Newlywed Chief of Police Kate Burkholder is awakened by an urgent midnight call summoning her to a suspicious fire in the woods. When she arrives at the scene, she discovers a charred body. According to the coroner, the deceased, an Amish man named Milan Swanz, was chained to a stake and burned alive. It is an appalling and eerily symbolic crime against an upstanding husband and father.
Kate knows all too well that the Amish prefer to handle their problems without interference from the outside world, and no one will speak about the murdered man. From what she’s able to piece together, Swanz led a deeply troubled life and had recently been excommunicated. But if that’s the case, why are the Amish so reluctant to talk about him? Are they protecting the memory of one of their own? Or are they afraid of something they dare not share?
When her own brother is implicated in the case, Kate finds herself not only at odds with the Amish, the world of which she was once a part, but also the English community and her counterparts in law enforcement. The investigation takes a violent turn when Kate’s life is threatened by a mysterious stranger.
To uncover the truth about the death of Milan Swanz, Kate must dive deep into the Anabaptist culture, peering into all the dark corners of its history, only to uncover a secret legacy that shatters everything she thought she knew about the Amish themselves—and her own roots.
The Burning by Linda Castillo once again is a wonderful read. She seems to have outdone herself with a horrific crime and putting her main character through the wringer.
Unfortunately, this year Linda Castillo is unable to give an interview because a close family member is seriously ill, and she needs to be at home for them. But last year in an interview she noted about this story, “Regarding the murder I want to keep things fresh. I have readers peek back into the reformation by burning someone at the stake, and another person drowned. This is what was done to the Anabaptists during the reformation.”
The plot begins with newlywed Chief of Police Kate Burkholder awakened by an urgent midnight call summoning her to a suspicious fire in the woods. When she arrives at the scene, she discovers a charred body. According to the coroner, the deceased, an Amish man named Milan Swanz, was chained to a stake and burned alive. As with most of her books, many of the victims are not well liked. In this case, Swanz loved to argue with people, had a temper, kept grudges, sought revenge, demanded obedience and submission from his family, and was basically devoid of a moral compass.
To uncover the truth about the death of Milan Swanz, Kate dives deep into the Anabaptist culture, finding all the dark corners of its history. She uncovers a secret legacy that verges on Amish vigilantism. Because of her due diligence she becomes a target, realizing that violence and ruthlessness are being used to rid the world of those who “are not fundamentally good.”
As the story unfolds, her brother Jacob, known to have argued with Milan, becomes a suspect in the killing of Swanz and is arrested. Because it is now a conflict of interest, she is ordered off the case but decides to work the case behind the scenes with her husband, John Tomasetti, an Ohio BCI (Bureau of Criminal Investigation) investigator, to prove her brother’s innocence. She knows she must continue to investigate because one of the law enforcement officers, working for the Ohio BCI, assigned to the case, has tunnel vision and only sees her brother as the suspect. Working together, Tomasetti and Kate must find the killer to clear her reputation and her brother. In the story she is attacked three times, sometimes brutally, making readers wonder if she should take some self-defense classes.
It is very interesting how Castillo explores Kate and Jacob’s relationship. He is her older brother, someone who she has looked up to as a child. She knows him well and realizes he is not forth coming with the answers to her questions. Although she sees him as honorable, she also recognizes he is keeping secrets.
There are also glimpses in the book about the relationship between Tomasetti and Kate. They dance around the subject of starting a family. A powerful book quote, “the part of me has always wanted children. The idea terrifies the part of me that is a cop and knows too much about the dark side of a world that can be cruel.”
Linda commented last year, ““I loved writing this book. Kate is still adjusting to being married and does feel the tick of her biological clock regarding having children. This is something that a lot of women have in the back of their mind, how long can I wait before I have a baby? This is where she is right now. I think for the next several books she will only be married. Remember Tomasetti had his first wife murdered. He is cool with her being a cop and police chief. In fact, he nicknamed her ‘Chief.’ But how much will he put up with if she is endangered or gets hurt? This will come to a head at some point. But in The Burning book, it is simmering in the background. If she does have a child, does she want to risk her children being without a mother. This is a huge question. This is a high-risk profession. Kate and Tomasetti must figure it out. It is something that will be addressed starting with The Burning book.”
Per usual this story is a winner with many twists and turns. Kate takes a dark and twisted journey with evil and danger lurking everywhere, putting both her life and career in jeopardy. A bonus is how Castillo explore Kate’s personal life and feelings.
