Christa Nardi's Blog, page 51
November 1, 2017
Guest Post : AMY KORMAN, Author of Killer Holiday
Killer Holiday by Amy Kormanon Tour October 23 - November 30, 2017Today, it's my pleasure to have as my guest, Amy Korman, author of Killer Holiday to talk about her new book...
When my editor at Witness Impulse/HarperCollins suggested to me that the fourth book in my Killer Wasps mystery series have a winter-holiday theme, I couldn’t wait to sit down and start writing. Who hasn’t had festive family squabbles, canceled flights, mall parking lot fiascos, and a Butterball turkey timer that just won’t pop when everyone’s starving?
That insane period between Thanksgiving and the New Year is the perfect time for the Killer Wasps characters to solve crimes and enjoy cocktails in my new book, Killer Holiday. It’s December, and antique dealer Kristin Clark is trying to bring in shoppers to her store The Striped Awning outside Philadelphia, when once again, crime invades her quiet town.
Former Mob wife Sophie’s being shot at by a local Santa, and gossipy Bootsie is missing a valuable item—her brother Chip, who’s entangled with shady golf resort developers. Then there’s the super-annoying Eula Morris, the group’s high school nemesis, who recently won Powerball and got a fancy makeover. Unfortunately for Eula, who’s been on a lengthy cruise, a suitcase full of gold she “forgot” to declare at Customs goes missing as soon as she steps off board, and Kristin and her friends are soon helping Eula steal it back. Cocktails, a Christmas cabaret, a break-in, poker games and a road trip to Florida help make this December merry for the Killer Wasps detectives, who also need to decide on important matters like what to eat at their annual Christmas party: Will it be brisket or baked ziti?
At such a busy time of year, it’s a real luxury to escape with a book or a movie, and hopefully Killer Holiday readers will find it lightens their stress for an hour or two. I’m overwhelmed like everyone else at this time of year, so I plan to curl up with Hercule Poirot’s Christmas, watch Christmas in Connecticut for the millionth time, and I’ll definitely be mixing up a batch of Bootsie Delaney’s favorite holiday drink, the Bourbon Blitzen. Thank you so much for reading Killer Holiday!
About the book:It’s December 15th, time to mix up the holiday cocktails in tranquil Bryn Mawr, PA. Then a Samsonite full of gold goes missing, Bootsie’s not-so-bright brother Chip is kidnapped, and shady lawyer Scooter Simmons is offering investors shares in a fake golf resort. For antiques dealer Kristin Clark and her friends, this Christmas is murder….
Kristin Clark and her offbeat crew of Bryn Mawr socialites are ready for a fun and festive winter holiday—one that involves sipping martinis by a crackling yule log, hot guys beneath the mistletoe, and Gucci under the Christmas tree. But this year, Old Saint Nick has something more dangerous in store. A stranger dressed in a Santa suit has Kristin’s friends on his naughty list. First, Sophie’s favorite handbag is blasted by a bullet. Then, Father Christmas shatters her brother Chip’s car window with a golf club and leaves a threatening note demanding fifty grand. Both are convinced it has to be a mistake. But when Chip goes missing, the stakes become deadly. Eula Morris is also back in town for the holidays, more bossy and boastful than ever after winning a mega-jackpot in the lottery. She’s returned from a luxury cruise around the world with a handsome new boyfriend (who looks oddly familiar…) and a Samsonite suitcase filled with gold bars. When the suitcase is snatched, Eula implores Kristin and the team to track it down. Where is Chip? Why is a vengeful Santa targeting the gang? Who stole Eula’s suitcase? And how are these events linked? The WASPs and Kristen’s basset hound Waffles are on the case—before this white Christmas turns even darker…
Bootsie McElvoy burst through the front door of The Striped Awning, a bag of ice in her right hand and the biggest bottle of Maker’s Mark bourbon I’ve ever seen in her left. She dug into her L.L. Bean tote for a bottle of red wine, a shaker of nutmeg, and a bag of fun-size candy canes, all of which she deposited next to a display of 1940s barware near the front of my antiques store.
“Kristin, it’s December fifteenth, which means it’s time for you to start offering shoppers a specialty cocktail the minute they set foot inside your store,” Bootsie told me. “I’m going to mix up a batch of the Delaney family Christmas drink, the Bourbon Blitzen, which never fails to produce a White Christmas vibe. One sip and you’ll feel like you’re singing and dancing with Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye at a snowy Vermont inn. This should double your sales totals for the month.”
“Thanks!” I said gratefully, since Bootsie’s family’s boozy drinks are known throughout our village of Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, for their potency and tendency to produce unwise purchases.
“The drinks sound good, but you’re also going to need about four thousand more of these pinecones, triple the greenery, and eight hundred additional strands of lights,” Joe Delafield informed me; he’d arrived twenty minutes earlier to help me decorate my store for the Christmas rush.
To lure in passing foot traffic, I’d brought in armloads of holly and spruce branches from my backyard (cost: free, thankfully), spray-painted pinecones silver (the paint was only $5.28 at the hardware store), and added some cheerful-looking blinking white lights. This would probably bring tons of holiday shoppers through my front door!
Joe paused, eyeing the room with his signature critical stare. “The effect I’m going for is that a bunch of HGTV-crazed elves with subscriptions to Veranda magazine snuck in and decorated for four straight days. Gerda, we’re going to need the blinking lights to stop blinking, pronto. Pull the plug, please.”
Joe’s assistant for the day was the eponymous owner of Gerda’s Bust Your Ass Gym, which is housed inside the beauty salon across the street. Since Gerda stands a lofty six feet tall in flats (or sneakers, which is her usual footwear, since fancy shoes aren’t her style), she’d agreed to hang ornaments, bringing her signature grim attitude to the proceedings.
“Cute idea,” Bootsie observed, casting a dubious stare at my front window, which was filled with antique silver-plated candlesticks, flatware, and wineglasses. “Is that your holiday inventory?”
“Nobody going to want that stuff,” said Gerda, who moved here from her native Austria a few years back. Gerda, who’s incredibly muscular and brings in sell-out crowds at her Pilates classes, isn’t the most tactful person in the world. “People want, like, scarves and Fitbits and iPhones.”
I sighed, knowing Gerda was right. Those were the gifts on most holiday wish lists.
“Luckily, I’ve solved all your problems,” Bootsie told me. “I ran into Eddie from the Pub this morning, and he needs a place to hold some late-night poker tournaments this month, so I brokered a deal for The Striped Awning. You’ll be hosting twice-weekly games from 10 p.m. till 1 a.m., Tuesdays and Thursdays till Valentine’s Day.”
“What!” I erupted, alarmed by this idea. “First of all, that doesn’t sound legal.”
“It’s fine,” she told me, waving away my concerns. “I mean, it’s not like it will be a professional betting operation. Eddie’s limiting each night to ten players and three hours. Some cards, a few drinks, a few small wagers. What could go wrong?”
“A lot!” I said. “They’ll blow cigar smoke and drop Dorito crumbs everywhere. Not to mention get arrested for operating a casino without a license. A lot could go wrong!”
“You worry too much,” Bootsie informed me dismissively. “Plus, he’ll pay you two hundred dollars a night.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Bootsie knew she had me—there’s no way I can refuse an extra four hundred dollars a week, even if it puts me on the wrong side of the state gaming commission.
Just then, though, the front door was thrown open by one Sophie Shields, a tiny blonde who at the moment was looking slightly wild-eyed.
“Ya won’t believe what just happened!” shrieked Sophie. “The Colketts were helping me put up curtains in my new dining room, since Joe here never finished decorating my place—and the curtains are orange silk, by the way, they’re totally Elle Decor meets a J. Lo red-carpet gown. So Tim and Tom Colkett were talking paint colors when I heard a horn honking, so I opened the front door, thinking it was the delivery boy from the Hoagie House. I figured I’d go out and pay the driver, when boom!
“A guy dressed as Santa leaned out of the driver’s seat of a black SUV that had pulled right up in my driveway and aimed a gun at me and the Colketts!” The Colketts are the town’s leading landscape designers, who’ve lately turned their talents to party planning and interior design.
“Then the guy yelled, ‘Hey, Sophie, this one’s from your ex, Barclay!’ and shot my favorite handbag!” Sophie finished. “I was reaching into it to pay for the hoagies, thank goodness, so it acted as a protective shield. Also, I think maybe this Santa guy doesn’t have great aim.”
We all stared at her for a moment.
“Are you sure, Sophie?” said Bootsie finally. “Because this sounds like BS.”
“Yeah, Sophie, maybe you been hitting the wine bottle today,” seconded Gerda. “I know the Colketts are day drinkers. Maybe you been guzzling alcohol, too.”
“It’s true!” Sophie bleated. “Just look at this Ferragamo satchel! If it hadn’t had gold hardware to block the trajectory of the bullet, me and the Colketts would have been toast!”
***
Excerpt from Killer Holiday by Amy Korman. Copyright © 2017 by Amy Korman. Reproduced with permission from Witness Impulse. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Amy Korman is a former senior editor and staff writer for Philadelphia Magazine, and author of Frommer’s Guide to Philadelphia. She has written for Town & Country, House Beautiful, Men’s Health, and Cosmopolitan. Killer WASPS is her first novel.Catch Up With Ms. Korman On: amykorman.com, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!
Tour Participants:Visit the other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
Giveaway:This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Amy Korman and Witness Impulse. There will be 3 winners of one (1) eBook copy of KILLER PUNCH by Amy Korman. The giveaway begins on October 23 and runs through December 3, 2017.a Rafflecopter giveawayGet More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours
When my editor at Witness Impulse/HarperCollins suggested to me that the fourth book in my Killer Wasps mystery series have a winter-holiday theme, I couldn’t wait to sit down and start writing. Who hasn’t had festive family squabbles, canceled flights, mall parking lot fiascos, and a Butterball turkey timer that just won’t pop when everyone’s starving?
That insane period between Thanksgiving and the New Year is the perfect time for the Killer Wasps characters to solve crimes and enjoy cocktails in my new book, Killer Holiday. It’s December, and antique dealer Kristin Clark is trying to bring in shoppers to her store The Striped Awning outside Philadelphia, when once again, crime invades her quiet town.
Former Mob wife Sophie’s being shot at by a local Santa, and gossipy Bootsie is missing a valuable item—her brother Chip, who’s entangled with shady golf resort developers. Then there’s the super-annoying Eula Morris, the group’s high school nemesis, who recently won Powerball and got a fancy makeover. Unfortunately for Eula, who’s been on a lengthy cruise, a suitcase full of gold she “forgot” to declare at Customs goes missing as soon as she steps off board, and Kristin and her friends are soon helping Eula steal it back. Cocktails, a Christmas cabaret, a break-in, poker games and a road trip to Florida help make this December merry for the Killer Wasps detectives, who also need to decide on important matters like what to eat at their annual Christmas party: Will it be brisket or baked ziti?
