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The Conductor: A Beatrix Patterson Mystery

The Conductor, A Beatrix Patterson Mystery  by Eva Shaw [image error]

 
A Giveaway + an Excerpt + Book & Author Info!
 
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The Conductor


Strikes, blackmail, and murder plague Beatrix amid growing unrest following the supremacist ideologies of World War II.

Beatrix Patterson has faced monsters before, but in a world teetering on the edge of social change, she comes up against her most complicated case yet. In one chaotic morning, her friend has been arrested following a fight during a strike at the railroad, the railroad owner was found murdered, and another close friend admits to being blackmailed.

Amid growing tensions between the Union Pacific Railroad and workers’ strikes, Beatrix must go undercover before more people are killed or injured. But as she dives into this investigation, she finds one consistent group at the center.

In order to bring down the racial supremacist group digging its claws into Santa Barbara, California, she must put her intense loathing aside to stop the threat before it can reach Thomas, their baby girl Birdy, and the life they’re building. With deadly secrets everywhere she turns, Beatrix has to keep her cards close to her chest if she hopes to escape this case unscathed.

Praise for THE CONDUCTOR:

“Historical mystery readers seeking stories rooted in social change and racial strife will find The Conductor a gripping story”
~ Diane Donovan, Midwest Book Review

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: TorchFlame Books
Publication Date: April 8, 2025
Number of Pages: 280
ISBN: 978-1611536133
Series: Beatrix Patterson Mystery Series, Book 4 

Find the series on: Amazon & Goodreads
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | TorchFlame Books
 

Read an excerpt of The Conductor:

Chapter 1

Santa Barbara, California. March 1948

“Fancy a snog?”

Thomas didn’t wait for a reply as he kissed his wife once and then again before holding up their infant, Birdy, to place a soft peck on Beatrix’s cheek. The little one waved with both chubby arms, and her almond-shaped eyes always made Beatrix blink in astonishment, feeling wonder and joy, fear and gratitude, all balled together. It was nothing she’d ever experienced.

“Can’t you just say ‘kiss’ rather than snog, darling? It sounds scandalous,” Beatrix protested.

“My point exactly.” He kissed Beatrix again, then turned to the nearly year-old baby. “Amazing wave there, Birdy, and now, come on. You can do it. You can say ‘Daddy.’” Thomas had been coaching her to wave and say Daddy, consumed with it for weeks.

“You know, Thomas, that Birdy might not actually speak until after her first birthday. And ‘Ma’ is the easiest sound for her. The wave, however, is quite genius,” Beatrix said.

“Isn’t she just? Don’t wait up for us.” He laughed again.

They’d just finished breakfast, so this made Beatrix chuckle, her brown hair with the auburn highlights stuck back in a loose ponytail. She was dressed for the garden in green denim overalls and a blue, lightweight pullover. She was eager to get digging in the dirt. In another month, the flower beds would be exploding with a riot of reds, yellows, and orange nasturtiums, happy-faced Marguerite daisies, and yellow coreopsis with white cosmos accenting the design. Sweet alyssum in puffy clouds would round out the color scheme. She planned to jam the beds and pots with everything the local nursery offered.

As anxious as she was to plant the starters she’d bought at the nursery center the previous day, Beatrix never rushed their goodbyes. Not in the most secret places of her heart or her wildest dreams, in the darkest times of her life as an unwanted orphan, lost in a series of boarding schools as a teenager, and floundering to make a living during the horrors of the war, did she ever think her life would be filled with the love of a devoted husband and the cutest baby on the planet.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of their ever-so-slowly-being-renovated Victorian mansion in the sleepy, little California beach town of Santa Barbara, Beatrix moved closer to Thomas, slipped her arm around his trim middle, and moved in for a hug. In the cheerless days of World War II, all the gratitude she felt in that moment had been impossible even to dream about. She trailed her fingers down her cheek, where soft baby lips had just been, and sighed.

“Think we’ll saunter over to Woolworths Five and Dime for an escapade, and certainly we’ll be back before elevenses, which I prefer to call it over your Americanized ‘snack time.’ That chocolate chip scone in the pantry is to share with our tea, my dearest Bea. Not my best baking, but it had better be there when I return.” He produced a frown, knowing she had a penchant for chocolate—the reason he’d baked them.

“Wave goodbye to Mummy, Birdy pet. We’re off for a jaunt,” he said, and Birdy did exactly as her daddy asked. Then the twosome was off for their quick spin in the neighborhood or even farther to Sterns Wharf or north to the mission. Down the sidewalk they went, and Beatrix waved to their backs. She loved his smile and knew how broad it would be, even as she watched them moving toward the shops.

Thomas had procured, somehow, an honest-to-goodness British pram in the traditional navy blue fabric. She often thought he got more British by the day, although they’d lived in this community since the end of the war. He insisted that sweaters were jumpers and knackered meant that he or the baby was tired.

Just like Thomas, Birdy seemed to mostly have an “on” switch where she was happily and thoroughly engaged with toys, cooing, and making sounds that would eventually become words, and the rare “off” one, where she, as Thomas did, slept like a bag of rocks. While they had fostered and then adopted Birdy as an infant, it was remarkable to friends, family, and strangers how much the baby looked like Thomas and Beatrix. She had striking, intelligent eyes that constantly watched where her parents were, wild hair just like Thomas’s, and smooth, creamy skin like Beatrix’s. Most likely, they’d discussed, they’d never find her birth parents—who had left her, hours after her birth, at Cottage Hospital—or know her heritage.

Thomas had researched the possibility of using blood samples or even the cutting-edge science of gene testing to determine her ethnicity, but without any way to find Birdy’s biological parents, it hardly mattered. They had just the previous evening talked about adopting more children and knew as soon as was appropriate that they’d explain to all the Patterson-Ling kids that they had been chosen, just like Mummy and Daddy had chosen each other.

They’d decided to name the little girl after all of their mothers and call her Jay. She would be Jennie, for Beatrix’s adoptive mother; Adelina, for her biological mother; and Ya, for Thomas’s mother, which in Chinese meant refined, elegant, and graceful. About a month after the baby came into their lives, there was a flock of squawking and comical California scrub jays frolicking the bird bath in the garden, and the little girl’s nickname morphed into Birdy.

Thomas moved with grace and a quiet confidence, which Beatrix knew came from his years of martial arts training. Thomas was lithe and just an inch taller than his wife at five foot eight. He never thought there was anything unmanly about strolling around the city with the little girl and was totally in love with the child, as he’d told Beatrix that morning and every morning since the little one had joined their lives.

Thomas felt burdened with guilt as he headed into downtown Santa Barbara. He knew it was not cricket to conceal the letter he’d placed in his jacket’s pocket when he picked up the morning mail. Yet, as with everything in his well-organized life, he dreamed it would be better to wait until evening to discuss what had been written. Was this an opportunity or madness? He liked to think he made wise decisions, calculated and smart. Yet the contents of the letter could change everything about their future and their family life in the tranquil beach city.

Was it a lie not to tell Beatrix at once? He thought not, except one could say it was a lie of omission. He mentally calculated what the effect caused by the letter would be on his family and sighed deeply. Beatrix had just established her practice as a psychologist focusing on returning veterans who suffered from mental damage as well as physical issues during and after the war. The effects of trauma on soldiers during the Great War was a field she’d studied at length, and now she was compiling data on the current mass of returning veterans, wounded inside and out from the Second World War.

Then there was the house. It still needed a multitude of improvements. Thomas thought, What houses built in the late 1800s didn’t? However, it was livable, warm in the winter, and cool in summertime, thanks to the oversized windows letting in the playful ocean breezes.

Then there were the friends, closer than family, they’d made in the city. Sam and Jo Conrad lived just blocks away. The couples and their kids dined together once and sometimes twice a week. They were already planning summer picnics on Arroyo Burro Beach, also known as Hendry’s Beach by locals, with its wide sandy shore and cliffs perfect for boys like the Conrads’ eldest, Sammy, to scurry up. Thomas imagined Birdy following the Conrad twins and Sammy, running through the waves, unaware of how idyllic their childhoods would be away from the recent nightmares of war, with loving parents and a safe community in which to grow, learn, and follow their dreams.

After the war, when he could safely cross the Atlantic and travel from England to Santa Barbara to see his lover, he vowed never to forget how fortunate he was. This letter? The knowledge of it felt like a fire in his pocket, as its contents would change every aspect of their lives.

Can I do that? Am I dedicated enough? Why am I even considering it? It’s utter madness, he thought.

Earlier that morning, he shook his head in dismay at the sheer contentment on his wife’s face as she stroked Birdy’s pitch-black hair. They’d been through so much together, individually and now as a family, after adopting Birdy. They were on a journey that made them both feel at peace. Once Beatrix read the letter and acknowledged its content, the future would flip, a dangerous somersault to their tranquil life. There would be no going back.

Whatever the result, we’ll never be the same. That frightened Thomas, and he thought, For now, I best wait. A few more hours of bliss before . . . He couldn’t even think the words—didn’t want to face what would be the outcome when he did.

