M.M. Hudson's Blog, page 34
October 12, 2021
#Spotlight: Seeker's Core by K.M. Jenkins #giveaway #YA #Fantasy #bookseries
The Seeker's Core
Half Blood Academy Book 1
A Children of Chaos Novel
In a universe governed by gods, darkness awakens and demigods are called.
Two journeys.
Two planets.
Lennox walks a path that separates her from her family. But allies along the way bring her to her destined fate.
Becca seeks to advance knowledge in the medical field. Fate has other plans in store when she stumbles upon long forgotten ruins.
Two demigods walk different paths on separate planets. Will they find each other before it’s too late or will fate change their lives forever? The journey of a universe forever changed begins right here.
K.M. Jenkins is a published best selling speculative fiction author who writes epic battles, forbidden romance, and tales of fantasy and adventure. She has a big love for the fantasy genre and loves dragons above all creatures. When she is not writing, you will find her running her business as a cover artist at KJ Magical Designs, LLC and chasing her twin boys around the house. Between the three she has epic battles throughout the day and nothing ever gets boring.
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
$10 Amazon
October 11, 2021
Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning #giveaway #mysteries
Mercy CreekGenre: MysteryPublished by: Crooked Lane BooksPublication Date: October 12th 2021Number of Pages: 288ISBN: 1643857622 (ISBN13: 9781643857626)Series: A Jo Wyatt Mystery, Book 2 || Each mystery in the A Jo Wyatt Mystery series is a stand alone novel.Purchase Links: | Amazon | Barnes & Noble |
Synopsis:In an idyllic Colorado town, a young girl goes missing—and the trail leads into the heart and mind of a remorseless killer.
The late summer heat in Echo Valley, Colorado turns lush greenery into a tinder dry landscape. When a young girl mysteriously disappears, long buried grudges rekindle. Of the two Flores girls, Marisa was the one people pegged for trouble. Her younger sister, Lena, was the quiet daughter, dutiful and diligent—right until the moment she vanished.
Detective Jo Wyatt is convinced the eleven-year-old girl didn’t run away and that a more sinister reason lurks behind her disappearance. For Jo, the case is personal, reaching far back into her past. But as she mines Lena’s fractured family life, she unearths a cache of secrets and half-lies that paints a darker picture.
As the evidence mounts, so do the suspects, and when a witness steps forward with a shocking new revelation, Jo is forced to confront her doubts, and her worst fears. Now, it’s just a matter of time before the truth is revealed—or the killer makes another deadly move.
Read an excerpt:Chapter One
Everyone had a story from that night. Some saw a man, others saw a girl, still others saw nothing at all but didn’t want to squander the opportunity to be part of something larger than themselves. To varying degrees, they were all wrong. Only two people knew the full truth.
That Saturday, visitors to the county fair clustered in the dappled shade cast by carnival rides and rested on hay bales scattered like afterthoughts between games of chance and food booths, the soles of their shoes sticky with ice cream drips and spilled sodas.
Detective Jo Wyatt stepped into the shadow of the Hall of Mirrors to watch the crowd. She grabbed the collar of her uniform and pumped it a few times in a futile attempt to push cooler air between her ballistic vest and sweat-sodden T-shirt.
The Echo Valley Fair marked the end of summer, but even now, as the relentless Colorado sun dipped, heat rose in waves around bare ankles and stroller wheels as families retreated toward the parking lots. An older crowd began to creep in, prowling the midway. The beer garden overflowed.
Within minutes the sun dropped behind the valley walls and the fairground lights flickered to life, their wan orange glow a beacon to moths confused by the strobing brightness of rides and games. Calliope music and the midway’s technopop collided in a crazed mishmash of notes so loud they echoed in Jo’s chest. She raised the volume of her radio.
The day shift officers had clocked out having handled nothing more pressing than a man locked out of his car and an allegation of unfair judging flung by the second-place winner of the bake-off.
Jo gauged the teeming crowd of unfamiliar faces. Tonight would be different.
#
Carnival music was creepy, Lena decided. Each ride had its own weird tune and it all seemed to crash against her with equal force, following her no matter where she went.
The guys in the booths were louder than they had been earlier, more aggressive, calling out, trying to get her to part with her tickets. Some of the guys roamed, jumping out at people, flicking cards and making jokes she didn’t understand while smiling at her older sister.
Marisa tossed her hair. Smiled back. Sometimes they let her play for free.
“Let’s go back to the livestock pavilion,” Lena said.
“Quit being such a baby.” Marisa glanced over her shoulder at the guy running the shooting gallery booth and tossed her hair. Again.
Lena rolled her eyes and wondered how long it would be before her sister ditched her.
“Hold up a sec.” Marisa tugged at the hem of her skintight skirt and flopped down on a hay bale.
She’d been wearing pants when they’d left the house. The big purse she always carried probably hid an entire wardrobe Momma knew nothing about. Lena wondered if the missing key to grandma’s car was tucked in there too.
Marisa unzipped one of her boots and pulled up her thin sock.
Lena pointed. “What happened to the bottom of your boot?”
Her sister ran her finger along the arch. “I painted it red.”
“Why?”
“It makes them more valuable.”
“Since when does coloring the bottom of your shoes make them more valuable?”
Marisa’s eyes lit up in a way that happened whenever she spoke about clothes or how she was going to hit it big in Hollywood someday. “In Paris there’s this guy who designs shoes and all of them have red soles. He’s the only one allowed to do that. It’s his thing.”
“But he didn’t make those boots.”
“All the famous women wear his shoes.” She waved to someone in the crowd.
“You’re not famous and you bought them at Payless.”
“What do you know about fashion?”
“I know enough not to paint the bottom of my boots to make them look like someone else made them.”
Marisa shoved her foot into her boot and yanked the zipper closed. “You bought your boots from the co-op.” She handed Lena her cell phone.
“You should have bought yours there, too.” Lena dutifully pointed the lens at her sister.
