Brenda Whiteside's Blog, page 34
May 18, 2021
Gulf of Deception by Kelly Hopkins #review #NewRelease
NEW RELEASE DAY!
I'm so excited about this new book by up and coming author, Kelly Hopkins. You'll want to say you read her first book when she takes off, and then await her future releases.
Beach life is killer, literally.
Gulf of Deception is the first in a series. This book is categorized as Young Adult, but this all-grown-up lady thinks you'll find a great read no matter what age you're classified. She puts you on that beach, in that beach town. Her setting is a character all to itself. The suspense is gripping, and the story is complicated so you can't put it down. I highly recommend this book.
On the cusp of her high school graduation, Lily Harmony needs to figure out how to break it to her lawyer parents that she doesn’t want to follow in the family footsteps--especially with her band in high demand on the Fort Myers beach scene.
But when her father is killed inside his office and their mother accused of his murder, Lily and her estranged sister Annabelle are convinced the police have the wrong person. Clues are hard to come by until a mysterious man hands Lily a flash drive and warns her the information contained on it might get her killed. As Lily works to unravel what the files and pictures mean, a stunning discovery reveals the murderer might be closer than she thought.
With the help of her gamer BFF and maybe something more, Lily and her sister scour the Everglades for connections to her father’s killer. But what they find hidden in the canopy of cypress tress is more dangerous than they ever imagined—a long-lost secret worth millions—and worth killing for.
EXCERPT:
Sunlight streamed through the windows, and pang thudded deep in my chest. Hard to believe I wasleaving this stunning scene in a few short months for college. A thousand miles north in Boston, away from the sun, the sand, and the balmy breeze. At least the ocean was nearby— except it would be the lumbering, lead-colored, frigid Atlantic, and I’d be wearing an unflattering parka with boots up to my knees. Maybe when the snow melted in June, I could trick myself into believing I was standing on the Gulf.
All so I could one day add my name to the Harmony Law letterhead. Except that was the last thing I wanted.
My feet stopped short as a shock reverberated through the walls, like something heavy crashed down in another part of the building. But there were no other offices on the top floor. I pulled my headphones from my ears and turned off the music.
At the office door, I peered into the hall. A gust of humid air rushed down the narrow passage and ruffled my hair. Now where had the breeze come from?
Delicate music came from the speaker system—some unnamed melody that sounded familiar and
should have vocals. Another blast of breeze hit me as if someone had forgotten to shut a window.
“Mom?” I called. The law office answered me with soft strains of piano wafting down the hall.
“Dad?” My father’s door stood ajar at the far end of the building. Next to it, my mother’s office door was shut. Maybe they were both in Dad’s office. His was the only one with a balcony. They could have gone outside and left the door open.
Another violent crash came from the direction of his office. A gunshot rang out. Then another. Followed by a blood-curdling scream.
Mom!
Dad!
Terrified, I crept down the hallway, my back pressed against the wall, my cellphone pulled from my pocket and clutched in my shaking hand. My heart pounded, making me faint. I blinked away the sensation. Sharp blasts of unintelligible conversation drew me toward the office as wind whipped down the corridor.
I hesitated at the door and gasped.
Mom knelt beside Dad, a gun in her hand. Blood colored the front of his polo shirt—a crimson stain spreading from his chest and down his left side on a backdrop of stormy blue fabric. Strangled sobs ripped from my lips. I rushed in, dropped to the floor beside my father, and took his limp hand.
Glass shards bit into my knees as a terrible gurgle erupted from his throat. Bloody froth colored his chin and lips. The room spun around me.
Kelly Ann Hopkins is the author of Gulf of Deception (Gulf Shores Mysteries), High Vices (July 2021), and Buried Beneath (August 2021). She spends her days as a high school librarian and creative writing teacher where she challenges her students to read with abandon. When she’s not creating perilous adventures for her characters, she is dreaming of her next trip to the Florida Gulf Coast.
Kelly lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two children, and too many books.
