Publication date: March 31st 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
Laurene King had it all: beauty, wealth, and a sexy secret affair with Reese Ashbourne— the brooding heir of her family’s sworn enemy.
But one reckless night shattered everything.
Tragedy struck. Laurene disappeared. And Reese was left with betrayal, unanswered questions, and scars he’ll never forget.
Now, Laurene is back, forced to return to the life she fled, but her homecoming comes with a cruel twist. Their families, teetering on the edge of ruin, have resurrected an old deal to save themselves: an Ashbourne and a King must marry—or lose everything.
Only this time, Reese is the groom. Not his brother.
Haunted by the past, Reese craves revenge as much as he still craves her. Trapped in a forced proximity neither can escape, their chemistry ignites—and so do their secrets.
But someone knows the truth about that night. The lies that tore them apart are unraveling, and the shadowy danger lurking in their luxurious world could destroy them both.
With their second chance at love and their families’ legacies hanging by a thread, Laurene and Reese must choose: bury the past or watch everything crumble to ashes.
The clock is ticking, and some truths are better left buried…
The laughter spilled from the main hall of the yacht club, bright and careless, tangled with the relentless thump of music. I should’ve been out there, smiling, toasting, pretending.
Instead, I’d been hiding in this bathroom for nearly twenty minutes, like it could stop the slow, sinking dread pooling in my chest.
Smile, Laurene! Smile!
Conrad’s great.
Really? my conscience said. He was great. Great for the family, great for appearances, great for everything except me.
The door opened and shut softly behind me.
“It’s over.”
I refused to look behind me. I couldn’t. If I did, I’d crack.
Instead, I focused on putting on my lipstick, the motion mechanical. I looked immaculate—perfect—the kind of woman my mother would smile at with pride. But I hated the color.
This fucking burgundy.
The same shade she shoved at me for every happy occasion, every moment she wanted to control. A color that screamed her. Everything she expected me to be. Everything I despised.
I met his gaze in the bathroom mirror.
He loomed there, his suit rumpled and tie slightly askew, his dark hair rebelliously unkempt. He looked the exact opposite of his brother—wild, unapologetic, dangerous. Everything I wasn’t supposed to want.
“Don’t look away.” Every word wrapped around me like a challenge, and that rebellious part of me strained beneath my skin. But he wasn’t asking. He was demanding.
And I obeyed.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I wanted him here. I needed him. But I couldn’t have him.
“I could say the same to you.” In the dim light, his green eyes seemed almost black. “Shouldn’t you be outside? Smiling for the cameras? Pretending you don’t hate every second of this?”
“This”—I pointed between us—“ends now. Get out before somebody sees you.”
His eyes held mine, and the way he saw me, like he was stripping away every layer, every excuse, was almost too much.
I turned. “This isn’t a game, Reese. My mama would burn the entire town to the ground if she knew about us.”
“She doesn’t know.” He stepped closer. “I was careful. No one saw me. We still have the plan.”
“Please.” I had to get through this night without more tears. “Let’s…let’s just cut our losses. I—I don’t know if I can do it now.”
He was behind me before I knew it, his weight trapping me against the counter. I closed my eyes, my breath catching as his exhale grazed the sensitive skin of my neck, hot and tantalizing.
“Can we think of something else?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “She always knows, Reese. You don’t understand—”
“What I understand,” he said, his voice sharp, “is that you’re miserable. You’re about to marry my brother, and you’re standing here trying to convince yourself it’s what you want. Believe in our plan or is that what you want, Laurene?”
.
About Author Tinia Montford:
Tinia (TUH-NIA) Montford is a Pisces who’s a sap for romance, especially when there’s (tons of) kissing. Loves eighties sitcoms and will consume anything with chocolate. She graduated from the University of San Francisco with a degree in English and Graphic Design. She is currently pursuing her MFA in Fiction.
You can find Tinia at www.tiniamontford.com or on social media: @tiniawritesbooks
Chilling murders terrorize a town and bring together two detectives to face the hardest task of their lives. Jack Ludlum, who relies on his brawn to get things done, is now paired with Jill Jarred,a brilliant investigator with keen intuition. As they delve into the secret world of incels and white supremacists, and conflict between local authorities and the FBI rages, a media frenzy further complicates the mission. Is there a serial killer on the loose? Or something entirely different? Will their clashing personalities be their undoing, or can they unite to stop the killer before they kill each other? What Goes Around is a dynamic thriller that examines the intricacies of love, loss, and the unbreakable bonds that transcend time. With its pulse-pounding pace, captivating characters, and a revelatory twist that challenges the boundaries of life and death, this novel will keep you hooked from the first page to the last, and thinking long afterwards.
Praise for What Goes Around:
“Relentless and gritty, Wendroff expertly weaves a narrative that begs, ‘just one more page…'” ~ J.D. Barker, NY Times bestselling author “What Goes Around starts off at a breakneck pace and doesn’t let up until it reaches its unexpected conclusion.” ~ Lisa Black, NY Times bestselling author “An adrenaline-fueled novel, the action breathlessly driven by two detectives-Jill Jarred and Jack Ludlum–relentlessly pursuing the bloody trails left by a serial killer with a dark sense of justice, deadly groups of white supremacists, and one lonely, alienated boy caught up in the violence.” ~ Kathleen Kent, NY Times bestselling Author “What a twist! This book grabs you from the first chapter, and doesn’t ever let you go. A brilliant debut!” ~ L.M. Chilton, Author and Journalist “Gripping and chilling…relentless…includes very up to date issues…with an original revelatory twist.” ~ Crime Fiction Magazine
I’ll remember the day I died for the rest of my life.
Prologue
The sign at the gate read, “Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again.” It was before dawn, the night sky still dark and the compound silent as a cemetery. The cabin loomed in the distance: a den of crime, a place where the armed drug dealers spent much of their time. The police team approached as quietly as they could, the crunch of twigs beneath their boots the only sound to break the eerie silence. Fear tiptoed through their souls, its icy fingers tracing the contours of their restless thoughts. They took a collective inhalation of breath, not knowing if they were walking toward their death. They knew the property owner, the leader of the group, wasn’t kidding with his sign. What they didn’t know was that a baby was crawling on the floor of the cabin they were about to storm. *** Jon Eddie considered himself a champion. Now he understood he was in for the fight of his life. Forty-two years old, with bulging eyes, a bushy beard and Fu Manchu mustache, he’d covered himself in self-righteousness, the way his tattoos covered almost every inch of his bulky body. He was proud of the group he’d brought together. Eddie liked to believe he was simply an entrepreneur, as his annual white power music festival, Nordic Fest, attracted skinheads from across the country. Full of music from “hatecore” bands such as Angry Aryans and No Alibi, supported by shouting speakers spewing their idiotic ideology, it provided a nice source of income—in addition to the dues Eddie charged, and the contributions he asked for. His major source of cash, however, was a raging drug-dealing business, his biggest sellers being meth, molly, and of course opioids. His girlfriend, Krystal, was yelling at their baby to stop crying. Krystal, no mother of the year, picked the baby girl up and was about to shake her when Eddie noticed movement at the front of his property. ** * Outside, the thundering silence was deafening. Two police officers accompanying the core team were selected to check the dense tree line that surrounded the compound’s fence. They knew there were often guards stationed behind the evergreens—if so, they needed to take them out as quietly and quickly as possible before the main assault could begin. Everyone was on high alert. Though it was cool, sweat darkened their uniforms. Up ahead, closer to the cabin, they spied a truck with monster-size tires. Through binoculars, a sticker affixed to a large dent on the rear bumper was evident. It was a monstrosity, with a silhouette of crossed AR-15s next to the slogan, “Yours for White Victory.” One cop, Jack—built like a sequoia tree—towered over the policewoman beside him, even though she was above average in height. He pointed his head toward the tree line and looked down with a smug expression. “You ready for this, Jill?” he asked, his voice full of confidence. She rolled her eyes. Her uniform was pristine. “Shh. You know I can take care of myself,” she whispered. He laughed silently. “Sure you can, Jill.” Then, under his breath, said, “Just don’t get in my way.” Jill gritted her teeth and ignored his taunts. She’d always been competitive