Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for LOST HEART IN KING MANOR on this WOW! Blog Tour.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an about the author section, and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
Some secrets are worth killing for.
And some hearts don’t break quietly.
At 45, Gabby Heart isn’t looking for drama—just quiet days on Dost Island running her village gift shop, teaching art, and keeping her past tucked safely away. But when her mother suffers a sudden health crisis, Gabby is pulled into a storm of family secrets, betrayal, and a dark legacy buried within the walls of the once-grand King Manor.
What was supposed to be a safe place for her mother’s recovery becomes the backdrop for a chilling mystery. Strange incidents begin to unfold, and it becomes clear: someone inside King Manor has a deadly agenda.
As a hurricane traps Gabby inside the sprawling estate, she’s forced to work alongside two very different men—her maddeningly attractive officemate and a charming new neighbor, both hiding dark secrets. One man may want her heart. The other may want her dead. But can she trust her instincts before it’s too late?
Publisher: Independently Published (April 15, 2025)
ISBN: 979-8280071773
ASIN: B0F2ZML3M9
Print length: 347 pages (also available as ebook)
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
LOST HEART IN KING MANOR (Mysteries of the Heart Series Book #1) by Celeste Fenton is a romantic suspense/mystery mash-up with gothic elements set on an island off the Massachusetts coast in King Manor, a historic mansion turned into a senior rehabilitation and research center with a hurricane looming. This first book in the Mysteries of the Heart series by this new-to-me author kept me turning the pages well into the night.
Gabby Heart is a talented artist and children’s book illustrator who lives on Dort Island. She receives a call from the island while she is away getting her daughter settled for college in Michigan. Her mother is having problems on her own and when she falls and needs a hip replacement, she agrees to move to King Manor which is a senior rehab/research center on the island. The manor is full of secrets and danger.
The slow-burn romance has Gabby torn between two men, Rick and Jay. Both have secrets and motives that kept me guessing about who to trust almost to the end of the story. The mystery plot is well paced throughout the story with plenty of twists that had me continually changing my mind about what was really going on and who to trust. The historic manor with its secret passages adds to the gothic feel and the hurricane adds to the sense of dread, fear, and suspense.
I enjoyed this book with its mix of genres, well-paced plot, and engaging cast of characters.
I recommend this book, which is easy to read and entertaining and I am looking forward to reading more in this series.
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About the Author
Celeste Fenton holds an M.Ed. and Ph.D. in education and has over thirty years’ experience in higher education. Her writing is fueled by a lifelong love of mystery, a fascination with the complexities of the human heart, and just enough real-world experience to keep things interesting. A widow, mother of adult twin sons, proud grandmother, dog lover, and semi-retired professor living in Florida, she weaves imagination with insight to create stories that are both emotionally rich and laced with suspense.
When she’s not writing, reading, or plotting her next twist, she’s often off exploring small towns across America—setting out solo for month-long adventures, much to the awe (and occasional alarm) of friends and family. Her latest obsessions include escape rooms, mastering the perfect miter cut for a DIY bathroom remodel, and making the impossible decision of where to travel next.
In this romantic suspense series filled with intrigue, danger, and second chances, The Mysteries of a Heart Series follows the journey of Gabby Heart, a sharp-witted illustrator with an uncanny knack for stumbling into adventures of a lifetime and secrets worth killing for.
With each book unraveling a new mystery and deepening the emotional ties between characters, The Mysteries of a Heart blends pulse-pounding suspense with slow-burn romance and proves that sometimes the most dangerous secrets are the ones hidden in the heart.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for MURDER AT THE WEDDING (Modern Midwife Mysteries Book #1) by Christine Knapp on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book 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 Promoamp giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Birth, death, mayhem, and murder…..
Maeve O’Reilly Kensington loves her job as a nurse-midwife at Creighton Memorial Hospital in the quintessential New England seaside town of Langford. Nothing could bring her more pleasure than helping women usher new life into the world… except possibly having a child of her own with her husband, Will. In the meantime, she’s happy to celebrate the families of those she treats, and content to support her husband in his newly formed catering business.
However when Creighton Memorial’s Chief Obstetrician suddenly drops dead at his daughter’s extravagant wedding reception, catered by Will, Maeve’s two worlds collide in the worst possible way. Suddenly murder is on the menu, and Maeve is desperate to help her husband and find out who killed the doctor.
With the help of her wealthy, acerbic sister Meg and quick-witted Boston Irish mother, Maeve sets out to solve a murder and clear her husband’s name. Can she stay one step ahead of the killer? Or will they strike again… this time closer to home?
Genre: Cozy Mystery Published by: Gemma Halliday Publishing Publication Date: June 10, 2022 Number of Pages: 249 ISBN: 9798835432134 (pbk) Series: Modern Midwife Mystery Series, Book 1
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
MURDER AT THE WEDDING (Modern Midwife Mysteries Book #1) by Christine Knapp is an exciting and intricately plotted start to a new cozy mystery series featuring a nurse-midwife who becomes involved in a murder investigation with her family and friends. This new to me author pulled me into the story, and I was so involved with the clues, crimes, and the entire cast of characters that I read this book completely in one sitting.
