Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Queen of Second Chances by D.M. Barr

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE QUEEN OF SECOND CHANCES by D.M. Barr on the Providence Book Promotions Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Book Description

A tale of a young woman who champions seniors’ hopes and dreams while challenging their worst enemies: regret and abuse.

Carraway (Carra) Quinn is a free-spirited English major confronting an unreceptive job market. Desperate for cash, she reluctantly agrees to her realtor stepmother’s marketing scheme: infiltrate a local senior center as a recreational aide, ingratiate herself with the members, and convince them to sell their homes.

Jay Prentiss is a straitlaced, overprotective elder attorney whose beloved but mentally fragile Nana attends that center.

More creative than mercenary, Carra convinces Jay to finance innovations to the Center’s antiquated programming. Her ingenuity injects new enthusiasm among the seniors, inspiring them to confront and reverse the regrets of their past. An unlikely romance develops.

But when Carra’s memoir-writing class prompts Jay’s Nana to skip town in search of a lost love, the two take off on a cross-country, soul-searching chase that will either deepen their relationship or tear them apart forever.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57993640-the-queen-of-second-chances?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=FtE4CAdHcz&rank=1

The Queen of Second Chances

Genre: Contemporary Sweet Romance, Romcom, Chicklit
Published by: Champagne Book Group
Publication Date: June 7th 2021
Number of Pages: 204
ISBN: 2940165375545 (ASIN B094GFWG3K)

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

THE QUEEN OF SECOND CHANCES by D.M Barr is a heartwarming standalone contemporary romance/comedy love story packed with memorable characters and humorous dialog. Besides the lovable hero and heroine, there are several seniors to fall in love with as well as canine companions.

Carraway “Carra” Quinn graduated as an English major who wants to write novels and is having difficulty paying her share of the bills where she lives with her best-friend. Her stepmother has pulled her and her sister into a scheme to infiltrate senior facilities to convince them to sell their homes for the equity and downsize. Cara is working at the local senior center as a recreational assistant. She starts a memoir writing class and as she comes to know the seniors and their stories, she refuses to use them to pull herself out of her financial straits.

Jay Prentiss is a successful attorney dealing with the elderly who has political aspirations. Jay’s beloved nana attends the senior center where Carra is working. While Jay is a major contributor, Carra wants to show him it is not the facilities that need his money, but the individual seniors that could use their help and attention.

Carra and Jay both have personal traumas from their childhoods which effect their present lives. Can the two work together to overcome their pasts and get a second chance at love?

This story is a perfectly balanced mix of romance, love, empathy, humor, crazy situations and heart. The romance is realistically paced as Carra and Jay come to know each other and the differences in their styles in helping the seniors. Their past traumas in their childhoods also are dealt with in believable ways. The seniors in the story are people you would find at any senior center. They are not overly quirky or strange, but real people who still have so much to live for and offer. I wanted to adopt them all. Last, but not least there are two canines in this story and having adopted my own AmStaff, I was so happy to see how the author depicted this one. The sex scenes are behind closed doors and not until later in the story at an appropriate time. This is an all-around enjoyable read!

I highly recommend this contemporary romance/comedy!

***

Excerpt

Chapter One

I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. He came barreling into the recreational center at SALAD—Seniors Awaiting Lunch and Dinner, Rock Canyon’s answer to Meals on Wheels—as I sat in the outer office, awaiting my job interview. He was tall, but not too tall. His expensive suit barely concealed an athletic physique that fell just shy of a slavish devotion to muscle mass. Early thirties, I estimated, and monied. Honey-blond curly hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones, chiseled features, gold-rimmed glasses, and of course, dimples. Why did there always have to be dimples? They were my kryptonite, rendering me powerless to resist.

I nicknamed him Adonis, Donny for short, lest anyone accuse me of being pretentious. He was the stuff of every girl’s dreams, especially if that girl was as masochistic as yours truly. Men like that didn’t fall for ordinary girls like me, gals more Cocoa Puff than Coco Chanel, more likely to run their pantyhose than strut the runway. I leaned back on the leather couch, laid down my half-completed application, and prepared to enjoy the view. Then he opened his mouth, and the attraction withered like a popped balloon.

“I want to speak to Judith. Now. Is she here?” The sharpness of his voice put Ginsu knives to shame. It was jagged enough to slash open memories of my mother’s own barely contained temper when refereeing sibling disputes between Nikki and me. Well, at least until she prematurely retired her whistle and skipped town for good.

The attendant working the main desk looked fresh out of nursing school and had obviously missed the lecture on dealing with difficult clients. She sputtered, held up both hands in surrender, and retreated into the administration office, reemerging with an older woman whose guff-be-gone demeanor softened as she got closer. Her name tag read, “Judith Ferester,” the woman scheduled to conduct my interview. She took one look at Donny, sighed as if to say, Here we go again, and plastered on her requisite customer service smile.

“Mr. Prentiss, to what do we owe the honor of this visit?” she asked in a tone sweet enough to make my teeth hurt.

“Judith, I thought we had this discussion before. I trust you to take care of my nana, but day after day, I discover goings-on that are utterly unacceptable. Maybe we shouldn’t have added the senior center, just limited SALAD to meal delivery. Last week you served chips and a roll at lunch? That’s too many carbs. This week, I find someone is duping her out of her pocket change. No one is going to take advantage of her good nature, not under my watch.”

I half-expected him to spit on the ground. Was such venom contagious? I didn’t want my prospective employer in a foul mood when she reviewed my application. I really, really needed this job.

“Mr. Prentiss,” Judith answered, her patronizing smile frozen in place, “I assure you that your championing of our senior center was well founded. The reason your nana isn’t complaining is that she receives the utmost care. She is one of our dearest visitors. Everyone loves her.”

“Tell me then, what is this?” Donny—scratch that, Mr. Prentiss—drew a scrap of paper from his pocket and flung it onto the counter. I leaned forward to make out the object of his disdain. Then, thinking better of it, I relaxed and watched as this melodrama played itself out.

Judith glanced down at the paper. “This? It’s a scoresheet. They play gin for ten cents a hand. We monitor everything that goes on here; your grandmother is not being conned out of her life savings. You have my word.”

Prentiss shook his head so vigorously his gold-rimmed glasses worked their way down to the tip of his perfect nose. He pushed them back with obvious annoyance. Even when he was acting like a jerk, his dimples were captivating. Would they be even more alluring if he smiled? Did he smile…like, ever?

“It’s not the amount that worries me. It’s the act itself. Many seniors here are memory impaired. How can you condone gambling between people who aren’t coherent? Could you please keep a closer eye on things? Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to take my nana—and my support—to the center I’ve heard about across the river.”

Without waiting for Judith’s response, Prentiss departed as brusquely as he’d arrived. Ah, the entitlement of the rich. Walk over everyone, then storm off. He never even noticed my presence. Just as well, considering my purpose for being there. Even if I wasn’t sorry to see the back end of his temper, his rear end was pleasant enough to watch as he exited, I noted with a guilty shudder.

Judith shook her head, rolled her eyes, and let out a huff. Then she noticed me. “I’m so sorry you had to overhear that. I’m the director here. How can I help you?”

“I’m Carraway Quinn. Everyone calls me Carra. I have an appointment for the recreational aide position.”

Judith typed a few keystrokes into the main desk’s computer. “Ah yes, Ms. Quinn. Carraway, like the seed?”

“Something like that,” I said with a smile.

They always guessed, but no one got it right. Some man would, one day. That’s what my mother said a million years ago, when she still lived within earshot. One man would figure it out, and that’s how I’d know he was the one for me. Not that it mattered right now. I had bigger problems than finding a new boyfriend.