Connect with Kelly here:
May 17, 2021
New Release
Writing for a Cause by Paty Jager #inspiration #indigenous #cause
MUSE MONDAY
Today, Paty Jager is my guest with a captivating story of the inspiration for her latest book. With my native American background, it's a story dear to my heart. Read on, enjoy, and learn!
I have always been an advocate for unjust things. When I see an injustice, I have a need to help in some way no matter how small. That is how I felt as I saw a post on Facebook about missing and murdered Indigenous women. Then when I started writing my Gabriel Hawke series, I subscribed to the CUJ (Confederated Umatilla Journal) the newspaper written and put out but the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla. I wanted to know more about the area where I had imagined my character growing up and where his mother still lived. It helped me to see him better and to learn more about where he came from.
Every time I receive one of the newspapers, I read it from front to back. When the stories about the missing and murdered women and the cause- women speaking out and making noise- I was drawn to the movement. The more I read and learned how many Indigenous women, children, and men were lost to their families because of lack of concern by the authorities, my anger rose. I wanted to help.
The best way I knew was to use my voice—and being a writer, that meant my writing voice. I decided Hawke would be called to the reservation by his mother to help find a missing woman. Once the idea took root, I couldn’t shake it.
And to not only spread the word, I decided that proceeds from the sale of the book would go to the non-profit organization, Enough Iz Enough. This organization works on the Umatilla Reservation with classes on how to protect and watch out for potential dangers, and to give voice to the missing tribal members.
I was fortunate when I began pulling information together to write the book to ask the organizer of the program if she would be willing to help me make sure my portrayal of the situation was accurate as well as logistics and information about the reservation. She was accepting of my request.
After reading the finished product, she also gave me a lovely review: “The story was captivating, I couldn’t put it down. So many memories were brought to surface, so many emotions, like this has been lived before, because it has, this is a glimpse into our reality in the Reservation. Thank you for seeing us & helping tell part of the story.” Kola Shippentower-Thompson Enough Iz Enough, Co-Founder & Director
I’m happy to say that Stolen Butterfly, Book 7 in the Gabriel Hawke Novels is now available for pre-order as an ebook. It will publish May 18th and be available in print by the end of the month and available in audio in July.
Also, this is my 50th published book. Which is why I am having a month-long Facebook party to celebrate. Join me over at https://www.facebook.com/events/887343232080078Where we are discussing my books, writing, and life in general. I’m also giving away prizes every day through the month.
Excerpt:
“We told the woman who called in, we have to wait seventy-two hours. These reservation women get liquored up and forget they have kids at home or decide they’ve had enough and walk out.”
Hawke stared at the bald-headed detective in his fifties that he’d been referred to when he explained why he was there. “Detective Lockland. You are stereotyping the reservation women. Most have strong motherly instincts and wouldn’t go on a drunk or walk away from their families. This woman happens to be one of those. She works at the bank in town, never misses picking her son up from the sitter, and doesn’t go out partying and drinking.”
“How do you know that? Her family could be lying to you.” The man wasn’t about to back down from his stand on what he thought to be the truth.
Ignorance about his people was something Hawke had fought all his life. “I know because I’ve been interviewing the people she works with and the people she spends time with. Something that might help us find her faster if you had done the same last night when my mother called you.”
The man leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Now I see. You’re one of them. Does your superior know you’re here poking around in someone else’s case?”
“Then you are going to investigate? If this is your case?” Hawke held back the disdain he felt for the man as the detective stuttered and tried to say it wasn’t a case until seventy-two hours had passed.
Here is the back cover blurb:
The proceeds from the sale of this book will go to the non-profit Enough Iz Enough. This is a community outreach organization that advocates for MMIP on the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation.
Stolen Butterfly
Gabriel Hawke Novel #7
When the local authorities tell State Trooper Gabriel Hawke’s mother to wait 72 hours before reporting a missing Umatilla woman, she calls her son and rallies members of the community to search.
Hawke arrives at the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation and learns the single mother of a boy his mom watches would never leave her son. Angered over how the local officials respond to his investigating, Hawke teams up with a security guard at the Indian casino and an FBI agent. Following the leads, they discover the woman was targeted by a human trafficking ring at the Spotted Pony Casino.