Maeve O’Reilly Kensington is a midwife at a New England hospital. She loves her work, her husband, and her family. The head of her OB department’s daughter is getting married, and her husband’s new catering company is handling the reception. Suddenly, the father of the bride collapses and dies after giving his toast to the newlyweds. It was not natural causes.
Maeve is determined to help her husband prove his company or employees were not responsible, and she also wants to find out who killed the doctor. Her police detective brother tells her to stay out of the investigation, but Maeve and her sister Meg are determined to get to the truth. Can she discover the killer before the killer decides she knows too much?
This is a wonderful read with fully developed characters and a perfectly paced cozy mystery plot. Maeve and her family are realistically written with the foibles of any large loving family. Maeve’s family is contrasted well by her rich and snobby in-laws and their family who wish Will would enter the family investment company rather than be a caterer. Maeve’s profession as a midwife is intertwined throughout the story with many different situations she encounters, both emotionally difficult and easy, and all are described with medical details. This is just one of those stories you begin to read, and you become immediately immersed in the characters and plot. I love it when that happens.
I highly recommend this new cozy mystery and cannot wait for the next in the Modern Midwife Mysteries series!
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Excerpt
The parking lot at St. Andrew’s Episcopal was filled almost to capacity. Despite a recent visit to the car wash, my Jeep looked out of place next to all the Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, Jaguars, and Porsches.
I took out and quickly scanned the engraved linen cream invitation. It read:
Matrimonial Ceremony of
Charlotte Alexis Whitaker
and
Brooks James Hawthorne IV
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
Langford, Massachusetts
Saturday, the eighth of June, at two o’clock in the afternoon
As I approached the massive church, I saw all the pink plantings and railings wrapped in white tulle with pink peonies at precise intervals. It was a floral tour de force that must have taken an army of gardeners and florists a few days to accomplish. Inside there were pink roses, peonies, and hydrangeas everywhere. The scene was right out of InStyle Magazine. I wondered, were there any pink flowers left on the East Coast? On the West Coast?
As I squeezed into the last row, a large choir serenaded the full house in the loft above the congregation.
The choir began to sing “My Spirit Sang All Day” as Mrs. Whitaker, resplendent in a strapless, rose silk Carolina Herrera with a vibrant pink cabbage rose behind one ear and a necklace of marble-sized, green South Sea pearls, was ushered to the left front pew. Really? Strapless for the mother of the bride? Well, she does look amazing.
A hush fell over the crowd. The stained-glass doors closed, and the groom and his men filed to the altar.
Did one have to be six feet two, gorgeous, and ripped to be in this wedding party?
As the first strands of Wagner filled the air, the doors opened, and down the aisle came Anastasia Bleeker. She was one of the bride’s four-year-old charges at Miss Bloomfield’s School, where wealthy, pregnant women enrolled their offspring-to-be to claim a coveted spot. Anastasia was wearing a white tulle fairy-tale gown with a dark rose-colored sash. A circle of petite, light pink roses and baby’s breath crowned her chin length, straight, white-blonde hair. She carried a small, white wicker basket in one hand, and with the other, she started to drop pale pink rose petals down the long aisle.
Channeling Lady Di, I thought.
Next came the ring bearer, Barrington Cabot. He was another nursery school trust-fund-baby-in-the-making in white linen shorts and jacket and a head of black, curly hair. Then six breathtaking models, or rather bridesmaids, dressed in rose-colored tulle skirts and pale pink lace wrap blouses, floated down the aisle carrying white and pink hydrangeas wrapped in rose-colored ribbons. They looked like an upscale version of an ad for the United Colors of Benetton.
After a slight pause, the stained-glass doors parted again, and Dr. Whitaker appeared in his morning suit, standing at Charlotte’s right side. She was breathtaking in a Vera Wang white silk ball gown glittering with thousands of tiny seed pearls. A deep rose satin ribbon wrapped around her bouquet of white peonies. Her Belgian lace veil trailed behind her down the aisle.
The ceremony went on amid candlelight, roses, and organ music. It was like being in a dream, albeit a very, very expensive dream.
Finally, vows were exchanged, there were no objections, and Charlotte and Brooks were off to the photo-taking session in a vintage, white Bentley. As they left, the guests milled about outside the church for a bit and then headed to the reception.
Evelyn Greyson, the sixtyish director of Obstetric Nursing, stood at the top of the church stairs as I exited. She was dressed in a powder blue suit with a short jacket with peplum and knee-length, fitted skirt. A pearl necklace, her ever-present pearl brooch, and small pearl stud earrings completed the look. Her graying hair was, as usual, in her trademark chignon.
“Beautiful wedding,” I said.
“Magnificent,” Evelyn replied. “Dr. Whitaker wouldn’t have it any other way. See you at the reception, dear.” And then she strode off to her car.
Evelyn always agreed with everything Dr. Whitaker said and did. She worshipped him. Did she also have an unrequited crush on him?
I quickly greeted a few colleagues but didn’t linger because I wanted to see how Will was doing.
The Country Club was buzzing with activity when I drove through the porte cochère, pulled up to the main entrance, and handed my keys to a valet. The grand foyer was glittering with hundreds of candles and still more massive floral arrangements in blush pink. A string quartet played Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” beside the grand staircase.
