Posts Tagged ‘suspense’

I Know She Was There By Jennifer Sadera ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: November 13, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, suspense
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I Know She Was There by Jennifer Sadera Banner

I KNOW SHE WAS THERE
by Jennifer Sadera
October 28 – November 22, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

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Synopsis:
Be careful what you see when you shouldn’t be looking.

Residents of the posh Upstate New York neighborhood of Deer Crossing enjoy all the amenities wealth provides. From drive-up dog-grooming to monthly botox parties, these lucky suburbanites have everything they could ever want. And one thing they don’t. Stalker Caroline Case, who wheels her infant along their streets each night with just one goal…to spy on anyone too careless or too foolish to close their window blinds. Convinced the owners of the impressive homes are living a dream existence, the troubled new mom hopes to escape her working-class life by prying secrets from the unsuspecting. But the fairy tale twists into a nightmare when she sees something she shouldn’t. Something that shatters her illusions about the people in the privileged community she’s obsessed with, even as she begins to doubt what she saw. As Caroline investigates the event, shocking secrets are laid bare, and nothing is as it seems. She knows she must prove something sinister occurred in Deer Crossing or risk letting someone get away with murder.

Praise for I Know She Was There:

“‘Twisty’ doesn’t begin to describe this compelling and complicated story. Don’t even try to guess how this turns out—just put yourself in Sadera’s capable hands and enjoy the ride!” ~ Karen Dionne, author of the #1 international bestseller The Marsh King’s Daughter and The Wicked Sister “In the world of thrillers, few conceits are more alluring than a ‘mostly harmless’ habit gone terribly awry. Such is the premise in Jennifer Sadera’s addictive I Know She Was There, where protagonist Caroline Case’s proclivity for sidewalk-spying on her wealthy neighbors turns into her own living nightmare. Sadera’s deeply psychological novel, echoing nicely to Rear Window, has Caroline guessing not only what she saw, but whether she saw it at all, and her struggle becomes ours through effective first-person narration. An impressive and thrilling debut . . . Sadera is an author to watch.” ~ Carter Wilson, USA Today bestselling author of The Father She Went to Find “Jennifer Sadera’s intense debut about a troubled young mother on a passionate mission to discover the truth kept me awake all night! It’s a gut-wrenching and addictively readable thriller.” ~ Bonnar Spring, author of Toward the Light (2020), Independent Publishers’ bronze medal winner for Best First Novel, New Hampshire Literary Awards—People’s Choice winner for fiction, and Disappeared (2022) ‘Best of 2022’ from Bookreporter and Crime Fiction Lover short fiction: 2023 Al Blanchard Award, 2024 Derringer “Twisty and compelling, I Know She Was There deftly explores how well we can truly know each other—or ourselves.” ~ Tracy Sierra, author of Nightwatching “A knockout debut—sharp domestic suspense that combines taut prose with a complex, artfully crafted unreliable narrator, and plenty of twists and turns that readers won’t see coming. I Know She Was There proves Jennifer Sadera is a voice to watch.” ~ Elena Hartwell Taylor, bestselling author of the Eddie Shoes and Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery series, including the upcoming A Cold, Cold World

 

Book Details:

Genre: Psychological Suspense, Domestic Suspense

Published by: CamCat Books Publication Date: November 12, 2024 Number of Pages: 352 ISBN: 9780744310955 (ISBN10: 0744310954)

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

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MY REVIEW

I sat down to write my review and was lost. How to write a review when the book has so much happening. I questioned Caroline’s right to walk the streets of Deer Crossing, an affluent neighborhood she thought she’d live in some day if only her husband hadn’t left her and their baby. I questioned her trying to validate her actions of spying on the people. Looking in their windows. That’s just wrong, right? And when she saw something she shouldn’t have, I questioned whether it had really happened. As did Caroline.

This story was busy. There’s background that’s shared. It helped explain some actions. That feeling of wanting the answers now, all of them, plagued me. And it kept me sucked into the story, right up to the end. Did I guess the ending right? Nope. Was it a good ending? You betcha.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Jane Brockton was going to get caught. My heart raced when Jane emerged from the side door of her home; what she and I were both doing was risky, but it was too late for regrets. I wondered if she thought so too. Probably. Her behavior was becoming alarmingly brazen. I pulled Emmy’s stroller closer and pushed aside boxwood branches, widening the portal I peered through. Although Jane’s across-the-street neighbors’ hedge was directly in front of her farmhouse-style McMansion, it was too dark this late at night for me to be seen. Go back inside if you know what’s good for you. I pressed my fingers to my lips as the man emerged from the house next to hers. Even if I’d yelled a warning, Jane Brockton wouldn’t heed it. Who the hell was I? Certainly not someone her neighbors on Woodmint Lane knew. If Jane observed my late-night excursions through the streets of her stylish suburban New York neighborhood, her first instinct wouldn’t be to worry about her behavior. I was prepared. If confronted by any resident of the exclusive enclave, I’d explain I walked the streets late at night to lull my colicky baby to sleep. I couldn’t admit my ulterior motive—worming my way back onto Primrose Way and into my former best friend’s good graces. And there was no need to share how, lately, the lives of this neighborhood’s inhabitants had been luring me like a potent drug—or how Jane Brockton was fast becoming the kingpin of my needy addiction. Jane stood out, even in this community of excess: gourmet dinner deliveries, drive-up dog grooming, same-day laundry service, and monthly Botox parties. Her meetings with the mystery man were far from innocent. The first tryst I’d witnessed was late the previous Friday night—exactly a week earlier. I’d strolled around the corner of Woodmint Lane just as the pair had emerged from their side-by-side houses and taken to the dark street like prowlers casing the block. I followed their skulking forms up Woodmint, being careful to stay a few dozen yards behind, until all I could discern was their silhouettes, too close to each other for friendly companionship. They’d eventually crossed Primrose Way and veered into the woods where the bike trails and picnic areas offered secluded spaces. When they didn’t emerge from the wooded area, I backed Emmy’s stroller up silently and reversed my route, heading away, my pulse still throbbing in my temples. It was impossible to deny what was going on, as I watched similar scenes unfold three nights that week: Jane slipping soundlessly from her mudroom door like a specter, the flash of the screen door in the faint moonlight an apparent signal. This night, as they hooked hands in the driveway between the houses, I slicked my tongue over my dry lips. She risked losing everything. I knew how that felt. Tim had left me before I’d even changed out his worn bachelor-pad sofa for the sectional I’d been eying at Ethan Allen. I watched them cross through the shadows, barely able to see them step inside the shed at the far end of Jane’s yard. And all under the nose of her poor devoted husband, Rod. He couldn’t be as gullible as he appeared, could he? A voice called out, shattering the stillness of the night. I flinched, convinced I’d been discovered. I scanned the immediate shadows, placing a hand over my chest to still my galloping heart. “Jane?” It was Rod’s voice. I recognized the timbre by now. Settle down, Caroline. My eyes darted to the custom home’s open front door. Rod had noticed his wife’s abandonment earlier than usual. Warm interior light spilled across the porch floorboards and outlined Rod’s robed form in the door frame. “Are you out here? Jane?” The worry in his voice made me hate Jane Brockton. I flirted with the idea of stepping away from the hedge and announcing I’d witnessed her heading to the shed with the neighbor. Of course, that would be ridiculous. I was a stranger. My name, Caroline Case, would mean nothing to him. Rod closed the door and my gaze traveled to the glowing upstairs window on the far left of his house. The light had blinked off half an hour earlier, like a giant eyelid closing over the dormered master bedroom casement. I knew exactly where their bedroom was because I’d studied the Deer Crossing home models on the builder’s website. I knew the layout of all three house styles so well I could escort potential buyers through them. I’d briefly considered it. Becoming a real-estate agent would give me access inside, where I could discover what life behind the movie-set facades was really like. Pristine marble floors, granite countertops, and crystal vases on every conceivable surface? Or gravy-laden dishes in sinks and mud-caked shoes arrayed haphazardly just inside the eye-catching front doors? I suspected the latter was true for almost every house except for my former best friend Muzzy Owen’s place on Primrose Way. Muzzy could put Martha Stewart to shame. I wedged myself and Emmy’s stroller further into the hedge. Becoming a real-estate agent wouldn’t connect me as intimately to Jane and Rod Brockton (information gleaned by rifling through the contents of their mailbox) as I was at this moment. Trepidation—and yes, anticipation—laced my bloodstream and turned my breathing shallow as I waited for Rod to come outside and start his nightly search for his wife. Some may consider my interest, my excitement, twisted, but I didn’t plan to use my stealthily gathered information against anyone. It was enough to reassure myself that nobody’s life was perfect, no matter how it appeared to an outsider. A faint click echoed through the still night. I squinted through the hedge leaves, my eyes laser pointers on the side door Jane had emerged from only moments before. Rod appeared. As he stepped into the dusky side yard, I thought about the people unknown to me until a week earlier: the latest neighborhood couple to pique my interest. Even though they were technically still strangers, I’d had an entire week to learn about the Brocktons. A few passes in my car last Saturday morning revealed a tracksuit-clad Gen Xer, her wavy hair the reddish-brown color of autumn oak leaves, and a gray-haired, bespectacled boomer in crisp dark jeans and golf shirt standing on the sage-and-cream farmhouse’s front porch. Steaming mugs in hand, their calls drifted through my open car window, cautioning their little golden designer dog when it strayed too close to the street, their voices overly indulgent, as if correcting a beloved but errant child. The very picture of domestic bliss. I studied the Colonial to the Brocktons’ right. On the front porch steps, two tremendous Boston ferns in oversized urns stretched outward like dozens of welcoming arms. The only testament to human activity. Someone obviously cared for the vigorous plants, but a midnight peek inside that house’s mailbox revealed only empty space. It made me uncomfortable not knowing who Jane’s mystery man was. And did Rod usually wake when his wife slipped between the silk sheets (they had to be silk) after her extracurriculars? He obviously questioned her increasingly regular late-night abandonment. He wouldn’t be roaming the dark in his nightwear if he hadn’t noticed. Perhaps Jane said she couldn’t sleep. She needed to move—walk the neighborhood—to tire herself. Hearing that, he’d frown, warning her not to wander around in the middle of the night. Rod was the type—I was sure just by the way he coddled his dog—to worry about his lovely wife walking the dark streets, even the magical byways of Deer Crossing. Hence, the need for new places to rendezvous each night. But the shed on their very own property! Even though this night’s tryst was later than usual, it was dangerously daring to stay on-site. Maybe Jane wanted to get caught. A scratching sound echoed through the quiet night. I looked at the side door Rod had just emerged from, saw his silhouette turn back and open it. The little dog circled him, barking sharply. The urgent yipping cut clearly through the still air, skittering my pulse. I quickly glanced at Emmy soundly sleeping in her stroller. If the dog didn’t stop barking, I’d have to get away—fast. Emmy could wake and start her colicky wailing, which would rouse the Brocktons’ neighbors whose hedge I’d appropriated. One flick of their front porch light would reveal me in all my lurking glory. As if to answer my concerns, the dog ceased barking and scampered toward the shed. I rubbed at the sudden chill sliding across my upper arms. That little canine nose was sniffing out Jane’s trail. Rod stepped tentatively forward. It was too dark to see what he was wearing beneath the robe, but I pictured him in L. L. Bean slippers with those heavy rubberized soles and cotton print pajamas, like Daddy used to wear. Daddy’s had line drawings of old-fashioned cars dotted across the white cotton background. Model Ts and roadsters. I felt angry with Jane all over again. How dare she . . . “Sorry, darling,” Jane called, striding from the shadows, stopping a few feet in front of him. “I was potting those plants earlier and thought I left my cell phone in the shed.” Her voice was soft, relaxed. She was a pro. “I saw it on the bookshelf in the study earlier this evening,” Rod said, bending to calm the little dog, who was bouncing between them like a child with ADHD. “Oh geez, I’m losing it,” she said, laughing. Not yet, you’re not, I thought. Not yet. *** Excerpt from I Know She Was There by Jennifer Sadera. Copyright 2024 by Jennifer Sadera. Reproduced with permission from Jennifer Sadera. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Jennifer Sadera:

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Jennifer Sadera

Jennifer Sadera began her writing career just out of college as a junior copywriter at book publisher NAL before transitioning to the editorial departments of national women’s magazines Woman’s World, Redbook, and Beauty Digest. She’d already established herself as a freelance writer and blogger when she decided to follow her true passion: creating novels. She is an active member of International Thriller Writers, Mystery Writers of America, and Sisters in Crime; her writing has earned her multiple awards at Atlanta Writers Conferences and a fellowship at the Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing. I Know She Was There is Jennifer’s debut psychological suspense novel. When not writing, Jennifer can be found gardening, traveling, or reading anything she can get her hands on. She is blessed with CJ, her husband of many years, two adult children, Amanda and Ryan, and two adorable rescue grand dogs named Sunny and Moonie.

Catch Up With Jennifer Sadera: JenniferSadera.com Goodreads LinkedIn Instagram – @jensadera Twitter/X – @jennifersadera Facebook – @jennifersadera

 

 

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The Crushing by Kerry Peresta ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: November 11, 2024 in Excerpt, reviews, suspense, thriller
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The Crushing by Kerry Peresta Banner

THE CRUSHING
by Kerry Peresta
October 21 – November 15, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

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Synopsis:
OLIVIA CALLAHAN SUSPENSE

  The victim of a vicious assault six years ago that resulted in a traumatic brain injury, Olivia Callahan is now a private investigator with her own firm. The assault that almost took her life resulted in a spectacular metamorphosis. No longer the shy, passive introvert she once was, she’s become a driving and determined force. However, the lack of impulse control caused by her rewired brain causes her to run toward trouble instead of away from it. When Olivia sends her colleague, Sherry, to the Florida panhandle to find a missing friend, Hannah; the search takes Sherry into the dark heart of an abusive, hostage situation. The man Hannah married is cruel, dangerous, and well-connected. Olivia reels in her favorite cop—Sergeant Hunter Faraday—for a discreet assist, and it soon becomes clear that Hannah’s new husband is adept at waging war against anything that blocks his way.

While rescuing Hannah is Olivia’s primary goal, her incarcerated ex-husband has other plans. He’s collected friends who support his obsessive need to punish her for her role in his murder conviction, and a time bomb is ticking.

As Olivia and Sherry battle to save Hannah, try to neutralize the fiendish plan of an ex bent on revenge, and endure a terrifying race for their lives through the Florida wetlands; a final betrayal waits patiently in the dark. Smiling.

Praise for The Crushing:

“Fans of Frieda McFadden and Lisa Jewell will stay up past their bedtimes devouring the latest thriller from Kerry Peresta! Haunted by her abusive ex-husband, P.I. Olivia Callahan had better keep her friends close and her enemies closer. Now, if she could only tell them apart. When one of her best friends goes missing in a Florida swamp, the clock is ticking. The suspense winds tighter on every page!” ~ Kelly Oliver, author of the Jessica James Mysteries

“The tension in Kerry Peresta’s The Crushing is off the chain. Chilling! ‘I can beat this,’ the captive whispers from her locked room. ‘I will escape.’ Taut. Gripping. Engrossing. Highly recommended!” ~ Tracy Clark, award-winning author of the Cass Raines Chicago mysteries and the Detective Harriet Foster series.

“Rich details, a strong, character-driven plot, and enough snaky twists and turns to give you vertigo – this fourth entry in Kerry Peresta’s Olivia Callahan series will have you sweating bullets and turning pages like a tornado, leaving you as breathless as a mile sprinter. There’s nothing less simple than a simple missing-persons case, and there are far worse things than gators in the dark, dank Florida boonies. Don’t believe me? Read The Crushing.” ~ J.R. Sanders, Shamus Award winning author of the Nate Ross novels.

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller, Suspense

Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: October 15, 2024 Number of Pages: 310 ISBN: 978-1-68512-770-1 Series: Olivia Callahan Suspense, Book Four

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Level Best Books

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MY REVIEW

After suffering a serious Brain injury six years ago, Olivia is back on her feet and running her own private investigations firm. She’s good at it and senses something is wrong when she can’t get in touch with her friend, Hannah. Along with her partner, Sherry, she sets out to find her missing friend. The way is fraught with danger but she’s not one to run away. She’s brave and a loyal friend. She’ll not stop until she finds Hannah.

Well, talk about suspenseful. This story is like a runaway train. The characters are so genuine, the good and the bad. And there’s not much down time to catch your breath. The plot powers along, and you’ll need to hang on for the ride.

