Genre: Thriller Published by: Witness Impulse Publication Date: May 15th 2018 Number of Pages: 96 ISBN: 0062879324 (ISBN13: 9780062879325) Series: Nora Watts #1.5 Grab Your Copy of In the Grip Of It:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Synopsis
On a surveillance assignment for a child custody case, PI-in-training Nora Watts finds herself ensconced in a small farming community on a beautiful hippie island in the Pacific Northwest, a place with a reputation for being welcoming to outsiders. But when she arrives there, she discovers her welcome quickly wears thin. Perhaps too quickly.
Salt Spring Island, with a history as a refuge for African Americans fleeing the bonds of slavery, is not a place of refuge for her—and, she suspects, may not be for the people who live there, either.
As she investigates, nothing about this remote community seems to add up. It gets personal as Nora confronts her own complicated feelings toward her estranged daughter and becomes increasingly concerned about the child she’s been tasked to surveil. She discovers that small, idyllic communities can hide very big secrets.
~~~~~
Check out the excerpt:
Last week a man came into our PI office, looked around the shabby interior, frowned, and said, “I must have gotten the address wrong.”
“Depends,” I replied. “What are you looking for?”
“An investigator.”
“Nope, you’re in the right place,” I said, looking at his nice suit, shiny shoes, and expensive watch.
“Are you sure? Maybe I should come back later.”
He was clearly trying to make a graceful exit. Before the man could leave, I got up from behind my desk and opened the door to Leo Krushnik’s office. “Leo, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Well,” said the man, who was hesitating behind me, “I’m not really sure that this is the right fit for me.” He was trying to be diplomatic about the condition of our office and what it might say about his own level of desperation that he was here, but we weren’t about to let a potential client go without a fight. His level of desperation was no match for ours.
Leo Krushnik, the head of our little operation, walked around his desk and beamed at the man. “We’re the right fit for anybody,” he said, grasping the man’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “We prefer to keep our overhead low so that we can offer competitive rates to people who need our services, regardless of their personal incomes. Please, have a seat.”
The man sat, a little overwhelmed by Leo’s charm, which is considerable. That day Leo was dressed in linen pants and a simple cotton shirt, as a nod to the heat wave the city was experiencing. He could pull off this look as easily as he pulled off the lie about our rates. We keep our overhead low because this dump on Hastings Street, in the derelict Downtown Eastside of Vancouver, is all we can afford, but clients didn’t need to know that. And even I could admit that the “competitive rates” line sounded good—even true—coming from Leo.
“How can I help you?” Leo asked.
“My name is Ken Barnes, and I’m concerned about my son, Trevor. My ex-wife Cheyenne moved to Salt Spring last year with Trevor and I think she’s gotten into some kind of trouble there. She won’t bring him back to Vancouver and visitation has been difficult.”
Leo frowned. “Because they’re on an island?” Salt Spring wouldn’t be easy to ferry to and from on a regular basis.
“Yes, but that’s not the only reason. She keeps putting off my visits and it’s been difficult to arrange for Trevor to come into Vancouver. I think . . . I think she’s in some kind of cult, to be honest. They call it a commune, but you know those stories about Bountiful?”
“Yes,” said Leo. Everyone knew the stories about Bountiful, British Columbia, where fundamentalist polygamous communities live and proliferate seemingly freely.
“Well, I think it’s something like that. Cheyenne wants to be in some kind of crazy sex cult, sure. She’s not my wife anymore and I really don’t care what she does. But I’m fighting for custody of Trevor. I want him out of there.”
“And you need some ammo.” Leo looks up from his pad, where he’s been taking notes. “You’ve come to the right place, Ken. We’ve done surveillance work for many child-custody cases.” Another lie, but Ken didn’t notice. We’d only done a handful of those, but “many” is relative. “You understand that this won’t be cheap? We’ll have to get out to the island and spend some time gathering information.”
“That’s fine. There’s nothing I won’t pay to get my son out of there. Cheyenne, she . . . well, she struggled with depression and anxiety for years and she let a lot of toxic people into her life who fed on her struggles. It was like a sick downward spiral. When she started doing yoga and got certified as a teacher, I thought she’d changed. But I’m not sure anymore. I know this sounds terrible—I know it does—but I don’t trust her judgment about the people she lets into her life. Especially men.”
“She married you,” Leo said.
“I know, but this is the thing: it’s not about me and her anymore. We’re done. This is about Trevor—and me doing my part as a father, making sure he’s safe. That he has a good life. I just want results.”
“We can’t guarantee results.” This is the first time I’d spoken since the initial exchange. Ken Barnes’s startled gaze meets mine. He’d clearly forgotten I was there, which was not unusual. “Maybe it is a sex cult, maybe it isn’t. All we can do is take a look and document what we find.”
“I know that nothing is certain, but I know my son deserves a healthy, normal life. Whatever they’re doing on that island is not normal. It just isn’t. It’s one step away from homeschooling, and who’s to say they’re not making him do hard labor?”
What is normal, anyway? I didn’t ask Barnes for clarification. I just kept silent as Leo agreed to take his money in exchange for the work. Before he let Barnes go, he pulled him aside. “Nora’s right, Ken, about any sort of guarantee. But what I can say is that if there’s something to find, chances are we will get a sense of it.”
In the next few days, I started the file on Cheyenne Barnes and looked through the information Ken had provided us. “Cheyenne scrubbed her social-media profiles last year,” he explained to me, over the phone. “I thought she was punishing me by erasing the memories and keeping me away from what’s happening with my son, but now that I think about it, there’s something fishy about this whole thing.” So he kept saying.