Beatrix continued to watch the pair and imagined Thomas chatting with the baby in Cantonese as they ambled down serene Anapamu Street in the heart of the city and onward to State Street, the main shopping street. Truth be told, she’d had doubts about becoming a mother to the fostered little one and then again when they applied to adopt the infant. At thirty, she didn’t know if she’d have the patience of younger moms, but the moment Birdy arrived in their arms, Beatrix never looked back. Thomas, on the other hand, never doubted the decision. He jumped in, taking over the hourly feedings when Birdy was tiny, changing the nappies, walking the floor, sterilizing glass baby bottles, and suddenly becoming an expert on burping the baby. Because of Beatrix’s incredible memory, she’d cataloged and compiled every event in their lives since the child had come to them. Often, when she was alone or taking a quiet walk on the beach, she’d think of how they’d come together and what their future could possibly hold.

At least once a day, Thomas would remark, “I was born to be a father.” Thomas told this to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’d even taken a year’s leave of absence from the University of California researching clean energy and teaching so he could be there for Beatrix and Birdy. “I do not want to forgo a second of our daughter’s first year.” The year was closing in, which made him blink back tears more often than not when he talked about returning to the university.

Beatrix thought of how, since the day Birdy was placed in his arms, Thomas sang the same Chinese lullabies his grandmother crooned to him. After all this time, Beatrix could finally join him, still fuzzy on the translated words. Thomas assured her one song was Birdy’s favorite and performed it regularly at bedtime. “It’s all about how the moon protects little ones,” he’d told her. Then he winked and looked like a mischievous boy—a look she loved.

Beatrix remembered pointing out that the song sounded like a rude sea shanty that his grandmother also sang. She had learned that possibility from one of Thomas’ sisters when the entire Ling clan had visited for December and January to get away from the chill of London. More so, to admire and love Birdy Patterson-Ling. And they did.

Beatrix knew that Thomas regularly held deep scientific conversations, talking to the infant as if she were a colleague. Other times, Beatrix had seen him get teary-eyed watching their exquisite little girl just sleeping. He’d whisper to Beatrix, “She’s dreaming. Look at her fingers move. Look at that heart-shaped mouth. Bea, whatever do babies dream about?”

Truth be told, Beatrix did the same, humming French songs and reciting poems that her Parisian biological mother had taught her, also wondering what babies dreamed of.

Beatrix often found Thomas sitting near Birdy’s bassinet, holding her plump little foot or stroking it while the baby napped. He balanced a book of advanced physics or some scientific theory Beatrix barely grasped and stayed close to the tot, sheer bliss etched on his face.

Birdy’s arrival was unexpected and awe-inspiring. Thomas and Beatrix were the only couple on the county’s foster parent list who asked for a child of mixed race, so the county of Santa Barbara quickly granted them the opportunity to adopt Birdy. Hence, the plans to visit London and Thomas’s family were postponed, mandating immediately that the entire Ling clan came to Santa Barbara. Thomas and Beatrix put off visiting Paris to reunite with Beatrix’s biological father, General Charles de Gaulle. After discovering Beatrix was de Gaulle’s daughter, his family refused to speak with her, respond to her letters, or any attempts at reconciliation. Growing up, Beatrix had always thought that de Gaulle was an unofficial uncle, a kindly and generous man. Now, they were all, including her father, estranged from Beatrix.

Beatrix felt content, more than she’d ever experienced. That surprised and pleased her. She was just climbing the last of the front steps when the buzzing of the big, black Bakelite telephone in the front room of the Victorian home demanded her full attention. She swung open the screen door and dashed for the phone.

“Hello, Dr. Beatrix Patterson speaking,” she said.

Beatrix felt fear shoot through her, and her forehead wrinkled when she heard the caller sob. “What is it? Who is this?”

It certainly could not be the person she’d expected to call. She glanced at her watch. No, it was too early.

That cry was completely out of character for her first counseling client of the day, as the woman always called to confirm before an appointment. Gloria Rayne had been in the South Pacific as a surgeon throughout the war, bobbing around on a naval hospital ship, often being harassed and bombed by the enemy as she performed surgeries with limited resources. Beatrix met her by chance during a previous investigation of a local religious leader who died under suspicious circumstances and the murder of a federal agent connected with the local Indigenous people, the Chumash Indians. Gloria had enough courage to do her job with the utmost confidence and then the wherewithal to seek counseling when she returned to the home front.

To the city’s population, Santa Barbara’s esteemed coroner, Dr. Rayne, seemed like the poster model for a competent, modern woman. “I can hide my pain well,” she’d told Beatrix at their first counseling session, although the scars from Japanese bullets hitting her neck were visible still. Explaining the injury, she shook her head. “I was stupid, Beatrix. Went on deck. It had been a horrible night, filled with death, and unless I saw the sun that fateful morning, I knew I wouldn’t be fit for the next surgery. I was sun-deprived and naïve. I walked to the edge of the ship and turned to see—truly, I could see the pilot’s eyes on me—I saw the plane swoop down. He aimed at me, a woman.” Her palm covered the scream that was in her throat. “I was the only one injured that day as our boys shot that killer out of the sky. I found myself in surgery, but not as the doctor.”

While her external wartime wounds had left a mark, the psychological ones were deeper. Loud noises, barking dogs, and screaming children all sent her into a well-concealed panic. She’d come to Beatrix knowing that therapy could help with “combat fatigue.” Over the past five months, they had been working to desensitize her crippling fears. Fortunately, Gloria could now enter a shop or restaurant where there was chaos and deafening noises without breaking out in a drenching sweat.

The caller was not the coroner. The sob Beatrix heard sent a chill to the hair on the back of her neck.

“Beatrix, it’s Jo.” Jo’s voice quivered, and that never happened. “I’m sick with fear.”

***

Excerpt from The Conductor by Eva Shaw. Copyright 2025 by Eva Shaw. Reproduced with permission from Eva Shaw. All rights reserved.

 

The Conductor Author Eva Shaw

Eva Shaw always loved a good mystery and when she took a break from her successful ghostwriting career, it was a mysterious idea than turned into The Seer, book 1 in the Beatrix Patterson series. She reads, breaths, watches and thrives on mysteries and is often shocked when the characters do a better job plotting the book than she could. When not writing, she’s kept on her toes thanks to her silly and rambunctious Welsh terrier companion, Coco Rose.

Eva is an avid volunteer with her church, programs to support women and children, and as a clerk at the American Cancer Society’s resale shop. She loves gardening, reading, spending time with friends and family, traveling, shopping, painting and playing the banjolele. She and Coco live near the beach in Carlsbad, California.

Eva is a full-time, working writer with more than award-winning 100 books to her credit. In addition to the four Beatrix Patterson mysteries, she’s written: Ghostwriting for Fun & Profit, Writeriffic: Creativity Training for Writers, Write Your Book in 20 Minutes, Shovel It: Nature’s Health Plan, What to Do When a Loved One Dies, The Successful Writer’s Guide to Publishing Magazine Articles, Writing the Nonfiction Book, Insider’s Guide to San Diego, The Sun Never Sets, and more.

Eva’s work has been featured, reviewed and honored in USA Today, Los Angeles Times, Costco Connection, Publisher’s Weekly, Washington Post, the Wall Street Journal, and over 1000 published columns, articles and short stories. Motivational, entertaining and witty, Eva keynotes at writing conferences and appears on television, radio and in the media. “Shaw knows her onions and peels them well,” Columbia School of Journalism. Washington Post said her work is “illuminating.” From Publisher’s Weekly, “Shaw produces books that are practical and worthy of the self-help genre.”

Catch Up With Eva Shaw:

www.EvaShaw.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram – @evashawwriter
Facebook – @evashawwriter

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

ENTER FOR A CHANCE TO WIN:
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Eva Shaw. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
 

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Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor

The post The Conductor: A Beatrix Patterson Mystery appeared first on The Mystery of Writing.

The Weight of Loyalty: Historical Fiction

The Weight of Loyalty by Mike H. Mizrahi

Spotlight + Book & Author InformationDon’t miss any blog tour posts! Click the link here.

 

 

 

Historical Fiction

 

Date Published: May 25, 2025

 

“My long-term survival is doubtful under any scenario. Yet, I already
defied the impossible by escaping from a watery tomb and swimming to this very
spot. But luck is finite—it always peters out.”

As the island of Kefalonia falls under the harsh occupation of Italian
soldiers in 1941, British sailor Oliver Graham washes ashore, desperate to
evade capture. Rescued by the fierce and determined Natalía Giannatos,
he becomes entangled in a web of love, loyalty, and betrayal.

With her brother and fiancé lost to the conflict, Natalía is
driven by vengeance against the occupiers and a deepening bond with Oliver.
But when an Italian colonel fixates on her, she must navigate a dangerous game
of deception to protect her family and village. As Oliver struggles with his
hidden heritage and his growing feelings for Natalía, they are thrust
into the heart of the resistance, where every choice could lead to freedom or
devastation.

In a story that intertwines love and sacrifice against the backdrop of war,
The Weight of Loyalty explores the resilience of the human spirit and the
lengths one will go to for love. Will Oliver and Natalía’s
connection survive the trials of conflict, or will the brutal realities of war
tear them apart forever?

 

About the Author

 Mike H. Mizrahi and his wife, Karen, reside in Poulsbo, WA. He is a winner of
the (indie Reader Discovery Award and a Laramie Finalist in the Chanticleer
Book Awards. His other historical novels include The Unnamed Girl, Tattered
Coat, and the Great Chattanooga Bicycle Race.