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About the Author
Linda Castillo is the author of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Kate Burkholder series, set in the world of the Amish. The first book, Sworn to Silence, was adapted into a Lifetime original movie titled An Amish Murder starring Neve Campbell as Kate Burkholder. Castillo is the recipient of numerous industry awards including a nomination by the International Thriller Writers for Best Hardcover, the Mystery Writers of America’s Sue Grafton Memorial Award, and an appearance on the Boston Globe’s shortlist for best crime novel. In addition to writing, Castillo’s other passion is horses. She lives in Texas with her husband and is currently at work on her next book.
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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.
UNSUB (An UNSUB Novel Book #1) by Meg Gardiner is the gripping first book in this crime thriller series that I am late to the party reading, but better late than never. This story introduces readers to the series protagonist, Caitlin Hendrix as a detective, before she joins the FBI’s Behavioral Unit.
In the 1990’s, the San Francisco Bay area was terrorized by a serial killer known as the Prophet. Caitlin’s father was the lead investigator on the case, and it destroyed his mental health and marriage. Caitlin still has nightmares from that time but has grown to be an investigator like her father.
Now, twenty years later, the Prophet has returned and is determined to begin again where he left off and he is excited to pull Caitlin into the case, to destroy her as he did her father. This is Caitlin’s first major case, and she is determined to decipher the Prophet’s twisted poems and messages and stop the carnage. While her father and mother warn her away from this case, Caitlin believes she can stop the killer and avoid the mistakes her father made, but can she catch the Prophet before he destroys her?
This is an edge-of-your-seat, cat and mouse thriller that I could not put down, even when the descriptions of the Prophet’s kills were quite graphic. Caitlin is a complex protagonist with a background that is revealed with flashback personal information placed throughout the story. The Prophet is vicious and determined. Each encounter ramped up my anxiety and dread. Be aware, this is a serial killer thriller, so the violence is up front and in your face. All the secondary characters are believable, and you never know who will live to the end. The climax is savage and answered many questions but left a thread to follow into the next book as well as moving Caitlin to the FBI.
I highly recommend this serial killer crime thriller and cannot wait to dive into book two, Into the Black Nowhere.
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About the Author
Meg Gardiner is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of seventeen thrillers. Her latest is Shadowheart, featuring FBI profiler Caitlin Hendrix. The Real Book Spy calls it “A mind-trip of a story.” Booklist says, “As always, the writing is exquisite and the story is perfectly crafted.” UNSUB, the first novel in the series, won the 2018 Barry Award for Best Thriller. The Dark Corners of the Night was bought by Amazon Studios for development as an hour-long television drama.
Her previous novel, Heat 2, is a prequel/sequel to the film Heat, co-authored with the film’s writer/director, Michael Mann. It debuted at #1 on the NYT best seller list.
Meg is the author of the Evan Delaney series, the Jo Beckett novels, and several stand alones. China Lake won the 2009 Edgar award for Best Paperback Original. The Nightmare Thief won the 2012 Audie Award for Thriller/Suspense audiobook of the year. Phantom Instinct was one of O, the Oprah magazine’s “Best Books of Summer.”
A graduate of Stanford Law School in California, Meg practiced law in Los Angeles and taught writing at the University of California Santa Barbara. She lives in Austin, Texas.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SLY AS A FOX (The Sylvia Wilson Mysteries Book #2) by Wendy Koenig on this AME Blog Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Sylvia Wilson’s brother, Aaron, is working with a joint bank robbery task force. When he goes missing, she joins forces with the FBI to search for him.
But nothing is what it seems.
With very little time left, Sylvia will burn Heaven to the ground to find her missing brother and bring him back alive. FBI, be damned.
SLY AS A FOX (The Sylvia Wilson Mysteries Book #2) by Wendy Koenig is a fast-paced, action-adventure mystery/thriller with a wise beyond her years, Krav Maga fighting, female protagonist who is a bartender/bar owner. While this is the second book in the series, it can be read as a standalone, but to get more character background and action try out the first book, On the Sly, which I also recommend.
Sylvia Wilson is still procrastinating on her decisions for the rebuild of her bar after an arson fire destroyed it, getting back to her Krav Maga lessons, and dealing with nightmares and panic attacks after her run in with a killer in book one. Attempting to deal with all these personal problems, she is then notified of the disappearance of her police officer brother who has gone missing on an undercover operation for the FBI.
