vancise whets the novel’s escalating puzzles and portents with an edge of queasy uncertainty.” -Editors Pick, Booklife.

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“If you’re looking for a spine-tingling read that will leave you wondering who to trust, what dangers are lurking beneath the surface and when the next twist will come, then Hidden in the Shadows is the book for you.”-Booktrib.

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“Hidden in the Shadows by A. D. Vancise is a thrilling mystery that keeps readers in suspense from the first clue until the end.” – Five Stars. Literary Titan.

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“A.D. Vancise excels in crafting a dark, atmospheric story.” -D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

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“If you are a reader who is tired of reading the same old books that are lackluster and forgettable, then take a chance with this one…you will not be disappointed.” -The Red-Headed Book Lover.

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“The author vividly informs your mind’s eye.” – Five Stars. Readers’ Favorite.

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Dark, disturbing, and gripping.” -Five Stars. Bookview Review.

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A grim but exciting and compelling mystery even in its most disconcerting moments.” Kirkus Review.

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Amazon * B&N * Bookshop.org * Bookbub * Goodreads

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What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book? 

Research into a story depends on the type of story being written. My first book, for instance, didn’t require much research due to it being a semi-autobiography. I knew the story, the characters, the plot etc. I may have had to research medical terms or areas that my brother and his partner had visited as well as speak to Brad, my brother’s partner, about their experiences but that was the minimal research done for that book. This book, however, consisted of close to six months of straight research if not more.

 

Do you see writing as a career? 

I want to see writing as a career, I take it very seriously. Having said that though, my reason for writing is for the love of writing, first and foremost.

 

What do you think about the current publishing market? 

The current publishing market is difficult on many levels. I much prefer the hybrid model. This model isn’t a vanity press, there is quite a difference between the two. A hybrid publisher you still must pitch, and they do not accept all manuscripts for publishing. When your manuscript is accepted the author pays the publisher for structural editing, cover design, copy editing, interior design, and some promotion.

 

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre? 

I read and read and read again. This I believe should be the pattern of all writers. I learn a great deal from other authors both bad and good or what I like or dislike. Some paragraphs, I’ll read two or three times when they are exceptional. I’ll jot it down in a notebook as well making sure to mark it as someone else’s work because I also jot down ideas or sentences that come to me randomly or conversations between strangers and I don’t want to plagiarize. I read reviews of books I’ve read as well, good, and bad as this also provides great feedback as to what readers want or look for in a book. My favorite genre is and always has been thriller/mystery.

 

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why? 

I cannot write if it’s too silent around me. I know other authors isolate themselves, but I realized at university that I couldn’t concentrate when it was quiet. I need something to block out in order to focus, so the noisier the better. I often put on music or plant myself in the middle of a room with others watching TV.

 

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?

I never saw myself writing two books at once but here I am doing it now. I’m working on the sequel to Hidden in the Shadows and Memoirs from a Killer.

 

Pen or type writer or computer?

When I’m working on the story, I use a program called Scrivener on my computer. I find it’s the quickest way to get the words out. When they flow, they flow rapidly. I still enjoy pen to paper as I came from the era just before computers. We hand-wrote papers or typed them on a typewriter so I will keep a journal or notebooks that I prefer to handwrite.

 

Do you have any advice to offer for new authors? 

Advice to new authors read, read, read, and then read some more and in the genre, you’d like to write in. I hear people often say they want to write a book, but they don’t read. How do you expect to know what sells or what flows, works, or doesn’t work if you don’t read? I would also advise taking some writing courses to gain confidence. And write for the love of writing not because you want to get published. One more thing, you CAN do it, your story is important, WRITE it.

 

Describe your writing style. 

I would describe my writing style as atmospheric. I am a visual artist and I feel that helps in my creation of a scene but it’s a fine line, too much description and you lose the reader, not enough and you lose the reader I try to set the tone of the scene through atmosphere, smells, touch, and tastes. I want my readers to feel embedded in the scene as if they are right there in it.