Out on the veranda, the wedding party was taking pictures before an expanse of green lawn and brilliant blue sky and sea. It would be a wedding album worthy of its own issue of Town & Country.
Large silver serving trays were circulated among the guests, offering tiny crab cakes topped with dill aioli, mini beef Wellingtons, smoked salmon pinwheels, and tomato and goat cheese on toast points. There were massive silver bowls of fresh shrimp on ice on round marble tables.
“Maeve! Maeve! Over here!” one of the midwives called. Looking around the ballroom, which held table settings for six hundred guests, I saw that the Creighton Memorial staff was on the right side of the room while family and friends were on the left. I waved to the midwives but walked over to the table where Grand, Will’s grandmother, was sitting with Will’s parents, Will’s sister, Eloise, her husband, Taylor, and Will’s younger brother, Teddy.
“Hello, Maeve.” William stood and extended his hand. Never a hug, never a kiss on the cheek, just a handshake.
“Hello, so nice to see you all,” I replied, shaking his hand as I nodded to the table. I saw that Lydia, my mother-in-law, was outfitted in a mint green silk cocktail dress with a large diamond necklace and matching drop earrings. She tilted her head toward me and smiled but said nothing.
“The Country Club is such a perfect wedding venue,” I offered.
“Quite lovely,” she replied.
“You look beautiful, Maeve,” Grand said.
“Thanks, Grand.”
“Sweet dress,” Lydia said.
Sweet dress? What, am I five years old? Lydia was a master of the backhanded compliment, and she was not my biggest fan. Keep it together, Maeve.
Eloise was in a sleeveless, pale green and cream striped dress with an emerald and diamond pendant and earrings. Like mother, like daughter.
“Well,” I said, “enjoy the meal. Will has been creating a masterpiece.” I saw William’s and Lydia’s smiles tighten. They did not respond. They were not pleased with Will’s chosen profession.
“I can’t wait,” Grand said.
I gave a little wave and headed over to find my table.
Scanning the room, I saw my sister, Meg, cross her eyes and raise her wine glass in a mock salute. Meg was the Langford real estate agent of choice for the wealthy and had been invited along with other top business leaders of the town. She knew I had just navigated a minefield with my emotionally distant in-laws. As soon as I reached my table, I quickly sat down and took a long drink of chardonnay.
Herend Chinese Bouquet china in pink, Gorham Newport Scroll sterling, and Baccarat crystal decorated each setting.
My gosh, they’ll have to pat everyone down before they leave.
Murray Alfond, the famed orchestra leader, turned on his mic and said, “Please be seated while the bridal party arrives.”
There was sustained applause as Charlotte and Brooks triumphantly paraded into the ballroom. “The bride and groom will dance to a classic personally chosen by Brooks,” Alfond announced.
“The Very Thought of You” wafted through the room as Charlotte and Brooks took to the floor. They obviously had attended many ballroom dancing classes in preparation for this moment, and they danced impeccably.
Then the entire wedding party sashayed to “Fly Me to the Moon.” It was like watching La La Land. They were all perfectly coiffed, dressed, and ready for filming. Plus, they could dance.
When they were done and returned to their seats, Alfond intoned, “Please bow your heads while Reverend Lucas Mathers says grace.”
The Episcopal pastor of St. Andrew’s, Reverend Mathers, was slightly rotund with flushed pink cheeks. He ran his hand through receding black hair, obviously feeling the weight of this moment. Then he bowed his head.
“Dear Holy Father, thank you for this glorious day! What a wonderful celebration! We ask you to bless Charlotte and Brooks, as well as their families and friends, and we beseech you to grant this special couple a life together that is happy and blessed. We further ask you to bless this fabulous repast and grant your blessings on all present. Amen.”
Gee, that was short. He must be hungry.
A phalanx of waiters served the first course of spring green and white asparagus spears with shaved red onion. As we started in on the delicate vegetables, the best man, Ry Farmington, took the microphone and asked all to raise their glasses in a toast to the couple.
“Brooks has been like a brother to me since our first day at Hollis in Harvard Yard. We’ve seen many adventures together—none of which, out of respect for your patience and his reputation, I will go into here.”
He paused for applause and a few knowing hoots.
“In the words of the Bard,
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have made a pair of stairs to marriage
Please rise and toast to their lives together.”
Six hundred guests rose and toasted the couple.
Then came truffle-scented tenderloin with dauphinoise potatoes and tender baby carrots. I snuck a look first at the Whitaker table and then at William and Lydia. They all seemed to be enjoying the meal, and I prayed that all the reviews would be excellent.
For dessert, a chocolate mousse with a crème brûlée center was placed at each setting. I knew the wedding cake would be cut and served later.
Just then, the wait staff re-entered the room. They set a Baccarat champagne flute filled with pink champagne at each place. A hush came over the ballroom. Dr. Whitaker was standing at the head table, staring the crowd into silence. Then he picked up his glass and smiled adoringly at Charlotte.
Everyone listened as he gave a long, loving toast to his daughter. Finally, he took a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, “Charlotte, your mother and I found this magnificent champagne in France a few years ago and had it shipped in for your wedding.”
Mrs. Whitaker stared at Dr. Whitaker with a huge Miss America smile.