Sylvia will do anything, even go against the FBI agents who do not appear to be helping, to find her brother and bring him back alive.
This is an edge-of-your-seat mystery/thriller with plenty of misdirection, lies, and action. Sylvia is a complex character with a deep love of family, friends, and difficult animals, but also deeply scarred by the death of her parents for which she feels partially responsible. She is only 22 years old in the books, but very street wise and worldly from working in bars before she was legal. Because of her law enforcement father, she and her brother grew up playing games that ultimately help them in the present such as her knowledge of guns, her black belt in Judo and her current study of Krav Maga. The mystery plot in this book was well paced and interesting as Sylvia looks for her brother and then with his help looks for a mole in the FBI. The ending was not completely what I was expecting, but I liked it.
I recommend this exciting action-adventure mystery thriller and I am looking forward to Sylvia’s next adventure.
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About the Author
Wendy is a published author living in New Brunswick, Canada, with her husband, Vince, and two cats named after the Blues Brothers, Jake and Elwood. Her first piece to be printed was a short children’s fiction, Jet’s Stormy Adventure, serialized in The Illinois Horse Network. She attended University of Iowa, honing her craft in their famed summer workshops and writing programs. Since that time, she has published and co-authored numerous books. Several of her manuscripts and short stories have won international awards and have appeared in multiple venues.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review of MIA by John Lansing 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, the author’s social media links and a Kingsumo giveaway. Good luck on the giveaway and enjoy!
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Book Description
Mia, is the origin story of retired inspector Jack Bertolino as a young undercover, NYPD narco-busting detective and his relationship with Mia, his confidential informant.
Mia, a former Miss Colombia, has the kind of beauty that can make a grown man contemplate leaving his wife, his job, and his kids. She’s a complex character, with a painful backstory, who signs on with Jack to help him infiltrate, and take down, a heavy hitter in the Colombian drug trade. Mia has ice water in her veins and is already responsible for delivering large amounts of cocaine, and millions of the cartels cash into the government’s coffers.
This is Jack and Mia’s story. How Mia became a confidential informant, her evolving relationship with Jack, and how the life and death case they break wide open becomes the prequel to The Devil’s Necktie.
Genre: Crime Thriller Published by: White Street Press/ Karen Hunter Publishing Publication Date: June 4th, 2024 Number of Pages: 252 ISBN: 979-8-89456-000-7 (Print) | 979-8-89456-899-7 (Digital) Series: The Jack Bertolino Series, Prequel
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
MIA by John Lansing is the action-packed origin story for the Jack Bertolino action/thriller series. This is the first book I have read in this series, and I am happy it was this one. Not only is this story an exciting thriller, but I cannot wait to continue with more books in the series now. I will be going into book one, The Devil’s Necktie, with even more knowledge of the main protagonist’s history.
NYPD detective Jack Bertolino heads up a special narcotics task force working to shut down all Columbian drug cartel cocaine from reaching the streets of NY and Miami. During this operation, Jack is introduced to the beautiful ex-Miss Columbia, Mia, who will be their confidential informant. Mia will do anything to bring down the Columbian cartel that has emotionally and physically harmed her in the past. The operation goes well, and Jack and Mia go their separate ways, but Jack has promised Mia to always protect her if she needs it.
Five years later, Mia is in danger and reaches out to Jack for help and when Jack makes a promise, he delivers.
This is an exciting, action-packed thriller that moves at a fast pace throughout. This story had me on the edge of my seat with the escalating tension of Mia being undercover and the violence of the cartel members. The law enforcement procedural plotline is well paced and interesting. Jack is a protagonist with a strict set of morals and while he is a workaholic, he still believes in family and loves his wife and son. The ending of this series prequel is sad and disturbing, but leaves you wanting to grab the first book in the series right away.
I highly recommend this prequel to the Jack Bertolino thriller series, and it is a great way to start the entire series which I will be doing.
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Excerpt
Jack Bertolino’s early morning shower gave up the ghost long before he swiped his long-term pass to gain entry to the Staten Island Ferry. Once he landed in the City, he headed for Tango 23’s base of operations. There he picked up his NYPD plain-wrap sedan. The ninety-degree temperature, wetted by ninety-five degree humidity, made a mockery of the air conditioner in the Ford Crown Vic as it crawled through commuter traffic headed for LaGuardia. The air was thick, the stench of exhaust on the Grand Central Parkway overwhelmed as Jack dodged a pothole, rattled into the airport parking lot and came to an engine-clicking stop next to DEA agent Kenny Ortega’s government issue.