“Take a couple this time.” Marisa leaned back on her hands and arched her back, her hair nearly brushing the hay bale, and the expression on her face pouty like the girls in the magazines she was always looking at.
Lena snapped several photos and held out the phone. “All those high heels are good for is punching holes in the ground.”
“Oh, Lena.” Marisa’s voice dropped as if she was sharing a secret. “If you ever looked up from your animals long enough, you’d see there’s so much more to the world.” Her thumbs rapidly tapped the tiny keyboard of her phone.
In the center of the midway, a carnival guy held a long-handled mallet and called out to people as they passed by. He was older—somewhere in his twenties—and wore a tank top. Green and blue tattoos covered his arms and his biceps bulged as he pointed the oversized hammer at the tower behind him. It looked like a giant thermometer with numbers running along one edge, and High Striker spelled out on the other.
“Come on, men. There’s no easier way to impress the ladies.” He grabbed the mallet and tapped the plate. “You just have to find the proper motivation if you want to get it up…” He pointed with his chin to the top of the game and paused dramatically. “There.” He craned his neck and leered at Marisa. Lena wondered if he was looking up her sister’s skirt. “What happens later is up to you.”
Never breaking eye contact, he took a mighty swing. The puck raced up the tower, setting off a rainbow of lights and whistles before it smashed into the bell at the top. He winked in their direction. “Score.”
Twenty minutes later, Marisa was gone.
#
Lena gave up looking for her sister and returned to the livestock pavilion. Marisa could keep her music and crowds and stupid friends.
Only a few people still wandered around the dimly lit livestock pavilion. The fireworks would start soon and most people headed for the excitement outside, a world away from the comforting sound of animals snuffling and pawing at their bedding.
Marisa was probably hanging out near the river with her friends, drinking beer. Maybe smoking a cigarette or even a joint. Doing things she didn’t think her baby sister knew about.
Lena walked through an aisle stacked with poultry and rabbit cages. The pens holding goats, swine, and sheep took up the middle. At the back of the pavilion stretched a long row of three-sided cattle stalls. The smells of straw, grain, and animals replaced the gross smell of deep-fried candy bars and churros that had clogged her throat on the midway.
Near the end of the row, Lena stopped.
“Hey there, Bluebell.” Technically, he was number twenty-four, like his ear tag said. Her father didn’t believe in naming livestock, but to her, he’d always be Bluebell—even after she sold him at the auction to be slaughtered. Just because that was his fate didn’t mean he shouldn’t have a name to be remembered by. She remembered them all.
She patted his hip and slid her hand along his spine so he wouldn’t shy as she moved into the stall. She double-checked the halter, pausing to scratch his forehead. A piece of straw swirled in his water bucket and she fished it out. The cold water cooled her hot skin.
“You did good today. Sorry I won’t be spending the night with you, but Papa got called out to Dawson’s ranch to stitch up some mare.”
He swished his tail and it struck the rail with a metallic ring.
“Don’t get yourself all riled. I’ll be back tomorrow before you know it.”
If she hadn’t been showing Bluebell this afternoon, she’d have gone with her father. Her sutures had really improved this summer and were almost as neat as his. No one would guess they’d been made by an eleven-year-old. If nothing else, she could have helped keep the horse calm.
Instead, she’d go home with Marisa and spend the night at Momma’s. She wondered if Marisa would show up before the 4-H leader called lights out in the pavilion or if Lena would have to walk to her mom’s house by herself in the dark.
She reached down and jiggled the feed pan to smooth out the grain that Bluebell had pushed to the edges.
“That’s some cow.”
The male voice startled them both and Bluebell stomped his rear hoof. Lena peered over the Hereford’s withers. At first all she saw were the tattoos. An ugly monster head with a gaping mouth and snake tongue seem to snap at her. It was the carny from the High Striker standing at the edge of the stall.
“It’s a steer,” she stuttered. “And my sister isn’t here.”
“Not your sister I wanted to talk to.” He swayed a bit as he moved into the stall, like when her mother drank too much wine and tried to hide it.
Lena ducked under Bluebell’s throat and came up on the other side. She looked around the pavilion, now empty of people.
“Suspect they’re all out waiting on the fireworks,” he said.
The first boom echoed through the space. Several sheep bleated their disapproval and Bluebell jerked against his halter.
“Shhhh, now.” Lena reached her hand down and scratched his chest. “All that racket’s just some stupid fireworks.”
“Nothing to worry about,” the man added. He had the same look in his eyes that Papa’s border collie got right before he cut off the escape route of a runaway cow.
A bigger boom thundered through the pavilion. Halter clips clanged against the rails as uneasy cattle shuffled in their stalls. Her own legs shook as she sidled toward Bluebell’s rear.
He matched her steps. “What’s a little thing like you doing in here all by yourself?”
“My father will be back any minute.” Her voice shook.
He smiled, baring his teeth. “I’ll be sure to introduce myself when he arrives.”
A series of explosions, sharp as gunfire, erupted outside. Somewhere a cow lowed. Several more joined in, their voices pitiful with fear.
“You’re upsetting my steer. You need to leave.”
“Oh, your cow’s just fine. I think it’s you that’s scared.”
He spoke with the same low voice that Lena used with injured animals. The one she used right before she did something she knew would hurt but had to be done.
“You’re a pretty little thing,” he crooned. “Nice and quiet.”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She stood frozen. A warm trickle started down her leg, and the wet spot expanded on her jeans.
He edged closer. “I like them quiet.”
#
Jo ran.
The suspect veered off the sidewalk and slid down the hillside toward the creek.
She plunged off the side of the embankment, sliding through dirt and duff, closing the distance. She keyed her shoulder mic. “Entering the creek, heading west toward the Animas. I need someone on the River Trail.”
Narrow-leaf cottonwood and willows shimmered silver in the moonlight and wove a thicket of branches along the water, herding the suspect toward the cobbled stream bed.
Jo splashed into the ankle-deep water. Close enough now to almost touch.
Her lungs burned. With a final burst of speed, she lunged. Shoved his shoulder while he was mid-stride.