“Tell me, would I have to deal with people like that all day?” I tilted my head in the direction of Prentiss’s contrail.

“What can I say? He loves his nana.” Judith shrugged, staring at the door. “Though I’ve never seen him lash out like that before. He’s usually so calm.” She quickly shifted into public relations mode. “Jay Prentiss is one of our biggest contributors. It’s only because of his generosity that we have this senior center and can afford to hire a recreational aide.” She beckoned me into the inner office. “Shall we proceed?”

I followed, but I had my doubts. I belonged in the editorial office of a magazine or on a book tour for my perennially unfinished novel, not at a senior center. This job was my stepmother’s idea, not mine. Calling it an idea was being generous; it was more like a scheme, and the elderly deserved better than someone sent here to deceive them. I was the embodiment of what Jay Prentiss worried about most.

The interview lasted less than ten minutes, as if Judith was going through the formalities but had already decided to hire me. I was to start my orientation the following day. I shook her hand and thanked her, all the while wishing I were anywhere else.

Afterward, I wandered into the recreation area, where I’d be spending most of my time. The room was dingy, teeming with doleful seniors watching television, playing cards, or staring off into space. A few complained among themselves about a jigsaw puzzle they were unable to finish because the last pieces were missing. I wondered how many had lost their spouses and came to the center out of loneliness, their children too busy with their own lives to visit. It was a heartbreaking thought.

Jay Prentiss was complaining about carbs and gambling when he should have been concentrating on ennui. The seniors’ dismal expressions told me they were visiting SALAD more out of desperation than opportunity. It was clear they needed an injection of enthusiasm, not some aide looking to unsettle their lives. It came down to my conscience. Could it triumph against my stepmother’s directives and my plummeting bank account?

***

Author Bio

By day, a mild-mannered salesperson, wife, mother, rescuer of senior shelter dogs, competitive trivia player and author groupie, happily living just north of New York City. By night, an author of sex, suspense and satire. My background includes stints in travel marketing, travel journalism, meeting planning, public relations and real estate. I was, for a long and happy time, an award-winning magazine writer and editor. Then kids happened. And I needed to actually make money. Now they’re off doing whatever it is they do (of which I have no idea since they won’t friend me on Facebook) and I can spend my spare time weaving tales of debauchery and whatever else tickles my fancy. The main thing to remember about my work is that I am NOT one of my characters. For example, as a real estate broker, I’ve never played Bondage Bingo in one of my empty listings or offed anyone at my local diet clinic. And I haven’t run away from home in fear that my husband was planning to off me. But that’s not to say that I haven’t wanted to…

Social Media Links

Instagram – @AuthorDMBarr

Purchase Links

Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads

***

RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f24bf84b749/

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Radar Girls by Sara Ackerman

Hi, everyone!

Today I am once again on the Harlequin Trade Publishing Historical Fiction Summer 2021 Blog Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for RADAR GIRLS by Sara Ackerman.

Below you will find an author Q&A, an about the book section, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!

***

Author Q&A

Q: What do you think drives authors to continue to find stories to tell set around WWII?

A: Perhaps it’s because there are still so many amazing untold stories out there? There are so many individuals with unique experiences during the war, all over the world, that the books could just keep coming. Also, I know for myself, while I’m researching for a novel, I often stumble upon something that makes me sit up and think, Wow, that would make a great story! And then I file it away for future consideration. This happened while I was researching for The Lieutenant’s Nurse, my second novel, and first heard about the Women’s Air Raid Defense. It’s how Radar Girls was born!

Q: How are you hoping readers will relate to Radar Girls?

A: I hope that readers will see a little bit of Daisy Wilder in themselves. I think it’s human nature to put yourself in the shoes of the characters and wonder about how you would react in a crisis. Would you rise to the occasion?

In Radar Girls, we have one woman trying to make her way in the world. Daisy is special in her own way, but no different than you or I, really. And then in one day, everything changes. Through her lens, we experience what it was like firsthand to live in wartime Hawaii, a very dark and scary time. We go along for the ride as she overcomes obstacles, deeply connects with other WARDS, falls in love, and proves herself as an important member of a critical command center Pearl Harbor. We feel her hopes, dreams and fears. As a reader, when I feel the humanity of a story, it makes me care. And when I care, I want to keep turning the pages. I hope that as readers turn the pages of Radar Girls, they will feel empowered and inspired and proud.

Q: What’s something that you connected with personally as you researched and wrote Radar Girls?

A: When I was reading about the real WARDs, the thing that stood out to me the most was how these women quickly became a sisterhood. And I know that many were still close and kept in touch until their dying days. I have a band of friends who I love like sisters, so this really resonated with me. I greatly admire how the WARDs held each other up and maintained such grace under pressure, as well as a great sense of humor throughout. It was so inspiring to me, and made me want to hug all of my friends.

***

About the Book

WWII historical fiction inspired by the real women of the Women’s Air Raid Defense, RADAR GIRLS follows one unlikely recruit as she trains and serves in secrecy as a radar plotter on Hawaii. A tale of resilience and sisterhood, it sees the battles of the Pacific through the eyes of these pioneering women, and will appeal to fans of Kate Quinn and Pam Jenoff.

An extraordinary story inspired by the real Women’s Air Raid Defense, where an unlikely recruit and her sisters-in-arms forge their place in WWII history.

Daisy Wilder prefers the company of horses to people, bare feet and saltwater to high heels and society parties. Then, in the dizzying aftermath of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Daisy enlists in a top-secret program, replacing male soldiers in a war zone for the first time. Under fear of imminent invasion, the WARDs guide pilots into blacked-out air strips and track unidentified planes across Pacific skies.

But not everyone thinks the women are up to the job, and the new recruits must rise above their differences and work side-by-side despite the resistance and heartache they meet along the way. With America’s future on the line, Daisy is determined to prove herself worthy. And with the man she’s falling in love with out on the front lines, she cannot fail. From radar towers on remote mountaintops to flooded bomb shelters, she’ll need her new team when the stakes are highest. Because the most important battles are fought—and won—together.

This inspiring and uplifting tale of pioneering, unsung heroines vividly transports the reader to wartime Hawaii, where one woman’s call to duty leads her to find courage, strength and sisterhood.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55004551-radar-girls?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=D2ftns4gw2&rank=1

Radar Girls

by Sara Ackerman

On Sale Date: July 27, 2021

9780778332046

Trade Paperback

$16.99 USD

368 pages

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

RADAR GIRLS by Sara Ackerman is an engrossing historical fiction story featuring young women on the island of Hawaii after the attack on Pearl Harbor who are enlisted and become the Women’s Air Raid Defense (WARD). This is a standalone historical fiction novel with a romance subplot set on a beautiful island with plenty of real life drama and intrigue.

Daisy Walker is more comfortable around horses than people and is working on the Montgomery Ranch to support herself and her mother. Then the attack on Pearl Harbor throws the island and the entire country into a panic. The men are needed for the front and Daisy is recruited with many other young women to be trained to take over their jobs in the newly formed Women’s Air Raid Defense (WARD) to protect the Pacific coast and help pilots find their way back home.

For the first time in her life, Daisy builds bonds with other women who like and respect her. The women are a diverse group who learn a strategic top secret skill and learn to work together even through their differences in education and social status. As the women bond, it is not all work, as the group gets caught up in several schemes and adventures. Daisy also learns about relationships from her friends and begins to fall for her neighbor who has always seemed out of reach.

Set between the attack on Pearl Harbor and VJ Day, this historical fiction drew me in immediately and I was sorry when it was over. Ms. Ackerman did amazing research not only on the time period and location during the early 1940’s, but on radar and all the skills the women needed to learn and do their jobs. Daisy is a memorable and strong lead character who matures and grows in confidence in herself as the story progresses. She also learns how strong the bond can be between female friends. The romance subplot between Daisy and Walker was realistically paced and intertwined with her relationship growth with the other women. All the secondary characters were believably written and Daisy’s female friends stood out. All of the story elements kept me turning the pages.