 

Contact Links

Website

Instagram

Facebook

BookBuzz

 

Purchase Link

 

Amazon

 

Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor

The post The Weight of Loyalty: Historical Fiction appeared first on The Mystery of Writing.

Bazaar: A Techno Thriller

Bazaar by Miles Joyner

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Guest Post + Book & Author Info + a Giveaway!Don’t miss any blog tour posts! Click the link here.Read my Debut Author Interview with Miles by clicking the link here.Bazaar

A high-profile homicide of a former ambassador’s son in the nightlife district of the nation’s capital gets connected to an assassination market on the dark web. When political elites panic upon finding their names listed on the online dead pool, entrepreneurial siblings Karen and Yemi Uzunma see a business opportunity for their DC area-based executive protection firm, RAPTOR. Their first major client becomes the ex-diplomat himself, Chiedu Attah, but to guarantee his safety, they realize they are going to have to go to war in the streets with an inventive contract killer who will not stop attacking until Attah suffers the same fate as his son.

Praise for Bazaar:

“Bazaar is not just about action; it unfolds layer by layer, offering more than just a high-stakes thriller.”
~ Priya Bhasin, The Bibliophilic World

“Truly an interesting book with a perspective rarely seen in fiction”
~ Jeff Sexton, Head Librarian for Hardcover.app

“A fast-paced book that caught me off guard more than once.”
~ The Mystery Review Crew

“If you like complex, suspenseful, thrills, chills, hidden agenda type books, then I recommend giving Bazaar by Miles Joyner a try.”
~ Susan Blogs About Books

“Saying that I was awestruck by Miles Joyner’s character development and knowledge of subject matter would be an understatement. I highly enjoyed this novel.”
~ J.M. Clark, Author of Palace Program series of novels

Book Details:

Genre: Technothriller
Published by: World Castle Publishing
Publication Date: March 24, 2025
Number of Pages: 355
ISBN: 9798305201901 (HC) 9798891263369 (PB)

To purchase your copy of Bazaar click any of the following links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Kobo | Google Play (Audio) | Goodreads | SmashwordsGuest Post from Bazaar Author Miles Joyner

When U.S. Taxpayers funded research into a potential ‘assassination market’ 

Within the past decade, there have been multiple (and successful) prediction markets focused on betting on the potential outcomes of world events. These include the new Zealand/D.C. based PredictIt as well Polymarket and Kalshi, both founded in New York City. But over a decade before of PredictIt’s beginnings, there was another company called NetExchange who was developing a futures exchange of its own with the funding for the research coming from one other than the Pentagon. 

The proposed Policy Analysis Market (PAM) was a prediction market that would future contract trading based on political and economic developments in the Middle East. There were plans to have traders predict military activity, political instability, and economic growth in places like Libya, Saudi Arabia, or Israel. 

So what happened to it? The Department of Defense pulled the plug after U.S. senators called it a market for assassination and terrorism at a press conference. NetExchange, had promised to relaunch the program but would avoid events involving violence in the securities. George Mason University economist Robin Hanson, who was involved with the creation of PAM, wrote that they were never going to let people bet on terrorist attacks. 

The controversy surrounding PAM and FutureMAP in the early 2000s was a big inspiration to the fictional assassination market depicted in my debut novel, Bazaar. Watching a prediction market generate panic from politicians before its actual existence made me wonder what would happen if a future exchange with nefarious means actually existed, shielded by the anonymity of cryptocurrency and the dark web? 

Bazaar is available now on all platforms where books are sold. 

Bazaar Author Miles Joyner

 

A lifelong fiction writer, Miles turned to penning novels after nearly a decade of holding various producer/editor roles in the D.C. area media industry.

He still pursues filmmaking in between books and finds that writing in the thriller genre only enhances that passion even more.

Miles is an active member of International Thriller Writers where his novel, Bazaar, was selected for ITW’s Debut Authors Program. He also attends monthly meetings for Novels in Progress DC.

 

To learn more about Miles, click on any of the following links: www.TheBazaarVerse.com, Amazon Author Profile, Goodreads, Instagram – @maroonguerilla, X – @maroonguerilla, Facebook – @joynermh & YouTube – @mjoyner

Visit All the Stops on the Tour!

05/27 Books,Ramblings, and Tea BAZAAR Showcase

05/28 CountryMamas With Kids BAZAAR Review

05/31 Jodys Bookish HavenBAZAAR Showcase

06/02Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books! BAZAAR Guest post

06/03leannebookstagram BAZAAR Review

06/06 CMash ReadsBAZAAR Showcase

06/07 Book Reviews From an Avid Reader BAZAAR Review

06/10Because I said so BAZAAR Review

06/13 Hott Books BAZAAR Review

06/16nessasbookreviews BAZAAR Review

06/17 The Mystery of Writing BAZAAR Guest post

06/18 Guatemala Paula Loves to Read BAZAAR Review

06/19 The Book Connection BAZAAR First chapter review

Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor

The post Bazaar: A Techno Thriller appeared first on The Mystery of Writing.

Len Buonfiglio Caribbean Mysteries

Len Buonfiglio Caribbean Mysteries: Freedom Drop and Calypso Blue  by Brian Silverman

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Guest Post + Book & Author Info + An Excerpt + A Giveaway!
 
Don’t miss any blog tour posts! Click the link here.

 

Len Buonfiglio Caribbean Mysteries
FREEDOM DROP & CALYPSO BLUE
 






FREEDOM DROP

 

A Len Buonfiglio/St. Pierre Caribbean Mystery

Len Buonfiglio is a former New York bar owner and family man. He has the perfect life until he yearns for more—for something he knows will destroy everything he had, but something he can’t resist. He makes his choice and that, along with a traumatic event, shatters his world. His life and what he had now broken, his only choice is to leave the city and his family. His flight takes him to the remote Caribbean island of St. Pierre where he opens a sports bar that he runs with his friend and partner, a young local islander named Tubby Levett.

In Freedom Drop, a genial tour guide, Rawle “Big Tree” Johns is a suspect in an American woman’s fall from a cliff and held in custody. John’s mother enlists Buonfiglio to help free her son and to prove that he had nothing to do with the woman’s death. Conflicted by the need to spend time with his sixteen-year-old daughter who he hasn’t seen in two years, Mr. Len as he’s known on the island, reluctantly agrees to help.

Buonfiglio’s search for the truth reveals that there are other, much more powerful forces involved in the woman’s death that threaten both his life and his family. In the course of his investigation, he confronts a high-ranking island politician, the local superintendent of police, the dead girl’s mother, and, ultimately, a shady yet powerful outsider investor. Was the girl’s death an accident or did Johns cause that accident? Or was she murdered? The lack of clarity—the mystery of what really happened to the girl—he realizes, reflects the enigma that is St. Pierre. It’s a riddle that, despite living on the island for several years, he still cannot solve.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery

Published by: April 7, 2025 by Down & Out Books

Read an excerpt from FREEDOM DROP: FREEDOM DROP





To purchase your copy of Freedom Drop click either link: Amazon | Goodreads

CALYPSO BLUE

A Len Buonfiglio/St. Pierre Caribbean Mystery

In Calypso Blue, Brian Silverman crafts a gripping tale of mystery, revenge, and redemption set against the backdrop of New York and the Caribbean. The novel follows John Saint John, a man torn between his faith, past, and responsibilities as a father, as he grapples with a life-altering decision driven by a desire for justice. As his story unfolds in the shadow of a significant historical event, another narrative emerges—one centered on Leonard Buonfiglio, an American expatriate running a bar on the island of St. Pierre. When a legendary calypso singer, Lord Ram, dies under suspicious circumstances, Leonard is reluctantly pulled into an investigation at the behest of the island’s police superintendent.

Blending elements of crime, culture, and personal reckoning, Calypso Blue explores themes of loss, second chances, and the ghosts of the past that refuse to be forgotten. With vivid storytelling and rich atmospheric detail, Silverman transports readers into a world where music, memory, and mystery intertwine.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: June 30, 2025 by Down & Out Books

Read an excerpt from CALYPSO BLUE: CALYPSO BLUE

To purchase a copy of Calypso Blue click either link: Amazon | Goodreads

 

Praise for FREEDOM DROP:

“An impressive debut…Silverman capably captures the feel of his setting en route to a satisfying conclusion. A sequel is warranted.”
~ Publishers Weekly

“Silverman had me at the Caribbean setting, and held me with his fully human characters—of both good and bad natures—and their situation.”
~ SJ Rozan, Edgar-winning author of The Murder of Mr. Ma

“A mystery steeped in authentic Caribbean atmosphere. Silverman knows his territory, as does his hero, an ex-Marine-turned-sleuth who discovers that, even in paradise, things aren’t always what they seem.”
~ Wallace Stroby, author of Heaven’s a Lie and Some Die Nameless

“A buddy book, a whodunit, and a family drama, Freedom Drop is mystery magic.”
~ Reed Farrel Coleman, author of Sleepless City

“Brian Silverman’s Freedom Drop is an exciting and welcome new addition to the crime writing pantheon.”
~ S.A. Cosby, author of Razorblade Tears and All the Sinners Bleed

Guest Post from Author Brian Silverman

My road to writing the Len Buonfiglio/Caribbean mysteries was not a direct one. Before the two novels in the series, Freedom Drop and Calypso Blue were born, the germ of the idea was in a short story I wrote for an online literary journal more than a decade earlier. It integrated my knowledge of the Caribbean as a travel and food writer, where the islands were my turf. In that story I first created the fictional island of St. Pierre and the lead character Len Buonfiglio.