Dr. Whitaker continued, “Would everyone please rise and toast my lovely daughter Charlotte and her husband, Brooks.” He lifted his crystal flute to his lips and took a sip while beaming at Charlotte.
Immediately, his cheeks turned scarlet, and he started to wheeze. The crystal dropped from his hand and shattered on the ground. He clutched at his throat while making extensive gasping attempts to pull in a breath. Then he went limp and collapsed to the floor. The room erupted into pandemonium.
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Author Bio
Christine Knapp practiced as a nurse-midwife for many years. A writer of texts and journal articles, she is now thrilled to combine her love of midwifery and mysteries as the author of the Modern Midwife Mysteries. Christine currently narrates books for the visually and print impaired. A dog lover, she lives near Boston.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for MURDER UNDERREDWOOD MOON: A Witch Paranormal Murder Mystery (Murder, Tea & Crystals Book #1) by Sherri L. Dodd on this Black Tide Book Tour.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an about the author section, and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
At the age of eight, Arista Kelly was frantically swept up by her parents and whisked off to an isolated town in the California redwoods. Two days later, her parents were gone.
Now at the age of twenty-three, she has settled quite nicely into an eclectic lifestyle, much like her great aunt, and guardian since childhood, Bethie. She enjoys the use of herbs and crystals to help her commune with the energy and nature around her and finds pleasure in the company of her beloved pet, Royal. Usually quite satisfied with her mundane life high in the Santa Cruz Mountains, life becomes unsettling when a new recurring vision of an ominous tattoo as well as increased activity from the ghostly presence within her own cottage invade her once-harmonious existence.
But life in this mountain sanctuary takes an even darker turn when the body of Arista’s former classmate is found in the nearby river. As other young women fall prey to a suspected serial killer, Arista realizes that the terror is coming to her.
MURDER UNDER REDWOOD MOON: A Witch Paranormal Murder Mystery (Murder, Tea & Crystals Book #1) by Sherri L. Dodd is a paranormal romance/murder mystery and the first book in this trilogy. This is an interesting mix of a young adult white witch coming into her more advanced powers, finding love, and a serial killer crime mystery all intertwined.
Arista has grown up and learned of witchcraft since the age of eight with her father’s aunt. The family has a history of paranormal powers being passed down through the generations and they believe Arista will be the strongest of them all. When girls Arista knows are found murdered, she and her aunt take measures to protect themselves, but it may not be enough to turn back the attraction of a killer set on Arista.
This first book in the trilogy does have a complete solution to this murder mystery, but the overarching family plot with Arista’s dark magic uncle looking for her is only partially answered. This book was a mixed bag for me, but still strong enough for me to continue reading the trilogy. The beginning felt as though a lot of information and too many characters were being introduced to close together, but it begins to settle down and is easier to read about a quarter of the way through. Also, while the information about crystals, magic, spells, and nature were interesting for some reason the author keeps interjecting how all the young male characters are devout Catholics, which did not seem pertinent and makes Arista’s boyfriend, Shane, a bit of a stretch. The romance is mild and gave me the feeling that this trilogy is better targeted at a young adult readership than a more mature paranormal romance reader.
This is an entertaining, easy-to-read paranormal book and I will continue the trilogy to discover what happens to Arista in future books.
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About the Author
Sherri was raised in southeast Texas. Walking barefoot most days and catching crawdads as they swam the creek beds, she had a love for all things free and natural. Her childhood ran rampant with talk of ghosts, demons, and backcountry folklore. This inspired her first short story for sale about a poisonous flower that shot toxins onto children as they smelled it. Her classmate bought it for all the change in his pocket. It was not long after that her mother packed the two of them up and headed to the central coast of California. She has ping-ponged throughout the area ever since.
Her first real step into writing was the non-fiction fitness book, Mom Looks Great – The Fitness Program for Moms published in 2005, and maintaining its accompanying blog. Now, transmuting the grief of her father’s passing, she has branched into Fiction, specifically the genre of Paranormal Thriller with generous dashes of Magick Realism! Her Murder, Tea & Crystals Trilogy released book one – Murder Under Redwood Moon – in March 2024. Book two – Moonset on Desert Sands – released in March 2025, and the final book in the series will release October 2025!
MURDER AT THE WHITE PALACE (A Sparks & Bainbridge Mystery Book #6) by Allison Montclair is an intriguing historical mystery that has not one, but two mysteries, past and present, that may be connected and many personal changes occurring in the lives of the two main protagonists. Each book has a unique mystery that is solved, but the main characters continue to evolve and for continuity, I feel these books are best read in order of publication.
The Right Sort of Marriage Bureau is doing well, so Gwendolyn Bainbridge decides she and her partner, Iris Sparks, should throw a New Year’s Eve party for their clientele. With limited availability this close to the new year, they look at an old club being repaired by Iris’ boyfriend, Archie Spelling. While investigating the basement, a wall crumbles and a long dead body is discovered.
Though they both want to be done with murder investigations, the recovered body matches some information surrounding that of a missing thief from a trio of robbers from before the war which all tied back to Archie and Des’ murdered fathers. Are they safe as they investigate the cold cases, or could the past be coming back to clean up any ties to a murderer among them?