I highly recommend this historical fiction story!

***

Excerpt

The Bust

Their shack, as Daisy referred to the house, was nestled in a cluster of bent ironwood trees, all by its lonesome. Set back far from the beach to protect it from a direct blast of onshore winds, it still took a constant battering and the salty air and elements had done a fine job reclaiming it. Windowpanes had been blasted opaque, you could see through the back wall, and flowers had taken up residence in the gutters. The siding had gone from forest green to pale green to peeling gray, the roof turned to rust.

When he had first started working up at the ranch, Daisy’s father had somehow persuaded Mr. Montgomery to sell him the small parcel of beachfront property for the price of a bag of sand. Most likely because it was in no-man’s-land between Waialua and the ranch. And because her father had been the best horse trainer in Hawai’i and everyone knew it.

She flung open the front door and ran inside. “Mom?” she called.

All quiet. She tiptoed across the lauhala mat in the living room, avoiding the creaking floorboards. Her mother spent much of her life in one of two states—sleeping or staring out to sea. The bedroom door was cracked and a lump lay under the blankets, pillow over her head. There was no point in trying to wake her, so Daisy ran back outside, hopped on her bike and rode for the stables.

The air was ripe with burnt sugarcane and a scratchy feeling of dread. She bumped along a dirt road as fast as her old bike would carry her. That plume of black smoke above Schofield caused her heart to sink. So many Japanese planes could mean only one thing. An attack or invasion of some kind was happening. But the sky remained empty and she saw no signs of ships on the horizon.

By the time she reached the stables, she had worked out what to tell Mr. Silva—the only person at the ranch who was even close to being a friend—and beg that he help her find Moon. Whether or not he would risk his job was another story. Jobs were not easy to come by, especially on this side of the island. Daisy counted herself lucky to have one. When she rounded the corner by the entrance, she about fell over on her bike. Mr. Silva’s rusted truck was gone and in its place sat Mr. Montgomery’s shiny new Ford, motor running and door open.

As far as old Hal Montgomery was concerned, Daisy was mostly invisible. She had worked for him going on seven years now—since she was sixteen—but she was a girl and girls were fluffy, pretty things who wore fancy dresses and attended parties. Not short-haired, trouser-wearing, outdoorsy misfits. And certainly not horse trainers and skin divers. Nope, those jobs belonged to men. There was also the matter of her father’s death, but she preferred not to think about that.

Should she turn around and hightail it out of there before he caught sight of her? He’d find out eventually, and he would be livid. Daisy pulled her bike behind the toolshed and slipped around the back side of the stables, peering in through a cloudy window. The tension in the air from earlier had dissipated and the horses were all quiet. A tall form stood in front of the old horse—Ka‘ena—she was supposed to ride. It was hard to tell through the foggy pane, but the man looked too tall and too thin to be Hal Montgomery.

Horsefeathers! It was Walker, Montgomery’s son. A line of perspiration formed on the back of her neck and she had the strong urge to flee. Not that Daisy had had much interaction with Walker in recent years. He was aloof and intimidating and the kind of person who made her forget how to speak, but he loved Moon fiercely. Of that she was sure. Just then, he turned and started jogging toward the door. His face was in shadow but it felt like he was looking right at her. She froze. If she ducked away now, he would surely catch the movement. She did it anyway.

She had just made it to her bike when Walker tore out of the tack room with a wild look in his eye. He had a rifle hanging across his chest, and he was carrying two others. He stopped when he saw her. “Hey!” he said.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Montgomery.”

He wore his flight suit, which was only halfway buttoned, like he’d been interrupted either trying to get in it or trying to get out of it. His face was flushed and lined with sweat. “Don’t you know we’ve been attacked? You ought to head for cover, somewhere inland.”

He was visibly shaken.

“I saw the planes. What do you know?” she said.

“Wheeler and Schofield are all shot up, and they did a number on Pearl. Battleships down, bay on fire. God knows how many dead.” His gaze dropped to her body for a moment and she felt her skin burn. There had been no time to change or even think about changing, and she was still in her half-wet swimsuit, hair probably sticking out in eleven directions. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I was worried about the horses,” she said.

“That makes two of us. And goddamn Moon is not in his stall. You know anything about that?”

Taking Moon had been about the dumbest thing she could have done. But at the time, it seemed a perfectly sane idea. The kind of thinking that got her into plenty of trouble over the years. Why hadn’t she learned? She looked at the coconut tree just past him as she spoke. “I have no idea. Perhaps Mr. Silva has him?”

“Mr. Silva went to town last night to see his sister,” he said.

She forced herself to look at him, feeling like she had the word guilty inked onto her forehead. “Looks like you have somewhere to be. You go on, I’ll find Moon. I promise.”

Her next order of business would be scouring the coast and finding that horse before Walker returned. There would be no sleeping until Moon was safely back at the stables.

“I sure hope so. That horse is mighty important to me,” he said.

Tell him!

She was about to come clean, when he moved around her, hopped in the car and slammed the door. He leaned out the window and said, “Something tells me you know more than you’re letting on, Wilder.”

With that, he sped off, leaving her standing in a cloud of red dirt and sand.

In the stables, the horses knew the sound of her footsteps, or maybe they smelled the salt on her hair. A concert of nickers and snorts erupted in the stalls. Daisy went to the coatrack first, and slid on an oversize button-up that she kept there for chilly days. It smelled of hay.

“How is everyone?” she said, stopping at each one to rub their necks or kiss their noses. “Quite a morning, hasn’t it been?”

Peanut was pacing with nostrils flared, and she spent a few minutes stroking his long neck before moving on. Horses were her lifeblood. Feeding, grooming, riding, loving. She only wished that Mr. Montgomery would let her train them—officially, that was. Without being asked as a last resort by Mr. Silva when everyone else had tried. Lord knew she was better than the rest of the guys. When she got to Moon’s stall, all the blood rushed from her head. The door had been left open and two Japanese slippers hung from the knob. She had hidden them in the corner under some straw—apparently not well enough.

Damn.

Just then she heard another car pull up. The ranch truck. A couple of the ranch hands poured out, making a beeline to the stables. Mr. Montgomery followed on their heels with a machete in his hand and a gun on his hip. Daisy felt the skin tighten on the back of her neck. His ever-present limp seemed even more pronounced.

When he saw her, he said, “Where’s Silva?”

No mention that they were under attack.

“In town,” she answered.

“What about Walker?”

“Walker just left in a big hurry,” she answered.

One of the guys had his hunting dog with him. It was a big mutt that enjoyed staring down the horses and making them nervous, as if they needed to be any more nervous right now. Daisy wanted to tell him to get the dog out of there, but knew it would be pointless.

“The hosses in the pasture need to be secured,” Mr. M said.

“Do you need my help?” she offered.

“Nah, you should get out of here. Get home. Fuckers blew up all our planes and now paratroopers are coming down in the pineapple fields. Ain’t no place for a woman right now.”

Daisy wanted to stay and help, but also wanted to get the hell away before he noticed that Moon was not here. “Yes, sir.”

He stopped and sized her up for a moment, his thick brows pinched. “You still got that shotgun of your old man’s?”

“I do.”

“Make sure it’s loaded.”

On her way home, Daisy passed through Japanese camp, hoping to get more information from Mr. Sasaki, who always knew the latest happenings. A long row of cottages lined the road, every rock and leaf in its place. The houses were painted barn red with crisp, white trim. On any given Sunday, there would have been gangs of kids roaming the area, but now the place was eerily empty.