The joint narcotics task force case was in its sixth month. Jack had agreed to meet a few old friends and a new confidential informant who had arrived from Miami via Colombia. This CI claimed to be able to provide entry into the inner workings of Manuel Alvarez’s illicit drug operation.
Alvarez, a notorious Colombian trafficker, had been on Jack’s radar for more than a year. Alvarez was responsible for importing a thousand keys of cocaine into Miami on a monthly basis, and the poison
was dripping into New York City. Jack wanted Alvarez’s head on a pike.
At thirty-eight, Jack was already a lieutenant, the boss of the narco-rangers called Tango 23. His crew had great success shutting down drug and money-laundering cells in the five boroughs, piling millions of dollars of the cartel’s money into the city’s coffers.
Jack was a handsome, unpretentious man with thick dark hair he wore brushed back. Creases on his striking face were a roadmap of years exposed to the elements doing undercover narcotics work on the streets of New York City.
As he stepped out of the car, a hot gust of wind blew grit into Jack’s eyes and mouth. It also blasted the long hair of a young woman exiting the passenger side of Ortega’s vehicle, obscuring her face. The deafening sound of a wide-body jet thundered overhead as Jack spit and wiped his stinging eyes.
The woman hand-combed strands of blonde away from her face. When Jack’s vision cleared, he was momentarily stopped in his tracks. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous.
He nodded to Sal Traina, a member of the Tango group, and shook the hand of Mia Ferrero as Ortega made the introductions. Mia, an ex-Miss Colombia, was the confidential informant. Kenny Ortega, the Miami-based DEA agent, was Jack’s partner on the drug task force.
Nick Aprea, a detective from the LAPD narcotics division, had flown in from Los Angeles, where a large quantity of the illicit drugs ended up. He ducked low as he slid out of the back seat, wearing a black leather jacket in the New York heat, and led with a wolfish grin as he proffered a hand the size of a baseball glove. “Jack, good to be back in business.” Aprea was tall, hard, and took life as it came. He had arrived with serious skin in the game. A few years back, his partner had been gut-shot in an Alvarez–Delgado operation. Nick had put fifteen hundred keys of coke on the table, and his partner had been put in an early grave. When Jack invited him to the party, Nick jumped at the chance to deliver some retribution.
Mia signed on to the joint operation between the NYPD, Miami DEA, and LAPD to infiltrate Manuel Alvarez’s operation and help put away a
heavy hitter for the Colombian cartel. She was a proven commodity, already wealthy from delivering large quantities of cocaine and cash to the United States government’s coffers in their ongoing war on drugs. The Feds had a formula in place for paying informants. The bigger the bust, the larger the payoff. A nice way to fatten your wallet, an easy way to die.
Mia started playing Jack—who had a reputation of being a straight arrow—from the moment she touched down at LaGuardia Airport. She’d been summoned for a meeting downtown, organized to get a feel for the principals, define the case, and plan a strategy.
It was time to roll. Sal was sitting in the passenger seat of Jack’s car when Mia rapped on the window. Sal slid out, and Mia stepped in seconds before Jack pulled out of the lot.
“I hope you don’t mind. It was so crowded in the other car,” she said.
Jack wasn’t thrilled. “It’s okay,” he said, always careful when spending time with a CI. First of all, rules and parameters of the relationship had to be set in place, until the informant was proven trustworthy. Too many things could go wrong. Jack was career building and didn’t need any bullshit slowing him down. He had a line in the sand when dealing with informants, and although he always treated them with respect, sharing his personal life was a nonstarter.
Mia started talking rapid fire. Her English was lightly accented but flawless, and Jack chalked her excited banter to nerves.
“I wasn’t supposed to fly first class, but I used my frequent-flyer miles, and thank God because the plane was full, and I was in the air for so many hours. Should I call you Jack or Mr. Bertolino?”
“Lieutenant works.”
“Oh, very formal. It’s so hot in here,” Mia play-whined, and undid the second button on her blouse as she turned to face Jack. “Are you a by-the-numbers kind of guy?”
“Something like that.”
“I know a lot of Italians in Medellín. Not a formal one in the mix. Very sexy though, Italians in general, don’t you think?”
—
Jack kept his eyes trained on the traffic. “Never given it much thought.”
“Oh, I have. Very much so.”