with him, ever since they were in the police academy together; they were like two racehorses heading neck and neck toward the finish line. Jill was determined to prove she was just as good as he was. No, better. They looked at the team leader, who nodded. The two of them slowly moved forward, their breathing becoming more rapid. As they approached the fence, they heard rustling in the trees. *** Krystal had never wanted to be a mother. She’d really had no ambition to be anything at all. Stuck in a rut of life, like a sailboat without wind, she’d been tending bar when she met Jon Eddie. It wasn’t much of a bar; as you pushed open its dilapidated door, you were immediately hit with the pungent smells of bitter beer, cigarette smoke, and salty sweat. A long, sticky bar dominated the dimly lit interior, lined with shaky stools and chipped coasters. The walls were covered in peeling, nicotine-stained wallpaper, and the floor was littered with discarded peanut shells and spilt spirits. Normally, the regulars, their lives littered as well, would sit hunched over their drinks, staring blankly into the distance. Unless Jon Eddie was around. Eddie often drew a crowd, a mix of people in awe of him and people in fear of him. His mannerless mouth and domineering demeanor attracted Krystal. He clearly thought he was the shit, and just as clearly was a mean son of a bitch. But Krystal thought he was someone who could protect her. At first, she would shrivel from his drivel. Later, not knowing any better, she began believing him, impressed by his purported big ideas that the men around him enthusiastically nodded their heads up and down to. When the bar closed one night, he was in the parking lot, hovering, waiting for her, wanting her. She went out the back door and saw him. With an almost imperceptible shrug, she got into his truck. She stayed the night with him, which then became a month of muddling. Once she was pregnant, she was there for good. Or so she thought. *** “Grab the guns!” Eddie yelled over the baby’s wails. Krystal looked at him, frozen, as she held the baby. “Leave the damn kid on the floor. Just grab the guns!” ** * They could see two guards ahead. The guards were behind a large oak tree, chatting quietly while looking at a cell phone. One laughed. Jack motioned to Jill to wait a moment as he silently made his way to the larger of the two guards. Before anything even registered on the guard’s face, Jack started in on him. Jack got him down, using a headlock and fireman’s carry maneuver that landed the guy on his head. He was knocked out and would have a concussion, but he’d live. Jack allowed himself a quick smile, then turned to the other man, who was backing away, suddenly preferring flight to fight. Jill had watched momentarily in admiration of Jack’s fighting skills but couldn’t admire for too long; the other guard was her job, and she had to be just as capable with him. He’d turned to run but had a gun in hand. Jill moved catlike toward her prey. A tree root tripped her. The guard stopped. His gun hand was shaking. Fast and agile, Jill quickly recovered, jumped, and landed a swift kick to his shaved head. Her steel-toed boot landed right in the center of his swastika tattoo; blood immediately gushed onto the soil. All those years of martial-arts training paid off. The gun fell out of the man’s hand, and Jill kicked it away before kicking him in the stomach to make sure he stayed down. The man’s eyes were wide, and it looked like he’d had enough, so she stopped, not wanting to overdo it. Jack watched her, ready to act, and looked similarly impressed, though he didn’t say a word to her after they’d cuffed and muzzled the guards. Other cops quickly came over and dragged them away. “Well, that was the easy part,” Jack said. Jill, panting, just stared at him, knowing those words to be true. For a second, she thought of her dad, a former cop, and hoped his fate wouldn’t befall her. The core team warily walked forward, heading into the unknown. Jack followed closely behind. Jill wiped the blood off her boot with some leaves and joined them. Her heart pounding, but with a lot of backbone, she put her best foot forward. ** * The team leader, Nic, was as determined as a bulldog with a bone. He knew he had to stop the drug dealing, and he hated the group’s ideology. But even more, he was given this mission because an informant had told of a plan this group had to blow up a government building. Tomorrow. As they came closer to the cabin, he scanned the area for any signs of activity. He saw movement within the cabin. He could feel the sweat dripping down his face, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. While his officers were highly trained, he could see the fear in their eyes. It wasn’t a surprise. It was too easy for things to go bad. He motioned for the team to spread out and be ready, with two officers heading around to the back. He knew they were dealing with very dangerous people but hoped to take them in without bloodshed. Especially their own. *** The smoke bomb exploded on the floor. Chaos. His vision clouded, an officer yelled, “Police, come out with your hands up!” There was more movement inside; Eddie was fuming. But no one emerged from the thick fog of smoke. The cops moved in, like a tidal wave crashing onto shore. One of the team members was hit immediately; he was dead before his body hit the floor. More gunshots rang out. As the men frantically searched the rooms, the team leader headed straight for the source of the gunfire, bullets whizzing by at a dizzying pace. Amidst the mist, Jill saw a woman on the floor, bloodied and unmoving. She then heard a cry, and looking down, saw a baby. Holy shit, she thought, and tried to yell to the others, but in the mayhem, she knew no one would hear or understand. A hail of bullets came their way, and Jill got down, covering the baby with her body, like an embryo in the womb. Another gunshot rang out, and Jill saw blood. *** Excerpt from What Goes Around by Michael Wendroff . Copyright 2024 by Michael Wendroff . Reproduced with permission from Michael Wendroff . All rights reserved.
About Author Michael Wendroff:
.
Michael Wendroff has an MBA in marketing from NYU, and was inducted into their Hall of Fame. His MBA thesis was on “Marketing in the publishing industry,” and it was excerpted in the industry trade journal, “Publisher’s Weekly,” so he actually got paid to write his thesis. While interviewing publishing executives for the thesis, he met Truman Capote. He has spent many years since as a global marketing consultant. It was the Covid pandemic that finally got his to write his novel, as he was cooped up at home. The impetus for the novel was something his mother said the moment he was born: “Oh! So nice to see you, Again.” He grew up in a publishing/author milieu, as his mother was an editor at NYC publishing houses (watching his mother scribbling in red ink on manuscript pages at home on weekends prepared him for his own editor’s comments!). Plus she remarried a literary agent, Henry Morrison, so Michael was friendly with many authors (Dean Koontz, Lawrence Block, Joseph Finder, Eric Van Lustbader, etc), and even spent a vacation with Robert Ludlum. Watching Ludlum hand-write his 450 page novels on yellow legal pads didn’t dissuade Michael from trying to write a novel (though he’s thankful for his PC). Michael’s debut thriller novel, What Goes Around, was launched in the USA, UK, and Australia, and foreign language rights have thus far been sold in Italian, Japanese, and Hungarian. Fun fact: Michael’s great-grandfather was brought over by Thomas Edison from the University of Copenhagen (Denmark) to work with him in his New Jersey labs. He holds a number of patents, including for plastic buttons (he became known, and rich, around town as “The Button King”). Michael proudly wears button-down shirts whenever he can.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway! Click here to view the Tour Schedule
Win Big! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Michael Wendroff. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
When the police rule her dad’s death an accidental overdose, 16-year-old Chloe refuses to believe it and vows to find his killer. Alone against a potentially corrupt, small-town police force, a persistent social worker seeking proof that she has adult supervision, and precariously low funds, Chloe learns that her dad’s life as a cemetery caretaker masked a web of family secrets that quite possibly led to his death—and are now putting her in mortal danger. Needing freedom to investigate, Chloe pretends that her only surviving relative, a famous war correspondent, has returned from an overseas assignment to be her guardian. But living alone in the caretaker’s house in the middle of the cemetery, mere feet from the crime scene, puts Chloe’s nerves on edge even before she unearths clues about the shadowy side of her small town. Help comes from unlikely and surprising allies: the colorful owner of the local retro diner, the quiet new classmate with his near-perfect memory, and a spirit who visits in her moments of greatest need.
But as Chloe gets closer to the truth, someone else is getting closer to Chloe, watching her every move. And when her aunt turns up on international news reporting from a war zone, Chloe’s cover is blown. Now the race is on to reveal her dad’s killer—but perhaps—Chloe isn’t as alone as she thought.
/
Praise for Beyond the Cemetery Gate: The Secret Keeper’s Daughter:
.