“Hello?” she called, letting her bike fall into the naupaka hedge.

When she knocked and no one answered, she started pounding. A curtain pulled aside and a small face peered out at her and waved her away. Mrs. Sasaki. She was torn, but chose to leave them be. With the whispers of paranoia lately, all the local Japanese folks were bound to be nervous. She didn’t blame them.

This time when Daisy ran up to the shack, her mother was sitting on the porch drinking coffee from her chipped mug.

She was still in her nightgown, staring out beyond the ocean. When she was in this state, a person could have walked into their house and made off with all of their belongings and her mother would not even bat an eye.

Daisy sat down next to her. “Mom, the Japanese Army attacked Pearl Harbor and Wheeler and who knows where else.”

Her mother clenched her jaw slightly, took a sip of her coffee, then set it down on the mango stump next to her chair. “They said it would happen,” she said flatly.

“This is serious, mom. People are dead. Civilians, too. I don’t know how many, but the islands are in danger of being invaded and there are Japanese ships and planes all around. They’re telling us to stay inside.”

A look of worry came over her mom’s face. “You should go find a safer place to stay, away from the coast.”

“And leave you here?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

Her mom shrugged.

She knew Louise couldn’t help it, but a tiny part of Daisy was waiting for that day her mother would wake up and be the old Louise Wilder. The mother of red lipstick and coconut macaroons, of beach bonfires and salty hugs. The one who rode bikes with her daughter to school every day, singing with the birds along the way. The highs and lows had been there before, but now there were only lows and deeper lows.

After some time, her mother finally spoke. “Men, they do the dumbest things.”

“That may be true, but we’re at war. Does that mean anything to you?” Daisy said, her voice rising in frustration.

“Course it does, but what can we do?”

She had a point. Aside from hiding in the house or running away, what other options were there? Used to doing things, Daisy was desperate to help, but how? Their home was under attack and she felt as useful as a sack of dirt.

Louise leaned back. On days like these, she retreated so far into herself that she was unreachable. You could tell by looking in her eyes. Blank and bottomless. Mr. Silva always said that you could see the spirit in the eyes. Dull eyes, dull spirit. That Louise looked this way always made Daisy feel deeply alone. The onshore winds kicked up a notch and ruffled the surface of the ocean. She knew she should stay with her mom, but more than anything, she wanted to go in search of the horse. Moon meant more to her than just the job. She loved him something fierce.

Only one thing was clear: their lives would never be the same.

***

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Sara Ackerman was born and raised in Hawaii. She studied journalism and earned graduate degrees in psychology and Chinese medicine. She blames Hawaii for her addiction to writing, and sees no end to its untapped stories. When she’s not writing or teaching, you’ll find her in the mountains or in the ocean. She currently lives on the Big Island with her boyfriend and a houseful of bossy animals. Find out more about Sara and her books at www.ackermanbooks.com and follow her on Instagram @saraackermanbooks and on FB @ackermanbooks.

Social Media Links

Author Website

Facebook: @ackermanbooks

Twitter: @AckermanBooks

Instagram: @saraackermanbooks

Purchase Links

Bookshop.org: https://bookshop.org/books/radar-girls/9780778332046

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Radar-Girls-Sara-Ackerman/dp/0778332047

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/radar-girls-sara-ackerman/1137495104?ean=9780778332046

Indie Bound: https://www.indiebound.org/search/book?keys=radar+girls

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/radar-girls/id1527864335

Books A Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Radar-Girls/Sara-Ackerman/9780778332046?id=8062375558156

Target: https://www.target.com/p/radar-girls-by-sara-ackerman-paperback/-/A-81262195

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/radar-girlsGoogle Play: https://books.google.com/books/about/Radar_Girls.html?id=Y7v3DwAAQBAJ

Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: Choose Me by Tess Garritsen and Gary Braver

Book Description

Taryn Moore is young, beautiful and brilliant…so why would she kill herself? When Detective Frankie Loomis arrives on the scene to investigate the girl’s fatal plunge from her apartment balcony, she knows in her gut there’s more to the story, especially after the autopsy reveals that the college senior was pregnant. It could be reason enough for suicide-or a motive for murder.

To English professor Jack Dorian, Taryn was the ultimate fantasy: intelligent, adoring, and completely off limits. But there was also a dark side to Taryn, a dangerous streak that threatened those she turned her affections to–including Jack. And now that she’s dead, his problems are just beginning.

After Frankie uncovers a trove of sordid secrets, it becomes clear that Jack may know the truth. He is guilty of deception, but is he capable of cold-blooded murder?

***

Elise’s Thoughts

Choose Me by Tess Gerritsen and Gary Braver delve into the world of adultery. The story conjures up feelings of betrayal, deception, guilt, and personal responsibility.

The novel opens with the death of college student Taryn Moore, who supposedly plunged to her death from the balcony of her apartment. But Boston Detective Frankie Loomis wonders if the death really was a suicide, or could it be possibly a murder. For her, the clues do not add up, knowing how college age girls act (considering she has raised twin daughters). After discovering additional and sordid secrets, the detective is even more convinced that Taryn’s death is not what it seems.

The narrative works backwards from the discovery of Taryn’s body and is delivered in alternating chapters by Taryn, Jack, and Frankie. The suspects include Professor Jack Dorian, his wife, Dr. Maggie, Taryn’s seminar nemesis, mean girls Jessica and Caitlin, Cody Atwood, the shy seminar student who has a crush on Taryn, and Liam the ex-boyfriend who Taryn is stalking.

As the book progresses, readers will also realize that Taryn is not the innocent victim. She has a dangerous streak where she can be ruthless and selfish. This shows in her two relationships, one with Liam, a childhood sweetheart who outgrew her, and the other with Jack, her college professor. With both, Taryn becomes a stalker, unwilling to accept the relationship is over.

Taryn sees herself as a victim and becomes obsessed with that feeling. After taking a college seminar, “Star Crossed Lovers,” she realizes the similarities between herself and women in Medieval and Greek mythology. All have been betrayed and abandoned by men in relationships. Whether it was Abelard and Heloise, Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Juliet, or Jason and Medea, the men said the words “I love you,” but not for a lifetime.

The many twists and turns make for an exciting read. The authors turned the characters on their heads making the supposed victim unlikeable and the adulterer, the one people root for.

***

Elise’s Author Interview

Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea for the story?

Tess Gerritsen: It occurred to me these kinds of events that are a “he said, she said,” always have two points of view. The man sees it differently than the woman. I thought how interesting it would be to base a story on an illicit affair. I talked about it with Gary, and he agreed to write the male point of view, while I wrote the female view.

Gary Braver: I wrote Jack and Tess did Detective Frankie Loomis and Taryn. We wrote by going back and forth with email.

EC: As the book progressed, I did not see Taryn as a victim and even disliked her.

TG: People are not supposed to like her just because she is a victim. There are shades of gray. We wanted to show how a victim can also be a villain. What readers want and what they desire are two different things. They think they want a likeable character but really want a fascinating character. I point to Scarlett O’ Hara. She is not a likeable character, but we cannot walk away because she is so interesting.

EC: I actually thought of Jack as the victim.

TG: Jack was the one person in the book who needed to be liked because he is our hero.

GB: I liked Jack and identified with him. I think he became a sympathetic character because of his sense of guilt and regret. He knew what he did was wrong when he violated his martial vows and professorial obligations. Title IX says professors should not date their students. Jack had an adulterous affair and was tormented with what he did.

EC: How would you describe Taryn?