Cheyenne is smiling in all the photos, and in every single one there is something wistful about her, a faraway look in her eyes. Something that suggests a romantic nature. She’s an instructor for hot yoga, which I thought was stretching for attractive people but later discovered is actually sweaty stretching. Who knew. She’d gone to Salt Spring Island two years ago to work at a yoga retreat and, according to Ken, never came back. She met a man there, a fellow yoga enthusiast, and rebuffed all of Ken’s attempts at reconciliation.
There is very little to be found on Cheyenne Barnes’s new man. He has no social-media profiles of his own, but I did find a picture of him on the Spring Love website. Some people are so attractive it’s almost surreal, and Vikram Sharma is one of them.
SHEENA KAMAL holds an HBA in Political Science from the University of Toronto, and was awarded a TD Canada Trust scholarship for community leadership and activism around the issue of homelessness. Her debut novel, The Lost Ones, was inspired by this and by Kamal’s most recent work as a researcher into crime and investigative journalism for the film and television industry.
A Taker of Morrows Stephen Paul Sayers
(Caretakers, #1)
Publication date: June 15th 2018
Genres: Adult, Horror, Supernatural, Thriller
RG Granville has his whole life in front of him…but only twenty-four hours to live it.
Beyond life’s boundaries, an enduring battle between good and evil determines the fate of earthly souls. Here, ‘caretakers’ guard and protect against the evil and vengeful ‘jumpers’ who slip back and forth between worlds to prey upon the living.
For one man, news of his impending demise sets off a deadly chain of events fueled by a jumper’s burning vengeance. Now he’s in a race against time to stop an unrelenting evil unleashed upon the earth. And if he’s to protect his family, and the world, he must breach the tenuous boundary between life and death to confront a killer—and a shocking secret from his long-buried past.
“Hello, Robert.” The stranger advanced toward him. “You’re late.”
RG steadied himself against the entryway table as his heart lurched in his chest, the air thickening like a smothering rag over his face. With gradual boldness, he slid his arm against the wall and triggered the light switch. “What the hell—?”
“I feared we’d missed each other,” the man interrupted. “That would have been a shame. You see, we have a problem to discuss.” His face hardened as he stepped forward, shoes clicking on the hardwood floor.
RG’s pulse quickened. “Who are you?”
“I wish I didn’t have to be here, Robert.” The stranger unfolded his hands from behind his back and stepped forward, “but I have a job to do.”
As the man advanced, RG backpedaled, snatching the old-school, wooden baseball bat stashed behind the coat rack. He never imagined grabbing the lumber for anything other than Tuesday night softball, but now found himself flapping it back and forth in a hardwood batter’s box.
The man took another step. “Death has come for you,” he said, shaking his head, “and no Louisville Slugger will stop it.”
~~~~~
Q&A with Stephen Paul Sayers, author of A Taker of Morrows
Q: What’s your new novel, A Taker of Morrows, about?
A: It’s about a man who’s visited by a stranger, who tells him he’s got twenty-four hours to live. You see, deaths are scheduled and schedules must be kept. In his desperate attempt to stay alive, he discovers the world isn’t what he thought it was, that it’s actually a battleground between the forces of good and evil from the afterlife, a place where ‘caretakers’ protect earthly souls and ‘jumpers’ prey on them…and now he’s become the prey. And if he’s to keep himself and his family alive, he must straddle the boundary between worlds and face the secrets of his past.
In a broader sense, it’s really a story about the nature of life and death, and the eternal price paid for what we carry in our souls.
Q: What inspired you to be a writer?
A: I never set out to be a writer, but after a challenge from my daughter, Kaylee, I decided to write her a novel. I figured I’d write something for her, give it to her some holiday or birthday, and it would collect dust on her bookshelf. But when I started writing, a switch turned on inside me, something I’d never felt before, igniting a passion I didn’t know I had. It helped me finally figure out what I wanted to be when I grow up.
But more importantly, it has solidified a real bond between my daughter and me. She’s an amazing writer who has a full length novel under her belt at age seventeen. We now have this shared thing we do together. We talk about story ideas, read each other’s work. She gave me this great idea in A Taker of Morrows that became a key to the series in my opinion. So, she’s my inspiration.
Q: Why do you write in the genre that you do?
A: My brother and I watched horror movies all the time when we were kids. I think the 70s and 80s were a golden age of horror movies – and we got really into it. That’s also when I discovered Stephen King, and I read just about everything he wrote. That was my base, and no matter what different literary roads I may travel, I always veer back into the genre. Even the horror books I read today transport me back to childhood and reignite those feelings again.
Q: What do you enjoy reading and who are your favorite authors?
A: I have so many authors I love reading in so many genres. I grew up on a steady diet of Stephen King and Peter Straub, so I got a good horror base. I’m also a big fan of a new generation of horror writers, Joe Hill, Paul Cornell, J. Lincoln Fenn, and Paul Tremblay, so I definitely get my fill. I also love writers of suspense and thrillers, especially Jo Nesbo, Dennis LeHane and Randy Wayne White. I’ve recently discovered Melissa Lenhardt’s “Jack McBride” mystery series, which sort of borders on chick lit, and yet I really like it. So, bottom line, I read just about anything.
Q: What do you hope your readers will take away from your work?
A: Horror and thriller fiction should be entertaining, number one. I want readers of my work to feel as if the time spent between the pages was a good investment. If they can escape from their world for a few hours, connect to my characters, and feel like they’ve made some friends they’re going to miss when they turn the final page, then I’ve done my job.
Q: On a lighter note, what are the top five things on your bucket list?