Recently voted Notable 100 Best Indie Book of 2024 (from Shelf Unbound) and a Semi-Finalist for the CIBA YA Fiction Book Award (Chanticleer International Book Awards)
“This taut, suspenseful mystery goes beyond the cemetery gate and settles, creaking, into our very bones.” ~ Silvia Acevedo, author of the award-winning God Awful series
“A gripping mystery that succeeds due to a headstrong protagonist who’s unwilling to fail.” ~ Kirkus Reviews
“… a must-read and recommended for fans of mysteries looking for a gripping and compelling story.” ~ 5-Stars – Reader Views Kids
“A haunting YA mystery. Touching on everything from police ineptitude and community solidarity to the endless frustration of being patronized as a young person, this paranormal thriller confidently combines timely and relatable themes within a page-turning storyline.” ~ Self-Publishing Review
“Not all secrets are buried in the grave. Beyond the Cemetery Gate is a nonstop read through a dark, twisting plot and the dangerous world of shadows and sinister people that 16-year-old Chloe must outrun and outsmart.” ~ Patricia Skalka, Author of the Dave Cubiak Door County Mysteries
Book Details:
Genre: Young Adult Mystery Suspense
Published by: Lost Lake Press Publication Date: October 31, 2024 Number of Pages: 342 ISBN: 9780998173641 (ISBN10: 0998173649)
In the space between sleep and wakefulness, a sound seeped into my consciousness. The sense that something wasn’t quite right pulled me fully awake. I listened beyond my own breathing for it to come again.
A wail pierced the silence. An animal in pain? Only it wasn’t. I knew it was human. I slipped from bed to stare out into the cemetery. The tombstones always made for fascinating or eerie shadows, depending on how you felt about graveyards. I never minded, which was a good thing, considering my house was smack dab in the middle of one.
The sound came again, more of a moan this time, followed by a murmur of voices. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but people were definitely in the cemetery. One of them was scared or maybe hurt. Dad wasn’t going to like this. He locked the gate tight every night. The only way in was to scale the tall, spiked iron fence or pick the lock. Either one was going to piss him off.
In the distance, a pinpoint of light moved away from where I perched. It was too small to be a flashlight . . . maybe a cell phone? I padded down the hall to Dad’s bedroom, calling for him. His door was ajar, and the hall light was enough to show his empty bed, the covers rumpled and thrown back as though he’d gotten up quickly. He must have heard the same thing. His boots weren’t in their usual spot by the back door, so I knew for sure he’d gone to investigate. I had to help because Dad and I were a team, small and mighty, he said. We always made it through everything together. In my hurry I forgot to stop the screen door from slamming behind me when I stepped out onto the porch, cringing when the sound echoed through the night. I waited a moment and then whispered, “Dad,” as loudly as I dared. No answer. I angled toward the part of the cemetery where the small light had been, thinking I’d find him corralling some kids from high school pulling a prank. It happened once in a while but usually in a few weeks—closer to Halloween. I knew more than a handful of idiots my age who would think this was funny. I hadn’t heard the wailing or voices since I left the house. Maybe whoever it was had left? That hopeful thought disappeared as a weird combination of worry and fear crawled up the base of my spine. Just in case it was something more menacing than kids, I hid my approach behind the cemetery’s largest and oldest tombstones. Maxwell, Bell, Ludington . . . I touched their cold granite and the mossy green lichen growing up their sides as I slid between them. I expected to find Dad by now. Where was he? A terrible thought pushed me into full fear mode. What if the person making that horrible scream was Dad? It hadn’t sounded like him, but … what if he was out here somewhere and hurt? I had to find him! My breath quickened and a damp sheen of sweat prickled my skin. I sped up, more concerned with finding him than being seen. The cemetery was big, but I had to be close to where I’d spotted the light. I calmed myself long enough to pivot in a slow circle, my bare feet sliding on the dewy grass. The main gate was open, obviously where the trespassers came in—and hopefully where they’d gone out. It was quiet and dark. The cemetery had no lights of its own, and the glow of streetlights reached only to the second row of graves. Here and there, solar decorations shimmered for dead loved ones as cheerfully as possible but didn’t shine far enough to be helpful. The darkness didn’t hinder me. The cemetery had been my playground since preschool, so even in the dark I was able to avoid every tree root, odd stone, or divot that might trip me up. I decided to be systematic and jogged a grid pattern, snaking through the rows. I stopped short and gasped at the next turn. A body was slumped against the base of my favorite statue, a white marble angel holding a sword and shield. “Dad!” He didn’t move. In two quick strides, I was at his side. “Dad!” I gave his shoulder a gentle shake, and his head tipped sideways. “Oh my god! Wake up!” I needed a better look and found the light on my phone. What I saw scared me even more. Dad’s face was pale, his eyes unfocused. I needed help—fast! Dialing 911 seemed impossibly slow for three simple numbers. “911. What’s your emergency?” “It’s – it’s my dad. He won’t wake up.” “What’s your location?” “I’m in the city cemetery. My dad is the caretaker here.” “What’s your name?” “C-Chloe Cowyn.” “Okay, Chloe, can you check whether your dad’s breathing?” I bent low and placed my face close to Dad’s mouth. “I don’t think so. Please hurry!” This didn’t make sense. Had someone hit him? I didn’t see any blood. I swept my eyes over his legs and arms—stopping abruptly at what I saw. “Nooooo.” At first, I thought the wailing had returned, until I realized that I was the one making the sound eerily like what woke me. “Chloe, are you okay? I have help on the way. Stay on the line with me until they arrive.” “No. No. No.” My cell phone dropped from my hand as I backed away. Tears blurred my view until I could no longer see the needle stuck in my dad’s arm. *** Excerpt from BEYOND THE CEMETERY GATE: The Secret Keeper’s Daughter by Valerie Biel. Copyright 2024 by Valerie Biel. Reproduced with permission from Valerie Biel. All rights reserved.
About Author Valerie Biel:
.
.
Valerie Biel writes books for middle grade to adult audiences–stories inspired by her travels and her insatiable curiosity. Her award-winning, young adult fantasy series, Circle of Nine, was inspired by the myth and magic of Ireland’s ancient stone circles. She’s also the author of Haven, a contemporary middle grade novel, and Beyond the Cemetery Gate, a YA mystery suspense story. She helps other authors with their book promotion and marketing and frequently teaches writing workshops to students of all ages. When Valerie’s away from the computer, you might find her wrangling her overgrown garden, traveling the world, and reading everything she can get her hands on. Once upon a time, she graduated from the University of Wisconsin with degrees in journalism and political science. She lives with her husband on a (tiny) portion of her family’s century-old farm in rural Wisconsin, but regularly dreams of finding a cozy cottage on the Irish coast where she can write and write.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway! Click here to view the Tour Schedule
Don’t Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!
.
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Valerie Biel. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
(The Wild Rose Press)
Publication date: March 3rd 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
Annie O’Toole is St. Louis Public Defender, passionate about fighting for the underdog and determined to prove herself as the badass trial lawyer she knows she can be. Getting assigned to defend the kid charged with shooting billionaire businessman, Michael Grayson, is a big step up for her career. At least until the hot guy she seduced at the Justice for All Ball shows up at her office in response to her deposition subpoena. Turns out the sexy stranger who introduced himself only as ‘Mick’, the guy she’s been fantasizing about since slipping away while he slept — is none other than the billionaire himself, Michael Grayson.
She’s horrified. He’s furious. He thinks she set him up. She thinks he’s an arrogant ass in a Savile Row suit. Sparks, intrigue, and bullets fly in a mix of swoon and suspense as the two battle each other, the bad guys, and an off-limits attraction neither can ignore. When the evidence leads back into Michael’s inner corporate circle, the two are plunged into a world of international intrigue, corporate espionage, and murder — with a side dish of unresolved family drama as Annie is forced to turn to the only expert in corporate intrigue she knows, her own uber-wealthy, estranged grandmother. Now all she has to do is solve the case, escape her grandmother’s plans to take over her life (again), and save her client, her career, and the man whose lifestyle she despises . . . and whose touch she can’t forget.
Michael wouldn’t have been surprised to see actual sparks flashing from her fingertips, given the effect of her touch on his skin. He pulled her against him, his hands sliding down over her hips to cup her ass, drinking in the feel and smell of her. But without her heels, she barely reached the middle of his chest. He grabbed her hand and led her to the bed.