At such a busy time of year, it’s a real luxury to escape with a book or a movie, and hopefully Killer Holiday readers will find it lightens their stress for an hour or two. I’m overwhelmed like everyone else at this time of year, so I plan to curl up with Hercule Poirot’s Christmas, watch Christmas in Connecticut for the millionth time, and I’ll definitely be mixing up a batch of Bootsie Delaney’s favorite holiday drink, the Bourbon Blitzen. Thank you so much for reading Killer Holiday!
About the book:It’s December 15th, time to mix up the holiday cocktails in tranquil Bryn Mawr, PA. Then a Samsonite full of gold goes missing, Bootsie’s not-so-bright brother Chip is kidnapped, and shady lawyer Scooter Simmons is offering investors shares in a fake golf resort. For antiques dealer Kristin Clark and her friends, this Christmas is murder….
Kristin Clark and her offbeat crew of Bryn Mawr socialites are ready for a fun and festive winter holiday—one that involves sipping martinis by a crackling yule log, hot guys beneath the mistletoe, and Gucci under the Christmas tree. But this year, Old Saint Nick has something more dangerous in store. A stranger dressed in a Santa suit has Kristin’s friends on his naughty list. First, Sophie’s favorite handbag is blasted by a bullet. Then, Father Christmas shatters her brother Chip’s car window with a golf club and leaves a threatening note demanding fifty grand. Both are convinced it has to be a mistake. But when Chip goes missing, the stakes become deadly. Eula Morris is also back in town for the holidays, more bossy and boastful than ever after winning a mega-jackpot in the lottery. She’s returned from a luxury cruise around the world with a handsome new boyfriend (who looks oddly familiar…) and a Samsonite suitcase filled with gold bars. When the suitcase is snatched, Eula implores Kristin and the team to track it down. Where is Chip? Why is a vengeful Santa targeting the gang? Who stole Eula’s suitcase? And how are these events linked? The WASPs and Kristen’s basset hound Waffles are on the case—before this white Christmas turns even darker…Book Details:Genre: MysteryPublished by: Witness ImpulsePublication Date: October 24th 2017 by Witness ImpulseNumber of Pages: 320ISBN: 0062431366 (ISBN13: 9780062431363)Series: A Killer WASPs Mystery, #4Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodreadsRead an excerpt:Chapter One
Bootsie McElvoy burst through the front door of The Striped Awning, a bag of ice in her right hand and the biggest bottle of Maker’s Mark bourbon I’ve ever seen in her left. She dug into her L.L. Bean tote for a bottle of red wine, a shaker of nutmeg, and a bag of fun-size candy canes, all of which she deposited next to a display of 1940s barware near the front of my antiques store.
“Kristin, it’s December fifteenth, which means it’s time for you to start offering shoppers a specialty cocktail the minute they set foot inside your store,” Bootsie told me. “I’m going to mix up a batch of the Delaney family Christmas drink, the Bourbon Blitzen, which never fails to produce a White Christmas vibe. One sip and you’ll feel like you’re singing and dancing with Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye at a snowy Vermont inn. This should double your sales totals for the month.”
“Thanks!” I said gratefully, since Bootsie’s family’s boozy drinks are known throughout our village of Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, for their potency and tendency to produce unwise purchases.
“The drinks sound good, but you’re also going to need about four thousand more of these pinecones, triple the greenery, and eight hundred additional strands of lights,” Joe Delafield informed me; he’d arrived twenty minutes earlier to help me decorate my store for the Christmas rush.
To lure in passing foot traffic, I’d brought in armloads of holly and spruce branches from my backyard (cost: free, thankfully), spray-painted pinecones silver (the paint was only $5.28 at the hardware store), and added some cheerful-looking blinking white lights. This would probably bring tons of holiday shoppers through my front door!
Joe paused, eyeing the room with his signature critical stare. “The effect I’m going for is that a bunch of HGTV-crazed elves with subscriptions to Veranda magazine snuck in and decorated for four straight days. Gerda, we’re going to need the blinking lights to stop blinking, pronto. Pull the plug, please.”
Joe’s assistant for the day was the eponymous owner of Gerda’s Bust Your Ass Gym, which is housed inside the beauty salon across the street. Since Gerda stands a lofty six feet tall in flats (or sneakers, which is her usual footwear, since fancy shoes aren’t her style), she’d agreed to hang ornaments, bringing her signature grim attitude to the proceedings.
“Cute idea,” Bootsie observed, casting a dubious stare at my front window, which was filled with antique silver-plated candlesticks, flatware, and wineglasses. “Is that your holiday inventory?”
“Nobody going to want that stuff,” said Gerda, who moved here from her native Austria a few years back. Gerda, who’s incredibly muscular and brings in sell-out crowds at her Pilates classes, isn’t the most tactful person in the world. “People want, like, scarves and Fitbits and iPhones.”
I sighed, knowing Gerda was right. Those were the gifts on most holiday wish lists.
“Luckily, I’ve solved all your problems,” Bootsie told me. “I ran into Eddie from the Pub this morning, and he needs a place to hold some late-night poker tournaments this month, so I brokered a deal for The Striped Awning. You’ll be hosting twice-weekly games from 10 p.m. till 1 a.m., Tuesdays and Thursdays till Valentine’s Day.”
“What!” I erupted, alarmed by this idea. “First of all, that doesn’t sound legal.”
“It’s fine,” she told me, waving away my concerns. “I mean, it’s not like it will be a professional betting operation. Eddie’s limiting each night to ten players and three hours. Some cards, a few drinks, a few small wagers. What could go wrong?”
“A lot!” I said. “They’ll blow cigar smoke and drop Dorito crumbs everywhere. Not to mention get arrested for operating a casino without a license. A lot could go wrong!”
“You worry too much,” Bootsie informed me dismissively. “Plus, he’ll pay you two hundred dollars a night.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Bootsie knew she had me—there’s no way I can refuse an extra four hundred dollars a week, even if it puts me on the wrong side of the state gaming commission.
Just then, though, the front door was thrown open by one Sophie Shields, a tiny blonde who at the moment was looking slightly wild-eyed.
“Ya won’t believe what just happened!” shrieked Sophie. “The Colketts were helping me put up curtains in my new dining room, since Joe here never finished decorating my place—and the curtains are orange silk, by the way, they’re totally Elle Decor meets a J. Lo red-carpet gown. So Tim and Tom Colkett were talking paint colors when I heard a horn honking, so I opened the front door, thinking it was the delivery boy from the Hoagie House. I figured I’d go out and pay the driver, when boom!
“A guy dressed as Santa leaned out of the driver’s seat of a black SUV that had pulled right up in my driveway and aimed a gun at me and the Colketts!” The Colketts are the town’s leading landscape designers, who’ve lately turned their talents to party planning and interior design.
“Then the guy yelled, ‘Hey, Sophie, this one’s from your ex, Barclay!’ and shot my favorite handbag!” Sophie finished. “I was reaching into it to pay for the hoagies, thank goodness, so it acted as a protective shield. Also, I think maybe this Santa guy doesn’t have great aim.”
We all stared at her for a moment.
“Are you sure, Sophie?” said Bootsie finally. “Because this sounds like BS.”
“Yeah, Sophie, maybe you been hitting the wine bottle today,” seconded Gerda. “I know the Colketts are day drinkers. Maybe you been guzzling alcohol, too.”
“It’s true!” Sophie bleated. “Just look at this Ferragamo satchel! If it hadn’t had gold hardware to block the trajectory of the bullet, me and the Colketts would have been toast!”
***
Excerpt from Killer Holiday by Amy Korman. Copyright © 2017 by Amy Korman. Reproduced with permission from Witness Impulse. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Amy Korman is a former senior editor and staff writer for Philadelphia Magazine, and author of Frommer’s Guide to Philadelphia. She has written for Town & Country, House Beautiful, Men’s Health, and Cosmopolitan. Killer WASPS is her first novel.Catch Up With Ms. Korman On: amykorman.com, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!Tour Participants:Visit the other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
Giveaway:This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Amy Korman and Witness Impulse. There will be 3 winners of one (1) eBook copy of KILLER PUNCH by Amy Korman. The giveaway begins on October 23 and runs through December 3, 2017.a Rafflecopter giveawayGet More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours
October 20, 2017
Blog Tour and Review: BEST-LAID PLANTS by Marty Wingate
Best-Laid Plants: A Potting Shed Mysteryby Marty Wingate
SYNOPSIS
A trip to the English countryside turns into a brush with death for Pru Parke, the only gardener whose holiday wouldn’t be complete without a murder to solve.
Pru and her husband, former Detective Chief Inspector Christopher Pearse, are long overdue for a getaway. So when Pru is invited to redesign an Arts and Crafts garden in the picturesque Cotswolds, she and Christopher jump at the chance. Unfortunately, their B&B is more ramshackle than charming, and the once thriving garden, with its lovely Thyme Walk, has fallen into heartbreaking neglect. With the garden’s owner and designer, Batsford Bede, under the weather, Pru tackles the renovation alone. But just as she’s starting to make headway, she stumbles upon Batsford’s body in the garden—dead and pinned beneath one of his limestone statues.
With such a small police force in the area, Christopher is called upon to lead the investigation. Pru can’t imagine anyone murdering Batsford Bede, a gentle man who preferred to spend his time in quiet contemplation, surrounded by nature. But as her work on the garden turns up one ominous clue after another, Pru discovers that the scenery is more dangerous than she or Christopher could have anticipated.
Marty Wingate’s captivating mysteries can be enjoyed together or separately, in any order:
The Potting Shed series:
THE GARDEN PLOT
THE RED BOOK OF PRIMROSE HOUSE
BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE
THE SKELETON GARDEN
THE BLUEBONNET BETRAYAL
BEST-LAID PLANTS
REVIEW
Pru and Christopher travel to the very location where they met three years ago and plan to attend the same fete. The purpose of the trip, however, is for Pru to determine what needs to be done to restore Mr. Bede's extensive gardens to their prior glory. Since the death of Conn... he has let them go wild. Conn...'s daughter Coral has returned with word of his failing health and asked Pru for her assistance.