 

What makes a good story? 

That depends on who is reading it. For me, a good story takes me on a journey. One with smells, textures, tastes, and with well-formed characters. What do I mean by well-formed characters? I want to know how they grew up, what friends they have or had and why, and what are their greatest fears, wants, or dislikes. A character doesn’t just enter a story at age 30 and has no background. For me, this is one of the most important things in a book. If I don’t care about a character, (good or bad) I’m not going to care what happens to them.

 

What is your writing process? For instance do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? 

Outlines, oh the one question that every writer gets asked. I do not work from one. I find them restrictive like I can’t sway from the outline. My creative process I would describe as a gypsy going wherever the wind blows. Haha. Not quite that carefree but I do like to be free to write what comes next. I typically know the beginning and the ending, but everything in between is yet to be seen. I live my life the same way.

Chapters? In my first book, I just wrote not worrying about the chapter breaks but in the second I did write in chapters. Sometimes the chapters merge or rearrange but the Scrivener program is great for editing as each chapter is isolated and can be moved by clicking and dragging. It’s a great program.

 

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I would say that I try to be original without trying to reinvent the wheel. My goal is to always give the reader what I think they want with some surprises. Truth or feeling real seems to be the most important trait for readers.

 

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

If I could tell my younger writing self something, it would be to stop worrying about what others think, stop doubting yourself, and write anyway.

 

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

How long it takes to write a book depends on the writer, research, and desire. My latest book took six months to write but was well over a year before being published. The current books have been over two years and still are not even halfway completed. Sometimes the words flow so quickly that you can’t type fast enough and sometimes it’s an empty canvas. I’ve heard of some writers taking ten years to complete something and some never do.  I find writer’s block to be a very real thing and when it happens, I just let it be. I’ll read and write in my journal or sometimes choose a topic so far removed from my current writing topic just to spark some ideas or flow.

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A D Vancise lives in Canada. When she’s not writing, she’s taking care of her three dogs, her cat, two ducks and some chickens. Her daughter is her inspiration for all things wonderful in the world.

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Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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The Eddie Shoes Mysteries by Elena Hartwell Banner

The Eddie Shoes Mysteries
by Elena Hartwell
March 18 – April 26, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

One Dead, Two to Go

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One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell Get Your Copy: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads

Book One in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series

Private Investigator Edwina “Eddie Shoes” Schultz’s most recent job has her parked outside a seedy Bellingham hotel, photographing her quarry as he kisses his mistress goodbye. This is the last anyone will see of the woman … alive. Her body is later found dumped in an abandoned building. Eddie’s client, Kendra Hallings, disappears soon after. Eddie hates to be stiffed for her fee, but she has to wonder if Kendra could be in trouble too. Or is she the killer? Eddie usually balks at matters requiring a gun, but before she knows it, she is knee-deep in dangerous company, spurred on by her card-counting adrenaline-junkie mother who has shown up on her doorstep fresh from the shenanigans that got her kicked out of Vegas. Chava is only sixteen years older than Eddie and sadly lacking in parenting skills. Her unique areas of expertise, however, prove to be helpful in ways Eddie can’t deny, making it hard to stop Chava from tagging along. Also investigating the homicide is Detective Chance Parker, new to Bellingham’s Major Crimes unit but no stranger to Eddie. Their history as a couple back in Seattle is one more kink in a chain of complications, making Eddie’s case more frustrating and perilous with each tick of the clock.

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Go HERE for my review.