A: Hopefully, I’m not in ‘bucket list’ territory yet, but here goes:
Cage dive with the Cape Cod great white sharks
Stroll across the Abbey Road crosswalk
Drive to Graceland in an RV
Own a 1967 Mercury Cougar XR7 convertible
Gain the advantage over my Gibson SG
~~~~~
Author Stephen Paul Sayers
Stephen Paul Sayers grew up on the sands of Cape Cod and spent his first thirty-five years in New England before joining the University of Missouri as a research professor. When he’s not in his laboratory, he spends his time writing and devouring his favorite forms of genre fiction—horror, suspense, and thrillers. His short fiction has appeared in Unfading Daydream. A Taker of Morrows is his debut novel and the first in the planned Caretakers series.
Throughout his journey, he has accumulated five guitars, four herniated discs, three academic degrees, two dogs, and one wife, son, and daughter. He divides his time between Columbia, Missouri and Cape Cod writing and teaching.
Recently settled in Hode’s Hill,
Pennsylvania, Maya Sinclair is enthralled by the town’s folklore,
especially the legend about a centuries-old monster. A devil-like
creature with uncanny abilities responsible for several horrific
murders, the Fiend has evolved into the stuff of urban myth. But the
past lives again when Maya witnesses an assault during the annual
“Fiend Fest.” The victim is developer Leland Hode, patriarch of
the town’s most powerful family, and he was attacked by someone
dressed like the Fiend.
Compelled to discover who is behind the
attack and why, Maya uncovers a shortlist of enemies of the Hode
clan. The mystery deepens when she finds the journal of a late
nineteenth-century spiritualist who once lived in Maya’s house—a
woman whose ghost may still linger. Known as the Blue Lady of Hode’s
Hill due to a genetic condition, Lucinda Glass vanished without a
trace and was believed to be one of the Fiend’s tragic victims. The
disappearance of a young couple, combined with more sightings of the
monster, trigger Maya to join forces with Leland’s son Collin. But
the closer she gets to the truth, the closer she comes to a hidden
world of twisted secrets, insanity, and evil that refuses to die…
Mae Clair opened a Pandora’s
Box of characters when she was a child and never looked back. Her
father, an artist who tinkered with writing, encouraged her to create
make-believe worlds by spinning tales of far-off places on summer
nights beneath the stars.
Mae loves creating character-driven
fiction in settings that vary from contemporary to mythical. Wherever
her pen takes her, she flavors her stories with conflict, romance and
elements of mystery. Married to her high school sweetheart, she lives
in Pennsylvania and is passionate about writing, old photographs, a
good Maine lobster tail and cats.
Malevolent Sadness Julian Coleman
(The Prophet’s Mother, #2)
Publication date: June 24th 2017
Genres: Adult, Horror, Thriller
***Contains Graphic Violence/Adult Content***
A new paranormal suspense thriller from the WINNER of The Independent Author Network 2016 OUTSTANDING BOOK of the YEAR. Can a detective save a Prophet from a monster? Harry is an Army veteran who survived a childhood tragedy and tough years in foster care. Today, he’s a pragmatic and no-nonsense Homicide detective investigating the Victor Adamson kidnapping. As he digs for leads, Harry realizes he’s in the middle of a dark conspiracy, and his life is in jeopardy. His only option is to save Victor. But to do that, he must embrace the supernatural. He has to believe monsters are real. If he doesn’t, then both he and Victor may die.
The shadow woman floated upward. Her elegant ascent was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen. Outside the wind screamed like a lost soul in perpetual torment. There was an inhuman quality in the sound, which convinced Harry he’d lost any chance of reasoning with Evie.
Edgar dipped inside a pocket and pulled out a stone. It was black, larger than a half-dollar, and etched with gold symbols. Edgar grinned without a glimmer of humor as he held up the stone like a talisman.
“I hope you rot in hell!” Edgar said as he faced down the specter.
She didn’t recoil.
As she floated closer, Edgar’s bravado wavered. Outside the wind’s fierceness kicked up and the soulful moan sounded more pained.
Author Julian M. Coleman
I’m a Paranormal/Supernatural Award Winning author who grew up in Richmond, Virginia. As a child I suffered from night terrors. I’m sure you’ve heard of sleep paralysis which leaves you with the inability to move or speak. There are those of us who not only suffer the paralysis, but we see and hear horrible creatures. Most of the time, I had the good sense to keep my eyes closed. Yes, most of the time. Tell me, who wants to have nightmares about demons?
As I grew older, I realized some demons may not be hideous. To this day, I believe true evil is seductive, even beautiful. Unfortunately there are bad things you can’t outgrow. You learn to cope. I did that by writing about demons who will sip your soul while giving you a kiss.
As an adult I also discovered that love transcends nightmares. I’m a dog lover and on several fortunate occasions my dogs entered my dream realm and saved me. The author in me couldn’t resist, so in addition to writing about seductive demons, I’ve penned a tale about a mischievous pooch. If you want a chuckle then read about my canine diva. But…you may want to take a darker path with me. You may want to meet my demons. If that’s the case, then I want you to be scared with me. Is that wrong? I don’t just want to scare you, though. I want you to care about my characters. Because if you care about them, then you will be afraid for them too. Who knows, you could have nightmares about beautiful demons, too.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
My Teaser for this week is from
Warning Light
by David Riccardi
Genre: Thriller
My teaser from page 62 in the hardcover.
Among all of the unknowns, there were two things that were perfectly clear. Zac’s country needed him to survive; and if he wanted his freedom, he was going to have to take it.
~~~~~
Read on if you want to know more.