Hawke, Dela Alvaro, and FBI Special Agent Quinn Pierce join forces to bring the woman home and close down the trafficking operation before someone else goes missing.
Pre-order Link for all ebook vendors: https://books2read.com/u/baZEPq
Paty Jager is an award-winning author of 50 novels, 8 novellas, and numerous anthologies of murder mystery and western romance. All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Paty and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. Riding horses and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.
blog / website/ Facebook / Paty's Posse/ Goodreads / Twitter / Pinterest / Bookbub
May 14, 2021
Fearless Traveler by Kayelle Allen
Fearless Traveler by Kayelle Allen #FearlessFriday #military #travel
FEARLESS FRIDAY
I'm so happy to have the amazing author, Kayelle Allen on Discover... today. She has a great tale of fearlessness. Enjoy!
24 years old, in love, and fearless: Kayelle Allen shares her European journey
In 1975 I was 24 years old and fearless. Which is why I made a trip to Europe without buying an airline ticket, with only $400 in my pocket.
I was active duty military back then (Navy) and so was my husband. He was stationed on the John F Kennedy, doing a cruise in the Mediterranean while I was stationed in San Diego. Each was completely half-way around the world from the other. We'd only been married since December of 1973, and it was now October 1975. He'd left on the cruise the day before Valentine's Day. (Thank you, Uncle Sam.) So when I had the chance to take 30 days of leave and go visit him, I jumped into action.
If you're active duty, you can hop onto a military flight at no cost, as long as there's an empty seat. I paid for a flight from San Diego to Pennsylvania, got a shuttle bus to the Air Force base there, and put my name in for a flight. I was a lower priority than someone reporting for duty, but if there was an open seat, I was in.
A retired couple who'd been there for weeks trying to get a flight told me it might take a long time. I was higher priority than they were, so I had a chance. But I convinced them that I was getting on a plane that very night, and for them to check out of their hotel and stay in the airport with me. One of those gut feeling decisions that you make with no reason. I am intuitive, and I had a good feeling about it.
About 3:30 in the morning, an unexpected flight came in that was heading to Germany non-stop. I wanted to go to Naples, Italy, but Germany was a lot closer, so I said I'd go. The other couple came with me. The plane took off a little after 4:00 with empty seats. The three of us had been the only people in the airport.
Once I arrived, I met an active duty couple who were flying to Aviano, quite a long way north of Naples, but still in Italy. I got on that flight with no trouble. The couple invited me to stay overnight at their place because there were no flights scheduled for 2 days. I joined them for an evening out with friends and ate the best pizza of my entire life. I hadn't slept well in a few days, so once I stretched out and closed my eyes, I was gone.
When the next flight was scheduled, they drove me to the base, and I thanked them and checked in. I was on a flight within an hour or so. This one went straight into Naples.
An American guy who was living in Naples said he'd show me the hotel if I'd pay the taxi fare for both of us, which I did. Had a wild ride through the city. He told me that the people in Naples start their car and blow their horns. It was noisy enough that I had no trouble believing that.
Next day, I got a ride to the Navy base where the liberty launch (a smaller ship) was bringing people in for leave. I was beside myself when I saw my husband. We had quite the unforgettable reunion, believe me.
This was all back before the internet or cell phones. One call home from Italy cost us $99 because we talked so long. We didn't have text messaging. We had to communicate where we'd be and when by mail, days ahead.
Looking back, it was a gutsy thing to do. I wouldn't dream of it now. But back then, I was young, in love, and fearless.
Check out one of Kayelle's books:
Surrender Love
An immortal alpha male. An illegal, near-blind rock musician. And twelve thousand years of lies...
Izzorah survives by hiding both his illegal status and his blindness for fear of banishment.
Luc's immortal blood can heal Izzorah's sight—but only Izzorah's love can heal Luc's heart.