There are many unique characters and inter-relationships, including the discovery of Cynthia Mouser, a woman Christopher was involved with many years ago, who now is a frequent visitor to Mr. Bede. The individual histories unfold with tension rising and falling. When Mr. Bede is found dead in the gardens, there are a number of suspects and only one heir.
Similar to others in this series and some other English mysteries, the pace at the beginning is slower than I'm used to, but moves along at a good pace once the foundation is set. Pru and Christopher work well together - Cynthia is an interesting distraction. If you've liked others in this series, this one will not disappoint; however, it can also be read as a stand alone.
FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book in the hopes that I would post an honest review as part of this blog tour. This has not affected the content of my review in any way.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Marty Wingate is a Seattle-based writer and speaker who shares her love of Britain in her two mystery series. The Potting Shed books feature Pru Parke, a middle-aged American gardener transplanted from Texas to England, and Birds of a Feather follows Julia Lanchester, bird lover, who runs a tourist office in a Suffolk village. Marty writes garden articles for magazines including Country Gardens and theAmerican Gardener. She is a member of the Royal Horticultural Society, Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and the Crime Writers Association. She leads garden tours to England, Scotland and Ireland, spending free moments deep in research for her books. Or in pubs.
AUTHOR LINKS:Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/martywingateauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/martywingate
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/453259.Marty_Wingate
Website: www.martywingate.com
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/marthawingate/
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Marty-Wingate/e/B001JS1AIS
PURCHASE LINKS
Amazon B&N kobo Google Play
TOUR PARTICIPANTS
October 16 – Carole's Book Corner – REVIEW
October 16 – Mystery Thrillers and Romantic Suspense Reviews - SPOTLIGHT
October 17 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT
October 18 – A Holland Reads – GUEST POST
October 19 – Reading Reality - REVIEW
October 20 – Christ Reads and Writes – REVIEW
October 21 - The Power of Words - REVIEW
October 22 – Laura's Interests – REVIEW
October 23 – Back Porchervations – REVIEW
October 24 – Celticlady's Reviews - SPOTLIGHT
October 25 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
October 26 – Jane Reads – GUEST POST
October 27 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT
October 28 – Island Confidential – INTERVIEW
October 29 – A Chick Who Reads - REVIEW
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October 15, 2017
Blog Tour and Review: TRAIL OF DEFECTS by Sara Caudall
Synopsis
This modern day mystery contains unpredictable elements, reminiscent of earlier days in the Wild West. Crime waves in a small town can be confusing but it is especially daunting for Sheriff Hobson. It is unclear which side of the law his townspeople are on. Starting with an armed robbery of Kelly’s Lounge, elder abuse, and a runaway child, strange happenings pileup.Review
A small town mystery, the story line of TRAIL OF DEFECTS has multiple story lines that intersect in the way that only happen in small towns. Tiffany and her mother Joyce are the newcomers, supposedly taking care of Edna. Sarah is also a newcomer to the town and supposed to do rehab with Edna. Everyone else takes each other for granted and no one, least of all the sheriff or DA, can quite figure out how the robbery at Kelly's, the sorrel left in someone's pasture, the runaway, and the murder could be connected. Certainly, they didn't expect that Travis Bristol's gun would figure into three of the occurrences, without his even knowing it was missing.
The plot unwinds with each incident, piece by piece, and the murderer isn't necessarily obvious. There are unique twists to keep one's interest.
FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book in the hopes that I would post an honest review as part of this blog tour. This has not affected the content of my review in any way.About The Author
I grew up in a small ranching community in Colorado where I learned to judge beef on the hoof and under wrap. After moving around the country for my husband’s career and catching college courses as I could, I finally found myself in one place long enough to finish my degree. I was an artist (acrylic), raised three children, managed offices, and started my own genealogy resource business before weaving my stories and experiences into novels. I now lives in central Texas with my patient husband and four cats. In my spare time I do genealogy and historical research and nurses orphan kittens back to health for the local animal shelter.Links
www.saracaudell.com Twitter:@CaudellSara Facebook :https://www.facebook.com/groups/caudellsara/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14009926.Sara_Caudell
Purchase links
Amazon B&N
Other Books in the Series
October 12, 2017
Interview and Review: HALLOWEEN IS MURDER : A McKinley Mystery by Carolyn Arnold
Interview with Carolyn Arnold about Halloween is MurderWhat inspired you to write Halloween is Murder?Halloween is probably the most popular holiday next to Christmas! Who wouldn’t want to read a Halloween-themed murder mystery? And it’s kept light and fun.
I understand this is part of the McKinley Mystery series, but can this book stand on its own? And can you share with us what the book is about?
Halloween is Murder can easily be read as a standalone.
In Halloween is Murder, Sean and Sara McKinley are set to celebrate Halloween in style, and they’re eager to invite the entire city to visit their haunted house fund-raiser. But their recorded segment for a local television station goes unaired and the reporter is later found dead. Sara’s determined to get answers, and she brings Sean and their entire PI firm along with her. There are more tricks than treats, however, as they try to carve out the truth.
Please tell us a little more about the McKinleys and their series.
Romance. Humor. Murder. Those three words best sum up what readers can expect from the McKinley Mysteries series.
These stories are cozy in nature and appeal to readers who love a murder mystery without the gore or foul language. Each installment is novella length, with the exception of The Day Job is Murder, which is a short story. This makes the books “perfect for curling up for an afternoon” (Brooke Blogs) and “perfect to bring along on vacation” (Bound 4 Escape). The Layaway Dragon describes the series as, “perfect if you like clean-cut characters, a sweetheart romance, having the money to follow your dreams, and crime-solving abilities.”
To tell you a bit more, Sean and Sara McKinley are former homicide detectives with a talent for attracting death investigations wherever they go. When a billionaire leaves them all his money, they no longer have to work for a living, but they find themselves sticking to what they’re good at—solving murders. From sleuths to eventual private investigators, they’ll do whatever it takes to solve a case. Whether that means going undercover, off the books, or around the world, you can be certain they’ll be romancing it up along the way.
This is the perfect book series for fans of Hart to Hart, Castle, Columbo, Monk, Rockford Files, Psych, and Magnum PI.
What can readers expect when they crack the cover?
They can expect to feel the chill in the air, to see the colored leaves on the ground, and to slip into the world of make-believe in true Halloween spirit while Sean and Sara search for a killer. There is also, of course, some humor and romance along the way.
Name one specific just-for-fun liberty you took with the book?
In Christmas is Murder, I named the chapters after holiday-related songs, and I carried a bit of this fun over to Halloween is Murder. Each chapter is titled with a play on Halloween-related words or phrases. Here are some examples (in no particular order): “Dreading the ‘Boo,’” “Stuck Between a Grave and a Tombstone,” “An Attempt to Sweeten the Cauldron,” and “Grim Reaper Claims a Victim.”
What’s your favorite part about Halloween?
Seeing how happy people are when they dress up and pretend to be someone else for the night. And let’s not forget the candy!
What makes Halloween is Murder the perfect Halloween read?It’s fun and light, just like the holiday. Throw in a murder to solve, dressing up, some cloak-and-dagger, and a haunted house, and who can say no to that?
Book Overview:
Beware of all that goes bump in the night…
Sean and Sara McKinley are excited about the haunted house they’ve set up as a Halloween charity fund-raiser, but things take a ghoulish turn when the reporter covering their story is found dead. With the media keeping mum about how she died, Sara’s curiosity is piqued, and she convinces Sean to take on the investigation through their PI firm.
But this case is not without its challenges. The police are actively investigating it, as well, and it’s not even clear that the woman was murdered. It will take a little cloak-and-dagger, dress-up, and finesse for the McKinleys to get to the bottom of it, but they aren’t the kind to give up.
As they troll for leads and work through the skeletons in the reporter’s closet, they unearth a few suspects, but they’ll need to carve out the whole truth if they’re going to find her killer. If they do so fast enough, there might even be time for a little trick-or-treating.
You can buy Halloween is Murder wherever books are sold, including the following popular retailers:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Kobo | Google Play
To find out more about Halloween is Murder and the other installments in the McKinley Mysteries series, including box sets, visit CarolynArnold.net/Mckinley-Mysteries.
Review
Sara is much more invested in finding Chloe's murder, while Sean and Jimmy are hesitant given that it's an open investigation and it's not yet evident she was murdered. The haunted house is a good backdrop, and of course, as with the money for their investigations, everything goes to charity. The camera man is a bit odd, the data disk with the haunted house is missing, and who knew Chloe had a twin. Some quirky characters and twists add to the fun. This is part of a series, but can easily be read as a stand-alone. The pace is quick, typical of other McKinley Mysteries. And like the others, this one does not disappoint.
FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book in the hopes that I would post an honest review. This has not affected the content of my review in any way.
A bout the McKinley Mysteries:
Romance. Humor. Murder. Are you looking for a murder mystery without all the graphic violence and foul language? Something that you can enjoy in an afternoon and walk away feeling good about afterward? How about a dash of humor and romance? If so, meet former detectives Sean and Sara McKinley. When a billionaire leaves them all his money, they no longer have to work, but they find themselves sticking to what they’re good at—solving murders. Undercover, off the books, and around the world, they’ll get to the bottom of things…and romance it up along the way.
This is the perfect book series for fans of Hart to Hart, Castle, Columbo, Monk, Rockford Files, Psych, and Magnum PI.
About the Author
Carolyn Arnold is an international bestselling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series and has written nearly thirty books. Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark, POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.
Connect with CAROLYN ARNOLD Online:
Website | Twitter | Facebook
And don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter for up-to-date information on release and special offers at http://carolynarnold.net/newsletters.
October 8, 2017
Blog Tour: FIREWORKS IN PARADISE (TJ Jensen Mystery Series) by Kathi Daley
Synopsis
While on vacation in South Carolina, Tj Jensen receives a call that her father has been left in a coma after a devastating car crash. Back home in Paradise Lake, Tj learns the accident that killed family friend Judge Harper and left her father clinging to life wasn’t an accident at all—someone cut their brake lines. To make matters worse, her friend and police contact, Deputy Roy Fisher, is working with a new partner who has no intention of letting Tj anywhere near the case. Facing an investigation more explosive than the annual fireworks show, Tj enlists the help of her best friends to unravel the mystery, all the while navigating a new romance and the thought her father may never wake up.Review
Tj has her hands full between her two sisters, all the preparations for the fourth, and trying to solve the murder of Judge Harper with Kyle as her willing assistant. Only he is as much a distraction as help. Roy helps when he can, but his new partner is the one investigating Harper's death. A known suspect and one that the Judge may have identified as a killer in another case - Tj follows the leads along with her friends. The culprit isn't obvious until the end and the ending makes sense. Family, friends, romance and murder - what more could you ask for?
FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book in the hopes that I would post an honest review as part of this blog tour. This has not affected the content of my review in any way.
Purchase Links
Amazon B&N
Books in the Tj Jensen Mystery Series:
• PUMPKINS IN PARADISE (#1)
• SNOWMEN IN PARADISE (#2)
• BIKINIS IN PARADISE (#3)
• CHRISTMAS IN PARADISE (#4)
• PUPPIES IN PARADISE (#5)
• HALLOWEEN IN PARADISE (#6)
• TREASURE IN PARADISE (#7)
• FIREWORKS IN PARADISE (#8)
About Kathi Daley
USA Today bestselling author, Kathi Daley, lives in beautiful Lake Tahoe with her husband Ken. When she isn’t writing, she likes spend time hiking the miles of desolate trails surrounding her home. She has authored more than seventy five books in eight series including: Zoe Donovan Cozy Mysteries, Whales and Tails Island Mysteries, Sand and Sea Hawaiian Mysteries, Tj Jensen Paradise Lake Series, Writer’s Retreat Southern Seashore Mysteries, Rescue Alaska Paranormal Mysteries, and Seacliff High Teen Mysteries. Find out more about her books at www.kathidaley.comStay up to dateNewsletter, The Daley Weekly http://eepurl.com/NRPDf
Kathi Daley Blog – publishes each Friday http://kathidaleyblog.com
Webpage – www.kathidaley.com
Facebook at Kathi Daley Books – www.facebook.com/kathidaleybooks
Kathi Daley Teen – www.facebook.com/kathidaleyteen
Kathi Daley Books Group Page – https://www.facebook.com/groups/569578823146850/
E-mail – kathidaley@kathidaley.com
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7278377.Kathi_Daley
Twitter at Kathi Daley@kathidaley – https://twitter.com/kathidaley
Amazon Author Page –https://www.amazon.com/author/kathidaley
BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kathi-daley
Pinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/kathidaley/
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October 3, 2017
SPOTLIGHT: BEWARE THE ORCHIDS (A Shady Acres Mystery) by Cynthia Hickey
Beware the Orchids (A Shady Acres Mystery)by Cynthia Hickey
This was such a fun cozy mystery. It had everything I liked.~FUONLYKNEW
This series shows a lot of potential. I liked the characters and the setting.~Laura’s Interests
Beware The Orchids is a 5 star start to a new series. I enjoyed the plot and the characters.~My Reading Journeys
Beware the Orchids (A Shady Acres Mystery)
Cozy Mystery1st in SeriesForget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged PublicationsRelease Date – February 4, 2016Paperback: 216 pagesISBN-13: 978-1944203061E-BOOK ASIN: B01BI6RAGG
SynopsisDitched at the altar, Shelby Hart tosses down her bouquet, quits her job, and accepts a position as gardener and event coordinator at an upscale retirement community. Her first day on the job results with a dead body in the greenhouse under the orchids and with her as the prime suspect!
Toss in a handsome handyman, quirky characters, and a flirtatious grandma and the fun never stops.
About the Author
Multi-published and Amazon and ECPA Best-Selling author Cynthia Hickey has sold over a million copies of her works since 2013. She has taught a Continuing Education class at the 2015 American Christian Fiction Writers conference, several small ACFW chapters and RWA chapters. You can find her on FB, twitter, and Goodreads, and is a contributor to Cozy Mystery Magazine blog and Suspense Sisters blog. She and her husband run the small press, Forget Me Not Romances, which includes some of the CBA’s best well-known authors. She lives in Arizona with her husband, one of their seven children, two dogs, one cat, and three box turtles. She has eight grandchildren who keep her busy and tell everyone they know that “Nana is a writer.”Website at www.cynthiahickey.com
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Cynthia-Hickey/e/B002W1MP2Q/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cynthia-Hickey-151333448227549/
Twitter: @cynthiahickey
Purchase Link
Amazon
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Special Post: THE MISPLACED DOG by Christa Nardi & Cassidy Salem
Spotlighting the newest in the Hannah and Tamar Mystery Series - The Misplaced Dog - on SALE this week for $0.99!Synopsis
A gorgeous addition places Playful Paws and its staff at the center of a mystery.
It’s love at first sight when Tamar meets Rusty – the newest resident at the local shelter where she volunteers. However, the arrival of the well-trained and affectionate dog coincides with the onset of suspicious and dangerous incidents involving the shelter and its staff. Is it a coincidence or is the dog the key to solving a major crime? In this latest addition to the Hannah and Tamar mystery series, the sisters are determined to find out.
AMAZON The Motivation Behind THE MISPLACED DOG
Both Cassidy and I are dog people - big dogs and little dogs. I especially prefer a lap-size dog, but I know a great dane who seems to think that description fits him. Growing up, my family had dogs when I was younger and then older. I don't really remember the dogs from the younger years. At some point, my mother decided to get a poodle as we all suffered from allergies and poodle dander is less of an irritant for many with allergies. Three generations of poodles and all spoiled like crazy.
As an adult, I wanted to get a dog, but many apartments didn't allow pets. At one point, some one I knew convinced me to go with her and help out at the local shelter. I took dogs for walks, cleaned out cages and runs, fed them and loved on them. And took a lot of antihistamines! I tried to adopt one terrier, but allergies got in the way.
The friend, who is now in charge of that shelter, spotted an ad for a poodle puppy and I got myself a puppy from a breeder who couldn't keep the pup or others. Cocoa has since gone over the Rainbow Bridge. A second dog, found abandoned in a park joined our family by default - a poodle mix. He and Cocoa kept each other coming and he is now with Cocoa.
Currently, we have three dogs - a purebred miniature poodle who was owner surrendered to a local rescue, a mini poodle mix found emaciated and rescued, and a lhasa apso-shitzu mix we inherited from one of our adult children (see below). They bring us much joy and are definitely counted as members of our family, even when they choose to sleep in odd places.
About the SeriesThe release of The Mysterious Package in October 2016 marked the launch of the Hannah and Tamar Mystery series, a new mystery series for young adults and teens written by Christa Nardi and Cassidy Salem. Mrs. Tedesco’s Missing Cookbook was released in April 2017. The third book in the Hannah and Tamar YA mystery series, The Misplaced Dog was released in August 2017. All three books are available for Kindle, in paperback, or through Kindle Unlimited. For more about the series, click here.
Amazon Reviews for The Misplaced Dog"Who knew that volunteering at Playful Paws would lead to discovering a murder had been committed! This is a cozy mystery for young adults. It is well written and the characters sparkle."
"Cute mystery for young teens. ... With such lovable characters, I can see this series becoming a best seller."
"Another great book for teens. I enjoyed reading about the sisters Hannah and Tamar. This time they have a new problem to solve. ... This is a fun, entertaining mystery!"
Read an excerpt from The Misplaced Dog
“I don’t get it. Why couldn’t you do your community service closer to home? I’m gonna be late for my study group at the library.”
The Playful Paws animal shelter was located on the eastern outskirts of Rosedale, Maryland. Only a 10 minute drive from Rosedale High, you’d think it was on the moon to judge from Hannah’s complaining.
“You know, I could drop you off at school and take the car the rest of the way myself. It’s not my fault you insist on driving.” Tamar knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Fat chance.” Hannah shook her head.
Tamar had recently passed her driving test and was itching to spend more time behind the wheel, even if it meant putting up with her sister’s non-stop criticisms. Hannah, on the other hand, wasn’t about to give up the driver’s seat.
The Bertolet’s green Subaru Outback pulled up in front of a dreary, red brick building in Rosedale’s industrial area. The parking lot was half full.
“Be ready to leave at 6:30 – I’ll text you when I get here. And don’t make me wait for you. Dad’ll be mad if we’re late.”
“Alright. I get it. Your wish is my command.” Tamar slammed the car door shut and headed into the building.
The ever-present scent of disinfectant and incessant barking filled the building. Playful Paws was just one of the animal shelters in the greater Baltimore area that housed cats and dogs in need of a good home. Temporary residents, the animals were kept in two rows of enclosures in an old warehouse.
Tamar stopped to greet two other volunteers, Zola and Jason, who were busy sweeping out the enclosures and filling water dishes.
“Hi, Tamar. How’s it going?” Zola was a second-year student at Towson University, where she was majoring in zoology. Tall and slim with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, she looked like a model.
“Great. So looking forward to our next adoption event.”
Jason watched the two young women but didn’t say anything. A senior at a different high school, Jason flashed Tamar a shy smile. It was his second year volunteering at the shelter, and he was almost never at a loss for words, except for when Tamar was around. Zola was amused by his obvious interest in the slender, dark haired teen who seemed oblivious to his admiration.
Tamar spoke softly to the residents as she walked down the long row of enclosures to reach the office in the back. This Paws shelter had a total of 18 enclosures, eight large enclosures on one side of the aisle, 10 smaller enclosures on the other. The center currently housed 19 dogs.
Two dogs were curled up together in the enclosure closest to the office. A bit of an odd couple – a small dachshund and a full grown Irish Setter. When the setter raised its head and gazed into Tamar’s eyes, her heart melted. She immediately spoke to the setter.
“Hey there, how’d you end up here?”
Joel Newman, the manager, stood in the doorway to the office. Passionate about animal welfare, the thirty-something year old worked as a free-lance designer to pay his bills. He always wore jeans and a t-shirt regardless of the weather, and today was no different. “I see our latest guests have made an impression.”
“Wow. That setter is gorgeous. Where did she come from? How could anyone surrender such a beautiful dog?”
“First, she is a he. Of course, it’s hard to tell the way he’s curled up right now. A lady found him wandering around the industrial area and dropped him off right before you got here. He has a collar but no tags. I was about to check to see if he’s chipped.”
“I’ll do it.”
Tamar reached for the handheld RFID reader. Although Maryland doesn’t require owners to have microchips implanted in their pets, the widespread practice makes it easier to identify and contact the owners of lost pets. As soon as she let herself into the enclosure, the dog sat upright and smiled; at least it looked like a smile to her.
She crouched down and held out her hand, waiting for the dog to come to her. He ambled over and smelled her hand before giving it a gentle nudge. She scratched him behind the ears and stroked his silky fur. He had a leather collar, his fur wasn’t matted, and he wasn’t shy.
The small brown dachshund was soon bouncing around her feet, demanding her share of attention. With the scanner tucked under her arm, Tamar tried to pet them both.
“You do realize you can’t play with them and scan the setter at the same time.” Joel chided her. “I think I’d better do it myself.”