But the story was not a mystery…well maybe a mystery of the heart. Many years passed after that story as I was working primarily as a travel writer—until the work dried up due to the advent of internet sites and reader reviews that provided free content. All the publications I once worked for were gone.

At the urging of my wife who was used to me devouring the works of Robert Parker, Elmore Leonard, Chester Himes, Charles Willeford, John D. Macdonald, along with so many other great crime writers, and knowing my non-fiction style, she believed I could incorporate that into fiction and in particular, mysteries. I had no more excuses. If not now, when? But I wasn’t ready to take on the long term commitment of writing a novel. Instead, I thought to start with short stories. I liked the characters and setting I created in that literary short story and decided to expand on them. I wanted to flesh them out in the stories to better familiarize myself with the characters and setting I was creating.

The first mystery short story I wrote was titled “Breadfruit.” The story featured an ex-New Yorker and bar owner, Len Buonfiglio who confronts an enterprising villain who used hollowed-out breadfruit, that larger than a softball starchy vegetable that was made famous in the movie and book, Mutiny on the Bounty, to smuggle drugs into the island of St. Pierre. The story was rejected at first by the top mystery magazines but was later accepted by a new stylish, both literary and design-wise journal called “Mystery Tribune.” A few months after the story was published, I got word that “Breadfruit” had been chosen to be included in Otto Penzler’s Best American Mystery Stories of 2018, edited by Louise Penny. 

The success of “Breadfruit” encouraged me to continue with the characters and setting. Soon after, I wrote another Len Buonfiglio story titled “Scotch Bonnet.” This one was published by Down and Out Magazine and though it wasn’t selected as a main story in the Best American Mystery Stories of 2019, it was honored in the “notable stories of the year” section of that book. Other stories set in St. Pierre and published by Mystery Tribune appeared soon after, including one that was a Derringer finalist, and then another, “Land of Promise,” which tells Len’s back story—what happened to him that had him desert New York and start a new life in St. Pierre—was selected by Steph Cha, the new editor of the Best American Mystery and Suspense Stories series, to be included in their inaugural book, published in 2021, and edited by Alafair Burke.

I was now comfortable with the world I had created in the short stories—the characters—the island—enough to take them to the next level—to devote at least a year creating and crafting a novel. The result was Freedom Drop, which, in 2021, Mystery Tribune agreed to publish as the first novel under their imprint. Despite very good reviews from both readers and trade publications, Freedom Drop never got any traction. Both the publisher and I were novices in how to successfully promote a book in a very crowded field.  Now, five years later, Freedom Drop, I’m happy to say, has been reissued by Down and Out Books who will also publish the second Len Buonfiglio/Caribbean Mystery, Calypso Blue in late June.

  

Brian Silverman

Brian Silverman’s writing career has spanned over 30 years. He has written about travel, food, and sports for publications including the New York Times, Saveur, Caribbean Travel and Life, Islands, the New Yorker, New York, and others. From 2004 through 2013, he was the author of the annual Frommer’s New York City guidebook series. He co-authored the acclaimed Twentieth Century Treasury of Sports with his father, Al Silverman.

His short fiction has appeared in numerous publications, including Mystery Tribune, Down and Out Magazine, and Mystery Weekly. His stories have been selected to appear in The Best American Mystery Stories in 2018 and 2019, and The Best American Mystery and Suspense Stories 2021. His other short fiction has appeared in publications such as Down and Out Magazine, Mystery Magazine, Dark Waters, and Vautrin. Freedom Drop is his first published novel. He lives in Harlem, New York, with his wife, Heather, and his sons, Louis and Russell.

Catch Up With Brian Silverman:

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Goodreads
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X – @BSsilverman

 

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Fleet Landing: A New Thriller

Fleet Landing by Wendy Gee

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Fleet Landing

ATF Special Agent Cooper “Coop” Bellamy alienates his 11-year-old daughter with inflexibility. When the Charleston fire chief asks him to investigate a baffling series of devastating fires plaguing her city, he leaps at the opportunity to rekindle the estranged relationship with his kid and nab the serial arsonist. But the firebug’s insatiable appetite for destruction turns deadly pulling him further from his family.

Sydney Quinn, Charleston’s top TV reporter, champions the retrial of a man she believes was wrongly convicted of another deadly arson. When she links that decades-old fire with a current spate of arsons, she receives dangerous taunts from the mysterious Falcon who’d rather she left the maze of deceit undisturbed.

Sydney’s flare for the controversial contends with Coop’s unyielding ‘rules save lives’ philosophy as they team up to unmask the mastermind behind the trail of scorched houses and tattered lives. Coop’s mettle will be further tested when his daughter is kidnapped by the person his suspects of having set the fires.

If he has any chance of finding her, he must put his career and reputation on the line while confronting a darkness in his own past. Both Sydney and Coop will make unlikely allies, without knowing they’ve crossed paths with a monster.

To purchase Fleet Landing click any of the following links: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, and Bookshop. 

Read an excerpt of Fleet Landing:

Fleet Landing

Chapter 4 excerpt

Wendy Gee

 

Hot, hungry flames gobbled aged lumber despite dozens of Charleston’s Bravest conducting a furious full-court press to contain the wind-whipped inferno’s assault on beleaguered Fleet Landing.

Attack lines from first-due units snaked into multiple front and rear doors from hydrants blocks away. Second-due units mounted defensive efforts while crews from additional pumpers kicked in front doors and shouted for occupants to escape the blaze.

Special Agent Cooper “Coop” Bellamy nosed his Jeep behind two ladder trucks straddling Kinkaid Street and instinctively switched into arson investigator mode—sizing up conditions, assessing hazards, and estimating the debris field. To his horror, the tightly packed, century-old, wooden houses lining the narrow block formed a perfect crucible.

Coop ignored the blur of sirens and crush of hoses.

He sprinted over to a burgundy truck parked halfway down the curb and located a familiar battalion chief. “Hot damn, Paul. Glad you’re the one in charge of this mess.” 

The ruddy-faced firefighter glanced between the conflagration, Coop, and a dry-erase board in rapid succession. “Chief Sinclair said she put the bite on ATF. Never imagined they’d send a hotshot like you.”

“The chief is an old friend.” The invitation also offered Coop an opportunity to address mounting problems with his estranged eleven-year-old daughter, who lived with his ex-wife in nearby I’On. Though, reconciliation stretched his imagination, since Haley wouldn’t even speak to him.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Paul asked.

“I was visiting the King Street station when the callout came. A probie gave me a radio and directions. Said if I got lost, I should follow the smoke.” Coop pointed toward the sky where the fire’s murky discharge had coalesced into a thick black stain.

Paul signaled his assistant and tapped a vacant space on the tactical Assignment and Accountability board.

The assistant responded by shouting into his radio. “Dispatch, request all available units. And call the off-duty guys. At least twenty structures fully engulfed.”

Paul straightened. “Damn probie didn’t know you used to be a helluva firefighter back in the day. Before you crossed to the dark side.”

Coop clutched his chest. “Back in the day. Dark side.”

Radios echoed as an emergency services operator dispatched more apparatuses to the scene. “Ladder 101, Battalion 106, Engines 118, 202, 219, 303. Respond to Kinkaid fireground. Be advised, heavy traffic on the bridges.”

“Enough about me,” Coop said. “You have a real brouhaha on your hands. I don’t usually arrive until the ashes are cold, but I’m still a helluva firefighter. What can I do?”

“Have the police seal the street. Expand the perimeter. And suit up.”

“I’m on it.” Coop flagged a rangy apple-cheeked cop, placed a hand on the guy’s shoulder, then flashed the badge he’d tugged from his pocket. “Back these spectators away. Move the cars out of the street and off supply lines. Fire command needs a clean five-block perimeter to maneuver. And place extra cruisers on bridge ramps to clear a path for trucks coming from East Cooper and West Ashley.”

The young cop lifted a defiant chin. “I don’t work for you.”

Coop acknowledged the longstanding cop-firefighter rivalry with the thread of a smile. “Son, now isn’t a good time to be a jackass. Besides, interfering with a firefighter in the performance of his duty is a felony.”

“Roger.” The cop grabbed his radio.

Coop ditched the smile. In fact, now seemed like a really bad time for any funny business because this fire broke the mold. The inexhaustible Fleet Landing arsonist had tossed out his playbook with a brazen daylight number.

 Author of Fleet Landing Wendy Gee

After a successful career in the U.S. Navy, Wendy Gee now channels her boundless energy into community volunteering, leaving no stone unturned—or unpainted—at the Charleston Fire Department, Friends of the Lewes Public Library Board of Directors, and Sussex County Habitat for Humanity.

A proud graduate of the University of Michigan, University of Arizona, Naval War College, and Old Dominion University, Wendy combines her academic prowess and life experiences into her writing.

Her work has been shortlisted with Killer Nashville and the Writer’s League of Texas. And as a lifetime member of Sisters in Crime, Wendy’s passion for the mystery genre is no secret—though she might leave a few clues lying around just for fun. 