Jack wasn’t going there. He hoped Mia would lose herself in the approaching view of the New York skyline and stop talking. Instead, she seemed content to stare at Jack who was growing increasingly uncomfortable, but didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with a woman who could break his case wide open.
“And the police in general, what do they call it? Mucho testosterone. You can’t hide it, Jack—I mean, Lieutenant.” Mia’s smile was sly, and Jack kept his eyes on the road, not wanting the conversation to get out of hand.
“Your nose,” she said knowingly, “that must have hurt.”
Jack had a bump on his otherwise straight Roman nose. It was a gift from a crack dealer named Trey, who he traded punches with outside the Red Hook projects in Brooklyn. Trey went to jail, and Jack had a reminder every morning when he shaved to keep his right fist higher and jab with his left.
“Do you like sex on the beach?” Jack hoped she was talking about the cocktail and didn’t respond. “What about sex in the car?” Mia said and ran a manicured nail down his thigh. “I love giving blow jobs, I mean, giving oral sex.”
Jack shot a look in the rearview mirror, tried to remain stoic, but he was getting hot under the collar. He was doing sixty and Kenny Ortega’s car was tight on his bumper. Jack glanced in the rearview again, and saw the men in the trailing car laughing.
He’d had enough. He signaled and pulled the wheel hard to the right, sending Mia sliding against the passenger door. As horns around him started blaring, he skidded to a tire-screeching stop on the shoulder of the Brooklyn–Queens Expressway. He was followed by Ortega, Nick, and a few other smirking detectives in the second car.
Jack knew he’d been set up. He picked up the radio and raised Ortega. “Get this woman out of my car.”
Mia feigned being hurt. “Is it something I said?” Over the intercom, Ortega and his crew were howling. Mia jumped out of Jack’s car, her
face split into a sultry grin, and she winked. “Just having some fun, Lieutenant.”
Jack was the only one on the crew not laughing. He pulled back into traffic, riding solo, and dialed his home number.
Jeanine answered on the second ring. “Are you all right, Jack?”
“Huh?”
“An afternoon call. It’s usually bad news.”
“Oh, no, not today. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Hmmm, okay… Good.” Jeannine could read Jack’s mood and wasn’t buying it.
Jack started to relax, the earth rotating back on its axis. “Actually, I just made a pickup at LaGuardia, had a moment.”
“Okay. Are you going to make it home for dinner?”
“Don’t wait on me. We have a TAC meeting, breaking in a new informant. You know how that goes.”
Jeannine knew all too well what that meant. And Jack was hit with the familiar chill on the other end of the line. “Okay, Jack. Your son’s asking what happened to his father.”
“Tell him I miss him.”
“Tell him yourself, Jack,” Jeannine said quietly before hanging up the phone.
Jack stifled his growing anger, fully aware that he was an absentee father. From his point of view, he was building a secure life for his family, and they all had to make sacrifices. It was a team effort. He knew he was being defensive, but he also knew what it took to rise through the ranks of the NYPD.
Jack snapped out of it when Kenny beeped his horn and rocketed past in the fast lane. He rolled his eyes, slightly amused as Mia, sitting in the back seat, nailed him with a look that was purely X-rated.
Excerpt from MIA by John Lansing. Copyright 2024 by John Lansing. Reproduced with permission from John Lansing. All rights reserved.
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Author Bio
John Lansing is the author of six thrillers featuring Jack Bertolino—The Devil’s Necktie, Blond Cargo, Dead Is Dead, The Fourth Gunman, 25 to Life, and MIA—as well as the true-crime non-fiction book Good Cop Bad Money, written with former NYPD Inspector Glen Morisano. He has been a writer and supervising producer on Walker, Texas Ranger, the co-executive producer of the ABC series Scoundrels, and co-wrote two MOWs for CBS. The Devil’s Necktie is in development at Andria Litto’s Amuse Entertainment, with Barbara DeFina attached as a producer.
A native of Long Island, John now resides in Los Angeles.
A U.S. destroyer is torpedoed by an Iranian submarine and Captain Murray Wilson of the U.S.S. Michigan is flown to the Pentagon to meet with the Secretary of the Navy (SecNav). There Wilson learns that the Iranian submarine is just a cover story. One of the United States’ own fully automated unmanned underwater vehicles has gone rogue, its programming corrupted in some way. Murray is charged with hunting it down and taking it out before the virus that’s infected its operating system can infect the rest of the fleet.