Tamar shrugged.
Joel let himself in and took the scanner from her. Standing next to the setter, he commanded, “Sit.” And the dog sat. As he waved the scanner over the animal’s left shoulder, an indicator on the device flashed.
“Great, it looks like he has a chip.” He pressed a button on the device to save the reading and smiled. “Now, maybe we can find out who he belongs to.”
Back at the desk, Joel attempted to pull up the scanned data on his screen. “That’s odd.” A popup message indicated that no ID data had been found.
Tamar peered over his shoulder. “Must be an old or faulty chip.”
“What about the dachshund?”
“Already checked. No chip. No collar, either. Found her sitting outside when I got back from lunch. Well, since it looks like these two guys are going to be here for a while, we might as well give them names.”
Zola had walked over and heard the latter part of the conversation. “Let’s call the dachshund Ducky.”
“And the setter looks like a Rusty to me.” Tamar said.
“Sounds good to me. Let’s get their general descriptions, nicknames, and photographs into the database. I didn’t notice any immediate medical needs, still I’ll let Dr. Goodman know we have two new guests.” Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.
A gorgeous addition places Playful Paws and its staff at the center of a mystery.It’s love at first sight when Tamar meets Rusty – the newest resident at the local shelter where she volunteers. However, the arrival of the well-trained and affectionate dog coincides with the onset of suspicious and dangerous incidents involving the shelter and its staff. Is it a coincidence or is the dog the key to solving a major crime? In this latest addition to the Hannah and Tamar mystery series, the sisters are determined to find out.
AMAZON The Motivation Behind THE MISPLACED DOG
Both Cassidy and I are dog people - big dogs and little dogs. I especially prefer a lap-size dog, but I know a great dane who seems to think that description fits him. Growing up, my family had dogs when I was younger and then older. I don't really remember the dogs from the younger years. At some point, my mother decided to get a poodle as we all suffered from allergies and poodle dander is less of an irritant for many with allergies. Three generations of poodles and all spoiled like crazy.
As an adult, I wanted to get a dog, but many apartments didn't allow pets. At one point, some one I knew convinced me to go with her and help out at the local shelter. I took dogs for walks, cleaned out cages and runs, fed them and loved on them. And took a lot of antihistamines! I tried to adopt one terrier, but allergies got in the way.
The friend, who is now in charge of that shelter, spotted an ad for a poodle puppy and I got myself a puppy from a breeder who couldn't keep the pup or others. Cocoa has since gone over the Rainbow Bridge. A second dog, found abandoned in a park joined our family by default - a poodle mix. He and Cocoa kept each other coming and he is now with Cocoa.
Currently, we have three dogs - a purebred miniature poodle who was owner surrendered to a local rescue, a mini poodle mix found emaciated and rescued, and a lhasa apso-shitzu mix we inherited from one of our adult children (see below). They bring us much joy and are definitely counted as members of our family, even when they choose to sleep in odd places.
About the SeriesThe release of The Mysterious Package in October 2016 marked the launch of the Hannah and Tamar Mystery series, a new mystery series for young adults and teens written by Christa Nardi and Cassidy Salem. Mrs. Tedesco’s Missing Cookbook was released in April 2017. The third book in the Hannah and Tamar YA mystery series, The Misplaced Dog was released in August 2017. All three books are available for Kindle, in paperback, or through Kindle Unlimited. For more about the series, click here.
Amazon Reviews for The Misplaced Dog"Who knew that volunteering at Playful Paws would lead to discovering a murder had been committed! This is a cozy mystery for young adults. It is well written and the characters sparkle."
"Cute mystery for young teens. ... With such lovable characters, I can see this series becoming a best seller."
"Another great book for teens. I enjoyed reading about the sisters Hannah and Tamar. This time they have a new problem to solve. ... This is a fun, entertaining mystery!"
Read an excerpt from The Misplaced Dog
“I don’t get it. Why couldn’t you do your community service closer to home? I’m gonna be late for my study group at the library.”
The Playful Paws animal shelter was located on the eastern outskirts of Rosedale, Maryland. Only a 10 minute drive from Rosedale High, you’d think it was on the moon to judge from Hannah’s complaining.
“You know, I could drop you off at school and take the car the rest of the way myself. It’s not my fault you insist on driving.” Tamar knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Fat chance.” Hannah shook her head.
Tamar had recently passed her driving test and was itching to spend more time behind the wheel, even if it meant putting up with her sister’s non-stop criticisms. Hannah, on the other hand, wasn’t about to give up the driver’s seat.
The Bertolet’s green Subaru Outback pulled up in front of a dreary, red brick building in Rosedale’s industrial area. The parking lot was half full.
“Be ready to leave at 6:30 – I’ll text you when I get here. And don’t make me wait for you. Dad’ll be mad if we’re late.”
“Alright. I get it. Your wish is my command.” Tamar slammed the car door shut and headed into the building.
The ever-present scent of disinfectant and incessant barking filled the building. Playful Paws was just one of the animal shelters in the greater Baltimore area that housed cats and dogs in need of a good home. Temporary residents, the animals were kept in two rows of enclosures in an old warehouse.
Tamar stopped to greet two other volunteers, Zola and Jason, who were busy sweeping out the enclosures and filling water dishes.
“Hi, Tamar. How’s it going?” Zola was a second-year student at Towson University, where she was majoring in zoology. Tall and slim with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, she looked like a model.
“Great. So looking forward to our next adoption event.”
Jason watched the two young women but didn’t say anything. A senior at a different high school, Jason flashed Tamar a shy smile. It was his second year volunteering at the shelter, and he was almost never at a loss for words, except for when Tamar was around. Zola was amused by his obvious interest in the slender, dark haired teen who seemed oblivious to his admiration.
Tamar spoke softly to the residents as she walked down the long row of enclosures to reach the office in the back. This Paws shelter had a total of 18 enclosures, eight large enclosures on one side of the aisle, 10 smaller enclosures on the other. The center currently housed 19 dogs.
Two dogs were curled up together in the enclosure closest to the office. A bit of an odd couple – a small dachshund and a full grown Irish Setter. When the setter raised its head and gazed into Tamar’s eyes, her heart melted. She immediately spoke to the setter.
“Hey there, how’d you end up here?”
Joel Newman, the manager, stood in the doorway to the office. Passionate about animal welfare, the thirty-something year old worked as a free-lance designer to pay his bills. He always wore jeans and a t-shirt regardless of the weather, and today was no different. “I see our latest guests have made an impression.”
“Wow. That setter is gorgeous. Where did she come from? How could anyone surrender such a beautiful dog?”
“First, she is a he. Of course, it’s hard to tell the way he’s curled up right now. A lady found him wandering around the industrial area and dropped him off right before you got here. He has a collar but no tags. I was about to check to see if he’s chipped.”
“I’ll do it.”
Tamar reached for the handheld RFID reader. Although Maryland doesn’t require owners to have microchips implanted in their pets, the widespread practice makes it easier to identify and contact the owners of lost pets. As soon as she let herself into the enclosure, the dog sat upright and smiled; at least it looked like a smile to her.
She crouched down and held out her hand, waiting for the dog to come to her. He ambled over and smelled her hand before giving it a gentle nudge. She scratched him behind the ears and stroked his silky fur. He had a leather collar, his fur wasn’t matted, and he wasn’t shy.
The small brown dachshund was soon bouncing around her feet, demanding her share of attention. With the scanner tucked under her arm, Tamar tried to pet them both.
“You do realize you can’t play with them and scan the setter at the same time.” Joel chided her. “I think I’d better do it myself.”
Tamar shrugged.
Joel let himself in and took the scanner from her. Standing next to the setter, he commanded, “Sit.” And the dog sat. As he waved the scanner over the animal’s left shoulder, an indicator on the device flashed.
“Great, it looks like he has a chip.” He pressed a button on the device to save the reading and smiled. “Now, maybe we can find out who he belongs to.”
Back at the desk, Joel attempted to pull up the scanned data on his screen. “That’s odd.” A popup message indicated that no ID data had been found.
Tamar peered over his shoulder. “Must be an old or faulty chip.”
“What about the dachshund?”
“Already checked. No chip. No collar, either. Found her sitting outside when I got back from lunch. Well, since it looks like these two guys are going to be here for a while, we might as well give them names.”
Zola had walked over and heard the latter part of the conversation. “Let’s call the dachshund Ducky.”
“And the setter looks like a Rusty to me.” Tamar said.
“Sounds good to me. Let’s get their general descriptions, nicknames, and photographs into the database. I didn’t notice any immediate medical needs, still I’ll let Dr. Goodman know we have two new guests.” Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.
October 2, 2017
Blog Tour and Interview with TONYA KAPPES author of an AX TO GRIND: A Kenni Lowry Mystery
It's my pleasure to host and interview Tonya Kappes, author of AX TO GRIND today. Can you tell us a little about yourself? Hey girl!
Well…..I’m five foot four inches, brown hair, brown eyes, and…Oh…you mean my writer self?
Ha!
I’ve got over 45 published novels. I write for three different traditional publishers as well as self publishing. This year marks my SEVEN year anniversary with a traditional publisher and ten years self publishing! WOW!!
My novels are all southern and set in Kentucky with some humor and quit a few murders.
That is definitely a WOW! What sparked the idea to write this novel?
Ax To Grind is the third book in the Kenni Lowry Mystery Series. It’s about an author who died and left a manuscript that’s rumored to be a tell-all about all the people in the community. Of course her assistant is the only person who knows where the manuscript is and of course she’s murdered!
BUT the idea came to me after I’d done a mystery radio theater where there was a tell all book and people were getting murdered left and right over it.
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
No! I want them to sit back, put their feet up and enjoy some good old fashion murder solving while they laugh at these crazy characters.
What are your favorite things to do besides writing?
I have four sons in college. My husband and I love to visit with them. Since we are empty nesters now, we like to ride bikes and spend time cooking together.
How long have you been writing?
Over twelve years.
What inspires you to write?
My readers are my inspiration. I was a child therapist before the book gig and I loved that job. In some ways it was a lot easier than writing! My main why is for ONE reader to escape from their daily grind into one of my books just long enough to forget what’s been going on in their life.
Who designed the book cover?
The publisher, but they do let me have input.
Can you give us a sneak peek on what you are working on now?
Though this is the third novel in the series, it’s a ten book deal with the publisher and I’m currently working on the sixth book.
So, I guess that means we can look forward to the fourth in the near future...
What is the most fascinating/ craziest thing you have done in the name of research?