Suspense, mystery, romance. This book has it all. And you get multiple points of view so you don’t miss a thing. Being the fourth book in the series, I do want to go back and start Olivia’s story from the beginning. She’s such an intriguing personality. What a thrill this was to read.

5 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
PROLOGUE

Sherry crammed the phone against her ear as she dashed through the thick undergrowth, trudged across boggy marshes, and arrived at a feeder stream.

“Olivia! Olivia?”

Nothing.

“Dammit!” she muttered, shoving her cell back into her pocket. She calculated that the nearest town rested fifteen miles down the highway out here in Florida-cracker country, and holing up until the shooter emerged seemed the best option.

She should’ve known there’d be no service out here.

Where did he go? She scraped mud off her face and rubbed her sunburned cheeks. He actually fired a weapon. On no planet had she ever thought this little trek would become a fight for her life, yet here she stood, hands glued to the trunk of a huge palm, eyes darting back and forth across the marshy, pancake-flat wastelands of inland Florida. Behind her lay a wide body of water surrounded by suspicious-looking marsh grass and, she suspected, alligators…and in front of her lay miles of marshland and bedraggled palms spearing the sky.

Why had she volunteered for this assignment, again? “I just had to get my investigator’s license,” she muttered. “Maybe I should’ve stayed put as Olivia’s assistant instead of private investigator. This isn’t quite how I envisioned the job.” She rubbed her calves. How long had she been running? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? An hour? Where was Olivia? The distant blast of gunfire reached her ears. A bullet sliced through the air and hit the tree she’d wrapped herself around, missing her hand by inches. Sherry felt her stomach freeze into a block of ice. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she slid her hand to the paddle holster on her belt, gripped her Smith & Wesson revolver, and released the safety strap. Another crack of gunfire erupted closer this time. She swallowed, hard. A whoosh of air zipped past a mere twelve inches in front of her nose. Sherry dropped to the ground like a stone. The spikey bushes on the ground dug into her arms, her chest, her legs. She located a slight rise about ten feet away, and hastily low-crawled through the weeds on her stomach, edged to the top of the incline, and threw herself over the top. Breathing hard, she peeked out above the edge. The crack-crack-crack of shots fired caused her to dive for cover. She took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off her palms, and fired back a volley of her own. When silence fell, she relaxed against the incline and tugged out her phone. A signal! With fumbling fingers, she pressed in Olivia’s number. She waited through one ring, then two, before her call was answered. “Where are you?” Olivia’s anxious voice demanded. “Are you okay?” Tears of relief trailed down her cheeks. She rattled off a description of her location. Her gaze trained on the best-case origination of shots fired, she whispered, “Olivia! I found Hannah. She’s exhausted and weak, but I’ve got her.” Sherry listened to Olivia’s instructions. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the airport, but…wait. I hear something,” she whispered, and stuck the phone back in her pocket. She gripped her weapon with both hands. Minutes passed. Sherry tried to breathe. Something shuffled through the grass. Her eyes sliced left, right. The shuffling stopped. The hum of cicadas intensified. She swatted at mosquitoes. Sweat trickled down her face. Sherry adjusted her grip on her sidearm. She strained to hear more footsteps, but only heard the faint squawk of herons and hoot of owls. The setting sun left a red slash on the horizon. Bats dipped and swooped above her. She lowered her weapon, puzzled. Had one of her prior shots wounded her target? Taking her time, she rose from her niche behind the incline. A single shot burst from her adversary’s weapon and sizzled through the air. She cried out in pain. The bullet had nicked her, the sting of a monster wasp. She groped her waist with her free hand and lifted it away wet with blood. Rage rushed through her chest and down her arms. She planted her legs wide and emptied her weapon in the direction of the shooter. The phone in her pocket vibrated with a text as she reloaded. Another bullet clipped her in the shoulder. The sound of sirens wailed in the distance. She collapsed. *** Excerpt from The Crushing by Kerry Peresta. Copyright 2024 by Kerry Peresta. Reproduced with permission from Kerry Peresta. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Kerry Peresta:

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Kerry Peresta

Kerry Peresta is a suspense novelist, and her releases include The Deadening, The Rising, The Torching, and The Crushing, books one-four in the Olivia Callahan Suspense series; and Back Before Dawn, a standalone thriller, all published by Level Best Books Publishing. Her magazine articles have appeared in Hilton Head’s Local Life Magazine, The Bluffton Breeze, Lady Lowcountry, and Island Events Magazine. She spent twenty-five years in advertising as an account manager, creative director, editor, and copywriter. She is past chapter president of the Maryland Writers’ Association and a current member and presenter of Hilton Head Island Writers’ Network, South Carolina Writers Association, Pat Conroy Literary Center, International Thriller Writers, and the Sisters in Crime organization. Kerry is the mother of four adult kids, a flock of grandkids, and three cats. She and her husband moved to Hilton Head Island in 2015.

Catch Up With Kerry Peresta: kerryperesta.com Goodreads BookBub – @kerryperesta Amazon Author Page Instagram – @kerryperesta Twitter/X – @kerryperesta Facebook Author Page Facebook Personal Page

 

Tour Participants:

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Runaway Hearts By Elsa Jacobs ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 6, 2024 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways, suspense
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Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

by Elsa Jacobs

 

 

 

Publication date: November 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Have you ever wished to run away from your life?

Start anew and leave everything bad behind…

Marianne, a young woman hungry for a fresh start, can’t wait for her beach house getaway. But her plans take an unexpected turn when she picks up a mysterious hitchhiker on the way.

The irresistible stranger is the sole heir of a Japanese *organization*, and despite Marianne’s own anxiety struggles, she can’t say no to someone in need. As they travel together, swapping past traumas and dreams, love sparks. To heal her troubled mind, she must embrace her true desires, no matter how twisted they seem.

But as love deepens, an enemy from the man’s past threatens to pull them apart. In the midst of looming danger, Marianne must choose between sticking to her anxious ways or diving into the unknown for true love.

Get ready for a wild ride where each page brings new revelations and perils, leading to a destination unlike any other.

Runaway Hearts is a slow burn, steamy, contemporary romantic suspense with morally questionable characters. HEA.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

As I return to my car, a painful golden gaze greets me. The second I pull out of the alley, tires screech in the distance, a silver SUV closing in on us at great speed.

Stranger Danger turns his head when he sees my wide eyes. “Drive!” he yells with desperation.

And just like that, I’m thrown into a heart-pumping car-chase scene.

My hands grip the steering wheel with an iron resolve.

The engine roars as I speed through the city streets, determined not to be caught by my pursuers.

I’m not on the menu tonight!

My mind races, searching for an escape route. The unfamiliar streets of the city blur past me as I navigate through the labyrinth of alleys and side roads.

“Wow…” the wounded stranger says in the back.

I burst into a weird cackle. “Glad you’re enjoying the ride! Buckle up, it might be a rocky road.” Mm. Ice cream.

“Just try not to kill us both,” he replies, amusement and genuine concern in his voice.

Each turn is calculated, each maneuver executed with precision. I can’t afford a single mistake. It’s easier than the go-karts!

And I love it.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of the pursuer’s SUV closing in. Their dark, tinted windows hide their identities, but their malevolent presence creeps like a shadow up my spine. A sentiment I can’t recognize fuels my every move, pushing me to the limits of speed and agility.

“Who’re they? Why’re they chasing you?” I shout, teeth clenched as I drift a tight turn.

“Not now! Just fucking drive!” he snaps, tension radiating from him like heat.

The answer should scare me, but instead, it ignites something within. A reckless defiance maybe. I punch the gas harder. The SUV fades in the distance.

Where’s the police now?

As I navigate through the streets, the city becomes a haze. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, but the danger is very real.

“Just one more crazy move and I’ll lose them,” I say, pulse thudding hard in my throat as adrenaline spikes through my system.

I need to shake them off for good. Ahead lies a narrow alleyway, barely wide enough to fit my car. Shit. My fingers grip the wheel tighter. The alley is empty. On an impulse, I slam the gas, my heart drumming as I squeeze through the tight space. The pursuers hesitate, thrown off by the daring move. I bet their SUV is too large to come in here.

I cackle, my breath hitching with the rush, as I put distance between us and the furious men. The sharp sting of sweat trails down my spine, but relief crashes through me.

“Ha! Suck on that, you oversized tin cans!” I yell, voice ragged, throat dry from the wild tension that’s been gripping me.