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Two Heads are Deader Than One

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Two Heads are Deader Than One by Elena Hartwell Get Your Copy: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads

Book Two in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series

Private Investigator Eddie Shoes is enjoying a rare period of calm. She’s less lonely now that Chava, her card-counting mom from Vegas, is sharing her home. She also has a new companion, Franklin, a giant dog of curious ancestry. Hoping for a lucrative new case, Eddie instead finds herself taking on a less promising client: her best friend from her childhood in Spokane. Dakota has turned up in Bellingham, in jail, where she is being held on a weapons charge. Eddie reluctantly agrees not only to lend her friend money for bail but to also investigate who is stalking her. Soon after Dakota is freed, she disappears again, leaving Eddie to answer to the local cops, including her ex-boyfriend Chance Parker. Has Dakota been kidnapped? If not, why did she jump bail? What are Eddie’s business cards doing on the bodies of two murder victims? The key to these mysteries lies in Dakota and Eddie’s shared history, which ended when Eddie left home after high school. As a person of interest in both murder cases, Eddie is forced to go in search of the truth, digging into the past and facing her own demons.

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Go HERE for my review.

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Three Strikes, You’re Dead

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Three Strikes, You’re Dead by Elena Hartwell Get Your Copy: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads

Book Three in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series

Private investigator Eddie Shoes heads to a resort outside Leavenworth, Washington, for a mother-daughter getaway weekend. Eddie’s mother, Chava, wants to celebrate her new job at a casino by footing the bill for the two of them, and who is Eddie to say no? On the first morning, Eddie goes on an easy solo hike, and a few hours later, stumbles over a makeshift campsite and a gravely injured man. A forest fire breaks out and she struggles to save him before the flames overcome them both. Before succumbing to his injuries, the man hands her a valuable object. He tells her his daughter is missing and begs for help. Is Eddie now working for a dead man? Eddie wakes in the hospital to find both her parents have arrived on the scene. Will Eddie’s card-counting mother and mob-connected father help or hinder the investigation? The police search in vain for a body. How will Eddie find the missing girl with only Eddie’s memory of the man’s face and a photo of his daughter to go on?

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MY REVIEW

You can’t help but love Eddie Shoes. She’s a tough gal and a now seasoned private investigator who has to juggle her eccentric mother, Chava, who’s always butting her nose into Eddie’s business, along with a mob connected father that tries to protect his daughter but his connections make being near him a questionable risk.

A relaxing weekend at a resort with her mother becomes a new case, or two, for Eddie when she rescues a man from a forest fire. As the man is dying he asks Eddie to find his missing daughter. With very little to go on, she’ll have to draw on all of her investigative skills to solve both cases.

What I enjoy so much about this series is the characters. Eddie is a tough cookie but also vulnerable.  Her mother, Chava, is a hoot. Another tough cookie but a bit on the zany side. And her father, who she’s just coming to really know, is a bit intimidating but also wants to be a part of Eddie’s life. These three make for some funny character dynamics.

The mystery is convoluted. Not easily solved. And I must have missed some bread crumbs as the final reveal caught me by surprise.

Fans of cozies with colorful character’s will enjoy this series. You could read this without having read the first books. The author drops some bones so you have an idea where everyone stands. But I’d recommend you start at the beginning and fully connect with these characters. You’ll catch up on all the fun that way.

I sure had a rip roaring time with this newest Eddie Shoes mystery. You can count me in for the next one!

5 STARS

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Praise for The Eddie Shoes Mysteries:

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ONE DEAD TWO TO GO is a well-written fast-paced story that kept me fully engaged from beginning to end. It’s one of those stories where you get to the end of a chapter and think, “Okay, just a few more pages.” And the next thing you know, you’ve read three more chapters.” ~ Mayor Sonni, Readeropolis “…an engaging mystery that will keep you stumped to the very end.” ~ Susan Sewell, Readers’ Favorite THREE STRIKES, YOU’RE DEAD gives us another vivid adventure with the quirky, genuine private eye Eddie Shoes. As usual, author Elena Hartwell’s characters are so real you feel like you could run into them at your local dive bar. Three Strikes takes us even deeper into Eddie’s complex family relationships with her charming-but-deadly father Eduardo and hilarious mom Chava, giving us further insight into Eddie’s psyche. The laugh-out-loud moments are many in this vital third installment, and you’ll find yourself wishing you could stay longer in the world of Eddie Shoes.” ~ LS Hawker, USA Today bestselling author

 

Book Details:

Genre: Private Eye Mystery

Published by: Open Road Media, March 2024

Series Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

.