At the same time, the head of the SEAL detachment aboard the U.S.S Michigan is killed and Lonnie Mixell, a former U.S. operative, now assassin for hire, is responsible. And that is only the first SEAL to be hunted down and killed. Jake Harrison, fellow SEAL, discovers that these SEALs had one mission in common – they were all on the team that killed Bin Laden. Or so the world was told.
As Wilson discovers that his mission is actually meant to cover up dangerous acts of corruption, even treason, Harrison discovers that the assassin is out to protect the same forces. Forces too powerful for either of them to take on alone.
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Elise’s Thoughts
The Bin Laden Plot by Rick Campbell is a great military-espionage story. The book has the CIA Director, Christine O’ Connor, along with a former SEAL, Jake Harrison, now a CIA contractor, working together to find out if there is a cover up that includes dangerous acts of corruption, even treason.
This plot starts with the destruction of a destroyer in the Persian Gulf. The explanation from the Secretary of Navy is that it was the result of a rogue UUV (Unmanned Underwater Vehicle). A decision is made to send a submarine to destroy it, headed by Murray Wilson, the USS Michigan Captain.
At the same time, Lonnie Mixell, a former U.S. operative, now assassin for hire, is responsible for eliminating those SEALS responsible for killing Bin Laden, including Jake Harrison, a fellow SEAL, who was also on the mission. CIA Director Christine O’Connor is suspicious about who is really behind the killing and what really happened with the UUV. This pits her and Jake working together again to find out what is really happening.
This story will take readers on another thrill ride with unexpected twists and turns. In some ways it is a cliff hanger with the groundwork set for the next novel.
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Author Interview
Elise Cooper: Idea for the story?
Rick Campbell: I did address the question you asked last time if there will be more of Christine. The overlying question, is did America really kill Bin Laden? By dumping his body in the ocean what happened to the conclusive proof? The book is set up in this way: did he live, but after they did get the DNA analysis was it proof, or was it covered up with a fake DNA analysis? All the technology is definitely feasible. I need to deliver a submarine thriller.
EC: Where are you going with the relationship?
RC: Christine and Harrison must work through their issues. It will resolve itself to some extent. In the relationship they still love each other with Harrison’s wife feeling inferior and is jealous of Christine. They still care for each other, but Christine is very careful not to cross the red line in the sand. Going back a couple of novels after she was put through a lot on the submarine she did ask Harrison about his relationship at home. She was trying to be honorable and not having an affair.
EC: What about the Khalila-Harrison professional partner relationship?
RC: He considers her a sociopath. She could be a double agent and ruthless. She trusts him completely, but Harrison is having problems trusting her.
EC: How would you describe one of the bad guys, Lonnie Mixell?
RC: He feels betrayed, someone seeking revenge and vengeance. He is disloyal because he was a former friend of Christine and Harrison. He has anger-management issues. Someone who is pure evil.
EC: How about the other bad person, Secretary of the Navy Brenda Verbeck?
RC: She is conniving, power hungry, manipulative, ambitious, and ruthless. I do reference if someone is wealthy and powerful they get away with what normal people don’t. She is resentful and vindictive.
EC: Next book?
RC: It is titled, Vengeance, probably out in the spring/summer of next year. There are four characters who all want revenge. Christine will be a central figure, as will Khalila and it will have as one of the settings, the Middle East. I will write these types of books if I have good plots. My challenge is that at least 1/3 of the plot must be submarine based.
I signed a six-book contract with another publisher for a different series. It is military-science fiction. I am a science fiction fan, which is where my passion lies. It takes place 1000 years in the future. The basic premise: humanity has been at war with an alien species for three decades.
THANK YOU!!
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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.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for KNIFE RIVER (The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series) by Baron R. Birtcher 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 Kingsumo giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
A sheriff fighting to keep the peace in 1970s Oregon faces a shocking secret from his town’s past, in this crime thriller from the author of Reckoning.
There are rules in the West no matter what era you were born in, and it’s up to lawman Ty Dawson to make sure they’re followed in the valley he calls home. The people living on this unforgiving land keep to themselves and are wary of the modern world’s encroachment into their quiet lives.
So it’s not without some suspicion that Dawson confronts a newcomer to the region: a record producer who has built a music studio in an isolated compound. His latest project is a collaboration with a famous young rock star named Ian Swann, recording and filming his sessions for a movie. An amphitheater for a live show is being built on the land, giving Dawson flashbacks to the violent Altamont concert. Not on his watch.