It’s been ages since I’ve felt truly alive. I rush with abandon, the music blasting. Nothing can touch me at this moment of pure euphoria.

As the sky turns shades of pink and orange, I finally reach the outskirts. The energy from the chase has left me breathless yet exhilarated. With every turn, the weight of my life lifted off my shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom. I bite back the “whoop!” threatening to escape my mouth.

I didn’t even know I could drive like that. I slide the sun visor’s mirror to look at myself and burst out laughing. My cheeks are a deep pink, my eyes have an electric gleam, and my lips are stretched into the most wicked smile I’ve ever seen on myself.

“That was wild,” I whisper to myself.

Stranger Danger shakes his head with amusement and worry. “You drive like a maniac.”

“Maniac but living!” I reply, a wild grin on my face.

But the adrenaline surge recedes, leaving my heart rate back to normal and my heart empty. A quick look to the rearview mirror shows me an empty road.

Phew.

Stranger Danger has changed his clothing, but he remains lying across the back seat. I didn’t even see him change his underwear, and that’s a disappointment. A car chase will do that to you.

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About Author Elsa Jacobs:

I’m Elsa Jacobs, an indie author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense/thriller. I write unique love stories with a substantial amount of twists, turns, and spices.

Let me tell you how it all started. A few years back, I was battling brutal insomnia that just wouldn’t quit. Nights were a blur of characters and plots swirling around in my head, refusing to let me catch some shut-eye. It was maddening. Writing became my escape hatch—I had to get these stories out of my head.

In less than a year, I wrote four drafts, all because I needed an outlet for the chaos that was keeping me up at night. Publishing wasn’t even on my radar; I just needed some peace of mind. But then, something unexpected happened. I sent a chapter to an editor, not really expecting much to come of it.

But instead of a brush-off, I found myself teaming up with that editor to bring my first novel to life.

It was a game-changer. That’s when I decided to take the plunge and share the rest of my drafts, bit by bit, with the world.

My stories might have been born out of sleepless nights, but they’ve become my sanctuary, and I hope they become yours too.

Cheers,

Elsa.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook

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The Poseidon Project by E. William Podojil ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 5, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, Mytery/Thriller, suspense
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for The Poseidon Project organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

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The Poseidon Project

by E. William Podojil

 

 

Genre: Mystery / Suspense / Thriller

Synopsis

The Poseidon Project is an international suspense thriller and the first book in The Herb Society Mysteries series

Molly Halloran and her friends have a secret past.  Their bucolic retirement is suddenly upended when Molly’s husband is abducted and held for a steep ransom.  Now she, her friends, her tech executive son, Lukas and his Air Force pilot boyfriend must race against the clock and travel halfway around the world to meet the kidnappers’ demands.  But when they learn why her husband has been abducted, they realize how high the stakes truly are.  Molly and her friends now must face their past in order to save the future.  But not only their futures; the world’s.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The explosion was deafening. A huge fireball engulfed the Iveco box truck with a force that knocked Molly, Donna, Linda, and John off their feet. Having been already seated, Lukas instinctively shielded Taylor from the force of the blast that was over one hundred feet away. The explanation of the Hindenburg explosion his mom had referenced two days ago flashed through his mind. The hydrogen collection tank must have had a leak or breached from being overfilled. But unlike the Hindenburg, there was not a zeppelin-sized supply of hydrogen on the Demeter unit, or what was left of it. The explosion was sudden, strong, and brief. The flames quickly burned through the truck’s cargo area, then slowly burned the embers of what little was left. The truck was destroyed, as was Demeter. Zip- Tie’s blackened remains smoldered on the ground, about ten feet from the blast.

Betty and Patrick stood at the top of the terrace waving their arms and appeared to be yelling something. Lukas could not hear much other than the ringing in his ears, and he assumed the rest of the group was partially deaf as they struggled to get to their feet. Lukas had shielded Taylor’s body, and his hearing appeared to be unaffected. Taylor kissed Lukas on the cheek and mouthed Thank you. Or at least Lukas thought he said it silently.

Betty held the fourth Glock in her hand and ran toward the group to help them ascend the terrace. “We’ve gotta get out of here!” she yelled, hoping their damaged ears could hear her. She knew it was only a few minutes before the Dubai police came to investigate the source of the explosion in the city center.

“Where is Malik?” Betty asked as John, Donna, and Molly rubbed their ears, hoping to regain their hearing.

“He ran that way.” Taylor pointed in the direction of the Burj Khalifa. “I saw him for an instant right after the blast.”

Patrick raced toward the group. “Police are on their way. I hear the sirens. Let’s go, everybody!” Patrick and Taylor, both injured, were able to shepherd the group up to the Sprinter van, get in, and buckle up for what was going to be a quick getaway.

Betty slammed on the accelerator, and the van lurched forward. She could see the flashing police lights about a quarter of a mile to her right. She turned left, hoping to avoid them. “Patrick, I need you to navigate! I don’t know where I am!” Betty yelled with a tinge of panic in her voice. Patrick stood up and sat in the passenger seat to help navigate.

Taylor quickly dialed his daughter. She answered on the first ring tone. “Dad, where are you?”

“Get the Goose ready. We’ll be there in—” He looked at Patrick, who held up his hands with fingers extended. “—ten to fifteen minutes. Please clear a take- off slot for us in twenty-five minutes from now.”

“Got it, Dad. Drive safely.”

Tory hung up as Betty slalomed quickly through.

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About Author E. William Podojil:

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Edited in Prisma app

  1. William Podojil has worked as a writer, advisor and  international business executive while living in the Netherlands and the United States. He studied screenwriting at UCLA. His first novel, The Tenth Man, was published in 2004, by Haworth Press.  His latest novel, The Poseidon Project, will be published by Wild Rose Press in August, 2024 as the first book in the Herb Society Mysteries series.

Podojil currently resides in Northeast Ohio with his husband and three sons. He travels extensively and writes about his experiences on his website www.ewpodojil.com.

Author Links: Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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Ultimate Justice By Tee O’Fallon ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 2, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, Romance, suspense, thriller
Tags: , , ,
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Some truths are worth dying for.

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Ultimate Justice

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K-9 Special Ops Book 3

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by Tee O’ Fallon

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Genre: Thriller, Romantic Suspense

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Some truths are worth dying for.

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While tracking down an escaped felon, FBI Special Agent Evan McGarry and his
K-9, Blue, uncover a smoking hot lead on the location of dozens of missing
children―including Evan’s own sister. The shocking discovery reopens cold cases
throughout Colorado, along with painful wounds and the heartbreaking guilt
Evan’s kept buried for decades.

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Three years ago, hospital custodian Marlie Foxe’s world imploded, causing her
to cut herself off from the world. But when one of the missing boys turns up at
her hospital, he only allows Marlie to get close. Now, Evan needs her help with
the boy―and he won’t take no for an answer. When she finally agrees to work
with him, Evan suspects there’s more to the woman than she’s letting on. She’s
hiding something. The question is what.

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As Evan and Marlie unearth a cult targeting runaways, they’re forced to
confront not only dangerous criminals but the truths they’ve both been
avoiding―including the blistering passion they can no longer deny. But when
more children disappear, they’ll have to risk more than just their hearts.

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Each book in the K-9 Special Ops series is STANDALONE:
* Tough Justice
* Burning Justice
* Ultimate Justice

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“Ultimate Justice is romantic suspense done right! It has great
characters, a riveting plot, and sizzling romance.
Tee O’Fallon’s law enforcement background shines through in the realistic and
suspenseful plot… The story moves at a brisk pace that will
keep the pages flying… This is one of my favorite books of the year and Tee
O’Fallon is an author to seek out.” – Just Another Damn Book Blog

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Audible* Kobo * Google* Bookbub * Goodreads

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“Evan arched a brow. Liar. The woman looked anything but happy.

 

Her knuckles were white where she had her long blond braid in a

death grip, and the smooth skin over her carotid pulsed rapidly. She shot what he could

swear was a panicked look at the door. Bottom line…Marlie Foxe looked ready to bolt

faster than a deer on opening day of hunting season.

 

Her deep blue gaze met his, and he was struck by the sad, haunted

look in hers. He’d seen that look. It was the same one he’d seen in the mirror on his

own face and those of his parents in the days and months after Gracie disappeared. He

wondered if it would ever stop.