Read an excerpt from One Dead, Two to Go:
CHAPTER ONE
Call me Eddie Shoes. Not a very feminine moniker, but it suits me. My father’s name was Eduardo Zapata. In a fit of nostalgia, my mother Chava named me Edwina Zapata Schultz, even though by the time I was born she hadn’t seen my father in seven months. Edwina was a mouthful to saddle any child with, so at the ripe old age of six, I announced that I would only answer to Eddie. I didn’t have any nostalgia for a guy I’d never met, so Zapata just seemed like a name no one ever spelled right the first time. Chava wasn’t particularly maternal in any conventional sense, so not a lot of nostalgia for Schultz either. At eighteen I legally changed my name to Eddie Shoes. It said a lot about my sense of humor. Chava and I had come to an understanding. She stayed in my life as long as our contact was minimal and primarily over email. It was just enough to allay her guilt and not enough to make me crazy, so it worked for both of us. She’d always been down about my choice of career, but what did she expect from a girl who called herself Eddie Shoes? If I hadn’t become a private investigator, I probably would have been a bookie, so she should have been a little more positive about the whole thing. My career was the reason I sat hunkered in the car, in the dark, halfway down the block from a tacky hotel, clutching a digital camera and zoom lens, waiting to catch my latest client’s husband with a woman not his wife. I’d already gotten a few choice shots of the guy entering the room, but he’d gone in alone and no one else had arrived. I assumed the other woman was already waiting for him. After tailing the guy for a few days, I had a pretty good guess who the chippie would turn out to be. I didn’t think he’d hired his “office manager” for her filing skills, and sleeping with the married boss was a cliché because it happened all the time. I could already prove the man a liar. He’d told his wife he played poker with the boys on Wednesday nights, and I didn’t think he was shacked up in this dive with three of his closest buddies, unless he was kinkier than I imagined. But then, people never ceased to amaze me. December in Bellingham, Washington, often brought cold, clear weather and that night was no exception. Starting the engine to warm up sounded tempting, but I didn’t want anyone to notice me sitting there. Nice it wasn’t raining, but if the thermometer had crept much over twenty, I hadn’t noticed. To make matters worse, I’d scrunched my almost six-foot frame down in the driver’s seat for more than two hours. Even with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I was half frozen, and desperately hoped my mark didn’t have more stamina than I’d pegged him for. All I wanted was to go home and go to bed. And at some point, I would need to pee. Up on the second floor, the door of the hotel room I had my eye on finally opened. I brought my camera up, ready for the money shots. My earlier pics proved that the dirty white stucco on the side of the building bounced the pale glow from the minimal exterior lights enough for pictures to be clear without a flash. Even from this distance, there was a nice unobstructed view of the location. The only barrier between someone standing on the narrow walk and my camera lens was a flimsy, rusty-looking, wrought-iron railing. The balusters looked too thin to stop anyone from falling the height of the first floor to the asphalt parking lot below. I doubted anything at the tawdry place passed code. But what did I care? I wasn’t going to stay there. The “liar”—I have always been creative with nicknames—stepped out, straightening his tie. I snapped a few pictures and held my breath, hoping the other woman would come out behind him. Even if I took pictures of her exiting a few minutes later, the husband needed to be in the picture with her. A surprising number of wives would argue with me about what actually took place in these various, if interchangeable, hotel rooms. For some reason they would rather believe the info about their husband cheating was fake than admit he strayed, which confused me because I got paid either way. It felt especially crazy when they must already know the truth, otherwise they wouldn’t have hired me in the first place. But I knew better than to look for logic in the ways of the human heart and got the best evidence possible. The man turned sideways. Light from the room behind him threw his face into silhouette. He had an exceptionally generous head of hair, which made him very recognizable even in bad light. Mid-forties, and mostly in good shape, he appeared athletic as long as he didn’t unbutton his sport coat. I could see why women were attracted to him, though he didn’t do a thing for me. I preferred men a little more honest. But then, I’d never been married, so what did I know? A figure moved from behind him into the shadow of the doorway. “Come on, honey, step out into the light.” I held the camera to my eye. “One more step, so I can see your face.” The woman obliged by leaning into the cold blue glow cast by the old style, energy inefficient streetlights, her cheeks stained red in the flash of the vacancy sign. I happily clicked away as the “office manager” wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. She clearly wore nothing but lingerie. She must assume no one else would be out this late on such a cold weeknight. Or maybe she enjoyed having people see her, a bit of an exhibitionist in the happy homewrecker. Whatever the cause, she had him in the perfect spot for the best pictures. I loved it when guilty people made my job easy. My photos might not be art, but they were gold in my book. No way the wife could believe this was anything other than what it looked like. Several photos later, the husband extricated himself from the mistress and she ducked back into the room and closed the door. He walked briskly toward a shiny red Chevy Camaro. The guy owned a GM dealership and drove a new car every day. He lit a cigarette, which he puffed on for a few drags before he tossed it into the gutter. Not just a cheater, a litterer. The bastard. The cigarette stench backed his poker party story and covered the smell of another woman, killing two birds with one cancer-causing stone. As soon as he pulled out onto the street, I stretched back up to full height, relieved to still feel my feet. I started up my ancient green Subaru Forrester, cranked my heater, and headed for home, relieved I didn’t have to wait around in the cold for the mistress to reappear. Whatever she did next wasn’t my concern. Having the two of them in the pictures together convinced me my work was done. The hotel was located downtown—the blue-collar north end, not the high-priced, brick, historical south end, so I dropped down to Lakeway Drive, scooted under the freeway, and wound through the streets that curved around Bayview Cemetery. Traffic at ten o’clock on a midweek winter night was light, and I arrived at my little house by ten-thirty. I downloaded the photos from the hotel onto my computer, wrote up a final bill for my client, and went to bed content. What could possibly go wrong with such an easy case? *** Excerpt from One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell. Copyright 2024 by Elena Hartwell. Reproduced with permission from Elena Hartwell. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Elena Hartwell:

.

Elena Hartwell

Elena Hartwell spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com. Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, Jasper, Radar, and Diggy, their dogs Polar and Wyatt, and their cats Coal Train and Cocoa. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia. She also writes as Elena Taylor, to learn more visit www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com

Catch Up With Elena Hartwell: www.ElenaHartwell.com TheMysteryOfWriting.com Goodreads BookBub – @elenahartwell Instagram – @elenataylorauthor Twitter/X – @Elena_TaylorAut Facebook – @ElenaTaylorAuthor

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!  

 

Don’t Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Elena Hartwell. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

The Eddie Shoes Mysteries by Elena Hartwell Banner

The Eddie Shoes Mysteries
by Elena Hartwell
March 18 – April 26, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

One Dead, Two to Go

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One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell Get Your Copy: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads

Book One in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series

Private Investigator Edwina “Eddie Shoes” Schultz’s most recent job has her parked outside a seedy Bellingham hotel, photographing her quarry as he kisses his mistress goodbye. This is the last anyone will see of the woman … alive. Her body is later found dumped in an abandoned building. Eddie’s client, Kendra Hallings, disappears soon after. Eddie hates to be stiffed for her fee, but she has to wonder if Kendra could be in trouble too. Or is she the killer? Eddie usually balks at matters requiring a gun, but before she knows it, she is knee-deep in dangerous company, spurred on by her card-counting adrenaline-junkie mother who has shown up on her doorstep fresh from the shenanigans that got her kicked out of Vegas. Chava is only sixteen years older than Eddie and sadly lacking in parenting skills. Her unique areas of expertise, however, prove to be helpful in ways Eddie can’t deny, making it hard to stop Chava from tagging along. Also investigating the homicide is Detective Chance Parker, new to Bellingham’s Major Crimes unit but no stranger to Eddie. Their history as a couple back in Seattle is one more kink in a chain of complications, making Eddie’s case more frustrating and perilous with each tick of the clock.