“Climb up,” he ordered. “I want you at eye level.”
She laughed. “I’m not that short.”
He wrapped a fist in her tousled curls and pulled her to him. Bending his mouth to her ear, he sunk his teeth into her earlobe. She jumped.
“Get on the damn bed,” he whispered into her ear.
She scrambled onto the bed.
“Much better,” he murmured.
He ran his hands up her thighs until his fingers brushed the tiny swath of lace beneath the shimmering fabric of her dress. She inhaled sharply as he slid his fingers between the lace and the silk of her skin. He loved the way her breath hitched at his touch. He slid the lace slowly down her legs.
“I think you just stole my turn,” she breathed, her palms on his shoulders as she stepped out of the thong.
“Royal prerogative. The prince makes the rules— and can change them.” He let the lace fall to the floor and ran his fingers lightly back up her legs, enjoying the subtle shifting of her body in response to his touch.
“Don’t princesses get to make rules too?” she murmured, her eyes closed. “Or am I Cin—”
He pressed his fingers to her lips, cutting her off mid-syllable. “Sin is exactly what you are…temptation incarnate.”
Her lips curved. “My, you do credit me with extraordinary powers.”
He brushed his lips beneath her earlobe. “How would you feel about turning those extraordinary powers over to me for the night?”
She opened her eyes. It appeared to take a bit of an effort. “Hmm?”
“Are you amenable to being my royal subject for the night?”
She stilled. A beat of silence stretched between them.
“Depends on what you mean. Are we talking ‘safe word’ kind of subject?” she finally asked.
He smiled. “No safe word required.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that because you are the serial killer I suspected and I’m going to die no matter what?”
He clicked his tongue. “Damn. Shouldn’t have used my credit card to pay for this room. What was I thinking?” His hands moved to her waist, and he kissed the hollow of her neck. “Looks like I’ll have to let you survive the night after all.” He traced a slow finger down to where her cleavage disappeared in the fabric of her dress. She shivered. His pulse kicked up a beat.
“So?” he asked again.
She shot him a half-apologetic look. “I’m not a very compliant person.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Ah, but that’s what makes it interesting. Stepping out of your comfort zone heightens the experience.” His fingertip slowly circled first one nipple, then the other, through her dress.
Her eyes fluttered closed. “You make it really hard to think straight.”
He stepped back, lifting his hands up in the air. “Far be it from me to confuse the decision-making process. Take all the time you need.”
She shot him an exasperated look, then bit her lower lip, considering him. Finally, a half-smile flitted across those lips. “What the hell—so long as no safe words are required—long live the prince.”
His cock saluted her decision. Affecting a calm neither he nor his anatomy felt, he moved away from her and sat in the chair by the window. Crossing one ankle over his knee, he took his sweet time perusing her, his gaze raking her body. She fidgeted.
“Stand still,” he ordered.
She froze.
He let the tension build for a long minute, then said. “Take off your dress. Slowly.”
.
About Author Cat Jameson:
Cat Jameson is a writer of contemporary romance novels packed with equal parts suspense, snark, and spice. A native Missourian, she moved to St. Louis to attend law school, sure only that she didn’t want to practice criminal law or be a trial lawyer. So of course, she became a career criminal defense lawyer who spent decades teaching trial techniques to other criminal lawyers around the country. (“We make plans. The gods laugh.”)
Cat spent most of her legal career in St. Louis and the city features prominently in her books, as does her experience in criminal law. Today, she resides in Columbia, Missouri — ‘the middle of the middle of flyover country’ — where she is deep into her second act as co-owner of a metaphysical bookstore.
When not writing, shopkeeping, or playing with grandkids, Jameson is most likely to be road-tripping with her best friend and business partner in a ten-year-old van named Woo — stopping at every bookstore and thrift shop along the way, loading up on things they do not need and have no room for.
Ten years ago, Reagan’s friend died in a tragic accident.
But what if it wasn’t an accident?
The morning after a raging college graduation party, we found Lanie Martin
lying at the bottom of a ravine, her neck snapped in a fatal fall. And I’m not
proud of what came next.
Before we called the police, we covered ourselves. Cleaned up from the blow-out
at Ella’s cabin in the Adirondacks the night before. Got our stories straight.
Ella begged me not to tell the police what I saw. She insisted that it was an
accident—and we all went along. What did I know? I was plastered that night,
and large chunks of that evening are missing for me.
But now, in my postpartum state, memories are starting to return, and I can’t
help but feel that they might be connected to the soul crushing depression I’ve
been experiencing. Is it guilt? Or do I know more than I think I do?
So when I receive Ella’s invitation for a ten-year reunion at her family camp—a
gathering of remembrance and healing, she’s calling it—I know I have to go.
Are the memories I’m struggling to recover the key to my moving on? To being
able to take care of my infant son and stay married to the perfect man?
Or are they a death sentence for me, too?
“The Unforgetting is a great read filled with tension on every
page, stunning twist after twist, and a mind-blowing ending that you’ll never
see coming. Highly recommended!” – R.G. Belsky, author of the Clare
Carlson series.
“The Unforgetting is a riveting, twisty, slow-burn atmospheric
thriller that will delight and disturb, in the best possible ways. Highly
recommended.” Douglas Corleone, international bestselling author of Falls
to Pieces
Gyrating to the rhythm of the blaring music, I want to be one with the flames. They dance in a way I envy, shooting up and down in sharp angles, casting shadows over the partiers, giving them a ghoulish look. Some of the people I know. Many I don’t. We twist and writhe and merge with the music.
Nirvana.
So fitting.
The smell of burning wood permeates my nostrils, mixing with reefer and patchouli oil. Embers float down like sparkling rubies in the twinkling night sky. A red-hot one lands on my shoulder. I bat it off, singeing the hairs on my hand, but I don’t flinch.
This is what the afterlife must feel like. When you become a bodiless bundle of energy, no longer tethered to the corporal world, free to roam around the atmosphere.
A blood-curdling scream comes from…somewhere.
Something bad is happening.
But we don’t stop.
We can’t stop.
We keep dancing and laughing and soon the flames are too hot and it’s not fun anymore and I think maybe, just maybe, that was my scream I heard in the woods.
.
Bonnie Traymore is the award-winning, Amazon best selling
author of page-turner mystery/thrillers that hit close to home. Her books
feature strong but relatable female protagonists. The plots explore difficult
topics such as jealousy, infidelity, murder, and the impact of psychological
disorders, but she also includes bits of romance and humor to lighten the mood
from time to time. She’s an active status member of International Thriller
Writers and Mystery Writers of America.
Andi Wyndham has communicated with spirits since she was a kid. When a bone pendant carved into the likeness of a girl’s face calls to her at a gem show in Pennsylvania, she can’t resist buying it and a sister piece. When she discovers the girls are missing runaways and the pendants are made of human bone, Andi is drawn into a mystery that will force her to confront her gifts, her guilt, and the ghosts haunting her. Pendant Girls Mariah and Bennie urge Andi to find a man they call “Fisherman,” a master of disguise. Teaming up with a handsome private eye and a South Carolina sheriff, Andi must find the girls’ bodies and put their souls to rest, before the Fisherman casts his deadly net to trap Andi.
Published by: CamCat Books Publication Date: February 25, 2025 Number of Pages: 496 ISBN: 9780744307931 (ISBN10: 0744307937) Series: Andi Wyndham, Book 1
Do you enjoy the paranormal? Suspense? Thrillers? Well, this book has it all. Along with a strong protagonist in Andi and the supporting characters. And it provides plenty of feels. From kind of eerie to sad and funny.
I admit, the cover was what first caught my attention. It’s gorgeous. And once I got further into the book, the cover and title held more meaning for me.
The story alternates between more than one POV and more than one world. I easily followed the story and was always eager to read about who and what was happening where.
There’s mystery, suspense, a sprinkling of romance and great dialogue. Many of the characters won me over and a certain someone needed to be voted off the island, permanently. There was never a time where I felt like skipping ahead. The writing and plot kept my full attention. This was an excellent story and I’m crossing fingers and toes that this won’t be the last time I read about these characters and worlds.
5 STARS
.