 

Now, for the first time in twenty-four years, he was, potentially, on

the verge of discovering the answer to his family’s burning question: what happened to

their daughter, his sister?

 

If only he wasn’t exhausted. Make that totally beat to shit. He’d

 

barely slept, and then only because he’d had to.

 

In the two days he’d been waiting to interview Noah, he’d fully

briefed his SAIC—Special Agent in Charge—the FBI director via Zoom, the U.S.

Attorney’s Office in Denver, gotten an arrest warrant for Francis Manello and served

another search warrant at the man’s house. He and a team of agents had tossed the

house from top to bottom. Forensics was dumping every scrap of information on

Manello’s computer, but all Evan could think about was that Polaroid. He still couldn’t

believe it, but it was her—Gracie—wearing the same pink shirt she’d had on the last

time he’d seen her. Guilt squeezed his heart tighter than a bank vault door.

 

Focus, dammit! Focus!

“Blue, come.” He hitched his head to the dog who’d been his

 

partner for more than four years.

 

As Blue trotted to the bed, Evan pointed, and his dog situated

himself between Marlie and the bed and rested his head on the edge of the mattress.

Despite Blue’s size, Marlie didn’t cringe or back away.

 

“Can I pet him?” Noah looked at Evan expectantly.

“You bet. That’s what I brought him for.” Pretty much every kid

Noah’s age wanted a dog. A dog’s attention and comfort were great for improving

emotional health, especially after a traumatic experience. The only thing necessary was

for the dog to be gentle and friendly, which Blue was. Except when hunting down a

homicidal felon.

 

It wasn’t quite a smile, but the corners of Marlie’s pink, full lips lifted

a fraction as she watched Noah pet Blue. She had the most interesting face he’d ever

seen. Heart-shaped. Yet it was her eyes that drew him in. Eyes were the windows to the

soul, and he wondered about hers.

 

“He likes having his ears stroked,” Evan said, casting a glance over

his shoulder. The good doctor, who looked eerily like an undertaker, would be back soon

with those extra chairs. Noah didn’t like the man. Getting him out the door, even for a

few minutes, seemed like a stellar idea.

 

Blue leaned into the boy’s hand and groaned like he’d just scarfed

down a meaty T-bone. The deep rumble in the back of Blue’s throat made Noah giggle.

He hadn’t quite reached adolescence and still had the high-pitched voice of youth.

“Do you like dogs?” he asked, taking the first step in his forensic

 

interview of the boy: establishing rapport.

He nodded.

 

In the interest of not towering over the bed, Evan sat in the vacant chair, leaving

Kinnemara, the FBI’s Office for Victim Assistance advocate, standing quietly by the

door.

 

Normally, he’d approach any interview with methodical calm, but

that Polaroid of his sister made him feel like a powder keg with a little fuse. He wanted

to trash protocol and dive right in. With children, rushing in too quickly could be

disastrous. “Did you ever have a dog before?”

 

Noah shook his head, his attention still focused on Blue. “I wanted

 

one, but Sheila and Mike—my foster parents—wouldn’t let me.”

 

No surprise there. Noah Lund’s background check had included his

former foster parents. Sheila and Mike Hamilton had been too busy peddling drugs out

their back door to care about anyone else. He’d bet they’d only taken Noah in to get

state money for fostering a child. The state’s screening process was seriously flawed.

More like, seriously sucked.

Evan caught Marlie scrutinizing him. The haunted look in her eyes had been

replaced by something else. Suspicion. Still drilling him with those piercing blue eyes,

she rested a hand on Noah’s shoulder, telling him something else—North Metro’s

custodian was protective of the boy. Somehow, in the span of only two days, they’d

formed a bond, one he needed to be cautious of. Perhaps, take advantage of.

“Do you like baseball?” The kid’s pjs were baseball-themed.

“Yeah.” Noah kept petting Blue.

“Me too. I played in school.”

Finally, the boy looked up. “What position?”

“Centerfield. You?”

Noah shrugged. “Don’t know. Never played on a team. Just

 

with Caleb.”

 

“Who’s Caleb?” He already knew the kid had no siblings and

 

no other blood relatives the state was aware of.

 

“My friend. I think he got caught. He—”

Caught?

Squealing came from the hallway as Dr. Strobie wheeled in

two more chairs, positioning one beside Evan’s and leaving the other at the foot of the

bed for Kinnemara.

 

Strobie sat and scooted his chair closer. Noah stopped

petting Blue and tugged the sheet on his lap higher, gripping it tightly in his fists, as if

forming a protective shield. The kid really didn’t like the hospital shrink. If he could eject

the doc from the room, he gladly would. The man’s presence had the same effect as

slapping a strip of duct tape over the boy’s mouth. Strobie had also procured a legal-

size notepad and sat poised with a ballpoint pen in his hand.

 

This guy was a pain in the ass. The best way to establish

rapport and trust with a child was to show them you were listening and that you cared.

Not by writing down every word.

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**Don’t miss the other books in the series!**
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Find them on Amazon!

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Tee O’Fallon is
the author of the Federal K-9 Series and the NYPD Blue & Gold Series. Tee
has been a federal agent for twenty-three years and is now a police
investigator, giving her hands-on experience in the field of law enforcement
that she combines with her love of romantic suspense. When not writing, Tee
enjoys cooking, gardening, chocolate, lychee martinis, and spending time with
her Belgian Sheepdogs Loki and Kyrie. Tee loves hearing from readers and can be
contacted via her website https://teeofallon.com where you can also sign up for
Tee’s newsletters.

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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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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.

A Broken Reflection by Shelly M. Patel ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: October 30, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, Mystery, suspense
Tags: , , ,
2
A BROKEN REFLECTION
by Shelly M. Patel
October 7 – November 1, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

In the game of deception and betrayal, nothing is ever as it seems, not even murder. Secrets would be revealed in the dead of night, and lives would be changed forever. With each body count rising, Claire and Stephen began to unveil the truth, exposing the dark side of their seemingly perfect lives. In the shadows, Jessica watched from the sidelines with grave anticipation, ready to take hold of her moment. The game of cat and mouse had begun. Will Claire and Stephen be able to ride out the storm and rebuild their lives? Will Jessica seal her place next to Stephen no matter what the cost? Will the killer ever be caught?

 

 

 

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery/Suspense

Published by: Self-Published Publication Date: October 2024 Number of Pages: 256 ISBN: 9798350963038

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

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MY REVIEW

A Broken Reflection is tagged as mystery and suspense. And it proves so true.

There are multiple characters with their own points of view and boy are there a lot of skeletons in their closets. As each struggles to sort out truth from lie, people start to die.