Go HERE for my review.

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Two Heads are Deader Than One

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Two Heads are Deader Than One by Elena Hartwell Get Your Copy: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads

Book Two in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series

Private Investigator Eddie Shoes is enjoying a rare period of calm. She’s less lonely now that Chava, her card-counting mom from Vegas, is sharing her home. She also has a new companion, Franklin, a giant dog of curious ancestry. Hoping for a lucrative new case, Eddie instead finds herself taking on a less promising client: her best friend from her childhood in Spokane. Dakota has turned up in Bellingham, in jail, where she is being held on a weapons charge. Eddie reluctantly agrees not only to lend her friend money for bail but to also investigate who is stalking her. Soon after Dakota is freed, she disappears again, leaving Eddie to answer to the local cops, including her ex-boyfriend Chance Parker. Has Dakota been kidnapped? If not, why did she jump bail? What are Eddie’s business cards doing on the bodies of two murder victims? The key to these mysteries lies in Dakota and Eddie’s shared history, which ended when Eddie left home after high school. As a person of interest in both murder cases, Eddie is forced to go in search of the truth, digging into the past and facing her own demons.

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MY REVIEW

This is the second book in the series. It’s easy to jump in here if you haven’t read the first book. The author fills in the important details easily and in the right places so as not to slow down the story.

Things have been good for Eddie Shoes. While her P.I. business isn’t booming, it’s keeping a roof over her head. And she’s now got two roommates. Her mother, Chava, and Franklin, the Irish Wolfhound/Tibetan Mastiff dog that had adopted Eddie after saving her from drowning. Keeps things interesting.

Eddie’s past comes back to haunt her when her best friend from highschool, Dakota Fontaine, enters her life once again, needing to be bailed out of jail. Why she’s calling Eddie and what shes’ doing in Bellingham is a mystery soon to be revealed. As bodies start popping up and someone is pointing the finger at Eddie, she scrambles to clear her name and get to the truth. The thing is, when Dakota’s lips are moving, she’s usually lying or trying to make herself look better, so Eddie will have to do some serious sleuthing.

The more I read about Eddie, the more I like her. She’s strong willed and confident in most things, but she has a soft spot for those she’s loyal to and that makes her vulnerable. She also seems to always find trouble, which makes her stories funny and exciting.

Her old flame , Detective Chance Parker is still around, stirring up those butterflies in Eddie’s stomach. I keep hoping one of them will get brave enough to show their feelings and make a move to mend fences. I feel they are a good fit.

Chava is a force unto herself. A little bitty thing but packing tons of energy, Eddie’s mother lends humor to this series. They are something to experience, whether just getting through the day or working on a new case.

Snappy dialogue, plenty of mayhem, and genuine character’s with all of their flaws, makes Elena’s detective series a must read.

5 STARS

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Three Strikes, You’re Dead

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Three Strikes, You’re Dead by Elena Hartwell Get Your Copy: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads

Book Three in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series

Private investigator Eddie Shoes heads to a resort outside Leavenworth, Washington, for a mother-daughter getaway weekend. Eddie’s mother, Chava, wants to celebrate her new job at a casino by footing the bill for the two of them, and who is Eddie to say no? On the first morning, Eddie goes on an easy solo hike, and a few hours later, stumbles over a makeshift campsite and a gravely injured man. A forest fire breaks out and she struggles to save him before the flames overcome them both. Before succumbing to his injuries, the man hands her a valuable object. He tells her his daughter is missing and begs for help. Is Eddie now working for a dead man? Eddie wakes in the hospital to find both her parents have arrived on the scene. Will Eddie’s card-counting mother and mob-connected father help or hinder the investigation? The police search in vain for a body. How will Eddie find the missing girl with only Eddie’s memory of the man’s face and a photo of his daughter to go on?