Enjoy this peek inside:
Ginkgo leaves drifted down like butterfly wings outside the gem show. They made a yellow carpet on the walkway to the boarding school’s gymnasium. Within the swirling leaves, Andi heard a voice. Hollow metallic vowels rustled like leaves in gutters. Consonants scratched and thumped like animals trapped in heating ducts. When the frantic skittering of syllables merged into words, a ghostly plea slipped into her consciousness. Trapped . . . help. “You’ll find your way to the Other Side,” Andi whispered. Some days, the spirits refused to leave her in peace. Turning off spirits’ voices was like trying to keep a snake in a bird cage. The Shadows had been with her since she was four. Her mother had sent those spirits to watch over her. But the voice she heard today was not the Shadows. They rarely spoke. Please . . . help. Andi opened the door. “I’m not the one to help you,” she told the young voice. “I attract bad men.” The ticket ladies took her money and stamped her hand. She scanned from one end of the gymnasium to the other. So many vendors. Where to start. Left past the fossils to a station called P&S Lapidary. They always had unique pieces. Please . . . ma’am. The whisper had a faint Southern lilt. “Aw come on. Hijack someone else’s head. Go see my ex-husband. Convince him to give me all his money.” Andi looked left and right to make sure no one had heard. No need to worry. Odds were good that at least one other person in the crowd talked to herself. Andi made her way through thirty stations. Through bargain-bound women rummaging in bins of clearance beads, through vendors taking orders to set stones, through miles of bead strands, she searched for the perfect happy, shiny piece. Twice around the gym, and that whispering voice drilled its way into her conscience again. Please . . . buy . . . me. Cripes! The urgency of that sweet young voice. She heaved a sigh. “Hope you’re not expensive. Where are you?” Her feet ached and the place was stifling hot. “Where?” Over here! She couldn’t see a damn thing through the shoppers lined up two people deep at the stations. Up on her toes, down, from foot to foot, sideways. A tiring, annoying dance. Andi shivered despite the stuffy gymnasium. Here! Easing her way through the shoppers, she peered into a glass display case. Malachite beads, a red coral branch necklace, two strands of ringed freshwater pearls, and one pendant with a cameo-style face etched in bone. The vendor with a bolo tie looked like her ninth grade geography teacher. “Let me open that for you. The face pendants are going fast. Only two left.” He lifted the hinged glass cover. Me! A loud whisper from the carved pendant with a girl’s face. Andi looked intently at it. Like most cameos, the face was a side profile. Tendrils of the girl’s curly hair escaped an upswept hairdo, framing her face. At first, she appeared to be asleep. Then the girl’s face turned and studied her too, eyes blinking as if she’d just awakened. Andi shivered. In the spirit world she’d inherited from her mother, voices whispered. Images in jewelry didn’t move. What now? She spoke silently. Subconscious to subconscious. Hurry, ma’am! Buy . . . A woman who reeked of Chanel No. 5 snatched the face pendant from the case. “Excuse me,” Andi said. “I came here to buy that piece. It called to me.” There now, she’d admitted she was crazy. She gave a lopsided grin and a shrug. “Please could I have it?” “Sorry, hon. I got here first.” A condescending glance at Andi, and the lady wrapped her bratwurst fingers around the pendant. “Not to worry, ladies,” the seller told them. “I have another like this.” He pushed the tablecloth aside, reached under the table, and pulled out a second pendant. “It’s stunning with Namibian Pietersite accents. I could let you have it for the same price.” No . . . me. An adamant voice. “I don’t want the other pendant,” Andi said. “I came here for the one in her hand.” At the next booth, a woman holding a jade jar stopped talking and stared at her. Andi blushed, knowing she sounded like a petulant child. Suddenly, Chanel Lady gasped. “Ouch! Awful thing cut me. It has sharp edges.” A thin line of blood welled on her finger, and she dropped the pendant as if it had bitten her. Andi caught it before it hit the floor. The silver bezel felt ice-cold. A young girl’s eyes gazed up at her and blinked. Thanks, ma’am. She stared at the pendant. Her mother had warned about spirits attaching to people. If spirits attached, she’d said, terrible things could happen. Chanel Lady cradled the darker pendant. Not a word was uttered from it. Maybe the tea-stained piece believed in being seen and not heard. Its bone face was younger. Pietersite in the top bezel had chatoyancy, a luminous quality. Thin wavy splotches of browns, blacks, reds, and yellows swirled through the dark stone like tiny ice crystals in frozen latte. “Yes. I like this one better. Excellent quality Pietersite,” Chanel Lady said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take her payment first.” The seller probably wanted to send the woman to another station before she started a fight with his customers. “No problem. Is this ivory?” Andi asked. Whether vendors called it mammoth bone or not, elephants didn’t deserve to be slaughtered for jewelry. “Absolutely not. Wouldn’t sell it if it was. Cow bone,” he assured her. A triumphant smirk aimed at Andi, and Chanel Lady made her way through the crowd. Subduing an impulse to give her the middle finger, Andi turned back to the pendant. She studied the heart-shaped face, turned it over and winced at the tiny price sticker. Was she insane? Andi couldn’t afford that; she’d lost her teaching job. “I’ll need your address and email.” The seller handed her a clipboard. She’d fought over it and won, no changing her mind now. While he charged her credit card, Andi filled out the information for his mailing list. Then she weaved through the shoppers to find a quiet corner by the concessions stand. What the hell. The pendant was a dose of credit card therapy. Unzipping the plastic sleeve, she lifted the piece by the bail. Two bezels set in silver. One disk held labradorite, a luminous blue stone with black veins, and in the second bezel, a face carved in bone. She shifted it in her palm, studying the details. Had light played with the image, making it look like the girl moved? It would warm at the touch of her skin. Once more around the gym, and she left the show, slogging through the field toward her car, wondering how a whispering girl had convinced her to buy a pricey pendant. Yet, she had a sense that something other than her credit card bill had changed. *** Excerpt from Bone Pendant Girls by Terry S. Friedman. Copyright 2024 by Terry S. Friedman. Reproduced with permission from Terry S. Friedman. All rights reserved.
About Author Terry Friedman:
.
Terry Friedman is a writer and a rockhound. Her novel, BONE PENDANT GIRLS, a paranormal thriller, was published by CamCat January 30, 2024. Terry began her writing career freelancing for a small newspaper outside Philadelphia. While raising her daughters Jessica and Chelie in West Chester, PA, she taught English for decades and traveled abroad with students. Terry earned an M.F.A. from Wilkes University and also graduated from the FBI Citizens Academy. Thirteen of her fiction and non-fiction pieces have been published, and she co-edited Delaware Valley Mystery Writers’ short stories anthology. DEATH KNELL V. She is an award-winning author. In 2022 the Southeastern Writers Association awarded her first place in their writing contest for her humor piece, second place for BONE PENDANT GIRLS in a fiction category, and an honorable mention for THE BANSHEE’S WAIL, an unpublished Irish novel. She is a Killer Nashville Claymore Finalist in the Supernatural category. A Pennwriters Board member and a member of Sisters in Crime, she currently writes thrillers from coastal South Carolina. Terry has traveled the world from Fiji to Delphi and brings to her writing a solid respect for things that go bump in the night.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway! Click here to view the Tour Schedule
Don’t Miss Out! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Terry Friedman. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
There are two ways to get off probation early. The first is to be a model citizen and complete all requirements imposed by the court. The second is to die. In Early Termination, Phoenix probation officer Casey Carson’s clients aren’t civic-minded, but they are dropping like flies. She’s on a gang’s hit list, a detective’s suspect list, and is torn while two very hot men vie for her heart. As more clients die and a probationer accuses her of brutality, she becomes the focus of the investigation. Casey risks losing everything in her race to find the real killer, but doing so will put the target squarely on her back. She will need to find the person responsible for lightening her workload before she’s the one terminated.