 

Learn more about Wendy by visiting her website. 

Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor

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Elegance and Evil: A Mystery

Elegance and Evil, a Cleo Cooper Mystery by DK Coutant [image error]

 
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Elegance and Evil


A Cleo Cooper Mystery

Cleo Cooper left ocean-dipping weekends as a psychology professor in Hawaii to sample life in the high desert of Santa Fe for her sabbatical. With her romantic relationship on the rocks in Hawaii, Cleo falls for Luc, a charming international expert in her field and is tempted to make the change permanent. She enjoys the people, the work, and the sparkling conversations, even if they come with a bite. But, when a wealthy backer of her project is killed, the snarky scientists, artists, and a Saudi ex-pat, who Cleo thought were her new friends, are now at the top of the suspect list. And with a killer on the loose, Cleo finds her life, and her love, in danger.

Praise for Elegance and Evil:

“DK Coutant’s ELEGANCE AND EVIL is a tightly written, fast-paced read that plunges us into the backdrop of a Santa Fe community, so beautifully described, it becomes one of the characters. Celo Cooper is a smart and savvy amateur sleuth who reads people as thoroughly as the research papers she reviews in her world of academia, making her an A-plus crime solver. A cast of quirky characters adds to the book’s charm and had me wondering who to trust until the surprise ending. A big thumbs up!”
~ Cindy Goyette, PSWA award winner and LEFTY finalist author of OBEY ALL LAWS and EARLY TERMINATION of the Probation Case Files Mystery Series.

“Elegance and Evil is crisp, engaging, and subtly atmospheric, blending elements of classic mystery with a modern, conversational tone. DK Coutant crafts a narrative that is both immersive and accessible, using a first-person perspective to draw readers into Cleo’s thoughts and observations.”
~ Morgan Hatch, author of Gone To Ground

“Readers will enjoy the balance between a spicy romance and cunning mystery in Elegance and Evil by DK Coutant.”
~ Joy Ann Ribar, author of The Bay Browning Mysteries and Deep Lakes Cozy Mysteries

“Cleo Cooper is a fascinating character in this taut, twisty mystery that will delight readers. Hopefully, author DK Coutant brings her back very soon.”
~ R.G. Belsky, author of the Clare Carlson mystery series

“When psychologist Cleo Cooper takes a temporary assignment in Santa Fe, volcanic eruptions threaten her Hawaiian home, and her relationship with her boyfriend in Hawaii falls apart. A new love interest emerges, and Cleo soon finds herself at the center of a murder investigation that could change everything. Set against the enchanting backdrop of Santa Fe and filled with quirky, intelligent characters, Elegance and Evil is an entertaining blend of mystery, romance, and suspense.”
~ Stacy Wilder, author of the Liz Adams Mystery series

Book Details:

Genre: Traditional Mystery, Amateur Sleuth
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: June 4, 2025
Number of Pages: 288
ISBN: 978-1-5092-6136-9
Series: Cleo Cooper Mysteries, Book 2

To purchase your copy of Elegance and Evil click any of the following links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | The Wild Rose Press

Read an excerpt of Elegance and Evil:

Chapter 1
New in Town

“Are you ready for this, Cleo?” Luc asked.

“Sure.” Beginnings were intimidating. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Luc pulled into the driveway of a traditional adobe house, typical of what I had seen here in Santa Fe, NM. A stocky man of medium-height, with hair pulled back in a small man-bun exited and locked the front door.

“Jon can be a bit insufferable sometimes, but his heart is usually in the right place,” Luc said. Jon was one of Luc’s closest friends, and a scientist who worked at a federal lab nearby. Luc was giving him a ride to the dinner party we were attending.

Jon swung open the back door of Luc’s car. “This should be fun,” he said sliding into the backseat.

I turned and smiled at him from the front passenger seat. “Hi Jon, it’s nice to meet you. Luc has told me a lot about you. I’m Cleo—”

“Cleo Cooper, I know. I’ve heard about you too. Anyway. Luc, did you get my email about the new grant I was awarded?” And Jon rattled on about the mega-grant he’d received for his latest research project.

Oka-a-a-a-y.

Luc pulled away from the curb.

“This grant will cement my spot at the top of the food chain at the lab. The Defense Department is really interested in my ideas on further miniaturization of key components,” Jon said.

“That sounds interesting. What kind of components? And how small do you think you can shrink them?” I asked.

Jon’s gaze shifted to me. “You’re just a psychologist, right?”

“Yes.” But I suspected where this was going.

“Were your parents scientists?”

“No.” My parents ran a diner.

“Then it is a waste of my time to try and explain atomic physics to you. Luc’s parents at least taught him enough over the dinner table that he can understand the basics of my research. But a psych professor from a small university in the middle of nowhere—”

“Hey.” Luc interrupted. “Cleo is a scientist, a social scientist. And she has conducted some solid studies. And I’m a psychologist too. So no looking down your nose at us because we don’t get defense department grants. And, if you’re going to bring up my parents… they claim that any good scientists should be able to explain their work to someone outside the field.”

“And my university isn’t in the middle of nowhere. It’s in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a gateway between East and West.” I was on sabbatical from my university on the Big Island of Hawaii, and I wasn’t going to let anybody talk smack about my island. Maybe coming to Santa Fe, NM to work with Luc for six months wasn’t such a great idea.

Jon sighed. “Whatever. I think I’d rather wait until we get to the party to explain my grant so I can see the look on Matias’s face when he realizes I’ll have the largest grant at the lab. He won’t be able to get rid of me now. And he’ll have to take me seriously.”

We reached downtown Santa Fe and Luc pulled into a parking garage. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. I was usually comfortable in new situations. But Jon’s obnoxious condescension had me feeling jittery. On our short ride from Jon’s house to the garage, his bombastic wit had overwhelmed me.

I’d left a secure, comfortable career as a psychology professor, and a secure, mostly uncomfortable boyfriend, to create a new life. I arrived a week ago, and this dinner party would be my first opportunity to meet people. A lot of movers and shakers were expected, including Luc. I contemplated the man strolling beside me, his striking bone structure and tousled black hair. He was influential in town, and his Institute for the Study of International Relations lined up perfectly with my research.

Luc, Jon, and I traversed a crooked sidewalk that undulated over roots of old Siberian elms. My butterflies flittered again, and I hoped the walk from the parking garage to our hostess’s home on the other side of the Plaza would rein in my nerves. I glanced at Luc. He’d invited me here to work on his project during my sabbatical. I wanted to keep the relationship professional, but his dark, smoldering eyes, broad shoulders, and kindness made my heart beat faster.

Luc must have noticed. “We’re almost there Cleo, not much farther.”

Luc and Jon would know everyone at the party. Again with those damn butterflies. Luc smiled at me as we approached a crosswalk. Jon stepped off the curb ahead of us as a dark grey Lexus turned on to the street we were crossing and sped up.

“Watch out!” I grabbed Luc’s arm to hold him back from the crosswalk. I winced, expecting the car to hit Jon who was already in the street but managed to maneuver out of the car’s path.

“What the… that driver only missed you by inches.” My hands shook from the adrenaline surge. The Lexus ran through a red light as it raced away. “Is someone out to get you, Jon?” I bit my lip as my heart thumped and my mind caught up with the fact I’d almost witnessed someone’s death.

“Maybe.” Jon grinned. The 40-ish nuclear physicist bounded forward to the other sidewalk. His legs bounced with a child-like spring. As he stepped out of the street he threw his head back and let loose a loud “Ha.”

“I guess a brush with death has made him a little giddy,” I said.

“Either that or Jon has been taste-testing his marijuana cookie recipe again.” We took the last steps out of the road. “It was probably somebody texting while driving. You should have looked before you stepped into the crosswalk, Jon,” Luc said. “But, if Cleo’s right, and that driver was trying to run you down, the tough call is narrowing who does not want to knock you off.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself. “How can you guys joke? It scared me to death and I’m not the one who almost died.”

“Who’s joking?” Jon asked with a laugh. But his laugh wobbled. He blinked rapidly. “Luc’s probably right. It was somebody texting, or drinking. But both Matias and Kyle hate my guts, could be either one of them. What do you think, Luc?”

“A tough call. You annoy so many people.” Luc smiled fondly.

We resumed ambling down the sidewalk. The shaking in my hands subsided. I glanced up the street, but the Lexus didn’t reappear. Maybe it was my imagination and the car didn’t aim for Jon.

“Is Kyle still living with Ginger?” Luc asked.

“Surprisingly, yes. I thought she would have tossed him out by now. He’ll be there tonight, as well as Matias, to hear my big grant news. Jon’s grin returned. “This should be fun.”

Luc let out a low whistle, nudging me gently with his elbow. “Better keep your head down, Cleo. Sparks could fly.”

Great. I had hoped to meet some nice people and make some connections, so I wouldn’t depend on Luc to get acclimated. Is everybody going to be at each other’s throats?

“Here we are.” Luc touched my elbow gently with his right hand while extending his left to open a wooden gate elaborately carved with a detailed mural of a Mexican village.