Synopsis
When a commercial aircraft makes an emergency landing at an Iranian military base, it looks like a crisis has been narrowly avoided. But for undercover intelligence analyst Zac Miller, the CIA-staged crash landing is the only part of his assignment that goes right.
What was supposed to be a simple surveillance mission quickly heads south when the Iranians apprehend the smooth-talking American. Never trained to be a field operative, Zac’s in over his head, especially when it turns out escaping from captivity is only the beginning of his problems. On the run across Europe from both Iranian agents and Western authorities who are convinced he’s defected, Zac finds himself fighting for his life, with no guarantee he’ll even have one to go back to…
WHITE WITCH by Larry D. Thompson Publisher: Story Merchant Books Pages: 291 Genre: Thriller
My Review
When I read the synopsis I was a bit worried that there was so much going on things would be confusing. Not the case at all. The author starts you off by taking you back to Jamaica in 1817. You get a brief history of the White Witch, a nasty woman, and the Maroons, the poor slaves that were at her mercy. Then he drops you in modern day Jamaica and the White Witch may still be up to some of her tricks and the Maroons are still fighting for freedom and what is rightfully theirs.
An American company comes in to strip mine on land supposedly owned by the Maroons. One side attacks, the other returns the favor. The bodies keep piling up. A few brave people band together to settle the conflict once and for all. But will they survive to get their day in court?
I loved the mix of mysticism and modern culture clashing. I was kept guessing whether the Obeah priestess had a hand in certain events. There were some weird things happening at her old plantation. It lent a heavy atmosphere to the story. And it had many of the characters wondering too. Not all of the attacks could be explained away and with people switching sides and having their own agendas and beliefs, nothing was certain.
I’ve acquired a taste for the author’s writing and plan on reading more. White Witch is a fast read. The story flows smoothly. And the mystery and suspense gradually build, leading to a thrilling conclusion.
~~~~~
BOOK BLURB:
Jamaica is a place where the surreal is simply everyday reality. When a ruthless American aluminum company plans to strip mine the Jamaican rainforest, they send former Navy SEAL Will Taylor to Montego Bay to deal with local resistance on their behalf. But he’s unaware that the British had signed a treaty deeding the rainforest to the Jamaican Maroons, descendants of escaped slaves, over 300 years ago. The Maroons fought and died for their land then, and are more than willing to do so now, whether it’s the British or the Americans who threaten them this time around.
Upon Will’s arrival, a series of inexplicable murders begin, some carried out with deadly snake daggers that were owned and used by Annie Palmer, a voodoo priestess better known as the White Witch. She was killed 200 years prior, but is said to still haunt the island at night, and the local Jamaicans are certain she’s responsible for the gruesome murders, her form of retaliation against the new turmoil taking place in the rainforest.
And Will has been forced directly into the middle of it. After a few close calls, he’s finally convinced to leave his company and join forces with the Maroons, headed by Vertise Broderick, a Maroon who resigned from her position at the New York Times to return to Jamaica to stop the mining. Together they hire a Jamaican attorney to prove that the Maroon/British treaty is still valid to stop the mining, and they take it upon themselves to solve the White Witch murders, because the legend of the White Witch can’t possibly be true…
Will returned to his room, too wound up to sleep. He stripped to his underwear and flipped channels on a large screen HD television until he ran across First Blood with Sylvester Stallone. Having lived that life for a few years, he never passed up the opportunity to watch it again. He settled back and had drifted off to sleep when his cell chimed. He glanced at the television to make sure it was not coming from there and found Fred Astaire waltzing Ginger Rogers around a ballroom. He turned off the television and reached for his phone.
“Taylor.”
“Will, Alexa here.” It was nearly three in the morning and Alexa was still at her desk. Smoke drifted from a cigarette in her ashtray while she sucked on a Tootsie Pop. She was on the speaker phone. When Will answered, she walked to her window and stared at the lights of Baltimore.
Will turned on the nightstand light, glanced at the clock, and swung his feet into a sitting position on the side of the bed. “Yes, ma’am. Little late for a booty call.”
“Cut the crap. Kaven was just found at Rose Hall. He’s dead.”
“What? Are you sure? I just saw him a few hours ago.” Will got to his feet and began pacing the room. “Shit.”
“Must be those goddamn Maroons. He called me last night once he got back from Accompong. He told me about what happened up there. By the way, they let the pilot go. They said they had no beef with him.”
“So I heard. What was Kaven doing at Rose Hall? When I saw him, he was going to his room.”
“How the hell should I know? I got a call from some local detective. They found his employee identification in his wallet. When the detective called here, the operator knew I was still in my office and put the call through to me. You need to get to Rose Hall now.
“Yes, ma’am,” Will agreed.
“And I’m flying down there tomorrow before this gets any more out of hand. See if you can keep anybody else from being killed until I get there.”
Will’s cell went dead. He put it on the nightstand and picked up the hotel phone. Pleased to find it working, he punched the key for valet parking.
“Good evening, Mr. Taylor. How can I be of assistance?”
“Bring my company Land Rover to the front as quickly as possible.”
Getting assurance that it would be there when he got downstairs, Will hung up and walked to the bathroom. Five minutes later he was met at the hotel entrance by a valet.
“Can I give you directions, Mr. Taylor? It’s a little late at night.”
“No thanks. I know exactly where I’m going.” Will got in the car, fastened his seat belt, and left the hotel.