Luc might risk violating the highest law among the immortals by sharing his blood, but it means revealing the truth of what he is, and that means baring every damning secret, every twisted truth, and twelve thousand years' worth of dirty hidden lies.
With no guarantee their love can survive that kind of truth...
Amazon worldwide and Kindle Unlimited https://books2read.com/surrender-love-immortal
About the Author
Kayelle Allen writes Sci Fi with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role-playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr. She is the author of multiple books, novellas, and short stories. She's also a US Navy veteran and has been married so long she's tenured.Sign up for her newsletter and get free Sci-Fi stories, book recommendations, and become a Tarthian Empire citizen (and an immortal), among other reader exclusives. https://kayelleallen.com/immortality
Twitter http://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Instagram https://instagram.com/kayelleallen
Kayelle's Keepers http://facebook.com/groups/KayellesKeepers
Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kayelle-allen
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/710889.Kayelle_Allen
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Kayelle-Allen/e/B003ZRXVN8
May 6, 2021
Reading and #Reviews (Evanovich, Hayes, Brown)
I'm a writer, but I'm also a reader. Each month, I'll share with you reviews of present and past reads. My available time to read is limited because I write, but I love to curl up with a paperback or an eBook at night for the last hour of my day.
I tend to read what I write, but not exclusively. Besides Romantic Suspense, I read crime and law novels, once in a while a true story, WWII historicals, mysteries, and main stream character driven books.
Here are some of the books I've read recently or in the not-too-distant past. Maybe you'll discover a new book or author!
Twisted Twenty-Six by Janet Evanovich I’ve read a few of Ms. Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels. Quite frankly, I got tired of them after several in a row. I waited a few years to pick up one again. This one is amusing. The suspense is lighthearted and Grandma does a lot of tongue in cheek actions, but that’s what is entertaining about the story. As far as the romance part, I didn’t realize she’d ended up with the cop. I didn’t know she’d slept with the other bounty hunter, Ranger, somewhere along the way. Ranger and the cop seem to be okay with each other, although Stephanie implies she could sleep with Ranger again. I doubt I’ll pick up another Stephanie Plum story for a while because they tend to be the same. But I just might have to read book eight when she slept with Ranger. He’s my fav.
Blurb:
Grandma Mazur has decided to get married again - this time to a local gangster named Jimmy Rosolli. If Stephanie has her doubts about this marriage, she doesn't have to worry for long, because the groom drops dead of a heart attack 45 minutes after saying, "I do."
A sad day for Grandma Mazur turns into something far more dangerous when Jimmy's former "business partners" are convinced that his new widow is keeping the keys to a financial windfall all to herself. But the one thing these wise guys didn't count on was the widow's bounty hunter granddaughter, who'll do anything to save her.
Date Night by Samantha Hayes I kept at this book because it was so confusing. I know that sounds odd, but a book has to be boring or written badly for me to put it down. The writing is not all that great in this one, and like I said, the way she hops around in the sequence of events is confusing. But the first-person telling had me a little hooked. I had to know the ending and didn’t want to just skip ahead. I was rather fascinated, probably because I write, to know how she was going to wind it up.
Blurb:
Returning early from a disastrous date night with my husband, I know something is wrong the moment the wheels crunch the gravel drive of our home. Inside, the TV is on and a half-eaten meal waits on the table. My heart stops when I find our little girl is alone in the house and our babysitter, Sasha, is missing…
Days later, when I’m arrested for Sasha’s murder and torn away from my perfect little family, I’ll wish I had told someone about the threatening note I received that morning.
I’ll hate myself for not finding out who the gift hidden inside my husband’s wardrobe was for.
I’ll scream from the rooftops that I’m innocent – but no one will listen.
I will realise I was completely wrong about everything that happened that night…
But will you believe me?
The Crush by Sandra Brown Her blurb below is enough to tell you about the book. I read this years ago and found it mediocre for entertainment, but a decent read. The love scenes are good so that upped the entertainment value.
Blurb:
After she unwittingly frees a dangerous contract killer, a surgeon reluctantly joins forces with a tenacious detective obsessed with taking down their enemy at all costs.