I looked beyond to the creamy pumpkin-colored pueblo structure. Old wood broke the adobe into sizable chunks, so while the house was large, it didn’t devour a guest. Well-trained roses and wisteria wound up far above my head around high frames of mesquite wood which offered sweet-smelling shade. The front door was constructed from some exotic wood, with dramatic zebra stripes punctuated by a natural sunburst pattern in the grain. Bespoke, oversized windows appeared to curve with the walls. I’d never been in a house of such obvious wealth. My confidence faltered.

I looked at my companions.

“You first, my dear.” Jon bowed with a dramatic flourish. “I want someone to hide behind if people start throwing things.”

***

Excerpt from Elegance and Evil by DK Coutant. Copyright 2025 by DK Coutant. Reproduced with permission from DK Coutant. All rights reserved.

Author of Elegance and Evil DK Coutant

DK Coutant graduated from Davidson College with a Psychology degree and initially applied her behavioral training to animals at Sea World, working with dolphins and whales.

After a couple of years, she realized that scrubbing fish buckets might get old, and went back to Graduate school to earn a Ph.D. in Psychology, specializing in Cross-Cultural Issues.

She began her academic career in Maine. A few years later, she made the jump to Hawaii and worked at the University of Hawaii at Hilo, rising to Department Chair of the Psychology Department.

After many happy years in Hawaii, her love for travel led her to make the move out of academics. She accepted positions as a professional geopolitical forecaster with GJ Inc. and Rand Forecasting Initiative. She splits her time between Olympia, WA, Santa Fe, NM, and France, with her husband and an Old English Sheepdog, Beasley. Evil Alice and Borzoi was released by the Wild Rose Press in 2023. Elegance and Evil is the second in the Cleo Cooper Mysteries.

Learn more about DK by clicking any of the following links: www.DKCoutant.com Amazon Author Profilelor.sh – @dkcoutant
BookBub – @dkcoutant Instagram – @dkcanddog X – @dk_coutant Facebook – DK Coutant

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Broken Sentinel: A Dystopian Romance

Broken Sentinel by Alicia LeFleur

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Splinter Faction, Book 1

She was engineered to be perfect. Perfect for the system she’s about to break.

Elite Sentinel Zara Thorne has dedicated her life to protecting Unity from Splinter contamination in a world ravaged by climate change. But when her body begins developing impossible abilities, she discovers the terrifying truth: she carries the very modifications she was trained to eliminate.

Forced to flee with her partner Trent Vanguard, the man she’s secretly desired for years, Zara escapes into the wasteland. But safety comes with betrayal when Trent reveals he’s known her true nature all along—their entire partnership was built on lies.

Seeking refuge among those she once hunted, Zara meets Vex—a fiercely modified Splinter who embodies everything Unity taught her to despise. Everything Trent isn’t. Wild. Untamed. Dangerously alluring.

As her modifications accelerate and Unity closes in, Zara is caught between two men who represent opposing futures. One who protected her while deceiving her. One who challenges everything she’s ever believed.

The wasteland isn’t the only thing that’s toxic. So are secrets. And Zara’s might change humanity’s future forever.

Purchase your copy of Broken Sentinel at: AmazonAbout the Author

Hi! I’m Alicia LeFleur. I’ve been writing for most of my life, though I’ve recently decided to lean into the romance genre. I believe in the magic of happily ever afters and think they’re crucial in a time like this when people need more light and hope in their lives. I also believe that romance is healing, not only for the reader but for the writer as well. I hope my stories will make you swoon while bringing you steamy entertainment in all
sorts of genres.

 

 

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Diamond in the Ruff: A Cozy Mystery

Diamond in the Ruff,  Wiggle Butt Manor Mystery Series by Cindy Goyette [image error]

 
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Diamond in the Ruff

WIGGLE BUTT MANOR MYSTERY SERIES

Charlie Calderbank always dreamed of being a cop, but a medical issue forces her out of the academy and to rethink her future. When Charlie’s Aunt Jo-Jo suffers injuries in a car accident, she offers to help at her aunt’s pet hotel, Wiggle Butt Manor, in the charming Pacific Northwest island town of Orca Cove.

With her Cocker Spaniel Noah at her side, she settles into life on the island and at the Manor. When the owner of Maya, the precocious mutt, is murdered, Jo-Jo becomes a suspect, forcing Charlie to find the real killer before they put her aunt away for good. While she rushes to hide clues that point to her aunt, she tries to wrangle Maya into control. But she, too, seems eager to solve the case and doesn’t follow the rules. Charlie’s quest leads her to uncover plenty of the small town’s secrets, and to fall for the hot local cop trying to find the killer. It also puts her on the radar of the murderer who will do anything to protect their secret, including making Charlie the next victim.

Praise for Diamond In The Ruff:

“Diamond in the Ruff brims with intrigue and heart. The engaging heroine, Charlie, will rivet you to her story as she navigates a deadly maze of old and new secrets to uncover a murderer, while Maya and Noah, the canine players, will capture your heart as you race to the novel’s suspenseful ending.”
~ Angela M. Sanders, bestselling author of the Witch Way Librarian mysteries

“A tightly-crafted cozy featuring a memorable cast of characters—and canines!”
~ Dawn Ius, Author of Anne & Henry, Overdrive and Lizzie

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: May 2025
Number of Pages: 320
Series: Wiggle Butt Manor Mystery Series, book 1

To purchase your copy of Diamond in the Ruff, click any of the following links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt of Diamond in the Ruff:

“I’m suspicious of people who don’t like dogs, but I trust a dog when it doesn’t like a person”
Bill Murray

The massive bridge from mainland Washington to the village of Orca Cove lay before me like the highway to hell. Not that Orca Cove’s a bad place. Quite the contrary. It’s just that heights scared the bejesus out of me—and it was going to take every bit of courage I could muster to cross it.

The sky was hazy as the sun threatened to burn off oppressive dark gray clouds. Spikes at the top of the bridge disappeared into the fast-moving fog. The looming structure reminded me of green metal toothpicks, supporting a wobbly death trap in the sky. It took my breath away and not in a good way.

Come on, Charlie. Put on your big girl pants and suck it up.

 

I tried to concentrate on the quaint town on the other side and the refuge it would provide. But all I could think of as I navigated my rental car across the bridge was that the Pacific Northwest was long overdue for an earthquake. Wouldn’t it be my luck to be on this bridge when it happened? I imagined I would feel suspended in the air forever during the plunge, but death would come quickly as the ice-cold water below swallowed us whole.

“I know,” I said, glancing down at my buff Cocker Spaniel, Noah, fast asleep on the seat beside me. “Stop being so dramatic.” But as I white-knuckled our way across the bridge, Noah was oblivious. He continued to sleep off the meds I’d given him to make the flight from New Jersey more tolerable. His snore reminded me of what an overweight lumberjack might sound like after a few too many beers. Hard to believe such a rattling noise came out of a twenty-two-pound fur ball, so adorable people often mistook him for Lady from Lady and the Tramp. A thorn in my side, but I was prone to overreacting when it came to my boy.

Four miles seemed a long time to contemplate one’s death. Cars behind me honked as I drove just under the speed limit, my eyes intent on the few feet of road in front of me. I tried to stifle the hysteria that rose in my chest and choked me.

Deep breaths, Charlie.

I did my best to ignore the impatient drivers behind us. Fate threw in a pack of serious bicyclists, making the bridge even more narrow. I focused on the toned calves pumping the petals on the bike of the woman in front of me, while wishing there was another way onto the island. But my unemployed status and dwindling bank account didn’t allow for luxuries like a private boat or seaplane.

Exiting the bridge, I let out a long breath. “That was stressful,” I said to Noah.

More snoring. Well, it was terrifying for me.

The sleepy town always made me feel like I’d entered a time warp and had surfaced in the 1950s. Quaint buildings, with brightly painted mismatched architecture for each mom-and-pop shop, boutique, and restaurant lined the streets. Because orcas frequented the area and drew many tourists, everything had a nautical theme, and murals of killer whales and other sea life decorated the buildings. Despite its appeal, the town remained a best-kept secret, and even during the height of the season, crowds were few and far between.

Couples walked hand-in-hand down sidewalks, others pushed strollers, and many had a canine friend on a leash. I knew from previous visits that many of the residents were retired, and there was a high population of artists on the island.

Back on solid ground and with this storybook town before me, calm released like water from a dam, washing my trepidation out to sea.

Not wanting to visit my aunt empty handed, I stopped at the town bakery and bought two giant molasses cookies, my aunt’s favorite.

As I started up the hill to Aunt Jo-Jo’s house, I felt excited at the prospect of seeing her again. She was not only my favorite relative, but she’d also been my savior growing up when my mom went off the deep end—which was more often than I’d like to admit. I spent snippets of my childhood on this island and some of my best memories were of my time here. But I’d been remiss, having not visited her since my uncle passed away about five years ago. Life had gotten in the way. First, there was college and then the life-changing decision I’d made to leave my tedious corporate job for the police academy. Like most people my age, I was perpetually broke, and travel wasn’t in the cards.

But my aunt seemed to understand, and we kept in touch through email and weekly phone calls. She was still my sounding board when dealing with my mom’s antics. Those calls kept us close, but there was nothing like face-to-face time.

Aunt Jo-Jo’s Craftsman house perched on the hillside like a proud bird overlooking its kingdom. From it, she had a fantastic view of the water and the, gulp, bridge. The house was painted royal blue with white shutters. Colorful gardens surrounded the property, and a small dog park flanked the west side of the house. A banner reading Future Home of Orca Cove’s First Agility Course stretched across the fence. A handful of dogs frolicked on lush grass while owners sat on benches in animated conversation.