Nothing so crazy, but I did take a citizens arrest and citizens police academy class. I also took some baking lessons and cake decorating classes for a new Southern Bakers Mystery Series coming out in 2018.
Thank you Tonya, now let's share the information on AX TO GRIND:
Ax To Grind (A Kenni Lowry Mystery)
Cozy Mystery3rd in SeriesHenery Press (September 19, 2017)Paperback: 256 pagesISBN-13: 978-1635112474E-Book ASIN: B0731M7RRM
Synopsis
Southerners keep their secrets swept under the rug, but what happens when that rug goes up for sale?
Bestselling author Berlye Stone, the most famous citizen to ever come out of Cottonwood, Kentucky, has died and put all her worldly possessions up for auction, but not without leaving one more manuscript behind. A hidden tell-all about Cottonwood that’s got more gossip than a ladies’ luncheon.
When Beryle’s assistant turns up with an ax in her back and the only witness is in a coma, Sheriff Kenni Lowry reckons someone in town will do anything to keep the manuscript from seeing the light of day. Her poppa’s ghost returns to help piece together the life of the Beryle he once knew, but his memory’s a little foggy, and any misstep could cause them a world of trouble. With the help of Deputy Finn Vincent, can Kenni sort through the secrets buried in Beryle’s books, or will this be her final chapter?
Purchase Links:
Amazon B&N kobo iTunes
About the Author
For years, USA Today bestselling author Tonya Kappes has been publishing numerous mystery and romance titles with unprecedented success. She is famous not only for her hilarious plot lines and quirky characters, but her tremendous marketing efforts that have earned her thousands of followers and a devoted street team of fans.
Sign up for her newsletter on her website at Tonyakappes.com.
Visit Tonya:
Facebook at Author Tonya Kappes,
https://www.facebook.com/authortonyakappes
Kappes Krew Street Team
https://www.facebook.com/groups/208579765929709/
Webpage
tonyakappes.com
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4423580.Tonya_Kappes
https://twitter.com/tonyakappes11
https://www.pinterest.com/tonyakappes/
September 26, 2017
New Release Party and Back to School Giveaway
Carry Me Home Release Day Party!
CARRY ME HOME is AVAILABLE TODAY for $0.99!
To celebrate the release of her latest novel, Carry Me Home, author Jessica Therrien is hosting a HUUUGE BACK TO SCHOOL BOOK GIVEAWAY! The giveaway includes nearly 50 books, all from different authors. Keep scrolling for prize info and how to enter the giveaway.
~*PRIZES*~PRIZE #1 (5 winners)WINNERS of this prize will take home one of FIVE 10 Book Bundles.
*Each 10 book bundle is guaranteed to have at least 1 paperback book.
PRIZE #2A signed hardcover ofCARRY ME HOME
by Jessica Therrien
PRIZE #3A signed hardcover ofOPPRESSION (Children of the Gods #1)
by Jessica Therrien
~*HOW TO ENTER*~*AKA...the hugest RaffleCopter EVER*Support an author by subscribing to their newsletter, liking them on Facebook or following their Twitter account. You can literally follow each author and EARN UP TO 45 CHANCES TO WIN!
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September 25, 2017
Blog Tour and Book Review: IN IT FOR THE MONEY A Blu Carraway Mystery #1 by David Burnsworth
In It For The Money by David Burnsworth Book Tour + Giveaway September 11 – October 11, 2017Genre: MysteryPublished by: Henery PressPublication Date: September 12th 2017Number of Pages: 278ISBN: 9781635112436Series:A Blu Carraway Mystery, #1Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Synopsis:
Lowcountry Private Investigator Blu Carraway needs a new client. He’s broke and the tax man is coming for his little slice of paradise. But not everyone appreciates his skills. Some call him a loose cannon. Others say he’s a liability. All the ex-Desert Storm Ranger knows is his phone hasn’t rung in quite a while. Of course, that could be because it was cut off due to delinquent payments.Lucky for him, a client does show up at his doorstep—a distraught mother with a wayward son. She’s rich and her boy’s in danger. Sounds like just the case for Blu. Except nothing about the case is as it seems. The jigsaw pieces—a ransom note, a beat-up minivan, dead strippers, and a missing briefcase filled with money and cocaine—do not make a complete puzzle. The first real case for Blu Carraway Investigations in three years goes off the rails.
And that’s the way he prefers it to be.
Review
Blu is leery of taking Cynthia Rhodes' case and looking for her son Jeremy, but bottom line - he needs the money. He reminds himself of this as he tries to approach this in a straightforward, find the son, manner and hits lots of curves. His friend/some times partner, Crome, comes on board as well as two young women with the local press and things just keep getting complicated.
Blu doesn't live fancy and the descriptions of the animals that favor his piece of land add to the feel of his existence. A far cry from Cynthia Rhodes, and even from his would be lady friend Billie. Crome pays even less attention to rules, but then nothing is as it seems. The quirky characters and twists, not to mention Blu's life philosophies, keep the story moving and add a unique quality to the mystery.
For sure, if you like southern style, down to earth mysteries with quirky characters, you will enjoy IN IT FOR THE MONEY.This is identified as Book 1 in the Blu Carraway Mystery series; however, Blu is introduced in BLU HEAT (published in March 2017) with a spin off of Burnsworth's Brack Pelton Mystery series - possibly a prequel to IN IT FOR THE MONEY, but I haven't read that one - yet.
FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book in the hopes that I would post an honest review as part of this blog tour. This has not affected the content of my review in any way.
Read an excerpt:
Chapter One Lowcountry, South Carolina, early June, Thursday morning
The old rotary phone sitting on the desk refused to ring. No matter how much Blu Carraway wanted it to. He looked out the window of his makeshift office at the surrounding marsh and sighed. Crumpled up in his right hand was the latest tax assessment, in his left was an electronic cigarette. Without thinking, he took a hit off the vaporizer, which replaced Camels as his only vice. Well, that and pirated satellite TV.
And still the receiver remained silent.
One more good job.
It was all he needed.
Then Charleston County would be happy for another year, and he’d get to keep his little island home. Just. One. Good. Job.
The hula girl on his desk a Desert Storm buddy had given him when he first hung out his PI shingle bobbled at him as if to say, “How long did you think you could keep this up, tough guy?”
He swatted her off the desk with the tax bill. “At least another year, Dollie.”
As the plastic figure skittered across the old plank flooring, Blu heard the sound of tires on his crushed shell drive. With the sole air-conditioning being a ceiling fan and open windows, he heard everything happening on his little slice of paradise. But he suspected his tenure there was on borrowed time. The house and land, which had been in the family for next to forever, were his free and clear. Except nothing was free and clear. He still had his yearly rent payment to the county, which seemed to think nine acres of mostly sand and marsh with a small herd of free-roaming scraggly horses was worth one helluva lot. Even though they neglected to consider it relevant enough to route the mosquito sprayers anywhere near the place.
A black Mercedes, the new big one, sliced between two live oaks and rolled to a stop beside his ancient Land Cruiser. Blu watched as the driver’s door opened and a man in a suit and tie exited the car. Just as Blu was about to run outside to greet him, he noticed the man walk around the expensive German machine, open the rear door, and extend a hand to assist whomever was in the backseat.
A pale white hand grasped the driver’s. After a moment, a woman with shoulder-length gray hair and sunglasses stood beside the car as the driver shut her door. She was not unattractive—in a wealthy, snobby kind of way. Her pose accentuated thin, but not frail, limbs and a torso hinting at personal trainer visits. Her crème-colored sleeveless blouse, tailored slacks, and shoes his daughter had once told him were called wedges exuded confidence. The woman held what looked like an expensive pocketbook.
Blu walked outside and approached the pair. “Can I help you?”
The woman, who was more attractive up close with high cheekbones, a small nose Blu guessed was natural, and a perfectly- proportioned neck adorned with modest pearls, said, “I’m looking for a Mr. Carraway.”
“You found him.”
“Good.” She turned to the driver, who upon closer inspection had an athletic build with a slightly visible shoulder rig beneath his suit coat. “Told you this was the place.”
He said, “Yes, ma’am.”
It didn’t sound like the man was convinced.
Two of Blu’s horses, at least he called them his because they wouldn’t leave his property even though there was no fencing, clomped around the house and approached. These were the curious ones from the herd, and not the brightest. He’d named them Dink and Doofus.
The woman’s mouth opened in surprise.
Her driver, apparently startled, reached inside his jacket where the shoulder rig was.
Blu said, “Don’t mind these two. They’re harmless. But if you see a black stud, best keep your distance.”
The woman watched the horses approach. Dink, the brown male with a tangled mane, lowered his head and sniffed. Doofus, his coat best described as dirty snow, lumbered up to the woman. In a past life, these two must have been canines.
Blu said, “Come on, guys.”
As if the horses just noticed he was there, they both raised their heads and snorted. Doofus gave his mane a quick shake.
The woman reached out and touched Dink on his nose.
The horse granted her hand a big lick before she could retract it.
Dink and Doofus didn’t approach just anybody. Blu had recognized this trait in them a long time ago. They liked this woman. Or else they just thought she had a treat for them.
Blu said, “What can I do for you fine folks?”
“Mr. Carraway,” the woman said, maneuvering around Dink and offering a business card. “I’m Cynthia Rhodes.”
Blu held the card. “That’s exactly what this says.” It also gave a Charleston, South Carolina address. South Battery, no less. Big money.
Real big money.
She said, “Yes, well, I’d like to talk to you about employing your services.”
Tapping the card on his open palm, he said, “I appreciate your effort to get here, Ms. Rhodes. I would have gladly met you somewhere closer to Charleston. Saved you the forty-minute trip.”
The driver stepped forward and the horses retreated to the other side of the vehicles. “There must be something wrong with your phone.”
An image of a stack of unpaid bills came to mind, specifically the one marked “third and final notice.” Blu didn’t reply.
Cynthia Rhodes said, “Is there someplace we can sit and talk?”
Coming to his senses, Blu said, “Of course. I’m sorry. I don’t normally receive clients out here. Please come this way.” He ran through a mental checklist: the office was one chair short for this group, the desk was a mess, the hula girl was on the floor, and the bathroom hadn’t been cleaned in, well, he couldn’t remember when.
Ms. Rhodes and her driver followed him, all of them crunching on the shell drive, up the porch stairs, and into the office he’d created out of the living room of the one-story bungalow his great- great-grandfather had built.
His guests didn’t comment on the disheveled appearance.
The driver pulled out the single client chair in front of Blu’s desk and Cynthia Rhodes sat.