The suspense was intense. I didn’t know who was lying, what was true and all those other who, what and why’s. If I was one to wring my hands, I would have. It was a good thing the chapters were short. It made it easy for me to power through this book so I could satisfy my curiosity and catch my breath.  The ending was so worth it.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Chapter 1
Claire
It’s probably going to sound crazy to you, but I felt as though someone was watching me all the time, night, and day. You know how it is—you sense these things. Well, I did, anyway. That’s right; I could sense it. A hole the size of a crater slowly burned in the back of my head, created by their stares. By ‘they,’ it wasn’t clear who it was that watched me yet. But they were there, for sure. An eerie silence had seemed to follow me everywhere, and it was impossible to shake that feeling of someone observing from afar. Someone spying, tracking me. Knowing everything… I shook my head quickly as if it could banish the intrusiveness from my head. Damn, these wretched thoughts! I said to myself. But every time, a chill would run down my spine like icy fingertips tracing their way up and down my back. Taunting me, Poking fun at me. My eyes darted, nervously searching for any sign of movement in the crowd, but there wasn’t anyone out of place; everyone seemed totally normal. Well, except for me, of course. Okay, I’m just exaggerating, but you know how it is when you feel pursued like that. I almost dared not glance back, afraid to ask who it could be, feeling as if they were observing me again, peering in on everything like a pervert. The idea sent shivers up my spine, making the hair on my arms and back stand on end. And my gut clenched as if it would make me vomit, just that sensation of someone there, knowing everything I did, every tiny move. Initially, a tingling came to my scalp, which gradually traveled down my head and neck before settling into the back of my skull. It was the same nervousness that had pervaded me when taking my dental admission test; it was that cold bite gnawing at my gut, a feeling unwilling to go away. This was a warning, and that was clear; a terrible thing was about to occur. It was an omen, a premonition if you like. Something very bad would be coming my way. Soon. To try and regain my composure, I closed my eyes. There was little doubt that if Stephen had overheard me saying all this, he’d have me committed to a mental institution. I needed to zero down on the task at hand. So, I took a half-day off work, using it to come here. I’m all by myself now. See. Look around! Who can wish me harm? Choosing the proper dress for the charity ball hadn’t been easy either; after all, who liked wasting time wandering from store to store? I supposed some girls didn’t mind it. Some even claimed to like shopping. As for me, it was loathsome, a chore, and irritating. However, the attire had to be suitable for the occasion. The planning committee had chosen to preserve the masquerade ball theme for this year’s event. Phyllis was in charge this year, so Stephen and I wanted to show our support. I had little interest in the woman, but as Stephen often reminded me, I should “be nice, Claire.” He played golf with her husband, Bob, you see, and Bob happened to be Stephen’s long-time friend and business partner. Both were decent guys; they wanted me to back Phyllis up and ensure the event went well. It was something I had to do—according to Stephen. And Stephen was never wrong about this kind of thing, was he? But Phyllis was the kind of person who always seemed to try too hard. She needed to be liked to extremes, so she was a bit of a people pleaser, always fussing about something. It all had to be just so, just perfect. So annoying. Everyone had to love everything about her, big or small as if she would implode if you missed a moment’s flattery. Phyllis had an oblong face framed by a short blonde bob hairstyle that she thought made her look stylish and sophisticated, but to me, it smacked of desperation and made her look maternal. But despite this, people seemed to love her enthusiastic and friendly demeanor. Phyllis would pop up no matter where she went or what group she joined. “Everything all right for you, dear?” Or “Oh, your hair is lovely, dear,” she would say. Or “Wherever did you buy such a divine dress?” “Look at you,” she enthused. “Your makeup is so on point today! Very pretty, sweetie.” Ugh. Her words were creepy, all this excessive enthusiasm about every topic imaginable. I’d look around me when it happened, and the weird thing was that everyone around Phyllis looked as if they felt charmed by her efforts. But weren’t they ultimately exhausted from all the energy being thrown their way, like I was? And then there was that other thing—the other side of her. *** Excerpt from A Broken Reflection by Shelly M. Patel. Copyright 2024 by Shelly M. Patel. Reproduced with permission from Shelly M. Patel. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Shelly M. Patel:

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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.

Catch Up With Shelly M. Patel: BooksByShelly.com Goodreads BookBub – @shellymauthor Instagram – @shellympatel Facebook – @ShellyPatelauthor

 

 

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Frozen Lives by Jennifer Graeser Dornbush ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: October 24, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, suspense, thriller
Tags: , , ,
2
FROZEN LIVES
by Jennifer Graeser Dornbush
October 7 – November 1, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

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Synopsis:
A Coroner’s Daughter Mystery

 

Dr. Emily Hartford is back in Frozen Lives, the next thrilling mystery from Jennifer Graeser Dornbush.

Chicago surgeon Emily Hartford has never quite shaken off the dust of her hometown in Michigan. She may be a professional success and have a princely boyfriend in the Windy City, but she can’t seem to let go of being “the coroner’s daughter” from Freeport. Once again, she finds herself pulled back upstate during a wintery late March when Jeremiah, the eleven year-old son of her best friend, Jo, goes missing on the frigid shores of Lake Michigan. Emily immediately joins the search for the boy. To everyone’s relief, Jeremiah turns up days later, alive and unharmed. But tensions remain high, and suspicions of every sort continue to grow. Jeremiah’s account of his abduction doesn’t add up and Emily worries about Jo’s unraveling marriage. Jeremiah’s recovery, it turns out, is not the end of their terrifying tale. It’s only the beginning … For moving among them is a devious, malevolent force. Sowing panic while seeking to fulfill his own twisted needs, this wolf in sheep’s clothing leaves a trail of rack and ruin, negligent to the damages in his wake … and the bodies he leaves behind. Emily solidifies her role as coroner’s daughter when she puzzles out this madman’s chilling machinations. Risking everything dear to her, Emily goes the icy distance to end his killing spree.

Praise for Frozen Lives:

“Fast paced, engaging, evocative.” ~ J.A. Jance “FROZEN LIVES is what a thriller should be—dark, twisty, and oh so scary. Lock your doors and enjoy.” ~ DP Lyle, award-winning author of the Jake Longly and Cain/Harper thriller series and co-creator of the Outliers Writing University “Jennifer Dornbush scares the living hell out of me. When I want to stay up all night, I just read one of her books, and Frozen Lives doesn’t disappoint. On par with Dennis Lehane’s Mystic River, Frozen Lives weaves a terrifying tale of evil, paranoia and when you go to bed at night make sure your doors are locked tight. A terrific story.” ~ Don Bruns, USA Today Best Selling Author “Chilling! Jennifer Dornbush has crafted a thriller that haunts the mind and can keep you deep in the pages into the wee hours! A not to miss psychological mystery with twists and turns throughout.” ~ Heather Graham

 

Book Details:

Genre: thriller, suspense, female detective

Published by: Blackstone Publishing Publication Date: October 29, 2024 Number of Pages: 350 ISBN: 9798212638364 Series: The Coroner’s Daughter Mysteries, 4

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Blackstone Publishing

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MY REVIEW

I read the exciting synopsis for Frozen Lives and knew I had to read it. The story takes place in Michigan and I was born there. Got me curious.

Emily dropped everything and rushed to the icy shores of Lake Michigan upon learning her best friends young son had disappeared. Miraculously, he reappeared days later with a story that didn’t compute. Thus the mystery deepened. And the closer Emily got to the truth, the most dangerous things became.

When the opening scene grips me, I get excited, cross my fingers and toes and hope the rest of the book is just as gripping. And it was. The author had me coming and going, with no solid idea of the who, what and why. And the characters were genuine. Not perfect, just human beings.

And the villain of the story. It doesn’t have to be a creature or something supernatural to make you fear the dark.

As I got closer to the end, I hoped the author would make it a killer one. Done deal!

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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About Author Jennifer Graeser Dornbush:

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Jennifer Graeser Dornbush

The television or movie screen is the closest most people will ever come to witnessing the forensic world. But Jennifer Dornbush was raised in it. As the daughter of a small-town medical examiner whose office was in their home. There were body parts in the fridge. She investigated her first fatality, an airplane crash, when she was 8 years old. Picking up pieces of skull with her father who simply saw it as an anatomy lesson. The first of many coroner lessons she experienced over two decades. After exploring journalism and high school teaching, Jennifer turned seriously to screenwriting where she began to connect her coroner world to her writing. She sought out a degree at the Forensic Science Academy in Los Angeles to gain more forensic training and earned a unique kinship with LA’s top CSIs, fingerprint specialists, DNA scientists, and detectives. To share her love of forensics with the writing world, she authored the top selling non-fiction authoritative book, Forensic Speak, used by not only by show-runners and writers, but also crime investigators and law enforcement. She created an Amazon top selling mystery novel series, The Coroner’s Daughter, which she is currently developing as a series for TV. Her crime thriller, Hole in the Woods, is currently optioned for screen. She is a contributor to mystery anthologies, Hotel California and Thriller. She has also penned two true crime books. As a screenwriter Jennifer wrote the theatrically released film and novel, God Bless the Broken Road (2018), adapted a popular YA novel to script, and sold a children’s show. She is currently developing TV drama series and feature films with various productions companies. As a forensic consultant, she is frequently asked to consult with TV writers on shows such as: Bull, Conviction, Hawaii Five-O, Leverage, Suits, and Rectify. She teaches screenwriting and mentors aspiring writers. Jennifer is a member of the Writers’ Guild of America, Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, Crime Writers Association, & the FBI Citizen’s Academy Alumni.

Catch Up With Jennifer Graeser Dornbush: www.JenniferDornbush.com Goodreads BookBub – @jgdornbush1 Instagram – @jgdornbush YouTube – @ForensicSpeakJenniferDornbush Facebook – @JGDornbush

 

 

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A Little Getaway by Bonnie Traymore ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: October 19, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, suspense, thriller
Tags: , ,
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A Little Getaway

by Bonnie Traymore

 

Publication date: October 9th 2024
Genres: Adult, Suspense, Thriller

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“Traymore’s page-turner is a tension-filled psychological thriller, where the line between friend and foe is razor thin.” Tracey Devlin, USA TODAY bestselling author

A little getaway takes a deadly turn for Morgan and Kyle Murphy in this spicy suspense thriller about a marriage filled with passion, dark secrets, and suspicions.