As a surgeon, Dr. Rennie Newton is the consummate professional. When she's summoned to jury duty, she brings competence and composure to the courtroom -- a skill she learned while performing surgeries. It is this commitment to precision that compels her to deliver a not guilty verdict in the murder case against notorious contract killer Ricky Lozada.
It will be the most regrettable decision of her life. When a rival colleague is brutally slain, Lozada's menacing shadow looms over the murder, but the investigators pinpoint Rennie as the prime suspect. Soon, the police begin violating the privacy she has cultivated and protected at all costs. And when Lozada begins an earnest courtship, it becomes terrifyingly clear that he is obsessed with having her.
Wick Threadgill is a detective on indefinite leave from the Fort Worth PD with a very personal agenda for the contract killer. Temperamental, bitter, and driven by loyalty and love, Wick is determined to destroy Lozada. In order to defeat him -- and save their own lives -- Rennie and Wick form an uneasy alliance.
Mistrustful of each other, they know only one thing with absolute certainty: like one of Lozada's prize scorpions, they won't see it coming when this killer strikes. The Crush will take you on a tortuous path through a twisted sociopath's eerie obsession, a haunted man's fragile hopes for redemption, and a woman's heart as she struggles to face her greatest fear: to open herself to love.
May 3, 2021
Cuddle with a Dragon for #Inspiration by Darcy Carson #MuseMonday
MUSE MONDAY
Please join me in welcoming Darcy to Muse Monday on Discover... We authors find our inspiration all sorts of ways. Darcy lives with hers, and he's cute and cuddly. Share with us, Darcy.The music loving dragon, Torkel, in the third book in the Dragons Return series, SHE WAKES THE NIGHT, is based on my black, ten-pound toy poodle, Bandit. When I brought him home as a teeny-tiny puppy, he had a white chin and his middle claws on his back feet were white. I always wondered what he thought of that…so when I created Torkel, I patterned him after Bandit’s coloring. Bandit loved being held and putting his head on my chest and I imagined him listening to my heartbeat. Why not create a dragon who liked listening to music? That’s how a writer’s mind works sometimes.
Blurb:
Trell Langois escapes a thousand-year-old curse. Being trapped as a tree wasn’t on her bucket list, but now she can continue as a healer. Traveling with her dragon, Torkel, she seeks out new cures to help others and meets Gren, an unfortunate soul who suffers from a dreadful disease.
Gren Oyg Har is a prince on a mission. In order to rule his father’s kingdom, he must first find a healer. Not just any healer, mind you, but one with a dragon. Yet, it is Trell who finds and rescues Gren, but wants nothing to do with him. If not for Torkel, she would leave him behind.
Separate goals soon become entangled, and both Trell and Gren are on their way to falling in love until secrets better kept hidden become known—and threaten to destroy all they hold dear.
Excerpt: “The music. The human stopped playing. ‘Tis all your fault.”
Trell shook her head. Sometimes… “Return to the dragon circle, if you dislike my methods.”
“I follow where you go.”
She gave up and paused to listen. Sure enough, the sounds returned to normal where people conversed with one another. The stomp of iron-hooves striking the ground added a low tremor as they continued to nicker.
Squaring her shoulders, Trell replaced the lantern to where she round it. She put water on the fire and wiggled under the wagon. Gren sat with his legs crossed, the flute in his lap.
“You must be weary,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to play while I was away.”
“I missed you, and playing allowed the time to pass quicker.”
Her heart fluttered at his flowery woods. “How do you feel? I’ve put a kettle on for Grandmother Lurri’s tea. I could make you some chamomile as well.”
“That’s unnecessary,” he answered. “My neck is just still, is all.”
“Allow me to make you feel better while the water heats.” She reached for him.
He jerked back. “Touching me is unwise.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, continuing to scramble over to him. Her fingers brushed over his neck and shoulders. Much to her surprise, his muscles felt like the cords of a warrior, not those of a sick man.
He scrambled away and stretched his arm to prohibit her from getting closer. “Stay back.”