The murder mysteries, past and present, are intertwined throughout a more intense and personal character driven story line than previous books. Gwen is now free to control her own life and destiny and is finding freedom intoxicating, while Iris is on track to make more permanent decisions regarding her personal life. The duo’s true friendship, no matter their differences or what occurs in their personal lives, is a reason that I love this series. This story leaned more towards the protagonist’s development, which could change the direction of the entire series, than the mysteries, but the mysteries themselves were interesting and well plotted. This addition to the series does leave a bit of a cliffhanger, but it is in Iris’ personal life and not a part of the mystery plot line.
I highly recommend this historical mystery series and continue to look forward to following Bainbridge in Sparks.
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About the Author
ALLISON MONTCLAIR grew up devouring hand-me-down Agatha Christie paperbacks and James Bond movies. As a result of this deplorable upbringing, Montclair became addicted to tales of crime, intrigue, and espionage. She now spends her spare time poking through the corners, nooks, and crannies of history, searching for the odd mysterious bits and transforming them into novels of her own. The Right Sort of Man is her debut novel.
Haunted by her family’s unsolved murder sixteen years ago, Leonora Spencer is familiar with death. As an assistant in her elderly uncle’s London morgue, she uses her photographic memory to catalogue details for his coroner reports. She also isn’t opposed to helping during postmortems, when his skilled hands begin to shake. After a thief breaks into the morgue and steals a locket from a corpse, Leo is determined to understand why, even if it means going against Detective Inspector Jasper Reid’s express orders to keep her nose out of it.
A closely guarded past
Born and bred in the East End slums, Jasper Reid’s recent promotion to the detective’s branch at Scotland Yard is a long step up from his murky past…a past he can’t afford to reveal to anyone. The last thing he needs is a muddled case connecting to the criminals he once associated with—and to the well-known eccentric Leo Spencer. Her stubborn resolve to undermine Jasper’s investigation tests his patience and the complicated history they share.
A murderer closing in
When the missing locket and a handful of suspicious deaths point to a mysterious buried object, Jasper grudgingly accepts Leo’s help to locate it. But someone is watching, and the more they uncover about a deadly blackmail plot, the closer Leo and Jasper get to becoming the killer’s next targets.
SHADOW AT THE MORGUE (Spencer & Reid Mysteries Book #1) by Cara Devlin is an exciting start to a new historical mystery series set in Victorian London in the 1880’s and featuring a young woman who does not conform to society’s rules and a newly promoted Detective Inspector. This is a story that starts off strong and continually kept me turning the pages with each new clue and twist in the case.
Fifteen years ago, Leonora ‘Leo’ Spenser was the sole surviving member of her family who were all brutally murdered. Now living with her uncle and aunt, she is an unofficial assistant to her uncle in a London morgue. With her photographic memory and her curiosity, she catalogues details for his coroner’s reports. Her best friend is a young female matron in the women and children’s side of the city jail while all others find her work in the morgue strange and unladylike.
Leo’s uncle is called away one evening and a man with a knife threatens Leo and locks her in a back room and then leaves after stealing a dead man’s case. Detective Inspector Jasper Reid is called and discovers Leo in the back room. While Jasper is wondering what was so important in the case, with Leo’s memory she knows nothing important was in it, but a dead woman in the morgue is missing a locket.
As Leo and Jasper follow the clues, more dead bodies are discovered and tied to the case. Then they uncover a blackmail plot that ties all the missing pieces together, but it also places them in the killer’s path and makes them disposable.
This is a great introduction to these new protagonists, and the mystery plot was full of red herrings and twists that continually surprised me. I love intelligent characters like Leo who buck convention and are ahead of the times they live in, but she also has a mystery in her past that can play out in future books. Jasper also has a past that was only touched on and I am sure will play into future stories. The dialogue between the two is snappy and while it can seem as if they are fighting like siblings, their feelings are a little more involved than that. The emotional ties between Leo and Jasper will be interesting to follow and see how they progress in future books. The author does an excellent job with her descriptions of atmosphere and historical depictions of London.
I highly recommend this new historical mystery and am looking forward to reading many more in this series!
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About the Author
Cara is an author, reader, and history lover. She reads and writes across genres, but her heart is reserved for romantic historical fiction and mystery. Her Bow Street Duchess books are fast-paced historical mysteries featuring a slow-burn romance taking place in Regency London. The series begins with Murder at the Seven Dials. Cara lives in rural New England with her family, where she is at work on her next series, the Spencer & Reid Mysteries.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SHADOWED WITNESS (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #2) by Angela Carlisle on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, and excerpt from the book, and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
A haunting attack. A killer in the shadows. A protective love.
Murder–that’s what photographer Allye Jessup knows she witnessed as she departed her studio one evening. Waking with bruises on her neck and a foggy memory, she believes she survived an attack, but everyone seems to think she simply sustained a head injury from falling down the stairs outside her studio. Plagued by an undiagnosed health condition, she is torn between the haunting reality of what she may have seen and the possibility that her mind is playing tricks on her.
Without proof the other victim ever existed, Detective Eric Thornton can hardly declare the area a murder scene. Still, he adds Allye’s report to his already full caseload. But when new evidence surfaces to support her claims, Eric must stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer and uncover the truth before the suspect closes in on Allye again.