But even beefed up security can’t stop a disaster that’s been over a decade in the making. All it takes is one horrific case bleeding its way into the present to prove that the good ol’ days spawned a brand of evil no one wants to revisit . . .
Genre: Crime Thriller Published by: Open Road Media Publication Date: April 23, 2024 Number of Pages: 338 ISBN: 9781504086523 (ISBN10: 150408652X) Series: The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
KNIFE RIVER (The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series) by Baron Birtcher is an intricately plotted crime thriller with buried appalling crimes and secrets from the sheriff’s small town’s past that are about to be revealed and become the cause of a horrific crime in the present. This is the fourth book in the Ty Dawson series, but each is easily read as a standalone story.
Sheriff Ty Dawson is a Korean War veteran, rancher, and sheriff in the 1970’s small town of Meridian, Oregon. Ty discovers a new music studio compound has been built outside town. A famous young rock star is recording a new album and filming his sessions. It will culminate in the filming of a live concert built in a new outdoor amphitheater. Ty does not want the headaches and crimes related to a large intrusion of outsiders, but he has no choice.
What Ty does not know is the singer has ulterior motives for picking this location and is in danger from someone who does not want crimes from the past to resurface.
This is a story that pulled me in, and I did not put the book down until the end. I enjoy that it is set in the 1970’s and I especially like the references regarding the music scene and musicians. The flashback scenes to the buried secrets were interwoven throughout the present in the story and just kept ratcheting up the tension to the climax when the two collide. Sheriff Ty Dawson is a fully developed character of moral conviction with a love of his family, friends, and town, but he is not blind to the changes happening in the world. There is just something in Mr. Birtcher’s writing style that pulls me into each book in this series and makes me believe Ty is real and could walk right off the page.
I highly recommend this exceptional crime thriller addition to the series, the entire series, and this author!
***
Excerpt
Prelude:
FACING WEST
SOME SAY THAT to be born into a thing is to be blind to half of it. Oftentimes, the things we seek and discover for ourselves are those we hold most dear.
Any cattleman will tell you that a ranch is a living thing. Not only the livestock that graze the meadowland, but the blood that nourishes the hungry soil, the trees that inhale the wind, and the rain that carves runnels into the hardpan that, in time, grow into rivers. The Diamond D is no different in that respect, some would even say it was the beating heart of Meriwether County, Oregon.
As both a stockman and the sheriff of this county, I believe this to be true.
But the events that unfolded in the autumn of 1964 cast a cloud across that land. Not just across my ranch, but the entire valley, though they didn’t bear their terrible fruit until nearly a dozen years later, in the spring of 1976. The incidents still haunt me, though others paid a steeper price than I; some with their lives, or the lives of their loved ones, while some forfeit their sanity, and still others with their souls.
That is where this story begins.
CHAPTER ONE
LAMBS AND LIONS hold no sway over the springtime here in Meriwether County. Some years it will snow through mid-May, other times the golden sun rides high and bright, and the river flows fast, clear and deep with high-country melt on the first day of March. Most years, it’s both, with Mother Nature keeping her whims to herself until she alone decides to turn them loose upon us.
But this particular Saturday morning was unusually quiet, not even a breath of breeze stirring the leaves of the cottonwoods that grew thick and untamed along the creekbank. I was standing outside on the gallery, sipping my coffee as I leaned on the porch rail, watching my wife, Jesse, hammer the last nail into a birdbox she had made. She must have felt my eyes on her, as she looked up from her work and smiled. A few moments later, she stepped up the stairs to where I stood and kissed me on the cheek, smelling of sawdust and lemongrass tea.
“The bluebirds are back,” she said. “I just saw them.”
“You haven’t lost your knack for building those things.”
“Plenty of practice. You got home late last night.”
I had spent the previous day transporting a man all the way from Lewiston up to the Portland lockup to await his trial. He stood accused of murdering his own wife and young child. It had been a long, depressing day, and by the time I completed the intake paperwork, locked up the substation in Meridian, and finally drove home to the ranch, Jesse was already asleep.
But this morning, everything in her expression seemed overflowing with hope and expectation. Springtime was her season and always had been.
“Want a hand putting that thing up?” I asked.
She replied by handing it to me, together with the hammer.
She watched me hang the birdbox on a post beside the vegetable garden, outside the kitchen window where I knew she’d spend her quiet mornings secretly observing the bluebirds as they built their nest and reared their brood.