TG: Brilliant, charming, and beautiful. She was like a train wreck because of her obsessiveness and how damaged and hurt she was. In the beginning she was vulnerable, betrayed, hurt, and damaged, but as the story went on, she became selfish. Her personality is like peeling an onion. As readers get deeper and deeper into knowing her, they realize she is not who she seems to be at the beginning.

EC: How would you describe Jack?

GB: Sensitive, needy, and longs for romanticism. At times he wants to believe that circumstances at home pushed him into Taryn’s arms because his wife is on a treadmill with her practice. We did not want to vilify either character or exonerate them.

EC: What role does Jack’s wife Maggie play?

TG: Is she an innocent victim or possible suspect? She is the anchor to Jack. We wrote her to show the consequences of a mistake and how lives are destroyed. Jack sees it as possibly losing the love of his life, Maggie.

GB: She is smart, dedicated, and a professional. She would never have an affair. Both she and Jack are devoted to and love each other.

EC: How would you describe Detective Frankie Loomis?

TG: She is a middle-aged mother of two teenage daughters with the wisdom of motherhood. She can sniff out trouble. I see Frankie as Jane Rizzoli in twenty years.

EC: What about the relationship between Taryn and Jack?

TG: Jack fulfills a romantic need as well as a parental lead for Taryn. Her father abandoned her, so she sees Jack as a romantic hero, the man to protect her.

EC: Medieval literature and Greek Mythology?

GB: In his seminar, “Star Struck Lovers,” Jack uses classical stories where men used and abandoned women. It is the unity that holds the book together. These ancient classics are still being debated by feminists today regarding what is an accurate and inaccurate way to interpret them. It is a history of men who do wrong and fall on their swords.

TG: Taryn feels closest to Medea who gets revenge. I would have taken this seminar if I were in college. The stories we found are ones where Taryn would see herself of being abandoned or losing a lover. They were role models for her on how she would behave. She put herself into their lives to help her live her life.

EC: Can you explain this quote from Taryn. “But if you believe entirely in fate, then you believe we have no control over our futures. That some higher power decides everything for us, good and bad. That means there are no coincidences in life, no accidents, no laws of nature, and no free will… People are ultimately responsible for their own actions.”

GB: It was referring to Romeo and Juliet and based on the notion ‘I am fated to be your lover. We are to be with each other for the rest of our lives.’

TG: Gary wrote that part of fate versus self-control. I agree that a lot of people feel they are not responsible anymore. Fate made someone do it or some politician. We need to take responsibility for our own actions. We also need to face the consequences for our actions without blaming anyone else.

EC: What do you want readers to get out of the book?

TG: It is not just a murder mystery, but also an exploration of how flawed people are. A mistake can destroy someone’s life and that we are responsible for the things we do.

EC: What about your next books?

TG: I just finished Rizzoli & Isles book thirteen. It is titled, Listen To Me and will be out in June 2022. It features Jane’s mom, Angela, who has an ex-cop boyfriend. She is frustrated because she feels no one listens to her concerns. People do not necessarily believe her instincts that something is really wrong in her neighborhood.

I am working on a spy novel. The protagonist works for the CIA and I got the idea from many retired CIA agents that live in my neighborhood.

I am also in negotiations to do a TV movie for Lifetime with a screenwriter friend of mine.

GB: My next book is titled Served Cold. It is about a mystery writer who thinks they have a breakout book until it is trashed in the New York Times by a reviewer. The author goes after the reviewer.

THANK YOU!!

BIO: Elise Cooper has written book reviews and interviewed best-selling authors since 2009. Her reviews have covered several different genres, including thrillers, mysteries, women’s fiction, romance and cozy mysteries. An avid reader, she engages authors to discuss their works, and to focus on the descriptions of their characters and the plot. While not writing reviews, Elise loves to watch baseball and visit the ocean in Southern California, with her dog and husband.

Book Review: The Hive by Gregg Olsen

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE HIVE by Gregg Olsen is a suspense/thriller/police procedural which revolves around the present-day murder of a college journalist investigating a death and cover up in the past. The death in the past leads back to a charismatic beauty and wellness guru and her “Hive” of close followers on a small island in the Pacific Northwest.

Detective Lindsay Jackman is reeling from the suicide of her partner and is immediately thrown into an investigation of a young college journalist found naked at the bottom of a ravine. Lindsay discovers the dead girl was working on an expose of Marnie Spellman.

Marnie Spellman tells the world the tale of her being lifted by a swarm of bees and being given a spiritual connection to nature and God, who is female. Using honey, royal jelly and other natural ingredients, Marnie builds a cosmetics empire. But Marnie is also a guru or charlatan, depending on your view, who makes others believe in her power to elevate women to a higher level as they also obtain holistic health and eternal beauty. Her inner circle of six is called the Hive and they share in Marnie’s success, but also her biggest secret which could destroy them all.

As Lindsay digs into Marnie’s empire and the Hive, the women are determined to keep their secrets at all costs, including silencing any who could reveal the truth.

This story pulled me in from the very first page, but as the story progresses it switches time frames frequently and it can get confusing at times. Lindsay is a dogged investigator and I enjoyed how she was impressed by Marnie, but her investigation was never influenced by her. This book is full of surprising plot twists as Marnie and each individual Hive member’s secrets are revealed. I am always interested in stories, fictional and non, where a person can be so charismatic as to lead the average person to do terrible things. The story’s climax surprised me and all the story threads are tied together in a way that left me satisfied.

I can recommend this suspense/thriller for a compelling and unique police procedural read.

***

About the Author

I live in rural Washington State (about a mile as the crow flies from Dr. Linda Burfield Hazzard’s infamous Starvation Heights sanatarium). My thriller, THE LAST THING SHE EVER DID was an Amazon Charts bestseller. LYING NEXT TO ME was a reader favorite, charting at No. 1 in the Kindle store and hitting the bestseller’s list at the Washington Post. My true crime book, IF YOU TELL, found a home on Amazon Charts for more than 60 weeks. In fact, it was the bestselling Kindle ebook of 2020. I’ve been a guest on Dateline NBC, NPR, Good Morning America, The Early Show, FOX News, CNN, Anderson Cooper, Entertainment Tonight, Inside Edition, Extra, Access Hollywood, 20/20, Snapped, Deadly Women, William Shatner’s Aftermath, and A&E’s Biography.

You can find out more about me at www.NotoriousUSA.com.

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Woman In Shadow by Carrie Stuart Parks

Woman in Shadow

by Carrie Stuart Parks

July 12-23, 2021 Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for WOMAN IN SHADOW by Carrie Stuart Parks.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!

***

Book Description

Carrie Stuart Parks combines her expertise as a forensic artist with her ability to craft a gripping story in this page-turning web of light and shadow.

A woman off the grid.

Darby Graham thinks she’s on a much-needed vacation in remote Idaho to relax. But before she even arrives at the ranch, an earthquake strikes—her first clue that something is amiss. Then when a cabin on the edge of town is engulfed in flames and problems at the ranch escalate, Darby finds herself immersed in a chilling mystery.

A town on fire.

A serial arsonist sends taunting letters to the press after each fire. As a forensic linguist, this is Darby’s area of expertise . . . but the scars it’s caused her also the reason she’s trying to escape from her life.

A growing darkness.

As the shadows continue to move in, the pieces of the town around her come into sharper focus. Can she trust the one man who sees her clearly?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55918612-woman-in-shadow?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=UcxfSDBUth&rank=1

Woman in Shadow

Genre: Mystery/Suspense
Published by: Thomas Nelson
Publication Date: July 13th 2021
Number of Pages: 336
ISBN: 0785239847 (ISBN13: 9780785239840)
Series: Woman in Shadow is not a part of a series.