Genre: Romantic Suspense Published by: Bethany House Publishers Publication Date: July 1, 2025 Number of Pages: 336 ISBN: 9780764242519 (ISBN10: 0764242512) Series: The Secrets of Kincaid, Book 2 (Amazon | Goodreads)
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
SHADOWED WITNESS (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #2) by Angela Carlisle is a fast-paced Christian romantic suspense featuring a female protagonist who does not know if she can believe what she remembers about a murder she witnessed, or did she? This is the second book in the Secrets of Kincaid series, and it can easily be read as a standalone book.
Photographer Allye Jessup has always been a little clumsy, but lately she has had mysterious symptoms that are severely affecting her daily life. As she waits for further testing, she is leaving her office one night and believes she hears something behind her building. She gets off a scream before she is choked into unconsciousness, but when she wakes up, the mayor who finds her believes she just fell down her office stairs and knocked herself out. When she is attacked in her home, the story is so strange that even her friend, one of the town’s detectives, is having trouble believing her.
Detective Eric Thornton wants to believe Allye, but there is no proof at either scene and he is consumed with other cases. When a body surfaces in a shallow grave in the park, it appears to have evidence that proves Allye’s story. Could Allye have seen more than she knows and really be in danger?
This is a page turner full of suspense and unknowns. Allye is dealing with mysterious health issues and does not want her family to worry, so she is bearing the burden alone until she is diagnosed, but it also puts her in even more danger. Eric has his own problems not only with his workload, but with family trauma while growing up. Even with all their personal problems, they feel an attraction and the threats to Allye make Eric more protective. This is a Christian romantic suspense and with Allye’s health issues there are no sex scenes. The suspense is constant and kept me turning the pages. I only guessed part of the crime plot conclusion and the solution to Allye’s health problems was a surprise until it was suggested as a cause.
I recommend this second Christian romantic suspense in this series and look forward to more.
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Excerpt
1
LIGHTS? CHECK.
Camera? Check.
Three bags and a purse? Check.
Allye Jessup looped all four sets of straps over her left shoulder and stepped out of her small second- story photography studio into a warm autumn evening. The sun had just set, but it was still light enough that the dusk- to- dawn light above the landing hadn’t kicked on yet. That wouldn’t last long, especially with the fog already beginning to move in.
Tightly gripping the rail, she started down the metal stairs. She didn’t need another fall, and the way her equilibrium had been off lately, she wasn’t taking any chances. When she was nearly at the bottom, a dull thud sounded from behind the building. Someone stifled a cry. Another thud.
What in the world? Allye hurried down the last few stairs and toward the noise. She slowed before she reached the corner. Fished in her pocket for her phone. She groaned silently. Not there. No telling which bag she’d stuffed it into. Or if she’d left it in her studio. Wouldn’t be the first time.
As she edged toward the back of the building, she heard a louder ka- thump as if something heavy had fallen. The sounds changed to a muted, almost rhythmic thumping. She reached the corner and peered around.
Two men. One standing back in the shadows, watching. The second man delivered another savage kick to something— no, someone— unmoving on the ground. The blow left the fallen man’s head tilted at an unnatural angle. Allye sucked in a breath.
The attacker swung around, chest heaving. Looked her straight in the eyes.
No. Allye pushed off the building and ran, bags flopping against her back and side. Pursuing footfalls pounded the gravel behind her. She didn’t dare look back. She had to get out into the open. Had to—
A heavy weight plowed into her back. She screamed. Tried to catch herself as she went down in a tangle of bags. Pain shot through her knees and wrists, but she pushed herself up. Turned to fight.
Her attacker shoved her against the side of the building. The back of her head bounced against the wall.
She screamed again. A rough hand closed around her throat, cutting off her cry and pinning her against the rough brick. Her hands flew to his, but his grip was like steel. Too tight for another scream. Just loose enough to allow her the slightest bit of oxygen.
“What do we have here?” He studied her, ignoring her strug- gles. He touched her hair, letting a curl wind around his finger, then slide off. His lips curved in a predatory grin. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
A new wave of fear skittered up her spine. She kicked, and the tip of her shoe connected solidly with his shin. He slapped her, then shifted his hold on her throat, lifting so her toes barely touched the ground. Rage glittered in his eyes.
And he started to squeeze.
She clawed at his fingers, his arm. He snatched both her hands in his free one with a grip that threatened to snap her wrists. Her vision darkened, punctuated by pinpricks of light. She tried to kick again, but he was too close and her strength was fading.
Someone shouted— the words garbled by the rushing in her ears. Hope flared.
Her attacker looked to the side, but the force of his grip didn’t diminish.
Lungs feeling ready to burst, she jerked one last time against his hold. He didn’t budge. The glimmer of hope faded.
Allye succumbed to the darkness.
“ALLYE. ALLYE!” A voice penetrated the smothering black hole of unconsciousness. Someone gripped her shoulders and gently shook her. “Are you okay?”
Allye groaned, and her throat rebelled against the sound. Pain. The attack. Panic flooded in.
She clawed her way to the light, ready to fight for her life. But rather than cooperating with her brain, her eyelids fluttered, and her body declined to move at all.