The man sprawled into the creek. Rolled onto his feet with a bellow. A knife in his hand.
Without thinking, she’d drawn her gun. “Drop it!”
Flashlight beams sliced the foliage. Snapping branches and crashing footsteps marked the other officers’ progress as they neared. Estes shouted Jo’s name. Her eyes never left the man standing just feet away.
“Over here!” She focused on the man’s shoulder, watching for the twitch that would telegraph his intentions. “You need to drop the knife. Now.” Her voice rose above the burble of the stream. “Or things are going to get a whole lot worse for you tonight.”
She shifted her weight to her front leg and carefully shuffled her rear foot until she found firmer footing and settled into a more stable shooting stance. “Drop the knife.” She aimed center mass. Drew a deep breath, willed her heart to slow.
The knife splashed into the creek near the bank.
“On your right.” Estes broke through the brush beside her.
“Get down on your knees,” Jo ordered. “Hands behind your head.”
“It’s my friend’s truck,” the man said.
Jo holstered her gun and moved forward while Estes covered her. She gripped his fingers and bowed the suspect backward, keeping him off balance while she searched him for weapons, then cuffed him.
“Not according to the owner.” She double-locked the cuffs while Estes radioed dispatch they had one in custody.
An explosion above the treetops made Jo flinch. Fireworks slashed the darkness and burst into balls of purple and green and dazzling white that sparkled briefly, then disappeared.
***
Excerpt from Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning. Copyright 2021 by M.E. Browning. Reproduced with permission from M.E. Browning. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
M.E. Browning writes the Colorado Book Award-winning Jo Wyatt Mysteries and the Agatha-nominated and award-winning Mer Cavallo Mysteries (as Micki Browning). Micki also writes short stories and nonfiction. Her work has appeared in dive magazines, anthologies, mystery magazines, and textbooks. An FBI National Academy graduate, Micki worked in municipal law enforcement for more than two decades and retired as a captain before turning to a life of crime… fiction. Catch Up With M.E. Browning:
MEBrowning.com
Goodreads
ENTER TO WIN:This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for M.E. Browning. There will be TWO winners. ONE winner will receive (1) Amazon.com Gift Card and ONE winner will receive one (1) physical copy of Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning (U.S. addresses only). The giveaway runs October 11 through November 7, 2021. Void where prohibited.
Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours
October 10, 2021
National Geographic Kids Books #Fall Prize Pack #Giveaway (Ends 10/31) #FallFavorites @NGKidsBks @HomeJobsByMom
Welcome To The National Geo Kids Books Fall Prize Pack Giveaway! I loved National Geographic as a kid and so excited they have it now for kids!This giveaway is part of our Fall Gift Guide. Stop by to see all the great giveaways and products!
GIVEAWAY DETAILS Prize:It's a new season and these fall favorites from National Geographic Kids Books are the perfect thing to add to your family's bookshelf, supplement distance learning, or check people off your holiday gift lists!
Nat Geo Kids Books Prize Pack
One Lucky Winner Will Receive the Nat Geo Kids Books Fall Prize Pack Valued at $108!
Hosted By:Home Jobs By Mom Co-Hosted By:COOLAGN & Nerdy Dad RP & Deliciously Savvy & Michigan Saving And More
WEBSITE ~ AMAZON Rules: Use The Rafflecopter Form To Enter Daily. The giveaway ends 10/31 And Is Open To The United States. Entrants Must Be 18 Years Old To Enter. The Winner Will Be Notified Via Email.
G ICGood Luck! Enter Below
a Rafflecopter giveawayOne entrant will be selected by the entry form to win a Nat Geo Kids Book Prize Pack. Open for entry in the United States, 18 years and older from 10/04/21 thru 10/31/21. No purchase is necessary. Void where prohibited. This giveaway is in no way endorsed, affiliated, or associated with Facebook, Twitter, or any other social media networking site. The winner will have 48 hours to respond to the notification email to claim their prize or a new winner will be selected. Once a winner is drawn and confirmed, the name will be announced on the Rafflecopter form. Nat Geo Kids will be responsible for sending the winners their prizes.
Thank You So Much For Visiting Today!Halloween Nation and Lesley Pratt Bannatyne Interview (Part 2) #countdowntohalloweenblog
As you may recall, yesterday I spoke to you about author, Lesley Bannatyne and the interview with her. This is a repost of the original interview in 2012. Enjoy my creepy readers!
~Michelle, Master Crypt Keeper
Welcome Lesley Bannatyne. Thank you for taking the time to do an interview with me and my blog, “Just the Stuff Ya Know.” (This blog is now call Musings & Merriment with Michelle) We are here to discuss about you and your book, Halloween Nation.
Her Web Site and FacebookPlease tell me a little about yourself .How did you get your start in the book industry?
I’ve been a writer since I graduate from college, and was working freelance for various magazines and ad agencies when a literary agent friend told me that Facts on File (a publishing house) was interested in holiday book proposals. ‘They have two left,’ she said. ‘Halloween and Election Day.’ I jumped at the chance to write a history of Halloween, sold the proposal, and spent the next three years researching and writing Halloween. An American Holiday, An American History. It was my first book.
How is it that you got so interested in Halloween?
I have loved Halloween from the moment I put on a cape and ran through the night with a pillowcase full of candy. But it was while working on my first book when I discovered how big, deep, and wide the subject is. It’s not “just” Halloween – it’s Irish mythology, church history, popular culture, media, movies, music, sociology, even science.
Was Halloween a fun time for you growing up? Did you have Halloween traditions?
I could barely sleep come October 1st, and the night itself never disappointed. My traditions were those of most of the kids of my generation: we figured out a costume or hounded our parents to buy masks and accessories, got the biggest trick-or-treat bag we could find, and went out the second it got dark with a big gang of friends, no curfew. My dad did the pumpkin carving, and my mom gave out treats, which, as far as I can remember, were always Snickers bars.
In chapter two of your book, Halloween Nation, you talk about our obsession with ghosts. You state, “We fear them, hunt them and try to pry secrets from their musty fists.” Why do you think if we fear them so much we even bother?