When Will got to Rose Hall, he turned onto the road they had just come down the evening before. At the top of the hill he could see the mansion, now well lighted. He dodged tree limbs and utility wires and parked among several other vehicles. Police cars were positioned so that their headlights focused on the steps of the mansion where Will could see the yellow police crime scene tape. He walked up a path from the parking lot between the police cars that faced the mansion to the yellow tape where an officer stood watch. The officer came to attention as Will approached.
“Sorry, mon. I can’t let you past here. We’re investigating a murder.”
Will kept his voice even but controlling. “I know, officer. That’s why I’m here. Name’s William Taylor. I’m head of security for Global American Metals. Here’s my identification.” Will tried to hand him an ID. The officer just shook his head. “Officer, the dead man is one of Global’s employees. Can you get someone in authority to let me up there?”
Before the officer could reply, Miles Harper, the St. James Parish Chief of Detectives, approached. Harper was a lean, fit man with a shaved head and a no nonsense manner. He was dressed in a brown suit, yellow shirt, and matching tie. He looked like he just stepped out of GQ Magazine, even at three in the morning.
“Mr. Taylor, I’m Miles Harper, Chief of Detectives in this parish. I was told by your company to expect you.”
Will extended his right hand. Harper ignored it. Instead, he nodded at the officer and motioned for Will to follow him. Harper went up a dozen steps and turned to Will as he stood beside Kaven’s body, sprawled on his back with dagger in his chest. Will bent over for a closer look and found that the handle of the dagger was in the shape of a snake. At the top of the handle was the snake’s head. The snake’s eyes were two bright rubies.
“Shit,” Will muttered, “He was almost killed because of one snake on the road today and now someone finished the job with a, what would you call this, a snake dagger?”
“That’s as good a name as any, Mr. Taylor. My officers reported what went on up in Accompong and the incident with the boa.”
Will continued to study the body. “Looks like he’s been dead a couple of hours. I last saw him about ten last night. Who found him?”
“The hotel has a security guard that roams the mansion grounds and up to the club house in a golf cart. He spotted the body.”
“Where’s your coroner?”
“He’s a local Justice of the Peace, not a medical doctor. He won’t set foot on these steps until morning. My men here won’t go past the tape either. They believe the White Witch did it.”
Will shook his head in disbelief. “Come on, Chief, this is the twenty-first century.”
“Old beliefs die hard, Mr. Taylor. Come on. Let me show you something.”
Harper stepped around the body and climbed the steps with Will behind him. Entering the ballroom, Will said, “I was just in this room yesterday evening during the storm.”
Harper turned to study Will. “Would you care to explain?”
Will covered the details of the previous day and their time in the mansion while they waited out the storm. “You know a woman named Vertise?”
Harper nodded his head. “She’s a local. Works for the paper and tends bar for the hotel. Since you were in this room a few hours ago, come over here.”
Harper led Will to a glass display against one wall with pictures of two snake daggers above it along with the history of the daggers. The glass had been broken and the daggers were gone.
“You see this case when you were up here?”
Will studied it and thought back to the day before. “Can’t say I did, Chief.
It was pretty dark in here, lit only by candles since the storm knocked out power. I wandered around the room but never glanced toward this case. And I don’t believe anyone else mentioned it. Now that I think about it, Vertise told us the legend of Annie Palmer and her using a snake dagger to kill an overseer. evening during the storm.”
Harper turned to study Will. “Would you care to explain?” Will covered the details of the previous day and their time in the mansion while they waited out the storm. “You know a woman named Vertise?” Harper nodded his head. “She’s a local. Works for the paper and tends bar for the hotel. Since you were in this room a few hours ago, come over here.” Harper led Will to a glass display against one wall with pictures of two snake daggers above it along with the history of the daggers. The glass had been broken and the daggers were gone.
“You see this case when you were up here?”
Will studied it and thought back to the day before. “Can’t say I did, Chief.
It was pretty dark in here, lit only by candles since the storm knocked out power. I wandered around the room but never glanced toward this case. And I don’t believe anyone else mentioned it. Now that I think about it, Vertise told us the legend of Annie Palmer and her using a snake dagger to kill an overseer. Surprising that she didn’t show us these daggers when she was telling the story.”
“Interesting,” mused Harper. “You have any idea why your man would come up here in the middle of the night?”
“Not a clue. Have you checked his cell phone? He always carried it.”
“Yeah. The last calls were with you yesterday afternoon and one with Ms. Pritchard later in the evening.”
Will nodded. “He called me from Accompong, warning me of trouble up there. I should have gone with him.”
Harper shook his head. “Whether you were there or not wouldn’t have made any difference. Just would have been one more person that was in my police car that rolled, assuming, of course, you didn’t take a bullet up on the mountain.”
“Understood.”
“How did you get in the mansion?”
“Vertise said she knew where a key was hidden and let us in.”
“Strange that she could get into the locked mansion. It was my understanding that only the manager of Rose Hall had a key. He locked it and left when the storm was hitting. The hotel spent a fortune on period pieces to recreate how it looked two hundred years ago. One of his jobs is to make sure they are not stolen.”
“Any signs of a break-in?” Will asked.
“This is not for publication, you understand, but when I got here the mansion was locked and the lights were off.”
“So, you’re saying that someone got into the mansion, stole two daggers, let themselves back out, killed Kaven, and left no trace.” Will paused to absorb all that he had just said. “Wait a minute. If someone wanted to kill Kaven, why not just use a gun? Why go to all the trouble of getting that dagger to do it?”
“I’ve been wrestling with that very question,” Harper said. “It’s illegal for a private citizen to own a gun in Jamaica, but that doesn’t mean they are not available if you know the right people. My working hypothesis is that the killer or killers wanted the public to think voodoo was involved, or maybe even the White Witch. The only other possibility that comes to mind is that the Maroons are trying to send a message to Global. They tried to kill Tillman in Accompong and failed. Maybe the message is that they finish what they start. Either way, someone is trying to make trouble for your company. I have another problem that may not be apparent.”