That fleeting touch caused a tingle to run up her fingers like warm water. The sensation flowed up her arms, seeping into all her pores until her head spun.
How sick was he? The disease caused a person to lose extremities due to repeated injuries and infection. They had to be amputated. Some people died within five years, others lasted for several decades. No one knew why.
She liked Gren and wanted to help him. Yet she was sure he hid something from her. How sick was he? Or was he sick at all? She hated having doubts. His feelings mattered to her. It wasn’t fair such a kind, decent man suffered. She watched him tuck away the flute with care. A task hampered by rags covering his large hands. Yet those same hands created beautiful music.
She eyed him and smiled. “I would say you have magic in your hands.”
“What you do mean?” He repeated her earlier words.
“You create powerful music. It brings joy to all who hear.”
She examined the back of his head from under her lashes as if her gaze could pierce his ragged cowl. His music tugged at her heart with its appeal, but something deeply earthy pulled her to the man himself.
That was wrong.
Author Bio: Award-winning author, Darcy Carson, grew up reading everything her mother brought home from the library. Reading romances became her favorite genre. Eventually her love of those novels led her to start writing them. She resides in a Seattle suburb with her husband and a prince of a toy poodle.
Author Social Links:
Website: https://darcycarsonbooks.com/
Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/?_rdr
April 30, 2021
About Supernatural Beings Known as Houbies (and being fearless…or feckless) by J. Arlene Culiner #FearlessFriday #supernatural
FEARLESS FRIDAY
It's always fun to have J. Arlene Culiner on Discover... Her Fearless Friday post is no exception. So grab a cup of whatever, sit back, and enjoy the read! I live in an area of France where ancient sunken paths lead between villages or isolated farmhouses. Many of these dirt lanes, hidden behind high hedges, are pre-Roman, and when I walk along them, I think of long-forgotten peoples — Diablintes Aulerques or Abrincates — who wandered here two or three thousand years ago. Less than a hundred years ago, these ways were still used by itinerant preachers, postmen, workers, shepherds, and cowherds who needed to get from one farm to another, one village to the next. Needless to say, I rarely meet another soul when I’m walking along these damp, shady, secretive lanes, and it’s easy to see why superstition held on longer in this region, why there are still village sorcerers, casters of spells, and a belief in supernatural beings.
Some years ago, I temporarily moved to an old house along a local river, and I particularly enjoyed walking along the old towpath that headed into a small forest before continuing on to the closest town. And one late spring evening, there I was, stuck in that town with my huge black dog named Dog, and with no way of getting home. Yes, I could have waited for a ride, but that would have meant killing off two or three hours. Wouldn’t it be more fun to walk? My house wasn’t far, only around five miles…or so I thought, for I had never gone the entire way on foot. I was quite wrong: it was almost twice that distance. I also hadn’t reckoned on darkness.
I had covered quite a bit of ground when night fell, and I couldn’t find the path leading toward the wood.