Blu made an assumption the man would prefer to remain standing seeing as how his role could best be described as armed chauffer. Walking around his desk, being sure to step over the hula girl on the floor, and noticing the crumpled tax bill flittering in the wind of the ceiling fan, Blu sat on the ripped cushion of his ancient captain’s chair. It gave a long, un-oiled squeak. “Okay, Ms. Rhodes, tell me why you think you need my services.”
Cynthia Rhodes removed her sunglasses and held them in her lap.
She looked at him with deep blue eyes. “Mr. Carraway, I have a situation I’m not sure how to handle.”
The horses’ intuition and this woman’s bold and transparent acknowledgement of uncertainty regarding her situation had him trusting her almost immediately. Well, those reasons and the big tax bill he had to pay.
“Can I get either of you something to drink?” he asked. “I’ve got tap water or cold—I mean iced—coffee.” Cold was a more accurate statement, but he didn’t think it sounded sophisticated enough.
Cynthia Rhodes said, “No, thank you.”
Meeting her deep blue gaze, he guessed she was mid-fifties, about ten years his senior. He asked, “How can I help?”
“I was told you could be trusted.”
“By whom?” he asked.
“Adam Kincaid.”
With the name, Blu immediately understood the depth of her need, if not the specifics.
She continued. “He said you got his daughter back for him when those awful men took her.”
“More or less.” Kincaid’s daughter was returned to her father intact, physically if not emotionally, without paying any ransom. And the world had lost a half-dozen kidnappers. “Has your daughter been kidnapped?”
With a tight-lipped smile and a slight headshake, she said, “I have a son.”
He said, “What is it you think I can do for you?”
“He’s missing.”
“How do you know?”
She looked down. “My son and I have a strained relationship, to say the least. The only way I know he’s okay is because he makes withdrawals from his trust fund.”
Blu said, “He hasn’t made any in a while?”
“Two weeks.” She looked at him. “I was told you handle unique situations. That they were your specialty.”
Her driver smirked.
Blu said, “You don’t want the police involved?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, not yet.”
He sat back. “What would you like me to do?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, her voice breaking for the first time.
“You’d like me to find him?”
“Yes.”
It sounded more like a question.
He said, “I can do that.”
“My son is a sweet boy. He likes art—painting. If something’s happened to him, I’m not sure what I’d do.”
Blu had a hunch the real reason she was here was about to surface.
She said, “Mr. Kincaid told me you made the men who took his daughter pay for their sins.”
“You think someone did something to your son?”
Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “I hope not.”
Blu shook his head. “Anything that may or may not have happened in Mexico was a by-product of the goal of the job, which was to get his daughter back.” It was a true statement, but not really the truth.
Cynthia Rhodes reached into her pocketbook, removed a check, and handed it to Blu.
Chapter Two
The amount written in neat, precise cursive would do a lot more than just pay his property tax for the year. He handed the check back, trying hard not to show any reluctance to do so. “I don’t take on blood jobs.” Another true statement which wasn’t the truth.
Sometimes they ended up that way—bloody.
Her eyes were wide. “But you’re my last hope.”
Blu laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the desk. “That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.” With a slight head jerk, he motioned to her driver. “Why not send trigger-happy Rick, here?”
Blu already knew the answer. The man was mostly show. He appeared to be in shape. But he did not have a killer’s gaze.
She looked at her driver who shifted his weight between his feet as if he were nervous.
Holding a hand up, Blu said, “You don’t want to have things too close to home. I understand. Better to hire some schmuck and make him do the heavy lifting.”
“You’re mistaken,” she said. “I heard you were the best.”
“I am the best,” he said. “Can’t you tell by the crowds of folks lining up for my services?”
With a smile breaking the tension in the lines of her face, she said, “Adam also said you had an odd sense of humor.”
Blu didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet. Filling voids in conversation only gave away too much.
Cynthia Rhodes filled in the void for him. “If it isn’t enough money, I’ll double it.”
The Kincaid job had netted enough to keep Carraway Investigations solvent for three years, with only a modest contribution from an insurance or surveillance job here and there. And lately, some day laboring. The offer in front of him was eerily similar. Of course, Blu and his partner, a biker and fellow Ranger named Mick Crome, had barely made it out of Mexico alive with Jennifer Kincaid. Blu was three years wiser now, and he enjoyed the cliché “getting older by the minute” more than the one about “being worm food.”
He ignored one of his golden rules: Decisions made under duress were usually tainted. “Okay. I’ll look into it. But if all you want is a trigger puller, I’m out.”
And then he lied to himself about it not being because he needed the money.
After Cynthia Rhodes signed a standard, boiler-plate contract, which had jammed Blu’s ancient printer twice in the process, and gave him a picture of her son, she and her driver left. Happy to be working again, Blu headed into town, taking the decade-old photo of Jeremy Rhodes with him, the most recent one his mother had. It showed a good-looking, normal kid with clear eyes and a boyish smile and dimples.
The drive into Charleston gave Blu time to think. A few things about this new job already bothered him. First: Cynthia Rhodes, the kid’s supposed mother, didn’t have a current picture of her son. Second: For all he knew, Jeremy could be trying to run away from dear old mom.
Cynthia Rhodes had no idea where her son was and couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen or spoken with him. When Blu asked about drug use, she seemed flippant. All she knew was Jeremy had gone to the College of Charleston and majored in Liberal Arts, graduating two years ago.
Frankly, if it weren’t for the money and his lack of it, Blu wouldn’t have been so eager to take the job. The fact she’d doubled the offer erased any hesitation he might have had.
When he turned onto King Street, he found a parking spot at a meter in front of Willie’s Music Shop. He put some change in the meter and walked inside. His friend Willie Day had owned and run the place since the eighties, weathering Hurricane Hugo and urban blight. Willie always seemed to know what was going on no matter what Blu asked about. After Willie had passed on to the other side not too long after 9/11, his daughter took over, running the store during the city’s current rejuvenation. And, like her father, she had connections all over town.
Billie Day stood beside a wall display of Fender guitars, talking to a very early twenty-something white male. A black tank top and a short crop of hair exposed Billie’s light brown arms and neck. Her jeans accentuated curves that always put Blu in a good mood. She gave him a slight nod but kept her main focus on the customer.
Blu rotated his sunglasses to the top of his head and pretended to browse while he waited for Billie to make the sale. Desert Storm had done a number on his hearing, but he distinctly heard the sum “thousand even” and silently congratulated Billie.
After the kid had paid and walked out with his purchase protected in a nice case she’d talked him into buying, Billie walked over to Blu.
With hands on nice hips, she said, “What can I help you with?”
What she said was a little more formal than Blu had been looking for in a greeting. Apparently, Billie was more than a little pissed at him for not calling. It had been six months, right about the time his tax situation derailed him.
He said, “Hi, Billie.”
“Hi, Billie? Is that what you’re going with?”
“Um—”
She put a finger to his lips. “Don’t even try to dig yourself out of this one, Blu.”
He looked into powerful, deep brown eyes and almost winced.
Her gaze lightened. “Why didn’t you just tell me your tax troubles?”
Blu looked down. He should have assumed she knew.
She lifted his chin. “Friends help each other. They don’t shut each other out.”
“It’s my problem to fix,” he said.
“But it doesn’t have to be, baby. You made it so.”
A lot of thoughts ran through his stubborn head. Like how someone five years his junior had it so much more together than he did. And how someone could care about him so much after all these years.
He said, “I’ve got another job now. A good one. Hell, the retainer alone is enough to pay off Charleston County and then some.”
“You’ve got a job now, huh? Is that why you’re here?”
“Not the only reason.”
She patted his chest. “Before we get to that, you’ve got to make this up to me.”
“I—”
With a nudge from her hip, she said, “I don’t want to hear excuses. I want you to take me out and treat me proper. Everything has a price. My price for being ignored is a date. Take it or leave it.”
He’d always loved this woman. The timing was never right. He’d come back from the war all screwed up and she’d just turned eighteen—bad timing.
By the time he’d gotten his head screwed back on straight, she was twenty. And he married someone else—bad timing.
When he’d been about to get a divorce, his wife turned up pregnant. They stuck it out another five years before ending it just in time for Billie to marry someone—bad timing.
And then Billie divorced, she and Blu were set to be together, and his money problems started—bad timing.
But now he had this new job, his money problems abated, and she was still available. He just hoped he wouldn’t mess it up this time. So, in answer to her request for a date as restitution for him being a complete moron, he said, “Okay. I’ll take it.”
“Good,” she said. “Pick me up at eight.”
He thought about going ahead and asking her if she knew Jeremy Rhodes, but he decided not to push his luck. She wasn’t his only source, just his favorite.
He smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek.
She said, “Are you going to call Crome?”
Chapter Three
Blu stepped out of the music store and onto the broken sidewalk of upper King Street. The nice shops had been encroaching this direction for some time and had almost made it. Willie’s Music had always been a novelty. Now it was a novelty on prime real estate. And Billie had politely turned down several decent offers to sell. Blu couldn’t blame her. The business held its own, and she liked what she did.
Her asking if he was going to call Crome meant she was more than a little concerned about the job.
Mick Crome, his sometime business partner, had vanished with his half of what was left of the fee after expenses from the payout of the Kincaid job. The last Blu heard, Crome had ridden his Harley all the way down to Key West and hadn’t come up for air since. And not a day went by that Blu didn’t think about his friend.
He’d give Crome a day or two. The guy had a knack for showing up at the right time. If he hadn’t returned to Charleston by then and things got out of hand, Blu would make a few calls.
The picture Cynthia Rhodes gave him of her son didn’t help as he would have to assimilate what Jeremy looked like now, most likely factoring in extensive drug use as an age agent.
What he needed was a current picture, at least one more current than ten years. Because he’d let his cell phone plan expire when he ran out of money, he bought a prepaid “burner” phone at a drug store. The teenage girl who rang up his purchase helped him set it up and he gave her a five-dollar tip.
Using the cigarette lighter in the Land Cruiser to power the phone, he dialed a number from memory.
It went to voicemail.
When prompted to leave a message, he said, “Gladys, this is Blu Carraway. I know it’s been a while, but I could use a favor. Call me when you can.” He left the burner’s number and closed the phone.
With that accomplished, some theme music was required. He selected a cassette and loaded it in the Land Cruiser’s tape deck. After a moment, the bass riff from “The Waiting Room” by the punk band Fugazi played through the speakers—what a band.
The phone vibrated on his leg. He turned down the music volume and answered the call.
Gladys said, “Certainly has been a while, Mr. Blu Carraway. What lowlife are you after now?”