Morgan Murphy has always longed for a romance for the ages. And she’s found it with the love of her life, husband Kyle Murphy—until their spicy marriage suddenly starts to cool off.

Is Kyle preoccupied and distant because of a problem with his development project? Or is it something worse? Could Kyle Murphy be…cheating? He’s hiding something, that’s for sure. And Morgan’s determined to find out what it is.

With the help of gal pal Carla Flores, Morgan tracks her husband’s movements, and the signs increasingly point to infidelity, the ultimate sin in Morgan’s book. When Kyle increases their life insurance and surprises her with a weekend getaway to get their mojo back, she goes on the offensive and hatches a plan to make him come clean about what’s been going on.

But before she can pull it off, Morgan’s attacked and nearly kidnapped, and Kyle vanishes from the resort without a trace. With no clue as to who took Kyle or why, she’s not sure who is the biggest threat: the shady investor he owes money to, the police, or the guys she hired to teach Kyle a lesson. With the clock ticking, she needs to find out soon.

Before they come for her, too.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Morgan

I smell death in the air. A briny scent with an undercurrent of decay, wafting in from the murky sea outside our sliding glass door.

“Kyle?” I call out again.

Nothing.

Maybe he went for a walk on the beach?

But that wasn’t the plan.

Something’s not right.

I close the door and lock it.

Where did he go?

A log pops in the fireplace, and I startle. This was supposed to be a romantic little getaway, but so far, things have been tense.

“I have a surprise for you, Morgan,” he said, about a week ago.

So here I am, in this little cottage on the beach that he picked for us, in the middle of nowhere, a few miles north of Monterey Bay. A chance to rekindle our marriage. Put some spark back into it. The resort, if you could call it that, is a series of separate units on a vast swath of beachfront land, one step up from a trailer park. I suppose it could be romantic under different circumstances, with the rugged beach outside our door and a cozy fire inside.

I have a bad feeling, though. I came out of the shower and saw a few drops of blood in the bathroom sink. I figured he’d cut himself shaving. And now he’s nowhere to be found. A chill runs up my spine. This place is getting creepier by the minute. Do I wait here like a sitting duck?

The office is on the other side of the property, and I’m not sure if anyone’s there at this hour of the night. It’s not that late. Just after nine in the evening. But even when we checked in, around noon, it took a good twenty minutes for the woman to come to the front desk and help us.

I don’t want to overreact, so I decide I’ll take the car and drive to the store.

Better safe than sorry.

We talked about the fact that I needed milk for my morning coffee. It’ll buy me some time, and when I get back, maybe he’ll be here, wondering where I’ve been. And if it turns out to be nothing, I can keep this little freak out to myself.

But we took his car, so I have to find the keys. I rush into the bedroom and look around. I thought I saw them on the dresser, but they’re not there.

His pants are draped over the back of a chair.

I check the pockets.

Nothing.

My heart starts to race.

I rifle through his carry-on bag.

No luck.

His cell is gone, along with his wallet. I wonder if he went out for provisions while I was in the shower? But the car is parked near the office, a few cottages away, so I can’t see if he’s taken it. I pick up the house phone and call the front desk, thinking maybe the attendant could check if the car is there. It rings and rings and nobody answers.

My heart races even faster. Rushing into the kitchen area, I survey the options. I grab the utility knife. With its five-inch blade, it’s the best option. This is a risky move. I’ll look like a psycho walking around with it if someone sees me, and the last thing I want is to call attention to myself. But the place seems deserted, so it’s unlikely I’ll be spotted.

Who comes to a beach resort in the middle of winter?

This was his idea, I remind myself.

And now I’m here.

Alone.

At a deserted resort.

Clenching the knife in my fist, I step out the sliding glass door and start making my way to the front office.

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About Author Bonnie Traymore:

Bonnie Traymore is the Amazon Bestselling author of seven domestic/psychological thrillers. Her thrillers feature strong but relatable female protagonists who peel back the layers of suburban American life and give readers a peek inside. 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.

Bonnie has a doctorate in United States history and has taught at top independent high schools as well as Columbia University and the University of Hawaii. Originally from the NYC area, she resides in Honolulu with her family.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Twitter

 

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Barristers & Bones by J. L. Brannick ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: October 8, 2024 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways, suspense
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Barristers & Bones

by J. L. Brannick

 

(Las Vegas House of Spades, #1)
Publication date: October 15th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Dark Comedy, Dark Romance, Romantic Suspense

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A hot, morally gray mentor out for revenge. A sprawling funeral home. Torture, mayhem, and a Las Vegas wedding she can’t remember.

Luna needs to complete an internship to graduate, but staying alive suddenly takes priority when she’s paired with the cold, starkly handsome attorney from hell. Roman Fowler is an infamous partner at the most notorious law firm in Las Vegas, and he’s harboring deadly secrets and searching for retribution. And when he forces her hand, their chemistry explodes.

But she’s not a helpless, scared child anymore. The House of Spades–her adopted family–is a powerful, violent, oddly close-knit clan that has a hands-on, DIY approach to taking care of “life’s little problems.” They’re still deciding if Roman is a problem when Luna’s dark past threatens.

Can they fight the danger and menace together? Or will the monsters win again?

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

He smirked and walked over, wrapping his arms around me. “Why do I feel there’s no right answer here?”

My lips quirked. “Because you’re smart, but you never listen.”
He bent down and sniffed my neck. “I do listen to you, especially when you’re

making those sexy little whimpers while I’m–”
I put my hand over his mouth. “If you start with the dirty talk, we’ll never make it

to Ezra’s house for dinner.”

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About Author J. L. Brannick:

J. L. Brannick lives in the desert with her family and fur babies. She works as an attorney, and detoxes by taking long hikes and exploring old Western ghost towns while plotting her novels. She graduated from law school in Las Vegas, Nevada where she quickly realized that truth can be stranger than fiction.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / TikTok / Newsletter

 

 

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Insensible Loss by Linda L. Richards ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 27, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, suspense, thriller
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Insensible Loss by Linda L. Richards Banner

INSENSIBLE LOSS
by Linda L. Richards
September 9 – October 4, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
The Endings Series

 

Her life is over . . . yet somehow she carries on

After attempting to sever all ties to her life as a hired assassin, a woman struggles to understand who she has become. She knows she doesn’t want to kill again–but it proves to be a difficult habit to break, particularly in a world where people are after her and those she loves most. Adrift and disconnected, she meets an old woman: Imogen O’Brien, a world-famous artist who has spent the last three decades living a hermit-like existence on a rustic desert estate in a national forest. Imogen invites her to stay and work for her, offering mentorship in return as the woman deepens her own interest in art. What quickly becomes apparent is that elements of Imogen’s past are shrouded in danger, sorrow, and darkness. Rather than growing as an artist, the former hitwoman soon finds herself enmeshed in a dangerous mystery with strands that stretch decades into the past.

Praise for Insensible Loss:

“Deception, loss, and the past all collide in this propulsive thriller. A skillfully crafted plot combined with memorable characters makes Insensible Loss a must read.” ~ James L’Etoile, award-winning author of Face of Greed and the Detective Nathan Parker series

 

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller/Suspense

Published by: Oceanview Publishing Publication Date: September 17, 2024 Number of Pages: 320 ISBN: 978-1608095148 Series: The Endings Series, Book 4 | Each is a Stand-Alone

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

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MY REVIEW

I’ve been wanting to try this series. My plan was to start at the beginning but, even though I started further into the series, this easily read as a stand alone. Mind you, I do plan to go back and start at the beginning now. The characters are so genuine and the main protagonist is an assassin trying to leave that world behind. Her name is never revealed. She’s been living in a forest with her dog. His name we do get to know, Phil.

Phil is the reason she’s where she is now. He took off and chasing after him led her to Imogene, an artist living in seclusion. The older woman offers her a job. Okay, that’s a good start. But Imogene lives secluded for a reason and the former assassin will have to use her talents once again.