For the next hour or two, I stumbled over tree roots, headed down sunken lanes at random, and I always ended up in marshy fields or impenetrable thickets. Dog was of great help, finding a way through hedges, leading me to dry ground, but he couldn’t tell me which path was the right one. I wasn’t frightened — I didn’t have time for that — but I was unhappily resigned to the idea of wandering until dawn or sleeping curled up against a tree. The night grew colder: my long black coat and black scarf were warm, but not warm enough. Finally, exhausted by my thrashing about, I was relieved to see a light far ahead. A feeble light, yes, but light meant electricity and civilization, didn’t it? And, sure enough, Dog and I soon found ourselves in a farmyard surrounded by barns and a low stone house. I went up to the door, knocked. I heard voices inside the house, but no one answered. I knocked again. Then again. I couldn’t leave without getting directions. Finally, a window was opened, and a heavy wooden shutter was thrown back. A woman appeared, and she began screaming: “Go away! Go away, go away, go away!” “All I want are directions to the river…” “Go away!” “I’m lost. I need directions.” Behind her, a man materialized. He was holding a rifle. “Get away from here.” I did, of course. Sticking around was unhealthy. But what odd people they were. Just my luck to find the strangest people in the area. I stayed lost for quite a while, then miraculously found a path to the river. After another hour or two, I was home. A few days later, when sitting with a group of local people, I told them about my experience. “Of course they told you to go away,” said one man. “They were scared silly.” “Of what? Me? A lone woman with a dog.” “Yes, you. There you were, wearing that long black coat and walking with a black dog. They thought you were a houbie.” “What in heaven’s name is a houbie?” “An evil spirit in a black cloak who wanders through the countryside, brings back luck, and casts the evil eye. Local belief says that if a houbie asks a question and you answer, you’ll soon die. That’s why they wouldn’t give you directions. You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you.” “Many years ago, my father’s sheep were being stolen by a houbie,” said another man. “Everyone said there was nothing he could do, but my father wasn’t superstitious, so he took his gun, hid out in his field, and waited. One night, he saw a figure in a black cloak creep out of a hedge and head for the sheep. My father stood up, cocked his rifle and got ready to shoot. The houbie saw him, turned, and ran off leaving his black cloak behind. But my father had seen that the so-called houbie was his next-door neighbor.” I can’t put my experience down to fearlessness. I was only being foolhardy…as usual. But I do love writing about fearless heroines. Like me, they always get themselves into tricky situations, or find themselves in dangerous parts of the world, or they take chances, or they risk falling in love with impossible people. But no matter what happens, they’re always fun to read about.
Find all of J. Arlene Culiner's books here: AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
Her web site: Ms. Culiner's Web Site
April 19, 2021
Crime, Corruption, and Health by Kim McMahill #suspense #series
MUSE MONDAY
My guest, Kim McMahill's muse is doing a good job for her. Inspiration has netted her a sure fire successful series. Enjoy her tale...
I’m often asked about where I get inspiration for my stories. Ideas for my books come from many different places including dreams, travel, personal experiences (grossly exaggerated), and current issues. Most of my novels have been stand-alone adventure and romantic suspense novels, but the idea for my most recent project, the Risky Research Series, began to emerge as I started getting to an age when keeping fit and healthy started taking a little more effort and a lot more research. Nearly every woman I know, myself included, educates herself about nutrition, exercise, fitness, diets, etc. in order to live a healthier life, manage a medical issue, or to lose weight. I’ve found there is so much information out there that it is often difficult to sort out fact from fiction. The diet and nutrition industries are worth in the range of 40 to 100 billion, which makes it even more challenging to ascertain who or what to trust. With so much on the line for something that impacts nearly everyone, there is no doubt plenty of corruption and crime infiltrating the industry, making it perfect fodder for a crime suspense series.
So, about six years ago I started the series with A Dose of Danger, which deals with a potential miracle diet pill. Book 2, A Taste of Tragedy, revolves around a deadly sweetener, book 3, A Foundation of Fear, explores the role of lobbyists and politics in the industry, and the latest novel in the series, A Measure of Madness, begins to see the criminal organization crumble as the FBI closes in. Like all good things, I hope, the series must end. I’m currently working on the fifth, and likely, final installment in the series. I also should mention that there are two prequel short stories available for free download, A Formidable Foe, and Midnight in Montana.
Blurb .
Excerpt
Sharing her guilt with Gage drained Devyn. She returned to the shaded bench and plopped down. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to picture Gage’s handsome face rather than the blood oozing from Nick’s neck. “What are you wearing, cowboy.”
He laughed, and the sound made Devyn’s heart skip a beat.
“Well, I just finished with the chores, so I’m afraid I have on a dirty pair of blue jeans, an old faded t-shirt, cowboy boots, and a Utah Jazz ball cap, because that reminds me of that game we went to when I was in town for Nick and Morgan’s wedding.”
Devyn smiled. The image of their date night to a basketball game made her miss him all the more.
“I do love a man in uniform, but that outfit sounds pretty darn good to me right now, too.”