There’s no bigger mystery than what happens after death, so no matter how unsettling it can be to think about ghosts (or encounter them, if you believe that’s possible), we have a huge desire to know, and a deep curiosity that keeps us mesmerized by the spirit world.
In this same chapter you spoke about a project called “draw your soul”. I found that to be quite interesting. Why do you think we see ourselves so differently? How would you see your soul? Would you be willing to draw my readers a small picture?
I love this question. I think we see different things in our imaginations when it comes to soul because it’s such a personal concept, and also, because there are no models! We can’t help but be influenced by images of birds, flight, or the wisp-like portrayals that appear in paintings or drawings, but when you sit down and try to draw, something more human and individual comes through. I’d be happy to draw something for you!
Also in your book you talk about those on the fringe of Halloween. You know, those that take it to the extreme. That chapter was brief. Do you have any further thoughts about these people? Do you think you would do something that extreme? If so, what and why?
I did spend a lot of time with people who do all sorts of interesting things, like horror burlesque dancers, people who design Halloween-themed tattoos, and most of all with people who live Halloween at least half the year by spending time creating and building things to decorate their yards. For me, if I could have the time, I’d be in my garage building my own fake tombstones and ghosts. I found nearly everyone I talked to very, very creative, and it would be fun to explore that.
Your whole book is based on our obsession with Halloween. Did you come to a complete conclusion as to why we are so obsessed? Final thoughts?
It would be nice to say that our obsession with Halloween came from one cultural event or trend, but I don’t think that’s the case. Our obsession is equal parts nostalgia, the chance to be expressive or downright exhibitionist, the joy of the tolerance that Halloween brings, our passion for group glee, and our need for community celebration whether it’s trick-or-treating dressed as a tiny pumpkin, zombie-shambling down the main streets of your town, or running naked through a pedestrian mall with a pumpkin on your head.
I see that you have other books based on your knowledge of Halloween. Would you like to expound on them a bit?My first was Halloween. An American Holiday, An American History, which told the story of Halloween in this country; how some of its folklore traveled here with early Scottish immigrants and later, the Irish, Germans, Africans, Mexicans, etc., and how different ethnicities contributed to its celebration. The book takes Halloween through all the events of the 20th century, including the wars, the beginnings of trick-or-treating and up through the 1980s (it was originally published in 1990; it’s been through several printings, and is now published by Pelican Publishing Co.).
The next was A Halloween How To. Costumes, Parties, Decorations, and Destinations, and this was the book that introduced me to the Halloween community that exists today. It was published just after the internet had helped create the Halloween do-it-yourself yard-haunting phenomenon, and I corresponded with celebrants all over the country about monster mud and séances, Styrofoam tombstones, home-made costumes, and giant pumpkin boat races.
A few years later I went back to some of the research I’d done for the history book, and starting compiling an anthology of Halloween fiction, poetry, and plays from the past 400 years, which ended up in A Halloween Reader. Poems, Stories, and Plays from Halloweens Past. I dug around in the wonderful, deep archives of Widener Library at Harvard University, and found material that was sometimes beautiful, often funny, and very quirky. 
A children’s book came next, Witches Night Before Halloween (Twas the night before Halloween and all through the cottages / the witches were stirring their brews and their potages / The cupboards were bursting with hop-toads and newts / And they’d shined up their pointy-toed, fancy dress boots…you get the picture!)
Last year I published Halloween Nation. Behind the Scenes of America’s Fright Night (from Pelican; all may books are from Pelican now), which is my attempt to understand what’s driving the new popularity of Halloween, and why it means so much to so many people.
What advice would you give aspiring writers?
The main thing is to write about something you really, really love. A book takes a very long time and there are good days and bad days. If you’re not passionate about the subject, the bad days will sink you. Also, know that you’ll write it over and over again, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Ok ,some fun questions:
What was your favorite costume growing up? Worst?
Gypsy – with my mom’s makeup and a sparkly skirt, I had never felt more glamorous.Fireracker—it was a good idea on paper, but we made it out of chicken wire and it hurt to walk in it.
If you could be haunted by any famous person, who would it be and why?
Oscar Wilde. I can’t think of a better wing man. And if I could have another (please?), I would’t mind spending some time with Mary Shelley. I have questions about that summer on Lake Geneva.
Once again, thank you so much for allowing me to interview you. I have found you to be an intriguing person and most fun. ___________________________
October 9, 2021
A Halloween How To by Lesley Pratt Bannatyne (Part 1) #howto #Halloween #countdowntohalloweenblog #review
I want to start out this particular review with a shout-out to the author, Lesley Bannatyne. Years ago I did my very first review on another one of my blogs. The book was another one of the author's. I had no idea what I was doing but her publisher loved it so much and she did too that I received the book.
She was so gracious and ended up giving me an interview as well. What she did for me was reignited my love of reading, my love for reviewing (remember book reports) and my love for this holiday. I cannot thank her enough.
So, having said that, I am now getting another chance to read her how to book. In case you did not know, the author is one of the foremost experts on Halloween and the traditions behind it. This book let's her expertise shine.
As with many books, there is an acknowledgement page. I only mention this because the author is humble enough to know that her expertise comes from studying those who have come before her and those who enjoy the holiday as much as she does.
The book starts as all of her books do with the history of Halloween. Suffice it to say, this makes sense, as the book points out all traditions we have now can be pinpointed to certain things. The development of the Halloween we know now has morphed over many times.
Since this is basically a how-to book, that author covers everything you need to know for celebrating your own Halloween parties and traditions. From choosing the best pumpkins to carve, to floating in one, to how to decorate your house, feed your guest, and spook them at the same time. Yes, recipes are included and this reviewer kept a couple! *wink*
She goes on to tell the readers about real and not-so-real haunted houses across the country that includes addresses, websites, and phone numbers. Some of the best Halloween sites are discussed including, of course, Salem! (*Note: since this book was published in 2002 it is very possible that some of this information has changed due to the pandemic. I suggest looking up for updated details.)