Praise for Cindy Goyette’s Novels:
“A hard-charging crime novel powered by combustible realism and driven by a fresh, new heroine—probation officer Casey Carson. Buckle up for a wild, white-knuckle ride.” ~ Lee Goldberg, #1 New York Times bestselling author “A dynamite start to an excellent new series. This is the kind of book that can grow legs and take off just by word of mouth. The character Casey Carson has grit, loyalty and honor. OBEY ALL LAWS is a topnotch thriller and I can’t wait for the next one. Author Cindy Goyette is here to stay.” ~ David Putnam the bestselling author of The Bruno Johnson series “Cindy Goyette is a master with words. And she knows how to spin a tale! Drawing from rich life experiences in law enforcement, her characters jump from the page. Don’t miss a single sentence this gifted author writes.” ~ Judith L. Pearson, author of From Shadows to Life, The Wolves at the Door and Belly of the Beast “A rollicking ride through the gritty world of feisty Probation Officer Casey Carson, a fantastic character with a heart as big and vast as the Arizona desert she calls home. When her probationers keep stacking up as homicide victims, Casey realizes that someone is sending her a message, and they’re dead serious about it. Now, she must unravel the sinister plot before she becomes the next victim. A complex, entertaining story that includes a secondary theme of romantic frustration simmering in the background, and a twisty ending that ensures we’ll see more adventures from Casey Carson. A great read! Five thumbs-up!” ~ Kerry Peresta, author of the Olivia Callahan Suspense series and Back Before Dawn
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery, Suspense
Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: January 7, 2025 Number of Pages: 320 Series:A Probation Case Files Mystery
I’ve read a lot of mystery and suspense book that had characters who were part of law enforcement like policemen, sheriffs and rangers. The main character in this story is a female probation officer. I was intrigued. Something a bit different is always intriguing.
So, you know Casey Carson is a probation officer living in Phoenix. What you learn is she’s dedicated and hard working. She keeps tabs on her charges. But, she’s realistic. Not all of them assimilate back into society and become success stories. Yet, she never expected them to start dying. One by one, someone is killing them.
Casey is everything I like in a female protagonist. She’s smart, loyal and fierce when she needs to be. She also has a softer side. Two men want her. She’s juggling her personal entangles while also trying to solve the murders and stay alive. I felt suspense building for both cases. Who’s behind the killings. Who’s going to win her heart.
The characters who share Casey’s story are genuine and one especially stood out for me. Felony. Such a funny name for Casey’s sidekick. Just so you know, Felony is a dog.
This was a gritty, thrilling read and when I finished it I was curious if there there were more stories about Casey. There are and I’m excited to explore more.
5 STARS
.
Enjoy this peek inside:
One
In probation work, there’s no such thing as a routine day at the office. This morning, flashing red and blue lights guided me to the crime scene. Coming to a stop behind the coroner’s van, I parked my Jeep Wrangler and took a deep breath. Coroner meant someone was dead. Not a good start to my day, but even worse for whoever I’d been called here about. As I climbed out of my Jeep, I adjusted my sunglasses and surveyed the area. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off the entrance to the canal. Red tile rooftops peeked over six-foot walls that separated the waterway from the middle-class sea of stucco on either side. The canal, about ten feet wide, snaked smack in the middle of a dirt pathway that residents used to get their steps in. It was nearing the end of September, and I was grateful for the hint of the cooler weather that would dip below one hundred for the first time in months. Ninety degrees might seem hot to some, but in Arizona, it was sweater weather. I walked up to a uniformed cop and held out my badge. “I’m with probation. Detective Ramsey asked me to come.” It wasn’t unusual for the police to contact us, but it wasn’t common practice to be called to a crime scene. My curiosity mixed with dread. The cop glanced at my identification. “Ms. Carson. Welcome to the shit show. Don’t touch anything.” He held the tape high so I could pass. I ducked underneath and secured my badge to my belt so the other officers could tell I belonged there. Lots of Tempe Police blue uniforms and forensic staff mulled around the area, but I homed in on the tall, balding man standing close to the water. He had on plain clothes—khakis and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I figured he might be Ramsey, so I walked over to him. He scribbled something on a small notepad and glanced at me as I approached. “You the PO?” I nodded and dropped my gaze to the mound covered by a tarp at his feet. I wasn’t fond of seeing dead bodies. One reason I was a PO and not a cop. “Thinking this might be one of your charges, Ms. Carson,” he said. “I gotta warn you, it’s not pretty. He was in the water for a while and birds, and god knows what else got to him. You got a strong stomach?” No. At the mere thought of seeing the body, my breakfast threatened to make a reappearance, but I wouldn’t admit that. “I’m fine. Why do you think he was on my caseload?” Ramsey shrugged. “Someone stuffed your business card in his mouth.” I gulped air. “You’re kidding.” “Nope. You ready?” Ramsey reached down and pulled the sheet back before I could respond. A bloated, green face, missing chunks of cheek, greeted me. Bulging eyes looked skyward. Bran flakes swirled in my stomach and crested in my throat. Without a word, I ran to the canal and vomited so hard I thought I’d hack up a vital organ or two. “You okay, ma’am?” Ramsey sounded bored. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and straightened. Memories of the same man, alive and animated, flashed in my mind. Not so long ago, he was proud of accomplishing a solid month of sobriety. Now, I hardly recognized him. “Could you put the sheet back?” I said, keeping my back to the body on the ground. “Sure.” I waited a moment to give Ramsey time to cover the corpse and to compose myself. But that would take a while, and the detective didn’t seem like he had a lot of patience. The relationship between police and probation was fickle. We often needed each other, but POs were on the lower end of the food chain. When I finally turned around, Ramsey was tapping his pen against his notebook. “So, you know the guy, or what?” “Brian Johnson,” I said. “He was on abscond status. Haven’t seen him for a few weeks, maybe a month. He was doing well, but then he stopped reporting. He probably relapsed. I was gearing up to request a warrant for probation violations. What do you think was the cause of death?” Ramsey shrugged again. “Too soon to tell, but most people who die of natural causes don’t end up in a canal or send a message like your business card does. They preserved it in a plastic Baggie, so we’d get the point no matter how long it took to find him. I felt even sicker. Was the message for me? “Couldn’t you ID him through fingerprints? I thought you had all kinds of tech gadgets for that.” “Sure,” Ramsey said. “But then I wouldn’t have seen your reaction. Plus, some of his fingertips are missing and what’s left probably isn’t usable. Dental records take time.” He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me. “Call me if you think of anything else I might need to know.” I turned back to the canal and vomited until I had nothing left to give. In probation work, there’s no such thing as a routine day at the office. This morning, flashing red and blue lights guided me to the crime scene. Coming to a stop behind the coroner’s van, I parked my Jeep Wrangler and took a deep breath. Coroner meant someone was dead. Not a good start to my day but even worse for whoever I’d been called here about. As I climbed out of my Jeep, I adjusted my sunglasses and surveyed the area. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off the entrance to the canal. Red tile rooftops peeked over six-foot walls that separated the waterway from the middle-class sea of stucco on either side. The canal, about ten feet wide, snaked smack in the middle of a dirt pathway that local residents used to get their steps in. It was nearing the end of September, and I was grateful for the hint of the cooler weather that would dip below one hundred for the first time in months. Ninety degrees might seem hot to some, but in Arizona, it was sweater weather. I walked up to a uniformed cop and held out my badge. “I’m with probation. Detective Ramsey asked me to come.” It wasn’t unusual for police to contact us, but it wasn’t common practice to be called to a crime scene. My curiosity mixed with dread. The cop glanced at my identification. “Ms. Carson. Welcome to the shit show. Don’t touch anything.” He held the tape high so I could pass. I ducked underneath and secured my badge to my belt so the other officers could tell I belonged there. Lots of Tempe Police blue uniforms and forensic staff mulled around the area, but I homed in on the tall balding man standing close to the water. He was dressed in plain clothes—khakis and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I figured he might be Ramsey, so I walked over to him. He scribbled something on a small notepad and glanced at me as I approached. “You the PO?” I nodded and dropped my gaze to the mound covered by a tarp at his feet. I wasn’t fond of seeing dead bodies. One of the reasons, I was a PO and not a cop. “Thinking this might be one of your charges, Ms. Carson,” he said. “I gotta warn you, it’s not pretty. He was in the water for a while and birds, and god knows what else got to him. You got a strong stomach?” No. At the mere thought of seeing the body, my breakfast threatened to make a reappearance, but I wouldn’t admit that. “I’m fine. Why do you think he was on my caseload?” Ramsey shrugged. “Your business card was stuffed in his mouth.” I gulped air. “You’re kidding.” “Nope. You ready?” Ramsey reached down and pulled the sheet back before I could respond. The face before me was bloated, green, and missing chunks of cheek. Bulging eyes looked skyward. Bran flakes swirled in my stomach and crested in my throat. Without a word, I ran to the canal and vomited so hard, I thought I’d hack up a vital organ or two. “You okay, ma’am?” Ramsey sounded bored. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and straightened. Memories of the same man, alive and animated flashed in my mind. Not so long ago, he was proud of accomplishing a solid month of sobriety. Now, I hardly recognized him. “Could you put the sheet back?” I said, keeping my back to the body on the ground. “Sure.” I waited a moment to give Ramsey time to cover the corpse and to compose myself. But that would take a while, and the detective didn’t seem like he had a lot of patience. The relationship between police and probation was fickle. We often needed each other, but POs were on the lower end of the food chain. When I finally turned around, Ramsey was tapping his pen against his notebook. “So, you know the guy, or what?” “Brian Johnson,” I said. “He was on abscond status. Haven’t seen him for a few weeks, maybe a month. He was doing well, but then he stopped reporting. He probably relapsed. I was gearing up to request a warrant for probation violations. What do you think was the cause of death?” Ramsey shrugged again. “Too soon to tell, but most people who die of natural causes don’t end up in a canal or send a message like your business card does. It was preserved in a plastic Baggie, so we’d get the point no matter how long it took to find him.” I felt even sicker. Was the message for me? “Couldn’t you ID him through fingerprints? I thought you had all kinds of tech gadgets for that.” “Sure,” Ramsey said. “But then I wouldn’t have seen your reaction. Plus, some of his fingertips are missing and what’s left probably isn’t usable. Dental records take time.” He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me. “Call me if you think of anything else I might need to know.” I turned back to the canal and vomited until I had nothing left to give. *** Excerpt from Early Termination by Cindy Goyette. Copyright 2025 by Cindy Goyette. Reproduced with permission from Cindy Goyette. All rights reserved.