In suspense thrillers I usually expect a whopping opening and loads of action throughout. Insensible loss didn’t go that way. It was quieter suspense and thrills. Sneaky ones the author made sure you might not see coming. I didn’t feel an urgency to keep reading, but in a way, I did. I’d think, okay, this is a good place to stop for now. Then, I’d keep reading. Like when you’re eating a snack and think I’ll just eat one more. This book made me hungry for more.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
CHAPTER ONE
I am gazing into an abyss. When I plant my feet on the edge of the cliff, all I see is a canyon yawing below me. I see the canyon, and my feet, tightly laced into trail runners. Below and beyond my tidy feet, red rock can be seen everywhere, edges softened by millennia, but deadly still. And steep. Arcadia Bluff. It has a gentle sound, this location. But the reality is anything but gentle. A rough rawness that would seem to be able to accommodate anything one pitched in that direction. Wild west. There’s that, but also more. The secrets of an earth so raw and new, it doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up. It happens that the physical landscape matches what is going on in my heart, but this is mere coincidence. And anyway, everything is connected. I am in a remote part of one of the largest national parks in the United States, and I am all alone, but for my dog. Again, aside from that dog, I feel as if I have been alone for my whole life, but that isn’t true. What is true: everyone I’ve ever loved is dead. Some of them by my hand. But all of that was before. Here is now. I stand on Arcadia Bluff and the canyon below my feet seems to careen out endlessly. The aforementioned abyss. The red rock, dotted by trees and even the occasional cactus, seeming to sprout from the rock at odd angles, because the perpendicular drop doesn’t support normal growth. In the distance, far below me, I see a sliver of silvery blue. Maybe it’s a river or the edge of a lake, but when I look straight down, between my feet, I see nothing but rock and cactus and peril. It gives me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach to look down, so I try to avoid doing that. We drove in my old Volvo to get here, the dog and I. The car is dear to me. I’ve had it a long time and it performs elegantly. Like a tank. An elegant tank. It is a premium car, or it was, but now it is ancient. In good condition, but unremarkable, one of the things about it that I’ve always cherished: it has never drawn comment. And no one would suspect that under the trunk’s false bottom they would find two Bersa Thunder 380 handguns and a whole lot of cash. The car is now my home, my armory, and my bank. Who needs anything more? Well, maybe I do. But never mind. The journey, that’s the thing. To get here, the path we traveled in that old Volvo is a forestry road. The road is marked on maps as little more than a trail. It is unpaved and unremarked. And putting it that way—the path we traveled—makes it sound like a destination. It wasn’t that. It is just the place where, for the moment, we have ended up. When this moment is complete, we’ll travel some more. Maybe come to something else. It’s what we have now, this life made of almost nothing. As you will have guessed, this state of near nothing didn’t happen overnight. A while ago I left behind the hollowed-out shell of the life I had created. The sham. The farce. The life in which I lived while I processed all of my grief. Tried to process all of my grief. Do you know what I discovered? You don’t process grief. It lives inside you, waiting for you to trot through the minefield that is life. Waiting for you to make just that one step and the grief explodes back into your face. If you were to process it—like cheese, like peanut butter—at a certain point it would be smooth and glossy and perfectly digestible. Consume it and forget it. But grief isn’t like that. It waits around because all it actually wants is to bite you in the ass. I sound bitter. The tonic in a vodka drink. I don’t mean to, but there you are. Sometimes what you feel overrides everything you know. After I left said reconstructed and hollowed-out life, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was basically—entirely?—homeless. My dog. And me. Homeless and aimless. I had my car. Several handguns. A few small things that I had come to treasure. And a whole whack of cash. The cash was necessary, because this is what I no longer possessed: any form of identification or credit cards. Or anything that said I was a person at all. I had simply disappeared. You mostly can’t do that forever. A myriad of small things will trip you up. You can’t travel by air. You can’t book a motel. You can’t call an Uber. Or bank. When you start to think about it, there are more things you can’t do than what you can. After a while you need a landing spot. And you need a plan. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Here goes another run. Once upon a time—like a fairy story—I was a mom. A wife. A cornerstone of my community. I had a house. A pebble-tech pool. A minivan with leather seats and televised communication. I had all of the accoutrements of suburbia, right down to the suburb. Tree-lined streets that I traveled to get to my job and take my kid to his school. I had attractive but not fiendishly manicured lawns. A home. That’s what it was. My husband, my son. Me. We were a family. We had a home. One day there was an accident. People were killed. My child. Ultimately my husband, too. I was unexpectedly alone. All I had was a whole bunch of mortgaged crap I hadn’t even dreamed of wanting in the first place. After a while of being alone and having no money, I needed a new job and I started taking contracts to kill people. You see how my narrative breaks down right there? I mean, everything was going along well, from a storytelling standpoint. I’d engaged your sympathy. Maybe even your interest. And then— boom!—I blow all that goodwill with a simple revelation. Yes. Killing people. For money. What kind of nice lady does that? No kind, that’s what. But it let’s you know at least part of why I run. And so here we are. Standing on the edge of a cliff. And I’m not expecting to jump.

CHAPTER TWO

Lately I’ve noticed that I have become afraid of the dark. It doesn’t make sense to me. I am aware of no new trauma that might have led to this condition. Nyctophobia. I have read about it. I have googled, as they say. I’ve “done some research.” So I know a little about the condition that currently plagues me. I’ve read that it is fairly normal or, at least, not uncommon. I’ve read, also, that fear is healthy. In our natural state, I guess, fear is what keeps us alive and safe. For months, I have found myself waking from peaceful slumber and moving to instant terror when the dark is encountered. The dog smells the fear, or at least that is what I guess. When I wake in this way, I can hear him rustling about as he comes to me. He lays his muzzle on whatever part of me he can reach: my hand or my arm or even a bit of toe. And he’ll stay there like that, breathing quietly, until my demons have passed, or I turn on a light. Usually, I turn on a light. There are things you can do, that’s what I’ve read, as well. And there is evolved language around it. You can deal with your triggers or work at desensitizing yourself to darkness. This sort of healthy self-examination has never been my forte, and so after a while, I come up with my own solution: I begin to sleep with the light on. It keeps the demons at bay. All of this would probably be of more concern if we had a home anymore, the dog and I. But we don’t. As I said, we are traveling, no destination in mind other than a vague and distant future that at present has no shape. Every day, we cover many miles in the Volvo. The forestry roads in Arizona’s Cathedral National Park seem endless. The park itself seems endless, as well. We keep traveling, only occasionally surfacing for fuel or other supplies. We do that at small gas stations either within the park or just on the outskirts. Places that take cash and don’t ask questions. Then we delve right back into the depths of the park. We just drive and drive and drive, stopping only for calls of the body, as well as those infrequent times when I run out of steam. At those times, since we are out—literally and actually—in the middle of nowhere, I just stop the car, then pitch the small tent that lives over top of the false bottom of the trunk. And then I try to rest. The closest I ever get to actual rest is when the dog settles down somewhere near me, then gets to snoring peacefully. Something about that sound is hypnotic to me. I’ll surf behind it until, sometimes, falling under the spell of the simple, primal cadence, I fall asleep. In and out, in and out. I float away on a column of dog snores that lead to core sleep, when my subconscious scrambles to make up for time lost. In the morning we pack up and head out again. Where are we going? Why? I don’t have answers. I don’t even have questions. All I know is that everything is behind me. I’m not hopeful about what is in front of me, but it’s better than going back. Everyone knows that you can’t go back. *** Excerpt from Insensible Loss by Linda L. Richards. Copyright 2024 by Linda L. Richards. Reproduced with permission from Linda L. Richards. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Linda L. Richards:

 

.Linda L. Richards is the award-winning author of over a dozen books. The founder and publisher of January Magazine and a contributing editor to the crime fiction blog The Rap Sheet, she is best known for her strong female protagonists in the thriller genre. Richards is from Vancouver, Canada and currently makes her home in Phoenix, Arizona. New for 2024: INSENSIBLE LOSS, the fourth book in the Endings series featuring a reluctant hit woman struggling towards the light. Linda’s 2021 novel, the first in this series, ENDINGS, was recently optioned by a major studio for series production. Richards is an accomplished horsewoman and an avid tennis player, and is on the National Board of Sisters in Crime.

 
Catch Up With Linda L. Richards: LindaLRichards.com Goodreads – @lindalrichards BookBub – @linda1841 Instagram – @lindalrichards Threads – @lindalrichards Twitter/X – @lindalrichards Facebook – @lindalrichardsauthor

 

 

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