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

WOMAN IN SHADOW by Carrie Stuart Parks is a Christian mystery/suspense with a hint of romance set in rural Idaho with a female protagonist who is memorable for her intelligence, courage and grit as she works to find the cause of disturbing incidents on a resort ranch she is sent to, while working to overcome PTSD from a previous horrific case gone wrong.

Darby Graham has spent two years at Clan Firinn, a program for law enforcement personnel to work on dealing with their severe PTSD. Clan Firinn has sent her undercover to Mule Shoe Ranch to use her skills as a forensic linguist to gather information regarding accidents that are sabotaging the future of the ranch.

Deputy Bram White is aware of the problems at Mule Shoe Ranch, but he is also investigating a serial arsonist. As the accidents at the ranch turn to murder, Bram turns to Darby for assistance. Are they looking for an arsonist who is also a killer, or do the two cases have separate perpetrators?

Will Darby be able to unravel all the suspects and motives before she becomes one of the killer’s victims?

I enjoyed this story from start to finish. Darby is a strong protagonist who goes through so much emotionally and physically during this story. Her backstory and the cause of her PTSD is revealed in increments throughout the story as she works to overcome all the personal obstacles thrown in her way from the killer. I also loved Ms. Parks’ addition of the dogs, Holly and Maverick, to aid Darby in so many ways during the story. Bram is a romantic interest who has his own backstory to overcome so as much as he helps Darby, he also makes her doubt herself. This has a thread of romance with no sex scenes, but a growth of understanding and acceptance. The Christian references during the story are few. The red herrings and plot twists left me guessing until the resolution which I always like.

I recommend this standalone Christian mystery/suspense!

***

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Targhee Falls, Idaho

“Why are those dogs barking?” I pointed across the wooden picnic table toward two obviously upset canines yelping nearby.

A man staring at a clipboard didn’t look up. “They’re dogs. That’s what they do. Are you Darby Graham?”

“Yes.”

The man checked something on his clipboard. “Good. You’re all here.” He had to speak up to be heard over the commotion.

Before I could ask about the dogs again, he turned and strolled toward the nearby general store.

Although the man seemed unmoved by the dogs’ distress, the other people seated around me on Adirondack chairs or at picnic tables had stopped speaking to each other and were staring. The dogs—a black Lab cross with hound-length ears, and a huge Great Dane mix—both had their tails tucked between their legs and were howling.

The picnic table trembled.

I lifted my hands off the rough pine surface but could still feel the movement under my body. A flock of birds burst from the treetops. Pinecones dropped to the ground from the towering ponderosas.

Earthquake.

I was seated near the general store, just below a plate-glass window. The glass rippled, then rattled.

Heart thudding, I dove under the table. The ground rolled under me like ocean waves. A low rumbling was followed by car alarms going off from the parking lot on the other side of the store.

The black Lab flew under the table and landed in my lap. I wrapped my arms around the quivering dog, feeling the prominent bones of her spine and rib cage. “It’s okay there, girl. You’re safe. Your big buddy isn’t so scared—”

The second quaking dog joined us, his large body pressing against my back.

The earthquake ended.

“All over.” I reached around and scratched the Dane’s chest, feeling more bones. Didn’t anyone ever feed these dogs?

Both dogs seemed content to stay put, but the weight of the Lab—even though she was too thin—was still more than my leg was used to and it was rapidly going to sleep. “Come on, sweet girl, time to get up,” I whispered.

Both dogs took the hint.

On the other hand, here under the table seemed a nice place to stay. Tucked into the shadows, I didn’t need to worry about anyone staring at me. I had room to stretch out and could smell the cut grass. I’d be prepared should another earthquake come. And my assignment was to maintain a low profile. Sitting on the ground under a table seemed to be as low profile as I could get.

Two legs appeared next to me. “Miss Graham?”

Flapperdoodle. Mr. Clipboard found me.

I crawled between the bench and table, sliding onto the seat, then glanced around. Several other people had taken similar action. Only Clipboard had noticed my reluctance to leave my hiding place.

One by one, the car alarms stopped. The slight breeze stirred the fragrance of fallen pine needles.

Mr. Clipboard stared at me for a moment, then turned toward the others. He was holding a number of fabric bags imprinted with Mule Shoe Ranch. “Don’t be worried, folks. The town of Targhee Falls is less than fifteen miles from Yellowstone. The national park routinely has between one and three thousand quakes a year—”

“Excuse me, but I’ve heard most of those quakes aren’t noticeable,” a gray-haired woman in a denim shirt said.

“Obviously some are.” The man gave her a rueful half smile and started handing out the bags after checking the attached name tags. “I’m Sam, owner of the general store over there.” He nodded toward the building featuring a two-story false front and wooden sidewalk. The peeling sign said Sam’s Mercantile. “I provide Mule Shoe with transportation, supplies, and assistance during team-building exercises. Inside these bags you’ll find a great deal of information about your stay at the ranch. The owner, Roy Zaring, wanted you to have these while you’re waiting for your transportation—”

“When will that be?” asked a handsome teen with flawless olive skin and a thick lock of black hair. “I’m not getting any cell service here.” He held up his phone. An impeccably dressed man and woman sitting at the same table gave each other sideways glances.

Sam finished handing out the bags, turned, and looked at the youth. “Those your folks?” His gaze flickered to the two people sitting with the young man.

“Yeah.”

“And I’m guessing your mom? Dad? Both? Told you they were here to take a team-building—”

“Watercolor workshop.”

“A five-day art class in the wilds of Idaho, right?”

“Yeeeaah.”

“Son, the Mule Shoe Dude Ranch is a primitive facility. No Wi-Fi. No cell reception. No television, radio . . . no electricity. You’ll have a cabin with a fireplace, a composting toilet, and a lantern at night.”

The color drained from the young man’s face. “What?” he whispered.

“That reminds me,” Sam said. “I’ll collect your cell phones and will keep them here and charged for when you return.”

I reached into my purse, took out my phone, and placed it on the table for Sam to collect. Whose brilliant idea was it to send me on assignment to a primitive facility when they know I need my computer and electricity? And five days with all these strangers? I wouldn’t even need to unpack.

“Don’t worry.” An attractive older woman sitting on a wooden Adirondack chair grinned at the boy. “There’s plenty of hot water for showers, courtesy of the natural geothermal environment. The water’s gravity fed and the food is world-class.” She looked around at all of us. “I’ve had an interest in the Mule Shoe and was here last summer, although I have to admit, I prefer to visit this time of year. Late September is perfect. You all are going to love it.”

The young man’s lips compressed into a thin line, and he seemed loath to let go of his cell. Sam kept tugging the phone until the youth relinquished it. “But what is there to do?” he asked no one in particular.

“Most of us are here for the art lessons.” Denim Shirt reached into her bag, pulled out a piece of paper, and held it up. “Listen.” She read from it. “‘You’ll find trail rides, fishing, canoeing, gold panning, mineral collecting, archery, photography, hiking, campfires, swimming—’”

“That’s what I mean.” The young man ran his hand through his hair. “There’s nothing to do.”

I tugged out the same brochure. Welcome, honored guests. We look forward to serving you during your stay with us. Your experiences here will be unforgettable for all the right reasons! You should bring to Mule Shoe your mindset for success.

Yeah, right. I’d like to set my mind on getting in, getting done, and getting home. “Sam, you mentioned transportation . . .”

“Horse and wagon.”

I was afraid of that. “Do you have a regular timetable?”

This time Sam actually focused on me. “No. The horse and wagon are available on an as-needed basis, mostly to transport new groups and supplies.”