About Author Cindy Goyette:
.
Cindy Goyette is a former probation officer who had a front row seat to the criminal justice system. She kept her sanity by finding humor in most situations. A mix of these things helped her create The Probation Case Files Mystery Series, Book 1, OBEY ALL LAWS won a PSWA Award for best suspense, and was published in January of 2024. Book 2, EARLY TERMINATION, released January of 2025. Her first cozy mystery, DIAMOND IN THE RUFF, will release in May of 2025. After spending over twenty years in Arizona, Cindy lives in Washington state with her husband and two Cocker Spaniels.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway! Click here to view the Tour Schedule
Don’t Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Cindy Goyette. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
Deadly When Disturbed follows the journey of leading Realtor and philanthropist Dara Banks. When Dara searches for an assistant, finding someone as resourceful as Meryl “Merry” Rafter seems too good to be true. So good in fact, she neglects to run a reference check. Bad move. Before she knows it, Merry, a former “actress” trying to be “helpful,” has insinuated herself into Dara’s business, family, and charity, and may be the only person saving her from prison. Dara becomes suspicious and begins snooping into Merry’s past. Feeling cornered, Merry reciprocates by launching an investigation of her own and realizes—too late—that she may have picked the wrong mark to con. These women’s unsettling discoveries, and their desperate efforts to safeguard their skeleton-filled closets and fragile self-images, lead to an explosive confrontation certain to destroy the lives of everyone in their midst.
Praise for Deadly When Disturbed:
“Two women. Friends? Hardly. They’re both after the same thing. And as the stakes get higher, the mind games get uglier, until—well, I’m not going to give away the killer ending. D. M. Barr’s latest domestic thriller is a total rush. It’s like being back with Betty and Veronica all over again—only this ain’t high school, and these women (like the title says) are DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED.” ~ Marshall Karp, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author of the NYPD RED series
“Who’s the hunter and who’s the hunted in this taut domestic thriller? Don’t even try to guess. Just relax, enjoy, and hang on as DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED takes you on a wild ride.” ~ Brad Parks, international bestselling author of THE BOUNDARIES WE CROSS.
“Tense, well-written, and surprising—Liane Moriarty meets Gillian Flynn by way of John Lutz in D.M. Barr’s latest domestic thriller, DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED. Gaslighting and suburban intrigue abound in this carefully crafted tale, guaranteed to keep you in suspense all the way to the final chapter. Put this one at the top of your to-be-read pile!” ~ Richard Helms, Thriller, Macavity, and Shamus Awards winning author of 22 RUE MONTPARNASSE.
“DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED is a superb dark thriller that offers a brilliantly written bizarro take on the classic All About Eve. Shifts in reality and twists of the plot keep the reader on edge until the stunning and unexpected climax. Fasten your seatbelt and hang on. It’s a great ride.” ~ S. Lee Manning, award-winning author of TROJAN HORSE, NERVE ATTACK, BLOODY SOIL, and DEADLY CHOICE.
“DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED by D.M. Barr is a clever psychological thriller reminiscent of The Hand That Rocks The Cradle, updated for today’s culture and with a superior narrative.… With a steady and increasingly intense pace, [it] is a hypnotic read of insanity and wretchedness that will stay with you long after the last page.” ~ Gaius Konstantine for Readers’ Favorite
Deadly When Disturbed Trailer:
Book Details:
Genre: Domestic Suspense, Domestic Thriller
Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: January 2025 Number of Pages: 310
Two female characters starring in a thriller. Sounds good to me. So I dove in.
When Dara’s work load becomes too much for just her to handle, she searches for someone to help. She finds Merry, who quickly becomes indispensable. And then, like a leech, she gets under Dara’s skin, inserting herself into all aspects of her life.
Does this scenario sound familiar to you? It does, doesn’t it? But, the author puts an intriguing twist on this. Dara wants Merry gone. Merry wants to step into Dara’s shoes. So, in order for either of them to get what they want, they’ll have to get to know everything about each other. And, boy, does it get suspenseful when the closet doors are flung open and the skeleton’s that were hiding there are revealed.
Talk about an ending you won’t see coming. A humdinger, indeed. For me. For you. And probably for the two women who lived it in these pages.
4 STARS
.
Enjoy this peek inside:
Prologue
She stood at her dining room table and calmly fingered through the cardboard box, double-checking that the paperwork was in chronological order. Even now, no one could accuse Samantha Ellingsworth of being anything but organized and precise. For nearly forty years, it had been both a gift and a curse. First the letters from Harry, professing his incendiary ardor during their abbreviated law school courtship. The GIA certificate for the diamond, his glittering promise of passion extending through eternity. The deed to their Upper West side condo. A copy of her resignation from Davis & Milliken, where she’d been on the fast track to partner. The birth certificates for her daughter, dated a year later, and the surprise twins, ten years after that. Next, the children’s coveted acceptance letters from Harrison—Manhattan’s most elite private pre-school and elementary—followed by every one of the glowing report cards she’d worked with them so diligently to earn. Campaign flyers she’d created for Harry’s run for state senate. Her passport opened to the page containing the stamp from that fateful trip to Aruba. The letters she’d written, refuting everything he’d accused her of as lies—all unopened and marked “Return to Sender.” The prescription for Prozac, unfilled, as if any pharmaceutical could rescue her from this pit of depression. Finally, the divorce papers she’d received a few weeks ago, still unsigned. A lifetime of aspirations, misunderstandings, and betrayals, all encapsulated in a pile of paper less than an inch thick. She affixed the cover to the box and took a long, wistful look at the “perfect” apartment they’d been so ecstatic about buying, beating out several competing bids thanks to the lingering cachet of the Ellingsworth name and its clout in political circles. Confident that the condo was spotless, with everything in its place, Samantha slowly donned her hooded sheepskin coat, grabbed the box, and headed out. The elevator operator nodded as she entered, but Gloria from the floor above murmured a curt hello and diverted her gaze as they descended from the seventh floor. Samantha had grown used to the frostiness over the past few weeks. Did the other tenants fear it was catching, that they too might be abandoned by their spouse and children, their lives reduced to rubble, if they inched too close? Whatever. She trudged southbound through the early morning wintery mix; package still cradled to her chest like a newborn. Frigid raindrops grazed her eyelashes before cascading downward and stinging her cheeks as she passed the signs in Zabars’ windows, reminding patrons to purchase their Thanksgiving turkeys. The holiday was only days away. The irony did not escape her. Shivering as much from the weather as from what lay ahead, she descended the subway staircase at 72nd Street, pushing against the throngs headed toward the sidewalk. She had someplace to go too and nothing—not crowds nor apprehension—was going to delay her. Today was the day, a chance to have her say. Finally, she’d make him understand. Samantha ran her MetroCard through the turnstile and headed toward the stairway leading to the uptown train. She positioned herself as close as possible to the opening of the tunnel and stood by the edge of the platform, resummoning her fleeting courage as the crowds swelled behind her. Commuters too involved with their phones to notice the determined woman beside them whose breathing had quickened and whose face had grown hot. She hugged the box even tighter to her fidgeting body and waited. And waited. A collective sigh arose from the crowd as the loudspeaker announced that the next train was going out of service and wouldn’t be stopping. She saw the light in the distance and heard the clunk-de-clunk and whirl—a deafening gale descending onto the tracks, drowning out the murmur of the passengers. Her ride to the most important meeting of her life. And it was the number 2 train. How appropriate. Just like her, relegated from number one. Timing was everything, the oncoming gleam only yards away. She tightened her grasp on what was left of her world, recalling the face of the bitch who’d laughed as she’d stolen it all away. Then she took one last breath and jumped onto the tracks. *** Excerpt from Deadly When Disturbed by DM Barr. Copyright 2025 by DM Barr. Reproduced with permission from DM Barr. All rights reserved.