.

Praise for The Eddie Shoes Mysteries:

ONE DEAD TWO TO GO is a well-written fast-paced story that kept me fully engaged from beginning to end. It’s one of those stories where you get to the end of a chapter and think, “Okay, just a few more pages.” And the next thing you know, you’ve read three more chapters.” ~ Mayor Sonni, Readeropolis “…an engaging mystery that will keep you stumped to the very end.” ~ Susan Sewell, Readers’ Favorite THREE STRIKES, YOU’RE DEAD gives us another vivid adventure with the quirky, genuine private eye Eddie Shoes. As usual, author Elena Hartwell’s characters are so real you feel like you could run into them at your local dive bar. Three Strikes takes us even deeper into Eddie’s complex family relationships with her charming-but-deadly father Eduardo and hilarious mom Chava, giving us further insight into Eddie’s psyche. The laugh-out-loud moments are many in this vital third installment, and you’ll find yourself wishing you could stay longer in the world of Eddie Shoes.” ~ LS Hawker, USA Today bestselling author

 

Book Details:

Genre: Private Eye Mystery

Published by: Open Road Media, March 2024

Series Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

.

Read an excerpt from One Dead, Two to Go:

.

CHAPTER ONE
Call me Eddie Shoes. Not a very feminine moniker, but it suits me. My father’s name was Eduardo Zapata. In a fit of nostalgia, my mother Chava named me Edwina Zapata Schultz, even though by the time I was born she hadn’t seen my father in seven months. Edwina was a mouthful to saddle any child with, so at the ripe old age of six, I announced that I would only answer to Eddie. I didn’t have any nostalgia for a guy I’d never met, so Zapata just seemed like a name no one ever spelled right the first time. Chava wasn’t particularly maternal in any conventional sense, so not a lot of nostalgia for Schultz either. At eighteen I legally changed my name to Eddie Shoes. It said a lot about my sense of humor. Chava and I had come to an understanding. She stayed in my life as long as our contact was minimal and primarily over email. It was just enough to allay her guilt and not enough to make me crazy, so it worked for both of us. She’d always been down about my choice of career, but what did she expect from a girl who called herself Eddie Shoes? If I hadn’t become a private investigator, I probably would have been a bookie, so she should have been a little more positive about the whole thing. My career was the reason I sat hunkered in the car, in the dark, halfway down the block from a tacky hotel, clutching a digital camera and zoom lens, waiting to catch my latest client’s husband with a woman not his wife. I’d already gotten a few choice shots of the guy entering the room, but he’d gone in alone and no one else had arrived. I assumed the other woman was already waiting for him. After tailing the guy for a few days, I had a pretty good guess who the chippie would turn out to be. I didn’t think he’d hired his “office manager” for her filing skills, and sleeping with the married boss was a cliché because it happened all the time. I could already prove the man a liar. He’d told his wife he played poker with the boys on Wednesday nights, and I didn’t think he was shacked up in this dive with three of his closest buddies, unless he was kinkier than I imagined. But then, people never ceased to amaze me. December in Bellingham, Washington, often brought cold, clear weather and that night was no exception. Starting the engine to warm up sounded tempting, but I didn’t want anyone to notice me sitting there. Nice it wasn’t raining, but if the thermometer had crept much over twenty, I hadn’t noticed. To make matters worse, I’d scrunched my almost six-foot frame down in the driver’s seat for more than two hours. Even with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I was half frozen, and desperately hoped my mark didn’t have more stamina than I’d pegged him for. All I wanted was to go home and go to bed. And at some point, I would need to pee. Up on the second floor, the door of the hotel room I had my eye on finally opened. I brought my camera up, ready for the money shots. My earlier pics proved that the dirty white stucco on the side of the building bounced the pale glow from the minimal exterior lights enough for pictures to be clear without a flash. Even from this distance, there was a nice unobstructed view of the location. The only barrier between someone standing on the narrow walk and my camera lens was a flimsy, rusty-looking, wrought-iron railing. The balusters looked too thin to stop anyone from falling the height of the first floor to the asphalt parking lot below. I doubted anything at the tawdry place passed code. But what did I care? I wasn’t going