One of the things I found intriguing was her section on myths and monsters. She breaks these things wide open and a couple, for me, was surprising. For eg. the razor in the apples myth. Yes, I grew up with that and even had my candy x-rayed. She discusses that too!
Finally, the book nears the end with trends we have today and for our future. Some people think that Halloween will fade away as other holiday have. However, the author makes a strong case for the continuation of Halloween in this book. I for one, think she is right!
If you, the reader, did not get enough from my review, of course, I highly recommend reading this book. You will find even more information in the back that includes resources and a bibliography.
This book gets 5 pumpkins from me!
Lesley Bannatyne is an American author who writes extensively on Halloween, especially its history, literature, and contemporary celebration. Bannatyne is also a freelance journalist who's covered stories ranging from druids in Somerville, Massachusetts to relief workers in Bolivia. Her most recent book, Halloween Nation. Behind the Scenes of America's Fright Night, was nominated for a Bram Stoker Award. She has written four other books on Halloween including a history, an anthology, a children's book and a How-To. Read more on http://www.iskullhalloween.com
October 8, 2021
#Spotlight: Murder Worth the Weight by D.M. Barr #Suspense #MurderMysteries #Giveaway
Book Details:Genre: Suspense, Romantic Suspense, Psychological Suspense, Women's Fiction
Published by: Punctuated Publishing
Publication Date: 08/09/2021
Number of Pages: 340
ISBN: 978-0-9977118-6-8
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Synopsis:
Whenever Terry Mangel's body acceptance revival meeting rolls into town, local diet execs and "fat shamers" turn up dead, often in grotesque, ironic ways. All single murders in small suburbs, no one's noticed a pattern, until rookie investigative reporter Camarin Torres takes a closer look.
Torres is a crusader against discrimination. She reluctantly accepts a job offered by handsome publisher Lyle Fletcher, a man with a vendetta, who sees the recent college grad as salvation for Trend, his fledgling fashion magazine. Torres, however, detests everything the publication stands for, and joins solely to transform its judgmental, objectifying content.
As an unexpected romance blossoms, the overconfident, justice-hungry reporter defies orders and infiltrates Mangel's world, only to find herself in the crosshairs of a vigilante group targeting the $60 billion diet industry. To this vindictive mob, murder is definitely worth the weight. But as Torres soon learns, unmasking the killer may save her life but shatter her heart: every clue seems to implicate Fletcher, her mercurial mentor and lover, as the group's mastermind.
Previously published as Slashing Mona Lisa
Read an excerpt:Chapter 1CAMARIN TORRES PEERED down the tracks again, as if repeated checking would cause her delayed train to magically appear. It was a warm April afternoon, but the unexpected heat did little to lift her spirits. She was heading back to her apartment after yet another unsuccessful interview. If this kept up, she’d be the only one of her NYU friends graduating next month without a job lined up. How ironic not to be able to afford the food she wouldn’t allow herself to eat anyway. She checked her watch a third time. The 5:03 from White Plains to Grand Central was already ten minutes late.
Camarin heard a voice a few feet behind her softly exclaim, “Dammit!” Curiosity aroused, she spied a girl in her late teens standing by the vending machine, fervently searching through her handbag.
Camarin stared, mesmerized by what could have been a mirror image of her late twin sister Monaeka. Long, dark hair partially obscured her tanned, pretty face, and despite the temperature, she’d draped her two-hundred-plus pound body in an oversized raincoat. But as Camarin well knew, yards of fabric didn’t really fool anyone. The girl hunched over slightly, a stance her sister Monaeka had perfected, a sign of deference to a world demanding an apology for violating their arbitrary standards.
Camarin felt a familiar tug of compassion as the girl plunked a few coins into the machine and then searched for more. Looking on, she debated the merits of acquiescing to her own desire for a late-afternoon sweet. What’s really the harm? Cam reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out three quarters, which she held out toward the stranger as she walked toward her.
“Want to share something?”
The girl tensed and gave her a quizzical look, but after a moment her shoulders relaxed. “That’s so nice of you. Thanks.”
Camarin winked and pushed the quarters into the machine. One click and clunk later, she retrieved their prize—a Kit Kat bar. One of Monaeka’s favorites. As she held it out to the girl, a slim, stylish woman clad in black came out of nowhere and snatched the chocolate bar right out of her hand.
“You don’t need it,” she said. “You’ll thank me later.”
The girl’s face turned bright red, but she said nothing, just watched in shock as the thief continued down the platform.
Camarin felt the blood rush to her temples. No matter how many years and miles she’d put between herself and her past, the critical voices kept seeking her out, today in the form of this interloper. Enough, she decided. She set down the briefcase containing her resume and clips and tore after the woman, grabbing her arm and pulling her around so they stood face-to-face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Camarin yelled.
Heads turned. Conversations ceased.
“What’s it to you?” the offender shot back.
Camarin pointed at the girl, whose eyes were wide in disbelief. “That girl happens to be a friend of mine, so I’m asking a second time… what are you doing?”
“Saving her from herself, that’s what. Your friend is huge, and it’s unhealthy. If she can’t control herself, she needs others to do it for her.”
“Well, Miss High-and-Mighty, since you know everything about everyone, did you ever consider that my friend…Sabrina’s…size might have nothing to do with self-control? Could it be the result of…the lithium she takes to control her bipolar disorder? Are you a psychiatrist who has a better suggestion for more appropriate meds that don’t put on weight?”
“Well, no… no,” the woman stammered, as if the rush of passion suddenly drained from her, leaving her feeling exposed.
“You know what I think?”
The fat shamer glared back but remained silent, so Camarin summoned her courage and repeated herself, a few decibels louder. “I said, do you know what I think?”
“No. What?” The woman sneered.
“I think you should go over to Sabrina and apologize.”
“Apologize for helping her get thin?” Her voice dripped with indignation.
“No, apologize for sticking your big nose where it doesn’t belong,” interjected a young, beer-bellied man in overalls a few feet away. A Joe’s Plumbing patch was embroidered on his chest pocket.