Will looked quizzically at the detective.
“As you can see, there were two snake daggers in this case. One’s accounted for out on the steps. The other is gone. Nearly everyone around here thinks that they are voodoo daggers with magical powers. They were found in an overseer’s grave during the restoration of the mansion thirty years ago.”
“Does ‘everyone’ include you? Looks to me like the killer or killers are just trying to mess with the minds of my co-workers, maybe keep some locals from hiring on with us.”
Harper stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not up to me to decide if they’re magic or not. I’ve got a murder with one of those daggers. My job is to solve the murder and along the way, find that other dagger before someone uses it.” Will’s eyes searched the room in a futile effort to see any clues to the crime.
Then he focused on the chief. “Look, I’m going to need a gun. My company is obviously under attack. I’m licensed to carry back home.”
“No way, Mr. Taylor,” Harper exploded. “Foreigners are not permitted to have guns in Jamaica. For that matter, as I just told you, neither are Jamaicans. And I want you to stay the hell out of my investigation. We don’t need your help. Understand?”
“Yeah, I understand. You know that each of our mines on this island is permitted a certain number of guns for our guards. I’ll just get one of those.”
“The hell you will. Don’t you dare go behind my back. Those guns never leave mine property. I have an officer that inventories them. If one turns up missing, I’ll confiscate every damn weapon that Global has and put you under house arrest. Clear, Mr. Taylor?”
Will clinched his fists and tried to hold back the anger that was apparent in his face. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the mansion, pausing only to gaze at Kaven and say a prayer for him and his family. At the bottom of the steps, he got in his car and glanced toward the mansion. The lights from his car somehow caught the ruby eyes of the snake, making them appear briefly to be alive. Will shook his head, put the car in reverse, and returned to the hotel.
~~~~~
Author Larry D. Thompson
After graduating from the University of Texas School of Law, Larry spent the first half of his professional life as a trial lawyer. He tried well over 300 cases and won more than 95% of them. Although he had not taken a writing class since freshman English (back when they wrote on stone tablets), he figured that he had read enough novels and knew enough about trials, lawyers, judges, and courtrooms that he could do it. Besides, his late, older brother, Thomas Thompson, was one of the best true crime writers to ever set a pen to paper; so, just maybe, there was something in the Thompson gene pool that would guide him into this new career. He started writing his first novel about a dozen years ago and published it a couple of years thereafter. He has now written five highly acclaimed legal thrillers. White Witch is number six with many more to come.
Larry is married to his wife, Vicki. He has three children scattered from Colorado to Austin to Boca Raton, and four grandchildren. He has been trying to retire from the law practice to devote full time to writing. Hopefully, that will occur by the end of 2018. He still lives in Houston, but spends his summers in Vail CO, high on a mountain where he is inspired by the beauty of the Rocky Mountains.
His latest book is the captivating thriller, WHITE WITCH.
The brutal murder of a business tycoon leaves Afton Tangler and the Twin Cities reeling, but that’s just the beginning of a gruesome crime spree…
Leland Odin made his fortune launching a home shopping network, but his millions can’t save his life. On the list for a transplant, the ailing businessman sees all hope lost when the helicopter carrying his donor heart is shot out of the sky.
Now with two pilots dead and dozens injured, Afton Tangler, family liaison officer for the Minneapolis Police Department, is drawn into the case. As she and her partner investigate family members and business associates, whoever wants Leland dead strikes again—and succeeds—in a brazen hospital room attack.
The supposedly squeaky clean millionaire has crossed the wrong person—and she’s not finished exacting her revenge. The case explodes into an international conspiracy of unbridled greed and violence. And as Afton gets closer to unearthing the mastermind behind it, she gets closer to becoming collateral damage…
~~~~~
About Author Gerry Schmitt
Gerry Schmitt is the author of the Afton Tangler Thrillers, and, writing under the pseudonym Laura Childs, the New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty-five novels, the Tea Shop, Scrapbooking, and Cackleberry Club Mysteries. She is the former CEO of her own marketing firm, has won TV and radio awards, and produced two reality TV shows. She and her professor husband enjoy collecting art, travel, and their two Shar-Pei dogs.
I enjoyed the characters a lot. Max and Afton seem to play off of each other well as far as figuring things out. ~Valerie’s Musings
This is one of those books where the bad men are really bad, and everyone in the case is hiding something to have a money profit… ~Varietats
Afton was a likable character for me. She seemed in tune with some of the other characters. She is good at her job. ~A. Holland Reads
Shadow Girl by Gerry Schmitt is one of the most gripping and chilling books I’ve read this year. ~Back Porchervations
The mystery and suspense aspect of this book was great. This was a definite page-turner. ~Bookworm Cafe
Can I just say Wow! It’s been awhile since I sat and read a book that terrified me with precision action that intrigued me so much it was impossible to put the book down. ~Texas Book-aholic
It starts off with a bang (literally) and the suspense never lets up. I love stories that grip you right from the start and this thriller fits the bill. ~Brooke Blogs
This is a serious thriller with a lot going on. There’s surface to air missiles, conspiracies to kill no matter who gets hurt and what has to be done, and characters with some seriously shady backstories. ~I Wish I Lived In a Library
From page 1 I was engaged in a thrilling and suspenseful ride! ~My Reading Journeys
As the chapters unfold we get a good look at things from both the good guys’ and the bad guys’ perspectives. This gives you a first-hand understanding of the killer’s motives, but in no way takes away from the suspense or the desire to see Afton and Max bring her to justice. ~The Book’s the Thing
A page turner like you never read before, Shadow Girl is a deeply rooted thriller in the art of murder, mystery, and revenge. ~Bibliophile Reviews
Hatchet Hollow Amanda McKinney
(Black Rose Mystery Series, #2)
Publication date: April 24th 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
After an afternoon of mind-numbingly boring surveillance in the woods, Private Investigator Raven Cane goes for a twilight jog to clear her head, only to discover a gruesome murder in the town’s most notorious cave, Hatchet Hollow. Minutes later, the impossibly handsome Lieutenant Zander Stone arrives at the scene to take over, but Raven has a hard time letting the case go. Why did the killer cut off the victim’s fingers? More importantly, who would do such a thing?