to stay there. The “liar”—I have always been creative with nicknames—stepped out, straightening his tie. I snapped a few pictures and held my breath, hoping the other woman would come out behind him. Even if I took pictures of her exiting a few minutes later, the husband needed to be in the picture with her. A surprising number of wives would argue with me about what actually took place in these various, if interchangeable, hotel rooms. For some reason they would rather believe the info about their husband cheating was fake than admit he strayed, which confused me because I got paid either way. It felt especially crazy when they must already know the truth, otherwise they wouldn’t have hired me in the first place. But I knew better than to look for logic in the ways of the human heart and got the best evidence possible. The man turned sideways. Light from the room behind him threw his face into silhouette. He had an exceptionally generous head of hair, which made him very recognizable even in bad light. Mid-forties, and mostly in good shape, he appeared athletic as long as he didn’t unbutton his sport coat. I could see why women were attracted to him, though he didn’t do a thing for me. I preferred men a little more honest. But then, I’d never been married, so what did I know? A figure moved from behind him into the shadow of the doorway. “Come on, honey, step out into the light.” I held the camera to my eye. “One more step, so I can see your face.” The woman obliged by leaning into the cold blue glow cast by the old style, energy inefficient streetlights, her cheeks stained red in the flash of the vacancy sign. I happily clicked away as the “office manager” wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. She clearly wore nothing but lingerie. She must assume no one else would be out this late on such a cold weeknight. Or maybe she enjoyed having people see her, a bit of an exhibitionist in the happy homewrecker. Whatever the cause, she had him in the perfect spot for the best pictures. I loved it when guilty people made my job easy. My photos might not be art, but they were gold in my book. No way the wife could believe this was anything other than what it looked like. Several photos later, the husband extricated himself from the mistress and she ducked back into the room and closed the door. He walked briskly toward a shiny red Chevy Camaro. The guy owned a GM dealership and drove a new car every day. He lit a cigarette, which he puffed on for a few drags before he tossed it into the gutter. Not just a cheater, a litterer. The bastard. The cigarette stench backed his poker party story and covered the smell of another woman, killing two birds with one cancer-causing stone. As soon as he pulled out onto the street, I stretched back up to full height, relieved to still feel my feet. I started up my ancient green Subaru Forrester, cranked my heater, and headed for home, relieved I didn’t have to wait around in the cold for the mistress to reappear. Whatever she did next wasn’t my concern. Having the two of them in the pictures together convinced me my work was done. The hotel was located downtown—the blue-collar north end, not the high-priced, brick, historical south end, so I dropped down to Lakeway Drive, scooted under the freeway, and wound through the streets that curved around Bayview Cemetery. Traffic at ten o’clock on a midweek winter night was light, and I arrived at my little house by ten-thirty. I downloaded the photos from the hotel onto my computer, wrote up a final bill for my client, and went to bed content. What could possibly go wrong with such an easy case? *** Excerpt from One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell. Copyright 2024 by Elena Hartwell. Reproduced with permission from Elena Hartwell. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Elena Hartwell:

.

Elena Hartwell

Elena Hartwell spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com. Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, Jasper, Radar, and Diggy, their dogs Polar and Wyatt, and their cats Coal Train and Cocoa. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia. She also writes as Elena Taylor, to learn more visit www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com

Catch Up With Elena Hartwell: www.ElenaHartwell.com TheMysteryOfWriting.com Goodreads BookBub – @elenahartwell Instagram – @elenataylorauthor Twitter/X – @Elena_TaylorAut Facebook – @ElenaTaylorAuthor

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!  

 

Don’t Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

.

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Elena Hartwell. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

.

 

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.