“What exactly do we have to do to be accepted by you people? Why can’t you just leave us alone?” screamed a plump, older woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a fitted suit.
“Give her back the Kit Kat bar,” hollered a man clad in military garb, who then started chanting, “Kit Kat, Kit Kat, Kit Kat…” Others joined in, and the cacophony grew stronger.
“You may have grabbed a Kit Kat, but you ended up with Snickers,” said Cam with a smirk. “Maybe you want to just hand over the candy, so we can forget this whole ugly incident?”
The woman spat at the ground in front of Camarin and defiantly threw the chocolate bar on the tracks, eliciting loud boos from the small but agitated crowd. Then she ran down the platform, heading for the stairs that led to the parking lot.
“Good riddance,” the plumber called after her.
Camarin stood for a moment, shaking from the encounter. Then she returned to the now teary-eyed girl. “Sorry I made you bipolar,” she whispered. “I needed to make a point, and it was all I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Hi, I’m Camarin.”
“I’m Lexie,” the girl said. “No one has ever stood up for me before. Thank you.”
“Hey, I know what it’s like. I used to deal with jerks like that all the time.”
The plumber pushed a run of quarters into the vending machine and took out two Kit Kat bars, handing one to each of the women. Others on the platform clapped and cheered. The sound was slowly drowned out by the roar of the oncoming 5:03 PM train.
As the doors opened, Camarin noticed Lexie and the plumber now chatting animatedly. Not wishing to intrude, she entered the next car over. It was practically empty, not unusual considering most people were traveling in the opposite direction at this hour. A perfect opportunity to relax after an upsetting confrontation. Perhaps savor that chocolate bar. She could always purge later.
Given the plethora of unoccupied seats, she was surprised when a handsome man in an expensive-looking suit asked if the spot beside her was taken. She guessed he was in his early forties, since his face was too young for the silver in his hair and beard. He spoke with a confidence so lacking in her gawky college-boy contemporaries. She felt a shiver as the silk of his sleeve touched her bare arm as he settled in.
She wondered what clever icebreaker she could use to engage her attractive new neighbor in conversation. Nice weather, huh? would be too lame. Seconds passed. Other passengers shuffled by. Soon, the moment would be lost.
Then, to her delight, he leaned in covertly, as if sharing a private confidence. “Nice going. You’d never seen that girl before in your life, had you?”
She pulled back and studied his expression. Affable or accusatory? His smile assured her of his friendly intentions.
“What gave me away?”
“Nothing. Just a hunch. One you just confirmed.”
Camarin twisted her mouth, irked at having been so easily played.
“Do you always go around tricking strangers into confessing their secrets?” she asked.
“Probably as often as you go around defending the underdog.” The man winked. “Nothing to be ashamed of though. Quite the opposite. As I think you’ve already figured out, life is just a series of bluffs.”
Camarin considered the comment as the train rumbled along the tracks toward Scarsdale.
“And do you bluff much?”
“Funny you should ask. These days, it’s all I do.”
Grateful for such a provocative opening, she pressed forward. “That sounds intriguing. Care to elaborate?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he said with a smile. “Up until a few years ago, I’d spent my entire career practicing law. Then my circumstances and interests changed, and I decided to become a redeemer of lost causes. I just purchased a failing magazine, which I intend to make profitable again. If that’s not the bluff of the century, I don’t know what is.”
Elegant and he owns a magazine? Camarin’s heart skipped a beat.
“That’s such a coincidence. I’m just coming from an interview with a magazine.”
“Some might call it a coincidence. I call it kismet,” the man said as he held out his hand. “Lyle Fletcher, fledgling publisher.”
Chapter 2AS THE TRAIN rolled down the tracks toward Manhattan, Camarin sensed her future suddenly lurching ahead as well. “Camarin Torres, journalism and prelaw major. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She reached out to shake his hand, eager to see if his grip would be as firm as she imagined, but the conductor interrupted, asking to punch their tickets. There was no way to try again without looking awkward, so she swallowed her disappointment and returned her hand to her side.
Fletcher broke the pregnant pause. “So, there must be many professions out there for someone as bold and beautiful as you. Why journalism and law?”
Camarin’s face grew warm. Had anyone else handed her that line, she would have regarded it as a come-on. But he seemed sincere, so she felt comfortable opening up. “All my life I’ve seen bullying and discrimination. As a child, I felt helpless to stop it. But as an adult, I can make a difference.”
“Bullying because of your ethnicity? You’re… ”
“My mother’s side of the family comes from Guam. But no, fortunately, I’ve encountered very little bias because of my roots. Maybe it’s because we live just outside Los Angeles, where I’m part of a large Chamorro community who share an intense sense of cultural pride. In fact, I think my background may have worked in my favor, that push for diversity in colleges and all.”
“So, discriminated against as a woman?”
“No again,” she said, reluctant to share too much of her past with a stranger, no matter how charming. “Let’s just say I’ve seen how cruel people can be to those who don’t quite fit in, no matter how hard they try. I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else ever again.”
“You’re going to personally end intolerance?” Fletcher seemed both dubious and amused.
“Well, at least make a sizeable dent in it,” she said with a smile. It wasn’t the first time that people had appeared incredulous at her idealism. “You’re speaking to the world’s first female Chamorro anti-discrimination crusader. After graduation anyway. And eventually law school, when I can afford it.”
“Lofty ambitions. You’ll need them in a world that doesn’t always cooperate with people’s dreams. Again, I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” she said, her face growing even hotter. A charismatic publisher thought she was impressive. A once-disappointing day was rapidly metamorphosing into something magical, like a child’s giant, colorful carnival balloon.
“Have you interviewed at my magazine, Trend?”
Pop! Camarin did her best not to cringe with contempt. Trend represented everything in the world she’d come to hate: the brainwashing of women to fit into narrow, permissible roles dictated by fashion designers and greedy advertisers. And this man, appealing or not, was one of their leaders. Camarin paused, trying to formulate a polite and diplomatic response.