After a failed attempt at tracking down the elusive Marden Balik, aka, the legendary witch of the Great Shadow Mountains, Zander dives headfirst into Devil’s Den’s most recent murder, only to uncover twists and turns at every step—including a secret book of curses that may, or may not, exist. As the list of suspects grows, Zander does his best to keep Raven at arm’s length. But Raven is persistent, nosing her way into his case, making it increasingly difficult to keep his concentration on the task at hand, and off of her sultry body.
And when another woman is found brutally murdered, Zander worries that Raven has gotten too close to the investigation… close enough to put her directly in the killer’s sights.
A BLACK CROW swooped down from a decaying pine tree beside her, it’s cringing caw piercing the silence of the woods. She shuddered and zipped up her windbreaker.
Abby never liked crows, or birds for that matter. Not since her parents brought her back a rare, extremely expensive—their words, not hers—parrot from Honduras when she was twelve years old. It was one of the many vacations they’d taken without her—needing a break, they’d say—and leaving her with her nanny, Fran, whose hair always looked, ironically, like a bird’s nest, and whose breath could stop a clock. The same nanny who’d tattled on her for leaving a window open, allowing the precious parrot to fly away.
Her father didn’t speak to her for a week, and her mother, only when he wasn’t looking.
But that was a long time ago. That was then, and this was now. She was a woman now, freshly turned twenty-one with her whole life ahead of her. She didn’t need her parents or the shallow gifts they’d showered her with, replacing their inability to show affection. She didn’t need them anymore, just like they didn’t need her. That’s how they always made her feel, anyway.
A cool gust of wind carrying the sour scent of moldy earth swept past her. She glanced up at the cloud-covered sky. Another dreary day. Another stupid, dull day in this small, suffocating, godforsaken town—just like the day before.
But not anymore.
She could make her own decisions now, out from under their financial thumb. Go her own way in life.
And she was.
And her parents would kill her for it.
She stepped onto the jogging trail that snaked through the woods and stumbled on a rock. She looked down at her new black running shoes laced tightly over black ankle socks. Black leggings and a black T-shirt.
Black.
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
She’d always been fascinated with the mystical, creepy folktales that were whispered through the Great Shadow Mountains. Spirits, ghosts… witches. Hundreds of stories told during dark nights with no electricity, bonfires with too many drinks, Halloween, or just about any scenario shrouded in darkness. The stories were told with glances over the shoulder and hushed voices laced with fear, and if you listened carefully enough, respect. Respect for the evil forces that could snatch you up in the middle of the night, turn you into a lizard, or worse, curse you and everyone you loved.
Witches who could raise the dead from the earth.
Witches who could take your life.
Respect, power. Those were the two things she was promised when she’d been approached about “turning over a new leaf”. Taking control of her own life—and others if needed. Yes, she would be a part of something now, of something big, she was told.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes.
Was she apprehensive? Absolutely. But what they’d promised her had been too great to ignore. She’d been a fool to walk away.
Right?
She smoothed her black windbreaker.
Black really wasn’t her color, but they had been wearing it—head-to-toe—so she figured she’d better get used to it. There would be so much to learn, they’d explained, and embracing black was a good start, she guessed.
But dammit, it really washed her out. Her pale complexion and light blonde hair—a gift from her mother—looked even more lifeless against the unforgiving color.
Maybe she would take baby steps into the change.
Yes, baby steps.
Maybe it would be okay if she wore her red silk blouse and white Louboutin six-inch heels on her date next week.
Butterflies tickled her stomach.
A date!
She couldn’t believe it. Yes, she had been asked out by a good-looking, accomplished man, nonetheless. It was completely out of left field… and only hours after she’d officially committed to “turning over a new leaf.” Coincidence?
Yes, things were going to change for her. Things were going to go her way, for the first freaking time in her life.
She was going to be powerful, respected. Feared.
With an extra pep in her step, she rounded a corner in the trail and spotted her new jogging partner anxiously waiting ahead.
“Hey.”
“Hey, there. You ready?”
She snorted. “As ready as I can be, I guess.”
“First mile’s always the hardest. I’ll take it easy on you. Might want to stick those keys in your pocket, though. Uneven terrain.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah.” She nodded, looked down, and as she unzipped her pocket—
WHACK!
Her head snapped back as a fist slammed into her jaw.
Pain rocketed through her skull. Bright lights flashed in her eyes. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth as she stumbled backward. The world spun around her, sending a wave of nausea through her body as she tried to process what was happening.
What the hell?
She opened her eyes to fuzziness and tried to focus on the movement in front of her. But before she could come to, the next brutal force knocked her out cold.