Ten years ago, about the same time the picture of Jeremy Rhodes was taken, Blu intervened in a domestic abuse situation. Gladys found him through a friend and tried to hire him. Apparently, none of the other local private investigators would bother to talk with her, much less take her job. At the time, her husband was taking out his frustrations for being a bakery delivery man on Gladys. When Blu found out she worked at the DMV, he handled the job pro bono, figuring the connection was worth it. In the end, a police investigation confirmed her husband had died while trying to beat her again—a clear case of self-defense as far as anyone was concerned. Blu didn’t lose any sleep over it when the police found the knife sticking out of the man’s neck with Gladys’ prints on it. In Blu’s mind, any man who struck a woman in anger deserved no less. Gladys had done the deed, but only after Blu suggested she already had enough evidence to prove self-defense. He’d been a stone’s throw away when it happened, which most likely also encouraged and empowered the woman to take action.
And Gladys, with her connection to every licensed driver and registered vehicle in the state of South Carolina, had indeed proved helpful. The Driver’s Privacy Protection Act of ’92 protected a driver’s information from getting outside the appropriate government agencies. But it didn’t apply to licensed PI’s like Blu who had a wide range of access. Through experience, Blu found an inside source usually trumped his own sleuthing skills. With her abusive husband gone, Gladys’ life had changed dramatically for the better. He knew she would happily keep returning the favor.
He said, “I need a photo of someone.”
“Let me get something to write with.” A pause, then, “Okay, shoot.”
He gave the name and approximate age of Jeremy Rhodes.
She said, “I get off work in two hours. Buy me a milkshake at the Chick-fil-A down the street.”
“You got it.” He ended the call.
With time to kill, Blu had two things in mind. One was to research exactly who Cynthia Rhodes was. And the second was to squeeze in a workout at the gym. His first stop was the local library where he signed onto a computer and looked up his new client. Normally he would have done this before accepting the job, but her check was awfully big.
Cynthia Rhodes was indeed a Charleston socialite. She managed a charitable organization named Lowcountry Second Chances and booked fundraisers all year long. A major benefactor for the charity was a shelter in North Charleston.
Once divorced, her ex-husband being one Jack Rhodes who had passed away five years ago from a heart attack, Jeremy was their only child. Jack had been a big deal in lowcountry real estate up until his passing.
Jeremy Rhodes, unlike his mother, had done a good job of flying under the radar. There was quite a bit on both of his parents on the web, but nothing about him except a few notifications of past showings of his artwork at some of the local coffee shops.
Being a private investigator wasn’t in and of itself difficult work. Blu felt he had to keep his mind sharp and be able to think on his feet. And he had sources providing a lot of what kept him ahead of things. But it was also physical—he had to stay in shape. Quitting smoking, or at least switching to vapor, had several benefits, one being he could no longer afford it anymore anyway. And it also helped him breathe better during workouts.
With the preliminary research complete, Blu went to the gym. He kept a bag of gym clothes and gear in his truck, because he never knew when he’d get the opportunity. While his cardio had gotten a lot better since he switched to vapor, he still preferred the weights and got a good hour set in. Even with his money troubles, the gym membership would have been one of the last things to go.
Gladys faced a pink-colored milkshake in a booth in the restaurant when Blu sat across from her. A lot of people spent a lot of money to fight against looking their age. Gladys was not one of them. Past fifty, she had thick strawberry-framed glasses, gray hair, and a healthy dose of paunch. She had a few more years before she’d have her time in with the state and she could retire on a full ride. When that happened, Blu would need another source. Gladys made it easier than having to deal with a lot of red tape, even though he also knew a lot of cops.
She sipped from the straw and slid a nine-by-twelve-inch envelope to him. Her short, plump body was mostly hidden by the table. “They know me here. I told them you’d be paying. You gotta go to the counter.”
Blu stood, went to the counter, ordered a sweet tea, and paid for their drinks. He got his tea, sat across from Gladys again, picked up the envelope, and slipped out two sheets of paper, one an enlarged driver’s license picture and the other a vehicle registration for a late model Volkswagen Jetta. Listed was the South Battery address on the business card his mother had given Blu.
Gladys remained quiet.
Unlike the clean-cut boy in the photo Cynthia had given him, in this picture Jeremy Rhodes had black hair shaved on one side of his head with the length on top combed over to the other like an upside down mop. It contrasted with pale white skin like his mother’s—obviously not a beach dweller. He also had quite a few piercings: ears, nose, eyebrows, and both cheeks.
Blu pushed the photo back into the envelope. “Thanks.”
“Kid looks like a degenerate, you ask me.”
He hadn’t asked her, but let it go. “How’s your mom?” Last time he spoke with her, she was in the hospital.
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Gladys nodded but didn’t reply. Aside from the results of her lethargic and static lifestyle, she really did look much different from when she first walked into his office. Her usual grumpy demeanor aside, he knew she’d become a new woman, quite content with who she was. With her newfound freedom from the abusive husband came what he’d observed to be inner strength.
She said, “One more thing. I checked around. The car’s in impound. Been there a week.”
“Thanks,” he said, “Anything I can do for you?”
She finished another round of slurping, licked her lips, and swallowed. “Nah. I’m good.”
Blu slid out of the booth and was ready to roll when she said, “They got good sandwiches here.”
His first thought was she didn’t want to eat alone. Even though he wanted to get back to the job, he said, “Why don’t we get something to eat? I’m buying.”
She smiled for the first time. “Okay by me.”
After they ate chicken sandwiches and waffle fries, and he listened to her complain about her sister, Blu left the ray of sunshine that was Gladys and drove back into the city.
He wanted to check out the kid’s car, and he knew someone who would give him access, but it was too late in the day. First thing in the morning, he’d make a call.
The feeling Cynthia Rhodes wasn’t telling him everything weighed heavy on him. Gladys had said Jeremy Rhodes looked like a degenerate. It wasn’t his call to make, but Blu wouldn’t hire the kid to pick shells on the beach, much less do anything requiring responsibility. If he was alive, what was the kid doing for money? It wasn’t as if he’d ever had to work for anything.
At suppertime, still an hour before he had to leave to meet Billie, Blu filled the water trough for the horses with a garden hose. His grandfather had made the first mistake a long time ago when he gave one of the animals an apple. Since then, the herd of Carolina Marsh Tackeys, a breed indigenous to the lowcountry, had slowly become family, and caring for them had grown from a novelty to a chore. His father and Cuban mother had continued the practice while they lived there as well. The horses still fed mostly on the vegetation of the property and took care of themselves, the exception being when it froze. During the one week a year it got frigid in the lowcountry, Blu bought a few bales of hay to carry them through. Trying to get them into a barn would be a waste of time. They’d sooner trample him than be corralled.
By the time he finished and put the water hose away, he heard tires on the crushed shell drive.
“Twice in one day,” he said to no one in particular.
He didn’t know how prophetic the statement really was until he watched Cynthia Rhodes’ shiny black Mercedes cut between the trees and pull up next to his old Land Cruiser, as before.
The driver got out of the Mercedes but didn’t open the rear door. Instead, he marched toward Blu. Same dark suit and tie and bright white shirt. He wore sunglasses, just like Blu. It looked like Trigger Rick had come alone this time.
Dink and Doofus kept their distance.
When Trigger Rick got close, Blu said, “Howdy.”
The man didn’t look happy. But then again, he didn’t look happy the first time Blu had met him either. “Howdy yourself, Carraway.” He thumb-pointed to himself. “I could do the job. I’m not sure why Cynthia thought she needed the help of some washed- up dick who hasn’t had a real job in three years.”
Blu didn’t reply. What was there to say?
Trigger Rick continued. “The reason I’m here is because Cynthia wanted a way to be in contact with you.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed over a smartphone.
“I don’t like those things,” Blu lied. More like he couldn’t afford a smartphone. The service plans required monthly payments, something he hadn’t been in a financial position to commit to in a while.
“Like I care.’”
Blu held it out for the driver to take back. “Still, I can’t accept it.”
“You can and you will.” He retreated to the car. “You think I’m going to go back and tell Cynthia I didn’t give it to you?”
Blu watched the man start the car, turn around, and drive away. Then he looked down at the phone in his hand. It was a nice iPhone.
While he was examining it, the device vibrated in his hands. He almost dropped it.
The name “Cynthia Rhodes” displayed on the screen.
Blu touched the green answer button and held it up to his ear.
“Mr. Carraway?” It was her voice.
“Yes.”
“Good. I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, but I wanted to make sure we had a way of communicating.”
Blu watched as Dink, Doofus, and a mare named Molly Mae drank from the trough. He said, “I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t accept this.”
“I insist.”
“What I mean is I need to get myself one for my business anyway.”
“Consider it a part of our deal and a bonus afterward. It’s unlocked, and I’ve paid forward enough to last the rest of the year.”
He realized he wouldn’t have to worry about getting the landline reconnected. It showed several bars of coverage even on his own slice of paradise located forty minutes away from anywhere else.
She said, “I also managed to get the last four digits to spell out ‘blue.’”
“Oh.”
“That’s okay, isn’t it?” she asked. “I mean, you can use it as a marketing gimmick if you want. You know, like ‘don’t feel blue, call Blue.’”
He wondered how long she’d worked on that one. Hopefully not too long. He decided not to correct her spelling of his name. “I really appreciate the gesture, Ms. Rhodes.”
“Call me Cynthia.”
Her driver had called her Cynthia. How close were they?
He didn’t mention that either. Instead, he said, “Okay. And you can call me Blu.”
“Good.”
“Cynthia?”
“Yes?”
“How long has your driver been working for you?”
“Rick? Around two years. Why?”
If Blu handled this poorly, it could jeopardize being able to continue calling her Cynthia. He said, “Why isn’t he looking for your son? I can tell he believes he’s capable.”
After a pause, she said, “Mr. Carraway. That is precisely why I hired you.”
The call ended.
And Blu wondered if he could still call her Cynthia.
***
Excerpt from In It For The Money by David Burnsworth. Copyright © 2017 by David Burnsworth. Reproduced with permission from David Burnsworth. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
David Burnsworth became fascinated with the Deep South at a young age. After a degree in Mechanical Engineering from the University of Tennessee and fifteen years in the corporate world, he made the decision to write a novel. He is the author of both the Brack Pelton and the Blu Carraway Mystery Series. Having lived in Charleston on Sullivan’s Island for five years, the setting was a foregone conclusion. He and his wife call South Carolina home. Catch Up With Our Author On:
Website , Goodreads , Twitter , & Facebook !Giveaway:This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for David Burnsworth. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway begins on September 11 and runs through October 12, 2017.a Rafflecopter giveaway
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