“You have heard of it, right?”
“Yes, of course. But no, I didn’t interview there. No offense, but as you said, it’s failing. As a matter of fact, I turned down an unsolicited offer from one of your competitors, Drift. I’m just interested in more…serious publications.”
“No offense taken,” he said with a grin. “I realize that up to now Trend has just covered style and gossip—total fluff. That’s what I’m planning to change. In your words, go in a more serious direction.”
She wondered if the comment was authentic or if he was just another jerk and this was an excuse that allowed him to live with himself. They remained quiet for a bit, and then curiosity got the better of her.
“I didn’t realize Trend is based in Westchester.”
Fletcher’s face clouded over. “No, it’s in Manhattan. I was out here today because…my late wife owned a condo in White Plains that we’d been renting out. I was just meeting with the real estate agent I might hire to sell it for me.”
Cam looked down at her pumps, annoyed at herself for bringing up such a sensitive subject. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Of my wife or the condo?”
She glanced back, astonished. He started to laugh, and she felt the earlier harshness of her judgment soften by a smidgen. He really was quite charming—for a body shamer.
“Are you ever serious?” she asked.
“Oh, when I am, you’ll definitely know it. Like now. How many years of college do you have left?”
His tone switched from whimsical to all business, and something about the way he commanded control sent a shiver up her spine. Hot as hell. Dammit. “About a month. Then I’m done.”
The conductor announced that they would soon be arriving at Grand Central Station, their final destination, and the windows grew dark as they entered the tunnel.
He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a business card. It read Trend Magazine, with a fashionable NoHo address, close to her own apartment.
She held up her hand. “That’s kind of you, but I really don’t think—”
“Hey, I can see you’re not enamored with our current format. Nevertheless, I’d still like you to come in, show us your work. Allow us to describe the magazine’s revamped editorial direction. I think it may surprise you. I can use someone with your guts and ambition to develop our investigative-reporting beat. That is, if you have any interest.”
She took the card, slipping it into her jacket pocket. “If you’re really serious about moving away from your current focus, I’ll try to keep an open mind.” After all, a job was a job, and up to now, no one else but Drift had made an offer.
“Call tomorrow and speak to Rachel. She’ll set everything up. You’re going to be a superstar. Of that, I’m already certain.” He reached out to shake her hand. It felt as forceful as Camarin had imagined earlier. She didn’t try to read anything into the almost imperceptible squeeze he added at the end. Until proven otherwise, he was still the enemy.
As he rose and headed for the exit, she waited a few beats longer before also joining the crowd jostling toward the platform. By the stairs a newsstand featured the latest issue of Trend. Hating herself, she slapped down her $3.50 for a copy. Magazines like this were part of what had driven her sister over the edge, but she needed to see if there was anything redeemable within its pages. The jury was still out until Lyle Fletcher had proven himself a reformer, and not an enabler.
***
Excerpt from Murder Worth the Weight by D.M. Barr. Copyright 2021 by D.M. Barr. Reproduced with permission from D.M. Barr. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
By day, a mild-mannered salesperson, wife, mother, rescuer of senior shelter dogs, competitive trivia player and author groupie, happily living just north of New York City. By night, an author of sex, suspense and satire. My background includes stints in travel marketing, travel journalism, meeting planning, public relations and real estate. I was, for a long and happy time, an award-winning magazine writer and editor. Then kids happened. And I needed to actually make money. Now they're off doing whatever it is they do (of which I have no idea since they won't friend me on Facebook) and I can spend my spare time weaving tales of debauchery and whatever else tickles my fancy. The main thing to remember about my work is that I am NOT one of my characters. For example, unlike as a real estate broker, I've never played Bondage Bingo in one of my empty listings. As a yo-yo dieter, I've never offed anyone at my local diet clinic. While I'm a bit paranoid, I've never suspected my husband of wanting to murder me for my inheritance. Well, that's not entirely true, but let's go with that for now. And while I've volunteered at senior centers, I've never mastered the hula hoop. But that's not to say I haven't wanted to...Catch Up With D.M. Barr:DMBarr.com
Giveaway
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for D.M. Barr. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card (U.S. ONLY). The giveaway runs September 13 through October 10, 2021. Void where prohibited.
October 7, 2021
Pumpkin Countdown by Joan Holub #Halloween #pumpkins #review #bookseries
My review:
Did you know that pumpkins are 90% water and that a vine can grown up to 30 feet long? Well, I didn't either. This is just a couple of the facts written on the inside cover of this cute counting book.
A class takes a field trip to a pumpkin patch. Along the way, they count down from twenty. Items in the countdown are the number of kids on the bus, the number of things they guess they will see on the farm, and the number of animals in the petting zoo. Of course, there is a whole bunch more to count like the different kinds of pumpkins and a load of trivia about pumpkin growing. At the end of the book was a rhyming song. Of course, you will have to read the book to find out what it is. I can say, it is a familiar tune.As I have read and reviewed many of this author's books, I also enjoyed this one. The whole book was done in rhyme which made it appealing. Another things I liked about the book was the students were all diverse characters, including their teacher, Ms. Blue. Each had colorful names and clothing too. It does help that Fall is my favorite time of year and I like pumpkin patches. *wink*
I loved this book as a whole and is quite different from usual counting books. I give this book 5 pumpkins.
Disclosure: I received this book from the author. The views expressed here are 100% my own and may differ from yours. ~Michelle
Where to find the author:
Goodreads
Amazon
October 6, 2021
Deep Green Envy by Joy Ann Ribar #recipe #cozymystery #giveaway #CountdowntoHalloweenblog #spotlight
Cozy MysterySetting – Wisconsin
3rd in Series
Publisher : Ten16 Press (September 21, 2021)
Paperback : 344 pages
ISBN-10 : 1645382931
ISBN-13 : 978-1645382935
Digital Print length : 226 pages
ASIN : B09CMX8S6W
About Joy Ann RibarSummer in Deep Lakes sprouts a homegrown murder on the O’Connor farm. Frankie Champagne’s hunt for clues lands her deep in sheep doo-doo, especially after rare stones surface in unexpected places. Crime-solving is no picnic for the baker/vintner as she hops from farm to field to bakery, trying to keep up with the tourist season and track a killer, too.