Buy Links
https://www.amazon.com/Measure-Madness-Risky-Research-ebook/dp/B08TX7C1BZ/
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-measure-of-madness-kim-mcmahill/1138684987?ean=9781522398837
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-measure-of-madness
Bio
Social links
Blog: http://www.kimmcmahill.blogspot.com
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Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/KimMcMahillAuthor/
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April 14, 2021
Football and Food, a Great Combination! by Desiree Holt and Liz Crowe #recipe #WickedWednesday
WICKED WEDNESDAY
What a wicked treat it is to have two great authors as my guests today on Wicked Wednesday, Discover... Let's hear from Liz Crowe and Desiree Holt. Enjoy!
We love football (actually, I am obsessed with it!...Des) so it’s natural that we’d love tailgate foods. What is a tailgate, you say?
A tailgate party is a social event held on and around the open tailgate of a vehicle. Tailgating, which primarily takes place in the United States and Canada, often involves consuming alcoholic beverages and grilling food. Tailgate parties occur in the parking lots at stadiums and arenas, before and occasionally after games and concerts. People attending such a party are said to be 'tailgating'. Many people participate even if their vehicles do not have tailgates. Tailgate parties also involve people bringing their own alcoholic beverages, barbecues, food etc. which is sampled and shared among fans attending the tailgate. Tailgates are intended to be non-commercial events, so selling items to the fans is frowned upon. Tailgating is often seen as a critical part of the sports experience in the United States. Because many American sports venues are surrounded by large parking lots, tailgating often takes place right outside stadium and arena entrances. You want dishes that work well hot or cold and this one, Chipotle and Lime Roasted Potatoes, really appeals. It’s great hot or warm or room temperature and the dressing is addictive.
A WICKEDLY GOOD RECIPE
Cut up small potatoes, season with salt and toss them about with a spoon some more. Place them
in an oven to roast while you prepare your dressing. To prepare the dressing, chop up some chipotle peppers and add some garlic. Place them, in a small bowl and stir. Next zest your lime and add that to the small bowl. Then squeeze in the juice. Drizzle in some olive oil last and mix it all together. Let it sit and macerate while your potatoes finish roasting. Your potatoes will be golden brown and tender when they’re ready. Let them cool slightly so that they don’t cook the dressing. Then pour the dressing over it generously and stir it all together well. Sprinkle in the freshly chopped cilantro last for some extra flavor and freshness. Wickedly hot and wickedly good!
A little background:
From Des: It’s funny how life makes things happen. Liz Crowe and I bonded over two things: we’re both authors and she lived at the time in Ann Arbor, Michigan, home of the University of Michigan, my alma mater. I bleed maize and blue. Not only that I am a football fanatic. That should be in capital letters by the way (grin). We had batted back and forth the idea of writing a book together, but when she presented me with a football signed by both Jim and Jon Harbaugh, how could I say no!
From Liz: Re: tailgating, I was the founder and owner /marketing director for a brewery that was located exactly one mile down Stadium Blvd. from The Stadium (a.k.a he Big House) where Michigan plays football. On 12 noon kickoff Saturdays, I’d be at the brewery early, for people to pick up their pre-ordered kegs or cases of or beer. And when I say early I mean six or six-thirty a.m. because these folks took their tailgating seriously. I would then try and visit the various tents and parties where our beer was being served. A lot of tailgating in Ann Arbor occurs on the lawn of Pioneer High School, which is across the street from the Big House, which is John Harbaugh’s alma mater (he’s head coach of the Baltimore Ravens). My kids all attended there and played sports so I helped organize and run an athletic fundraising event honoring John and his brother Jim who’d just been hired as Michigan’s each coach. I made sure to get Desiree a signed football—a little bribe so she’d write with me!
NUMBERS GAME
is the story of second chances. Duncan “Hatch” Hatcher needs to resurrect himself after nearly destroying himself with an addiction and Olivia Grant is trying to keep her ex-husband from tanking her career for the second time. They each consider the possibility of redemption but they have a lot of obstacles to overcome. Buy it here!
https://books2read.com/NumbersGame