Author Amanda McKinney
Award-winning author of sexy murder mysteries, Amanda McKinney wrote her debut novel, LETHAL LEGACY, after walking away from her career to become a writer and stay-at-home mom. Her books include the BERRY SPRINGS SERIES and the BLACK ROSE MYSTERY SERIES, with many more to come. Set in small, Southern towns, Amanda’s books are page-turning whodunits peppered with steamy romance. Amanda is a member of Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers and Sisters in Crime, and lives in Arkansas with her handsome husband, two beautiful boys, and three obnoxious dogs. Visit her website atwww.amandamckinneyauthor.com
Welcome to my Saturday Screams where I share books and movies that, well, make you scream! Here’s a movie I watched this week. Might not be horror but it had some eerie scenes.
The Titan
I liked Sam Worthington in Avatar so I gave this a go. Earth is dying and humanity faces extinction. In a desperate attempt to survive, a project begins to make a superhuman race that can survive on Titan, the only planet that we might be able to colonize.
This movie was eerie. I didn’t expect to get so wrapped up in it. Once the soldiers started to change, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. I got quite mad at some parts, and cried at one toughing scene. My son came out to get something from the fridge and ended up standing in the living room to watch the last half.
The Titan might not be a blockbuster, but I’m glad I watched it. The one niggle I had, there were a few times when the action scenes jumped forward. You didn’t see how the situations were resolved, just the aftermath, and were filled in by the dialogue.
Okay, one more niggle. In the end it almost seemed pointless. If we alter human DNA too much so we can survive on Titan, are we still technically human?
Many people might find this movie sucks. Some plot holes and areas that don’t make sense. It’s science fiction don’t ya know. Just let it all go, try not to over think it, and you might enjoy this.
Had to give it three stars. It made me cry. I’m such a light weight about sad scenes. LOL
Have you seen this? What did you think?
~~~~~
And I hope to go see this one over the weekend. I’ve heard all kinds of good things about it.
Jimmie Putnam is an ordinary man by any measure. By day, he works as a law
clerk. At night, when he can’t fight the cravings, he becomes a
collector. He takes great care of his human Things; buying them
cherry lipstick and reading to them from his journal. When they’ve
been on their best behavior, he even takes them out of his freezers…
Sometimes, the need is just too deep.
Florel Ross has been mostly invisible since the death of her twin, who died
twenty years ago at the hands of a serial killer. Obsessed with
justice, Florel is willing to risk anything for the answers she
craves: What goes on in the mind of a serial killer?
When the two yearnings collide, will it be justice or just Things?
Six months is a long time in the life of a serial killer with active
cravings. Jimmie Putnam has made a lot of changes. Now, with his own
ice cream shop, hiding bodies is easier than ever before. With
sixteen kills under his belt, Jimmie is cocky. And the cravings are
only getting worse:
Have you ever just been in the mood for ice cream?
You can’t really say why that craving comes on.
But you can’t sleep, even at 2 a.m. until you get it.
So you put your sneakers on . . .
Killing’s like that, for me.
Today, I’m in the mood for black raspberry.
Come, take a tour, of Jimmie’s Ice Cream shop…
Twenty years is a long time to wait for justice. And when you’re so close
that you can taste it, you want to serve yourself. Special Agent
Florel Ross has made a vow. She has one year, or until Jimmie Putnam
is about to kill again before she will confront him—or report
him—herself. Now, with his own ice cream shop, watching him will be
easier than ever before. With nothing to lose and obsession steering
her, Florel is fearless. She takes the sort of risks her twin sister
would be proud of. And the danger is only getting worse.
Have you ever been in the mood for revenge?
You can’t really say why that hunger comes on.
But you can’t sleep, even at 2 a.m. until you get it.
Every town has its legends. I would know, I am one of them. I am the girl
they tell campfire stories about. The “well-liked librarian” who
was going places until she was kidnapped and eaten by the Ice Cream
Man. I am the warning parents tell their children about, the woman
whose remains were never found…
There’s so much more to my story than how I died.
My name is Beverly Watkins. I was twenty-seven years old the day I
perished at the hands of a serial killer. For more than a year,
Master Jimmie kept me in his favorite freezer and took me out for
weekly playdates. I was the cherry on top of his twisted ice cream
sundae; the Thing he called Fifteen.
It’s only the beginning to my story. You see, justice is haunting. And
tonight, I’m in the mood for it. I’m here to set the record
straight, to make sure all the facts are tied up in perfect yellow
bows like the ones they tied around trees for me. I won’t rest
until I’ve told my own story, my way. Which reminds me: I have a
visit to make.
Erin Lee is a dark fiction/reality author and therapist chasing a crazy dream
one crazy story at a time. She is the author of books published by
Savant Books and Publications, Limitless Publishing, Black Rose
Writing, Zombie Cupcake Press, Bella Tulip Press, and Crazy Ink.
Her Diary of a Serial Killer Series is an international bestselling
series as is the Moving On Series that she co-wrote with Chelsi
Davis. Upcoming titles include Wendigo and Momma. She is a co-founder
of the Escape from Reality Series and author of several books in that
series.
Lee holds a master’s degree in psychology and works with at-risk
families and as a court appointed special advocate. When she isn’t
busy dissecting the human experience, she enjoys escaping from
reality through reading and spending time with her muses and canine
companions and therapy dogs—Thomas the Terrier and Milo Muse. To
her, laughter is the best medicine of all.
SHEENA KAMAL holds an HBA in Political Science from the University of Toronto, and was awarded a TD Canada Trust scholarship for community leadership and activism around the issue of homelessness. Her debut novel, The Lost Ones, was inspired by this and by Kamal’s most recent work as a researcher into crime and investigative journalism for the film and television industry.