“Allye?” The voice came again, and this time she recognized it. Mayor Jennings. Not the attacker.
The edge of her panic eased. She concentrated her efforts on opening her eyes, and this time, they obeyed. Mayor Jennings leaned over her, his face a picture of concern.
“Oh, thank God, you’re awake! Are you in pain?” “Where . . . is he?” She forced the words out, her throat pro- testing every word.
Confusion etched new lines onto the mayor’s forehead. “Who?” “That man.” Allye planted her elbows in the gravel and gathered her strength to rise. Her first attempt was pitiful, and she let her head fall back against the ground. Ouch. She waited a moment and tried again. She was partially successful, and Mayor Jennings assisted her into a full sitting position. She bit back another groan and straightened her glasses as she focused on regulating her breathing. Everything hurt. Especially her throat. She raised a shaky hand to her neck. “The man . . . choking me.” She could hear the hoarseness in her voice, and every syllable scraped pain- fully across her damaged windpipe.
Mayor Jennings sat back on his heels. “There wasn’t anyone else out here.”
“A man came after me. Choked me because I saw—” The man on the ground. Could he still be alive?
She pushed to her feet. Dizziness washed over her, and her purse swung against her body. She clutched at the staircase rail- ing. Instantly, she felt the mayor’s strong hand cupping her elbow.
“Easy, Allye. You had a hard fall.” She shook her head, making the dizziness worse. She squeezed her eyes shut for a count of ten. “I didn’t fall.”
“You didn’t?” His gaze dropped to her knees, and she glanced down. Despite the harsh shadows cast by the light above the landing, she could make out the shredded mess of her leggings. She blinked and thought back.
“Well, I did fall when he was chasing me,” she corrected. “When who was chasing you?” “The man.” And she needed to see if the other person being beaten had survived— though she wasn’t sure how he could have. She shook off the mayor’s hold and stumbled toward the back of the building. He followed, hovering as if he expected her to collapse at any second.
“There was a man— men— back here,” she explained. “One of them was beating another, and the one on the ground wasn’t moving. I’m not sure he was even still alive.” She rounded the corner and stopped short, nearly losing her balance. Mayor Jennings again reached out to steady her. No one was here now. No attacker. No victim.
She spun in a slow circle, even that motion increasing her dizziness. Had she confused the buildings? She crossed the space between structures and peered into the dimly lit area behind the newspaper office. Only an industrial- size dumpster and empty parking spaces met her gaze. That didn’t match. Again she turned. What she’d seen had definitely been behind her building.
“I need to call 911. Maybe they’ll be able to find trace evidence.” “Allye, you need to go home and rest.” The mayor’s voice was gentle, fatherly. “Or get a doctor to check you out. You fell down the steps.”
“I don’t need a doctor, and I didn’t fall—” “I heard your scream from my office.” He took her arm and led her back the way they’d come. “I came outside immediately and found you at the bottom of the stairs. No one else was around.” “But—” They passed by the stairs, and her other bags lay as if she’d dropped them there. She slowed. “I need to get those.” “Let me get you to my car, then I’ll collect them for you.” “My car’s parked out front. I can drive.” “No.” His tone brooked no debate. “You hit your head and passed out. I am not letting you on the road. It wouldn’t be safe. Besides”— he winked at her—“your mother would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
She tried to muster a smile, but the attempt fell flat. Mayor Jennings and her mom had been dating for the past three months, and Allye still hadn’t quite gotten used to it. She had nothing against the man, who’d been Kincaid’s mayor for well over a de- cade and a member of their church for much longer, or against her mom for exploring the possibility of finding love again. It was just new territory.
When they’d lost Allye’s dad during what would have been his last active- duty tour in Afghanistan eighteen years ago, Julie Jessup had stepped into life as a single mom. In all these years, she’d shown little interest in dating— even after she abruptly entered the empty- nest stage when Allye’s younger brother, Derryck, was killed in a car accident at fifteen. No, she’d just thrown herself more fully into her thriving realty career and spent her free time in volunteer work. Or hovering over her remaining two children as much as they let her.
As they reached the sidewalk, the mayor decisively steered them toward the parking lot on the other side of city hall— and away from her Jetta. Allye glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t want to leave her car here and be stranded at home, but . . . the mayor was probably right about her driving. Regardless of how it came about, she had lost consciousness, and her brain still felt fuzzy. And truth be told, she didn’t have the energy to argue any further. She bit back a sigh and allowed him to lead her to his shiny black Mercedes. He insisted on helping her inside before heading back for her bags.
After hitting the locks, she slumped in the leather passenger seat and watched until he disappeared around the corner of the newspaper office. Could he be right? She replayed the moments before everything went dark. Though her memories weren’t as crisp as normal— or what had been normal until the last couple of months— they were solid. Real.
She frowned. No matter what the mayor thought, she hadn’t fallen down the steps. She’d seen someone getting attacked, and the attacker had chased her— choked her.
So where had everyone gone? And why was she still alive? None of it made any sense. But she knew what she’d seen. Felt. There was another victim out there, and the more she thought about it, the less she believed he’d be found alive. And if that was the case . . . she’d witnessed a murder tonight.