A more modern structure sat behind the home, painted the same shade of blue. A hotel for dogs–Wiggle Butt Manor.

Ten individual rooms were decorated with children’s furniture, on which the four-legged guests slept. Each room had a theme. There was a One Hundred, and One Dalmatians suite, a Lassie room, and one had French Bulldogs and a Paris theme.

I parked in the gravel driveway behind a mud-splattered Jeep Cherokee with an I love Golden Retrievers bumper sticker peeking out from beneath the dirt.

Rousing Noah with a quick belly rub, I got out of the car and stretched. The chill of the late September air reminded me that fall was around the corner. “Come on, Boo.” I slapped my thigh.

Noah’s flowing ears swayed as he jumped to the ground. He followed me like a shadow as I walked up to the pet hotel and rapped on the door. When no one answered, I opened it and stuck my head inside. “Hello?”

Barking erupted from the back room when we entered. The lobby held a desk and two overstuffed chairs, along with a giant bucketful of dog toys. A collage of photos taken of guests over the years hung on the wall. Noah gave me a look that said: what the heck, I thought I was the only one.

“You’ve led a sheltered life,” I said. “You’re not one of a kind.”

Noah was not a “dog person,” and he couldn’t care less about the canines eager to greet him. He glanced toward the barking dogs, yawned, and then leaped onto a chair and curled into a compact ball. I opened the door that led to the pet rooms and made my way down the hall. A wall of guest suites was to my left. Dogs of all sizes and colors stuck their noses out of low, barred windows to greet me. I bent down and said hello to each of them. I didn’t want to be rude.

The door at the end of the hall opened as Martha stepped inside. “Oh, dear!” She patted her chest as if she needed to restart her heart. “Charlie! You scared me half to death.”

Martha had worked with Aunt Jo-Jo for as long as I could remember. They argued constantly, but they’d take a bullet for each other. Martha’s curly gray hair looked like a startled ferret on her head, and her glasses were askew. She wore faded overalls and lime green Crocs.

“Sorry to scare you,” I said. “We just got here. Is everything all right?”

“One of the dogs is AWOL,” Martha said. “That teenager we hired must have failed to latch the kennel, and when I opened the hotel door, the slippery rascal bolted.”

I grabbed a leash off the hook. “What’s the breed?”

Martha scratched her head. “Basic brown dog. Size of a lab, soul of a scoundrel. Answers to Maya, if she’d ever bother.”

“I’m on it,” I said.

Heading back to my car, I called for Noah to join me. Not buying into the urgency, he lumbered off the chair and followed. Back in the rental car, we set off down the street, driving up and down the hilly roads that made up the neighborhood. Charming houses had well-manicured lawns, and vibrant flowers were abundant.

I watched the road while quickly scanning the bushes for a hiding dog. I wished I would have asked how long Maya had been missing. A dog like that could make it to the main road in minutes. I prayed a car wouldn’t hit the runaway.

I soon spotted a tan blur leap over a six-foot fence three streets down, disappearing into a backyard. Slamming on the brakes, my arm automatically jerked out to stop Noah from flying off the seat. I told him to stay, grabbed the leash, and jumped out of the car. I was five-foot-ten, and for once, I didn’t curse my height.

Standing on my toes, I could easily see over the fence and into the yard. The dog chased a flock of chickens while a middle-aged woman dressed in a low-cut top and shorts that might have fit her twenty years ago yelled at Maya to stop. Yielding a broom, she chased the dog in circles with little effect.

“I’m here to help,” I yelled over the fence. “Maya, come here!”

If the dog could flip me off, she would have. The look she gave me had the same result. Maya was on a tear.

“Do something,” the woman said, near tears.

I put my foot onto a nearby wheelbarrow, pulled myself up on my forearms, and swung my leg over the fence like they’d taught me in the police academy. Dropping into a crouch on the other side, I straightened and stepped between Maya and a chicken seconds before what would become the last moment of the feathered creature’s life.

“Come here.” I leaned down to the dog’s level and motioned her forward.

But Maya had other ideas. She charged at me, knocking me on my backside before pushing off me like a diving board, ready for round two.

I struggled for breath as I reached up, and almost caught her mid-flight, but she dodged me, leaving me laying on the ground flat on my back.

I got to my knees, then staggered to my feet. “Okay,” I said, out of breath. “You win, you slippery devil.”

I swear she laughed at me.

Out of ideas, I looked at the woman still wielding the broom like a baseball bat, and the chicken, who ruffled her feathers as if she was trying to pull herself together. They didn’t look impressed by my ungraceful moves.

Apparently satisfied that she’d proven her point, Maya walked slowly over to me and ducked her head, allowing me access to her collar. Getting a firm hold of it, I gave Maya a nod. She’d earned my respect. Pushing my hair out of my face, I turned to the woman. “Sorry about that. We’ll get out of your way.”

Neither the woman nor the chicken looked particularly grateful.

Dragging the dog, who continued to lunge at the flock behind us, we made our way back to the car, where Noah still snored undisturbed. Yin and Yang, I thought as I shoved Maya into the backseat.

“Wait,” the woman called, running toward me.

Keys in hand, I paused by the door.

“You dropped this.” She handed me my phone, covered in mud and what I guessed was chicken poop.

I carefully took it, holding it by the corners, trying not to gag. “Awe, thanks.”

“And thanks to you, too, Maya,” I said under my breath.

I got into the car and looked in the rear-view mirror, about to back out of the space, when I spied Maya biting down on one of the cookies I’d planned to bring to my aunt. A twinkle sparkled in her eyes, and she held my gaze as she swallowed.

So, this was how it was going to be?

***

Excerpt from Diamond In The Ruff by Cindy Goyette. Copyright 2025 by Cindy Goyette. Reproduced with permission from Cindy Goyette. All rights reserve

 

Guest Post from Diamond in the Ruff Author Cindy Goyette
Writing Multiple Series

A book deal is one of the most exciting things that can happen to a writer. Making the leap from writer to published author is a dream come true. But there’s an old saying: Be careful what you wish for.

When I submitted my first series, THE PROBATION CASE FILES MYSTERIES, I was elated when the editor offered me a choice between a one, two, or three book deal. I took three. I would have likely accepted a 50-book deal if they had offered it to me. I was so over the moon at the thought of getting my main character, Casey Carson’s, story out in the world.

But then came the hard part. Books 2 and 3 would not write themselves. And, although I had already started book 2, I didn’t have a single idea for book 3. And book one took me years, even decades, if you counted the time I put it aside to deal with life. Now I had to produce a book a year. You’d think that would be enough pressure. But evidently, I needed more.

Forget my beer, hold my laptop.

Before I sold the probation series, my then agent had suggested I try my hand at writing a cozy mystery. I’d never read one, but it was 2020. I was stuck at home. What else did I have to do? With a loose idea about dogs and a way to write about my latest challenge—a rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis—I got to writing. Once the book was done, I thought maybe I could get a deal for that too. So, I sent it to my publisher. Yay! Another 3-book contract.

Now I had to produce two books a year.

What was I thinking?

With book 2 of the probation series, EARLY TERMINATION, released in January 2025 and my first cozy, DIAMOND IN THE RUFF, A Wiggle Butt Manor Mystery, out in May 2025, I’m neck deep in the two series sandpit. Probation book 3 is in the final edits stage while I work on book 2 of the cozy. I’m used to being ahead, and I’m still there, but now I’m chasing deadlines. It’s confusing going between the two worlds. In fact, I woke up the other day with an idea for a scene that I soon realized wouldn’t work as it intermingled characters from the two series. Wrong dog, wrong protagonist. Too bad, because I loved the scene.

I know there are plotters out there who have outlined their entire series. But I’m what we call a “panster”, meaning I write by the seat of my pants with no idea what each chapter will bring. I’m usually as surprised as the reader by who the killer is. I’ve tried plotting, but for me, it takes the wind out of my sails. It’s hard for me to stay interested in the story if I know what’s going to happen. That doesn’t mean I don’t have a list of ideas for scenes, but a lot of those never make it into the book.

I have kept journals for each book with a list of characters and potential scenarios. But to be honest, I don’t look at them often. But I find it helpful to keep track of the smaller characters’ names, etc. Maybe someday I’ll resort to outlining, but for now, I’ll stick with my current method.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have edits to do. I just have to figure out which book to work on.

Diamond in the Ruff Author Cindy Goyette

Armed with a handgun and a word processor, Immigration Officer Cindy Goyette spent her nights creating fictional friends to help pass the lonely hours between border crossers. A portable black-and-white TV cancelled the unexplained noises coming from the ancient jail cells in the creepy basement. The resulting book will stay in the closet where it belongs, but the seed was planted and she’s been writing ever since.

Cindy spent the ensuing years as a probation officer, dealing with hardened criminals with hard-luck stories that sometimes kept her up at night. Every day was an adventure. She survived by seeing humor in situations where she could find it. She joked about writing a book and then she did just that.