From bad to worse. I was stuck. Now would be a good time to find a bathroom. Riding a bumpy, horse-drawn wagon would be uncomfortable enough without a full bladder. Besides, if I left now, no one would notice my slight limp. I normally wanted to be invisible, to disappear into a crowd. When Scott Thomas, my counselor, told me not to stand out, to blend in, he didn’t have to say it twice. Your final assignment before leaving us here in Clan Firinn is to check out Mule Shoe Ranch. We’ve heard rumblings that something’s not right. You’ll be registered as a guest. I’ll tell you more once you get there.

I was irritated at being sent out like this with no idea of what was expected. I now know why. Had I known I wouldn’t be able to use my computer programs or the internet, I would have put my foot down. I was fortunate to have a good memory for words.

I’d heard through the Clan Firinn grapevine that those getting ready to leave—“graduate” as they called it—would have a project that would test their progress toward wholeness. I figured they’d find out soon enough that I wasn’t ready to leave.

I rose, picked up my purse, and made my way to the general store. A cowbell jangled as I entered. “‘I got a fever,’” I muttered. “‘And the only prescription is more cowbell.’” The line made me smile. Why worry about earthquakes, lack of electricity, and the inability to do my work when the world needed more cowbell?

“What?” A young, freckle-faced woman with a smear of dirt on her nose stopped replacing items on the shelf.

“Iconic Saturday Night Live line—more cowbell?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” The interior had old oak floors, a tin ceiling, and a long counter with a glass display case. The sun through the window spotlighted twirling dust motes. Various cans still littered the floor, courtesy of the earthquake.

“Just let me know if ya need something.”

“Powder room?”

“Huh?”

“WC?”

“I think we’re sold out.”

“John? Head? Loo? Restroom?”

“Toilet?” She nodded to her right.

Fortunately, the primitive conditions did not include the store bathroom. Returning to the store, I picked up a can of soup that had rolled near me. “Do you know anything about those two dogs?” I handed her the can.

“Why are ya asking?” The woman placed it on the shelf.

“They just seem thin, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well.” She adjusted the display. “Sam’s been feeding ’em, but that’s gonna stop.”

My neck tingled. “I don’t understand.” I gave her a steady gaze.

She paused her work and looked around. We were alone in the store, but she dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “He’s just waitin’ for all of you to leave to the ranch.”

The tingling grew to an itch. My years of training as a forensic linguist kicked in, even though I was rusty. I grew very still and waited, listening for more clues in her language.

She gave up straightening the cans. “It’s like this: The dogs were owned by an old lady. I bet she was, like, at least forty.”

“Positively ancient. One foot in the grave.” I gave her a slight smile.

“Right. Her name was Shadow Woman. That’s what everyone called her. Well, that’s the nice name anyway. She was, like, a hermit, but a pretty good artist.” She jerked her thumb at a drawing on the wall behind the cash register.

Were owned, was. Past tense. I widened my smile to encourage her. “Why did everyone call her Shadow Woman?”

The clerk gnawed on a hangnail for a moment. “I guess ’cause she was weird, ya know, like she lived in the shadows. Creepy. Always showed up here at the store at dusk or when it was dark. Sam said she could sneak right up next to you in the shadows and you’d never see her. And her face was weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Like, really weird.”

“Ah, that clarifies it. Where did she come from?”

“Sam said she ran away from a group home near Smelterville.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Right, you know? No one wanted her. Anyway, she owned Holly—that’s the Lab mix—and Maverick, the Anna-toolian sheepdog.”

“Anatolian? From Anatolia in Asia Minor?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“Of course. I thought the big dog was half Great Dane, half mastiff.”

“Nope. Sam looked it up. Anna-whatevers are super-expensive livestock guard dogs from Turkey or France, I forget which.”

“They are such similar countries,” I murmured.

“Right. So anyway, Sam was surprised that Shadow Woman had one.”

Sam looked it up. Looking for value? Surprised that Shadow Woman had one. Not just a hermit but poor? Broke? “I see.” I leaned slightly against the shelving unit. “You mentioned Shadow . . .”

“Right. Um . . . so Shadow Woman came to town like once a month with her mule, like I said, always after sunset, and bought stuff, like Spam. She’d usually pay her bill about every other month. The dogs always came with her. Six months ago, you know, she stopped coming.”

“Let me guess. She owed Sam a lot of money.”

“Right. Boy-howdy was he steamed about it. Then he, you know, got a check and note from the old woman to pay her bill, but the check bounced higher than a buckin’ bronco.”

“Did anyone follow up, call the police?”

“Not right away ’cause the dogs moved in, first Holly, then Maverick. So, you know, Sam started to feed them. And . . . I think someone changed his mind on what to do with the dogs.”

Cluster of you knows. Sensitive topic. I kept my gaze on her and nodded again.

She glanced down and plucked a piece of lint from her sleeve. “Sam always said he’d get his pound of flesh from her, whatever that means.”

“I’m sure it originated in Turkey or France.”

“Right. Foreign-like. Um . . . Sam finally got close enough to Maverick to see he’d been spayed.”

“Neutered?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” A neutered dog was of zero value, and Sam stopped feeding them. I made an effort to unclench my hands. “How have the dogs survived?”

“You know, folks around town feel sorry for them . . .”

The cowbell jangled.

The clerk straightened and glanced in that direction. Her cheeks flamed and her tongue flickered out to moisten her lips.

I turned.

A sheriff’s deputy charged to the bathroom, disappeared for a few moments, then reappeared and sauntered toward us, replacing fallen items on the shelves. His ordinary brown hair was the only average thing about him. He was otherwise a walking modern-day Adonis, his face chiseled by a master carver. He finally looked up and smiled at the clerk, exposing more teeth than the Osmond family, and seemed to enjoy her reaction to his arrival.

My hand automatically reached to fluff my hair. I stopped and squared my oversized glasses instead.

He looked at me, his eyes widening. “Hello there. I’m Bram White.”

“I’m—”

“Leaving,” the clerk said. “Goin’ to Mule Shoe. She’s a guest.”

“Darby Graham.” I glanced at his holstered pistol, then out the window at the two dogs lying under a tree. Check bounced. Sam’s been feeding ’em, but that’s gonna stop. Pound of flesh.

Deputy Bram glanced at his watch.

My neck was crawling with reasons to scratch it.

“Can I get you a Coke or somethin’?” she asked me. “It shouldn’t be long.” The clerk moved toward an ancient cooler. “I’d bet the wagon got slowed down by the earthquake.”

The two dogs began barking.

“See? I told ya. Betcha that’s the wagon now.” The clerk moved toward the front of the store, brushing past Bram. “Excuse me,” she said. At the window, she glanced out, then looked at the officer. “Yep. The wagon’s here.” Without taking her eyes from Bram, she said to me, “You can go now.”

Sam stuck his head in the door. “Miss Graham? Time to leave.” He spotted Bram and gave the man a quick nod.

I gave in and scratched my neck. This was none of my business. No need to get involved. No reason to draw attention to myself. Low profile. Right. I straightened. “I think I’ll wait here. Catch the next wagon.” The words came out without my thinking, but they seemed right.

Sam moved into the store. “I’m sorry, Miss Graham, there won’t be a next wagon. It’s quite a distance to the ranch and it’s getting late. You’ll need to leave now.” He wiped his hands on his slacks, glanced at the clerk, then at the deputy.

The itch was now a full-scale conviction. “Your clerk here—”

“Julia?” Sam glared at the clerk.

“Was telling me about Shadow Woman. And her dogs.”

Bram folded his arms.

Sam opened the door behind him and waved for me to exit. “Miss Graham, I really see that as none of your business.”

Go now. Run. You have nothing to offer. Well . . . almost nothing. I slowly walked over to the counter. “I know Shadow Woman’s check bounced. How much money did she owe you? And how much to cover all the dog food?” I opened my purse.

“How many times have I warned you to keep your piehole shut!” Sam said to Julia.