About Author Dawn M. Barclay:
.
Dawn M. Barclay is an award-winning author who writes psychological and romantic suspense as D.M. Barr and non-fiction under her own name. Her eight other published books include Expired Listings, Murder Worth the Weight, and Saving Grace: A Psychological Thriller. Along with Deadly When Disturbed, in February LBB will also publish the first of her multi-volume series, Vacations Can Be Murder: A True Crime Lover’s Travel Guide. Dawn recently completed her second stint co-editing a Sisters in Crime NY/Tri-state anthology. New York State of Crime, published by Down & Out Books in the fall of 2024, which includes her third published short story, “Orchestral Removals in the Dark.” She is currently editing an anthology of crime fiction for Down & Out Books inspired by the music of Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Dawn offers developmental and copy editing through SuggestedDevelopment.com, and ghostwrites personal histories and corporate profiles through LegacyQuest.net. A member of ITW, she has served as president of Hudson Valley Scribes, vice president of Sisters in Crime-NY (still a board member), and the newsletter author/board member of the NY chapter of Mystery Writers of America.
Lyla and Jack seemed to have it all. A picture-perfect marriage, thriving careers, and a future brimming with promise. Lyla, an ambitious District Attorney, earned accolades in Virginia Beach, while Jack, the town’s steadfast sheriff, stood as her most powerful ally. Their close bond with the Davidsons—Riya, a celebrated author, and Brent, a cunning defense attorney—added a touch of warmth to their seemingly idyllic lives. But perfection is often a mirage. The illusion shatters when Brent Davidson is found savagely murdered at Lyla and Jack’s remote cabin. Suspicion immediately falls on Lyla, the last person to see him alive. The once-solid foundation of her life begins to crumble as whispers of guilt grow louder, threatening to destroy everything she holds dear. Removed from the investigation due to his connection to the suspect, Jack is forced to watch helplessly as the case is handed to Detective Aiden. Aiden is a relentless investigator with a personal vendetta against both Jack and Lyla. He is determined to see Lyla behind bars, no matter what the cost. When the body of Lyla’s stepfather—missing for fifteen years—is discovered, the investigation takes an even darker turn. Lyla is entangled in a web of lies, betrayals, and deadly secrets as her past collides violently with her present. With mounting evidence tying her to not one but two murders, she faces the terrifying possibility that she may never clear her name. Paranoia takes root, and Lyla and Jack begin questioning everyone, even each other. Is this the work of a bitter adversary from Lyla’s courtroom victories? Or is the actual threat lurking much closer—someone they once trusted implicitly, now bent on tearing their world apart? With her career, marriage, and freedom at stake, Lyla must race against time to untangle the twisted threads of deceit and unmask the real killer before it’s too late. How well do we truly know anyone?
Published by: Indie Scheduled Publication Date: March 21, 2025 Number of Pages: 269
About Author Shelly M. Patel:
.
Shelly M. Patel enjoys writing mystery books. Her first Children’s book, Jake has Dyslexia, entered the Reader’s Choice award in 2021. In 2023, she won second place in CloutBooks for the Reader’s Choice Award for her novel When Secrets Kill. She lives in Virginia Beach with her husband, three beautiful children, and their dog, Teddy
Visit these sites to play along in the cover reveal and follow them for more reviews, excerpts, and release info for The Perfect One by Shelly M Patel! Click here to view the Tour Schedule
Don’t Miss Out! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Shelly M Patel. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
The Axeby Linda Griffin Category: Adult Fiction (18+), 66 pages (1 hour, 46 minutes) Genre: Mystery, Suspense Publisher: ACX (ebook edition by The Wild Rose Press) Release date:July 2024 (ebook edition September 2023) Content Rating: PG-13. A few f-words. Sexual violence that is not depicted, but is described by the victim (not explicitly) and may trigger some listeners.
Book Description:
Sweethearts Eric Leidheldt and Desiree Chauveau are spending a weekend at his uncle’s cabin when they encounter two strangers cutting wood. Eric is knocked unconscious, and Desi is viciously attacked. The following day two police officers come to their apartment to arrest Desi. Her assailants are dead, murdered with an axe, and her fingerprints are on it. She confesses but is she really guilty? Eric is determined to stand by her, but the physical and emotional effects of the attack severely challenge their relationship.
Want to know more? Let’s talk to the characters, starting with Desiree:
What draws you to Eric?
Are you kidding? Have you seen his eyes? No, seriously, he’s a really nice guy. He’s very smart too, and not just brainy, but down-to-earth common-sense kind of smart. The most important thing though is that he lets me be me. I never feel like he’s competing with me or condescending to me. He came from a fancy, rich family, and I was just a kicked around foster kid, so you’d think he’d be all superior and stuck up, but he’s not. We’re more alike than we’re different. In the beginning, he made me feel safe…but now nothing makes me feel safe.
Tell us how you came to be in your current dilemma.
We just wanted to have a nice weekend, and Eric’s uncle has this great cabin in the woods over near Nickels, in the back country. There was somebody cutting wood on the property without permission, and Eric told me to go on up to the cabin while he talked to them, but of course I didn’t. I was afraid he’d start a fight. And those bastards…They deserved it…I don’t want to talk about it.
Why do you turn to Eric for help?
Honestly, I tried not to. He’s too good a guy to be dragged down with me, and I know he can’t really understand what I’m going through. But damn it, he wants to help, and he tries so hard, and for some strange reason he loves me. He still loves me. He’s all I have.
And now, let’s hear from Eric:
What draws you to Desi?
You mean aside from how pretty she is? From the first time I saw her I couldn’t get enough of that smile. She had a rough start in life, and I admire the way she overcame it. I love her sense of humor and even her stubborn streak. She isn’t like anybody else I ever met. I never believed in fated love or any of that nonsense, but when I met Desi I knew I was done for. She’s the person I want to share the rest of my life with.
Why do you agree to help her?
I can’t imagine not wanting to help her. I love her. We’re a great team. Even if we have to fight or wait a long time to be together, I don’t think we can give up on that. She thinks this has changed her, but I know everything I love about her is still there.
What is your biggest fear?
That what happened to her will come between us and destroy our relationship. I can deal with anything else.
.
.
Meet Author Linda Griffin:
Linda Griffin knew she wanted to be a “book maker” as soon as she learned to read and wrote her first story at the age of six. Her passion for the printed word also led her to a career with the San Diego Public Library. She retired to spend more time on her writing and has had stories published in numerous literary journals The Wild Rose Press has published nine of her novels. In addition to the three R’s—reading, writing, and research—she enjoys travel, movies, Scrabble, and visiting museums and art galleries. .