The Probation Case Files Mystery series books, OBEY ALL LAWS and EARLY TERMINATION incorporates the wild and crazy life of a probation officer with issues currently in the news. Cindy’s history with flirtatious felons who thought they were charmers and addicts who denied the drugs in their pockets, claiming they’re wearing their friend’s pants have given her ample material for the books she now writes. Released JANUARY 2024 and January 2025

Cindy has a habit of adopting dogs who get into as much mischief as her probationers. A vet told her, Maya – a basic brown miscreant mixed breed – was lucky Cindy had taken her home because no one else would have put up with her antics. So why not give Maya her own series? Thus, Diamond in the Ruff: A Wiggle Butt Manor Mystery was born. Released May 6, 2025

Born in New Jersey, Cindy lived in Phoenix for twenty years. She now makes her home in Washington state with her husband and two cocker spaniels.

To learn more about Cindy, click any of the following links:

www.CCGoyette.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub – @ccgoyettewriter
Instagram – @cindy.goyette
Threads – @cindy.goyette
X – @cindy_ccgoyette
Facebook – Cindy Goyette, Author

Visit all the Stops on the Tour!





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2.
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3.
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06/04 Cassidys Bookshelves DIAMOND IN THE RUFF Review






12.
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Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor

The post Diamond in the Ruff: A Cozy Mystery appeared first on The Mystery of Writing.

Wednesday, After: A Political Thriller

Wednesday, After by Dr. Richard Sherry

 

Book & Author Info!Don’t miss any blog tour posts! Click the link here.Wednesday, After

 

What would happen if a man of integrity, calm judgment, and firm conservative principles were elected our President?

Would he do better than what we have? Or might he discover that behind America’s expressed principles something still lingers from the Fall?

That behind our longing for justice, for community, for fairness, for freedom, for beauty, proportion, for the things that nurture all that is good, Something is still out there?

Let’s see.

 

Purchase Link: Amazon 

 

Excerpt—Wednesday, After

Ed Baker, professor of political science emeritus, watched a burst of snow
obliterate the lights on the opposite shoreline. The world out the window
got smaller. Since Melody had introduced him to her lake home in the
northwestern part of the state, this had seemed a haven and a refuge. Now it
began to feel like a premonition of four years for America. Dark, icy, and a
threat to your life.

It was early yet today, not even breakfast time, and he’d finished email, lounging over
his computer at the kitchen island. Melody was sleeping in a bit, dealing
with some sort of cold for the last day or so. He was a little worried how
fast this had come on and how weak she was. Another cup of coffee? I believe
I will.

Looking back at him, faintly mirrored in the window, he saw a white-haired, white-bearded figure
of middling height, dark wire-framed glasses, a little thicker around the
middle than was probably healthy. Shadowy in a robe and slippers.
That’s me, he thought. Pretty conventional. Beard and hair trimmed.
Not ratty, not too well turned out. No lean Jordan Peterson, no pudgy,
sloppy Jeff Bridges, no crisp Alec Guinness. No old surprises, and I feel
like I’m fresh out of new ones. Just me.

When his journey into being a gadfly, a subtle saboteur, had begun four years ago, he had
been widowed, a little thinner, clean-shaven, and dark-haired with some
threads of white. Not any longer, he thought, and sighed happily.

He thought about that hyphenated estimate of the country’s emotional
condition: “pre-suicidal.” He wouldn’t have expected the
presidential election of 2024 to have turned out to be so emotionally
devastating. When Former President Frederick Underwood Gray had
“disappeared,” fleeing to Moscow in the face of possible
impending arrest, and current President Gerard Freeman had decided to
withdraw so both parties could start over, Baker had been cautiously
optimistic. Both Democrats and Republicans had publicly talked about a
“reset,” with reaffirmation of “first principles” about government. He hoped for new platforms.

It hadn’t happened.

Wednesday, After Author Dr. Richard Sherry

Dr. Richard Sherry is the author of the Baker Mischief series, including A Month of Sundays (2022) ; Mondays, Mondays (2023) ; and First Tuesday 2024. The political thriller series introduces retired political science professor Dr. Ed Baker, determined to open up American politics to daylight. He is almost always up against both the law and forces attempting to conceal their influence on American life. In A Month of Sundays, Baker uncovers who owns
senators up for election in 2020 and releases their emails to the voters in their states. In Mondays, Mondays, he reveals a “voting bloc” in the Supreme Court and who is influencing them. In First Tuesday, Baker and his former students look at the influential forces behind the 2024 presidential election, with surprising results.

Richard released a memoir in 2020, The Long Run: Meditations on Marriage, Dementia, Caregiving, and Loss (2020), about his first wife’s illness and death.

Richard is a retired college professor and administrator. He resides in Minnesota and winters in Arizona with his wife Marjorie Mathison Hance, author of the North lakes Murder Mystery Series.

 

Contact Links

Facebook

Goodreads

 

Elena Hartwell/Elena Taylor

 

The post Wednesday, After: A Political Thriller appeared first on The Mystery of Writing.

Mrs. Oliver’s Twist: A Quinn McFarland Mystery

Mrs. Oliver’s Twist, the latest release by Saralyn Richard

Guest Post + Book and Author InfoLearn more about Mrs. Oliver’s Twist, click the link here for an interview with SaralynDon’t miss any new books! Click the link here for more interviews, guest posts, and spotlights.Mrs. Oliver’s Twist

Quinn McFarland is on the verge of living her best life. With exciting career plans, a loving husband, and dreams of a perfect future, everything seems to be falling into place. But when she’s asked to identify the body of her beloved former teacher, Mrs. Oliver, Quinn’s world is fragmented.

The moment Quinn looks at the wrist of the deceased, she notices something chilling—a tattoo she’s seen before. But this time, the ink holds an unsettling meaning, pulling Quinn into a tangled web of mystery and deception. As she digs deeper, Quinn uncovers dark truths about her teacher’s past—secrets that lead to a brutal murder and people she knows and trusts.

Now, Quinn must navigate a treacherous path where every clue brings more danger and where the stakes are do-or-die. As the investigation spirals out of control, Quinn’s carefully constructed life begins to unravel. With her marriage, her family, and her future on the line, Quinn must confront the frightening reality that the killer may be closer than she ever imagined—and time is running out.

A gripping thriller filled with unexpected perils, Mrs. Oliver’s Twist will keep you spinning until the very last page.​

To purchase Mrs. Oliver’s Twist, click any of the following links: Amazon, Barnes & Noble & IndieBound The Detective Parrott Mystery Series

The Detective Parrott Mystery Series features police procedural mysteries set in Brandywine Valley, Pennsylvania, where many of America’s wealthiest and most powerful elite own equestrian farms and country mansions.

Detective Parrott, young, African-American, and an outsider, brings clear thinking and a strong moral compass to the job. He’s determined to find the truth and right wrongs. Despite differences in background and experiences, Parrott’s investigations of Brandywine’s one percenters intertwine with his own life in remarkable and intriguing ways.

 

Find all four books by clicking any of the following links: Amazon, Barnes & Noble & IndieBoundGuest Post: Saralyn Richard, Author of Mrs. Oliver’s TwistWhen Setting Drives Plot and Characters

Brandywine Valley is one of the loveliest, most peaceful places on the planet. America’s earliest farm country still has historic buildings and artifacts from the eighteenth century, and the natural beauty of animals and trees reminds me of the settings in post-Renaissance paintings or Thomas Hardy novels. Everything there—the homes, the land, the culture, the people—all of it is rich with beauty and comfort. It’s the last place you’d expect a murder.

David Hamilton’s Garden

I visited the area many times, but writing about it required intense familiarity with the place—its weather, its attractions, its problems, its people. I interviewed people in various industries, horses, art, farming, conservancy, architecture, and more, and I learned a lot. It was a special thrill when people welcomed me into their businesses and homes to share information, and I’ve done my best to make Detective Parrott’s cases there as authentic in local color as possible.

When it came time to write the Detective Parrott mystery series, I let the setting lead me to the plot. I wrote about the horse community in MURDER IN THE ONE PERCENT, interviewing horse owners, journalists for “The Hunt” and “Steeplechase” magazines, and visiting stables.

The art community sits at the center of A PALETTE FOR LOVE AND MURDER. I learned so much from the Brandywine River Museum, one of the finest regional art museums in the country, if not the world. I spent a day wandering around there, admiring the paintings and soaking up the atmosphere.

The next two books in the Detective Parrott series, CRYSTAL BLUE MURDER and MURDER OUTSIDE THE BOX revolve around the unique historical bank barn structures and fascinating geological topography of the area.

On the surface, Brandywine Valley may be quiet and peaceful, but in my mind, suspense and intrigue are embedded in the landscape, just waiting for Detective Parrott.

Have you been to Brandywine Valley? What about this setting intrigues you for a mystery?

Saralyn Richard — Author of Mrs. Oliver’s Twist

Saralyn Richard writes award-winning mysteries that pull back the curtain on settings like elite country manor houses and disadvantaged urban high schools.

Her works include the Detective Parrott mystery series, Bad Blood Sisters, Mrs. Oliver’s Twist, A Murder of Principal, and Naughty Nana, a children’s book.

An active member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America, Saralyn teaches creative writing and literature. Her favorite thing about being an author is interacting with readers like you.

For more information, visit her website at SaralynRichard.comElena Hartwell | Elena Taylor

The post Mrs. Oliver’s Twist: A Quinn McFarland Mystery appeared first on The Mystery of Writing.