“I didn’t say nothin’!” Julia crossed her arms. “She figured it out on her own.”

Sam closed the door and approached me, both hands held out as if to show goodwill. “I don’t know what it is that you figured out, Miss Graham, but—”

“Please don’t try lying to me, Sam.” I pulled out my checkbook. “You figured the Anatolian dog would pay Shadow Woman’s bill, but when you saw he was neutered, he had no more value to you. The minute I leave, you’re going to have Deputy White here shoot both dogs. Your pound of flesh.” I stared into his eyes. “I intend to stop you.”

***

Author Bio

Carrie Stuart Parks is a Christy, multiple Carol, and Inspy Award–winning author. She was a 2019 finalist in the Daphne du Maurier Award for excellence in mainstream mystery/suspense and has won numerous awards for her fine art as well. An internationally known forensic artist, she travels with her husband, Rick, across the US and Canada teaching courses in forensic art to law-enforcement professionals. The author/illustrator of numerous books on drawing and painting, Carrie continues to create dramatic watercolors from her studio in the mountains of Idaho.

Social Media Links

www.CarrieStuartParks.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @CarrieStuartParks
Instagram – @CarrieStuartParks
Facebook – @CarrieStuartParksAuthor

Or Join the Conversation on Twitter – #CarrieStuartParks

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Goodreads

Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: A Thin Disguise by Catherine Bybee

Book Description

A former gun for hire and a federal agent find themselves on the right side of love but the wrong end of a bullet in this Richter installment from New York Times bestselling author Catherine Bybee.

On a fateful night in Las Vegas, FBI agent Leo Grant is working on a critical detail in a high-profile child prostitution trial when a beautiful woman jumps into the path of a bullet meant for him. Little does Leo know that the woman is Olivia, an ex-assassin who is seeking redemption one good deed at a time.

One minute, Olivia is lunging in front of Leo on the Vegas Strip. The next, she’s waking up in the hospital in a haze of pain with no memory of her past, her enemies, or even her own name.

With Olivia suffering from memory loss and completely unaware of the danger she is in, it’s up to Leo and Neil MacBain’s team of operatives to keep her safe. With Olivia and Leo both unaware of her past crimes, the two have little reason to avoid their growing attraction. Slowly her past seeps in through the cracks as she struggles to find the answers of who she is. When the veil is lifted and her dark past is staring her down, Olivia must turn her back on Leo and the love she can never allow herself to have, and race to find her would-be killer.

***

Elise’s Thoughts

A Thin Disguise by Catherine Bybee delves into forgiveness, love, and redemption. There are very few authors that can write a riveting mystery with gripping characters. Bybee does both along with humorous dialogue, a lot of action, and romance.

The story has FBI Agent Leo Grant working a protective detail for a child witness against a Russian mob boss engaging in sex trafficking. Olivia Naught, a former assassin and Richter student, is working the same detail for MacBain Security, keeping her eye on the witness and the people protecting her. Although Olivia knows about Leo, he knows nothing about her. They meet on the Las Vegas Strip where Olivia takes a bullet meant for Leo. Following this incident, she suffers amnesia. To protect her and to make Olivia a permanent part of the team, MacBain Security seizes upon the opportunity of her memory loss to show her, with help from the smitten Leo, the new life she could have if she no longer worked alone. As Olivia’s memories return, she feels guilt and unworthy of love because of her past. The team, Leo, and Olivia try to figure out who is responsible for the shooting, while the unlikely pairing of Leo, an FBI Agent and Olivia, a former assassin, navigate their personal feelings and chemistry for each other.

Olivia realizes how much she cares for the team and decides to disappear, fearful if she stays, she will jeopardize their lives. She has wit, strength, and intelligence. Bybee does an excellent job is peeling away all the layers of this female protagonist.

The Bybee readers are once again treated to another wonderful story. The team of Claire Kelly, Cooper Lockman, Jax Simon, Sasha and A.J. Hoffman and Neil and Gwen McBain joined by Olivia and Leo are riveting characters. They are not only a team but a pseudo family who care, protect, and do anything for each other. It is a story of characters who survive in spite of the circumstances of their pasts. Hopefully, this series will continue with a lot of future books that have this team of characters. It is one of those series that should have a book out every year.

***

Elise’s Author Interview

Elise Cooper: This series has characters from previous books?

Catherine Bybee: If someone is a Bybee reader they know there will be glimpses of character crossovers between series. I hope to continue writing with this team. It comes down to the publisher asking for more books from the Richter Series. I would love to write a Richter espionage book every year.

EC: Olivia is from previous books?

CB: She showed up in Sasha’s book, Say It Again, and briefly in the first book of this series, Changing The Rules, along with Leo. Each book can be read on their own.

EC: You definitely redeemed Olivia in this book?

CB: She was an assassin, but I wanted her to be sympathetic. The only way I could do that is to have her get Transient Amnesia. Once she could not remember anything she became the person who was a student at Richter. She felt connected to the team and knows she can count on them. She allowed herself to feel for others.

EC: How would you describe assassin Olivia?

CB: She was afraid to love because she did not want anything to happen to those she cared about. After she had graduated from Richter, she thought she was being a spy who was good and altruistic. She did not see the sinister side because she was young and naïve. She wanted to connect but would not allow herself to. Both Olivia’s are bold, stubborn, and independent.

EC: How would you describe the relationship between Leo and Olivia?

CB: A tug of war. In the beginning she was in charge, but after she is shot, he gets some control until she gets her memory back. Once that happens, she has an internal battle. Overall, they are two peas in a pot that are attracted to each other. She would not have fallen for him if he was not an FBI Agent. I think she was more of a teaser than Leo.

EC: Do you think Sasha, the lead of the book Say It Again, is similar to Olivia?

CB: No, they are different. Sasha is not as damaged or jaded as Olivia. If Sasha put a bullet in somebody, she knew why she was doing it. Olivia is the alias character who never got a say in who she killed. Sasha had people who loved her as well as freedoms in her life whereas Olivia is always on the run. Sasha did care for Olivia and made sure she got what she needed to survive. Sasha and the team were a pseudo-family. In all my books the family is not blood relatives because of my own personal life.

EC: Who do you identify more with, Sasha or Olivia?

CB: Sasha is the hero to my own heart. She is the best operative. I could see Sasha as a heroine on the big screen. Sasha can be clandestine and lethal, but she is also someone who supports other women. Olivia knew if the chips would fall, Sasha would have her back.

EC: How would you describe Leo?

CB: He gave Olivia humanity and heart. He is outgoing, loyal, and assertive, helping Olivia make choices in her life.

EC: Claire and Jax, the younger generation, are not the same personality types as Sasha and Olivia?

CB: They have more of a sense of humor, are spunkier, and more demonstrative. I think that is because they were never faced with the sinister side of Richter. Sasha actually helped Claire get out, so she did not turn into Olivia. Claire and Jax are huggers and more happy- go- lucky. What I wanted to show is how different people from the same place have different home lives with different families.

EC: How were you able to write about the details of a sniper?

CB: I own certain weapons. Since I am a successful single female, I am not afraid of having weapons to protect me. I have used many of the guns I describe. What is interesting and ironic is that I found out the teams I made up exist and I got it right. If I think about it, then it probably has been done professionally.

EC: What about your next books?

CB: The next Richter book will be Jax’s story. The title is An Unexpected Distraction, out in November of this year. This book will come full circle, but I am hoping there is a clamoring for more in the series. I love writing these characters and want to write them for some time.

I am currently working on a non-espionage book, but more women’s fiction, set in San Diego. It is family driven and inspired by my own life. I have to deal with putting my elderly father in an assisted living residence. It is hard to try to create, while taking care of someone else.

THANK YOU!!