Joy Ann Ribar lives in central Wisconsin with her business partner-husband, John. She writes the Deep Lakes Mystery Series, starring baker/vinter and all-around spitfire, Frankie Champagne. Joy’s writing is inspired by Wisconsin’s four distinct seasons and local flavors, which she hopes to promote for all to enjoy.
Joy is a member of Sisters in Crime, Midwest Independent Booksellers, and Wisconsin Writers Association. She enjoys researching viticulture at area wineries, birding, hiking, and chatting with readers. Joy and her husband, John, someday plan to sell their house, buy an RV and travel around the U.S. spreading good cheer and hygge! Joy is a little proud to have two bestsellers with Orange Hat Publishing: Deep Dark Secrets[image error] (2019) and Deep Bitter Roots[image error] (2020), under the Ten16 Press imprint of Orange Hat.
Author Links
Website: https://joyribar.com/Purchase Links – Amazon – B&N
Recipe from Joy Ann Ribar, author of Deep Green Envy
Not-Your-Average Cake Bites (Served at Joy’s Book Launch)
Strawberry Champagne Cake Bites (Yes, you can use a cake mix!)
1 Lemon Cake Mix (I like Duncan Hines best)
⅓ cup of light oil (I use the lightest olive oil I can find)
3 eggs
1 ½ cups of Prosecco or Champagne
Blend ingredients as directed on box. Bake in a 9x13 pan. Cool.
While the cake cools, make wine frosting:
2 cups powdered sugar
½ cup salted butter, softened, not melted
2 Tb Moscato, Prosecco or other white wine
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract
2 spoonfuls of strawberry jam (you can add more to taste)
Blend butter and powdered sugar, then add wine and vanilla. Stir in jam last.
Crumble up the cooled cake. Add ½ to 1 cup of wine frosting and check consistency before adding more. You should be able to form into balls without them falling apart. Do not feel bad if you want to add more strawberry jam to make the cake more jammy.
Chill or freeze the balls. Bites should feel solid before dipping them.
Dip in melted white chocolate and sprinkle if desired. I experimented and white chocolate had the best flavor for these bites.
When I planned the launch of my first book, I wanted to serve special treats. Since my main character is a baker and her name is Frankie Champagne, I transformed a traditional recipe for cake bites into a swanky version using white wine. The partygoers were not disappointed to say the least!
October 4, 2021
Frankenstein Doesn't Wear Earmuffs! by John Loren #Halloween Countdown 2021 #monsters #review
I have read a few Frankenstein books of various kinds. This happens to be one of the cutes.
It starts out as the "monster" is getting ready to leave on a Halloween night of scariness, candy, and mayhem. Soon, the reader finds out that the "monster" is a cute kid with the best Frankenstein costume ever!
Unfortunately, just he begins to step out, Dad stops him and says it is rainy and he needs his golashes. So, he reluctantly put them on and the story begins again but...STOP...this scenario repeats until he has finally had it and gives out a ROAR while throwing stuff off. The whole build up is hilarious!
What happens next comes to a conclusion as he meets and greets other "monsters".
I loved this book! To make it more fun the illustrator made all of the characters larger than life with dark tones and a spooky vibe but not enough to scare young children. The book made me laugh at each turn of the page.
Highly recommend. 5 stars.
Disclosure: I borrowed this book from my local library. The views expressed here are 100% my own and may differ from yours. ~Michelle
October 3, 2021
The Corpse In the Gazebo by Debra Sennefelder #giveaway #spotlight#ghost #CozyMystery #recipies #CountdowntoHalloween2021
Cozy Mystery 5th in Series Setting
Connecticut Publisher : Kensington (September 28, 2021)
Mass Market Paperback : 368 pages
ISBN-10 : 1496728939 ISBN-13 : 978-1496728937
Digital ASIN : B08RWQYH54
About the book:
Food blogging is turning Hope Early into a household name. But the dead body down the block makes her a #1 suspect . . .
It seems everyone loves Hope’s blog these days, and she’s busier than ever volunteering to help other women create their own paths to success. So she’s shocked when a neighbor petitions to run Hope right out of her small Connecticut town! Set in her ways, apparently Birdie Donovan doesn’t like the chaos Hope’s sleuthing creates, the police activity and crime scenes, and it’s happening way too often lately.
Eager to make amends, Hope bakes Birdie a batch of her best muffins. The delicious treats might have smoothed things over—until Hope discovers Birdie dead in her gazebo the very next day . . . Now instead of worrying about holding on to her beloved home, Hope is trying to stay out of jail. Because suddenly she’s the lead suspect in the case. Not even her boyfriend, Police Chief Ethan Cahill, is promising he can clear her name, much less discuss the investigation with her. It’s up to Hope to get to bake new ground on the case before the lifestyle brand she’s created—and her whole life—crumbles . . .
Includes Recipes from Hope’s Kitchen!
About the author
Debra Sennefelder is an avid reader who reads across a range of genres, but mystery fiction is her obsession. Her interest in people and relationships is channeled into her novels against a backdrop of crime and mystery. Her first novel, THE UNINVITED CORPSE (A Food Blogger mystery) was published in 2018. In addition to writing the Food Blogger mystery series, she writes the Resale Boutique Mystery series. When she’s not reading, she enjoys cooking and baking and as a former food blogger, she is constantly taking photographs of her food. Yeah, she’s that person. Born and raised in New York City, where she majored in her hobby of fashion buying, she now lives and writes in Connecticut with her family. She’s worked in retail and publishing before becoming a full-time author. Her writing companion is her adorable and slightly spoiled Shih Tzu, Connie.
Author Links · WEBSITE NEWSLETTER
Purchase Links – AMAZON – BARNES & NOBLE
Giveaway:
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