Her stomach flipped as the realization sank in. She needed to call the police, and the sooner the better. She dug in her purse for her phone but again failed to find it. She’d have to search her other bags once Mayor Jennings returned. Or just ask to borrow his phone.
When he rejoined her a moment later, she cleared her throat and grimaced at the pain. “I can’t leave until I call the police. I’m almost positive that was a murder in progress, and at the very least, the man attempted to kill me.” She saw the protest on Mayor Jennings’s face, but before he could voice it, she plowed ahead. “I know you think I just fell, but what will it hurt to have them look?” He sighed and rubbed the skin between his eyes. “How about this? I’ll call the police and have them take a look around. But first let me take care of you. The last thing you need is to be stuck out here while we wait for an available officer to arrive and investigate.”
“But they’ll need my statement.” “If they find anything, yes. And they can follow up with you with any questions they have.”
A wave of fatigue washed over her, making it hard to think. Would an extra ten or twenty minutes make a difference at this point? The men were gone, and she doubted they’d return any- time soon. And though she had no intention of admitting it, she needed to lie down. Holding herself upright was taking nearly all the energy she had left.
“Okay.” Satisfied with her one- word acquiescence, the mayor started the engine. “Am I taking you home or to the ER?”
“Home.” The ER wouldn’t do anything for bruises that she couldn’t do just as well herself, and she had enough medical bills and doctor appointments as it was. She wasn’t going to add one she didn’t need.
They pulled onto the road, and the mayor aimed his car toward her house.
“Now, tell me what you think you saw, so I can give the police an accurate description.”
Allye resisted the urge to correct his use of the word think. “I was coming down from my studio and heard what sounded like someone getting hit behind the building. I went to the corner and looked around and saw three men. One was on the ground like he’d fallen, and another was kicking him.” She swallowed. “I think I made a noise because the attacker looked up and saw me. I tried to run, but . . .”
The mayor stopped at a light and turned to look at her. “And?” “He pushed me down.” She blinked. “Or I fell. I don’t remem- ber now. But when I got up, he grabbed me. Held me against the wall and started choking me. I blacked out. Then you were there.” The light changed, and the mayor returned his attention to the road. “You said you think you saw the attack behind the building. Right or left from the alley?” “Right. And I did see it.” He didn’t respond. Tired as she was, Allye couldn’t let the silence ride for long. “How did you find me?”
“I heard you scream and came looking.” “No, I mean how was I positioned? What did you see?” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “When I came around the corner, I saw you face down at the base of the stairs. I turned you over and checked your pulse. Made sure you were breathing.” He wiped his forehead. “You scared me, Allye.”
His concern was comforting, but his statement didn’t make sense. She’d been a couple of yards past the steps when the at- tacker caught up to her. He’d pinned her against the wall, choked her, and . . . what? She had no idea what had happened afterward, but much time couldn’t have passed if the mayor had come look- ing for her when she screamed.
She realized she was holding her throat again. It still hurt, and her voice was becoming weaker the more she talked. Wasn’t that proof of her being attacked?
“I didn’t fall down the steps,” she said quietly. “I passed out because he choked me.”
“Allye”—the mayor sounded weary—“there wasn’t anyone out there with you.”
“Then why is my throat so sore?” Her raspy challenge was pitiful.
“You screamed pretty loud.” He met her eyes for a brief sec- ond before returning his attention to the road. “And that purse you’re carrying looks heavy. When you fell, it could have yanked against your neck.”
She glanced down. She normally carried the bag slung over one shoulder, but the mayor was right. It hung cross- body. She couldn’t remember doing that before leaving her studio. But with the brain fog she’d been fighting the last couple of months, that didn’t mean much. She sighed and lapsed into silence, this time for the rest of the short drive to her duplex.
When they arrived, the mayor insisted on guiding her to the door. She reluctantly agreed, but only because she felt so awful. She unlocked her duplex and allowed him to set her bags just inside.
“Are you feeling up to staying by yourself? I could call your mother for you.”
“No.” Allye forced her aching body straighter. “I’m fine— just sore. Please don’t tell my mom about tonight. I don’t want her to worry.”
The mayor frowned. “If your mom finds out you fell down the steps and I didn’t let her know—”
“She won’t.” Allye forced a grin. “I’m sure not going to tell her, and if we were the only ones there . . .”
His expression didn’t clear. “Okay.” He took her hand. “But only if you promise me you’ll go straight to bed and you’ll be careful on those steps from now on.”
“Deal.” She hadn’t fallen down the stairs, but she would con- tinue to be careful when navigating them.
He patted her hand, then released it and headed for his car. “And, Mayor Jennings?” He turned back to her. “Thank you.” He flashed the smile that had earned him nine- tenths of the vote last election cycle. “I’m always here when you need me.”
Allye closed and locked her door, then limped to a nearby recliner. She hadn’t lied to him exactly. But between the sore- ness and a renewed weight of fatigue, she didn’t have it in her to make it to her bed tonight.
***
Author Bio
Angela Carlisle resides in the hills of northern Kentucky and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and The Christian PEN. Angela’s debut novel, Secondary Target, was a Parable Weekly top seller and was included in the Library Journal Stars So Far listing. Angela is an editor by day and prefers to spend her free time reading, baking, and drinking ridiculous quantities of hot tea.