“You plan on helping Caleb pick the new cowboys today?” She asked me when I came back inside.
It was the time of year when we hired a few temporary hands for Spring Works, when we’d round-up the cattle and calves from every corner of the ranch; we’d vet, brand and sort the livestock, and mend a perpetual string of breaks in the wire along miles of fenceline before we turned the herd out to the pastures for summer grazing. The Diamond D employed three permanent cowboys in addition to me and old Caleb Wheeler—our foreman for more than three decades—but with 63,000 deeded acres and another 14,000 under a Land Management lease, Spring Works was more work than the five of us could handle in the short span of time required to get it done. Every year a couple dozen hopeful itinerant riders, ropers, rodeo bums and saddle-tramps would answer the call for a temporary employment opportunity, and every year Caleb Wheeler got more riled up about what he viewed as the eroding quality of the contemporary American cowboy. He’d cuss and grump and holler about it, but he’d end up settling on three or four hands he reckoned could help us get the job done with a minimum of aggravation.
“I’m staying out of it this year,” I said, and Jesse grinned. “Figured I’d lay in a cord or two for the woodshed instead, before the weather gets too hot.”
“I saw some deadfall down by Corcoran’s,” she said.
“That’s where I was headed.”
“Make you some lunch to take with you?”
“I don’t intend to be out that long.”
“Good to hear,” she said, and winked at me before she turned, and stepped inside the house.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later I was straddling a fallen spruce, angling the chainsaw to buck the trunk into three-foot rounds that I’d later split into quarters with the long-handled axe. The solitary labor, the sweat staining my shirt, and the burn down deep inside my muscles were a welcome balm after the week I’d had, and the air was rife with the smell of pine tar, sap and chain oil. I looked up and caught some movement in the distance, where the BLM forest gave onto an open range already knee deep with wildflowers and whipgrass. I recognized Tom Jenkins’ roping horse moving hellbent-for-leather across the flats, with young Tom leaning across her withers, one hand on the reins and the other holding his hat in place on top of his head. His mount was an admirable animal, a grullo Quarter Horse that stood nearly seventeen hands, fast and thick through the chest. Tom Jenkins handled her well, and he was beelining in my direction like he had something on his mind.
I killed the power on the chainsaw and set it in the bed of the military surplus jeep I use when I do ranch work, stepped over to the fence and took a splash of water from the canteen I’d hung in the shade of a young cedar. I didn’t have to wait long before Tom pulled up in a skidding stop inside a cloud of dust, throwing a cascade of torn earth and pebbles through the barbed strands of the wire.
“Mr. Dawson,” he said and touched a finger to his hat brim, sounding nearly as breathless as his horse. “I was hoping that was you.”
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I asked, but suspected I already knew the answer.
When I’d first met Tom Jenkins, he was nothing but a kid with a limp handshake, no eye-contact, and the familiar slope-shouldered gait and posture of the typical aimless teenaged slacker. At that time, he’d been well on his way to serious trouble, the variety and scope of which would have landed him in a six-by-eight jail cell where the other inmates would have eaten him alive.
He is the nephew of my neighbor to the south of me, Snoose Corcoran, whose sister had sent the kid up here from California’s central valley to his uncle’s ranch in southeastern Oregon in hopes of putting some distance between young Tom and his unquestionably poor choices of acquaintances. Ill-equipped to deal with the boy himself, Snoose begged me to take the kid on as a maverick, and I’d reluctantly agreed. After six months working side by side with trail hardened cowboys on the Diamond D young Tom Jenkins’ attitude had been readjusted, straightening both his spine and fortitude. Now, at barely 18 years of age, Tom had assumed the reins of the floundering Corcoran cattle operation from his uncle Snoose, who had been gradually disappearing into a bottle.
“Cow and a calf went missing from my place,” Tom answered. “Fence busted by the westward line, and I figured them two mighta headed for the water.”
My ranch hands ended up nicknaming the kid “Silver,” after he’d astonished us all by stepping up and winning a silver buckle for the Diamond D in the team roping event at the annual rodeo. I knew Tom secretly treasured the handle they’d bestowed, wore it like a medal, but I never spoke it; that was between my men and him.
“Where’s your uncle?” I asked.
His shrug spoke sorrowful volumes.
“So, what set you hightailing over here to see me, son?” I asked. “What’s the trouble? Besides the missing beeves.”
“I was up there on the other side of the tree line,” he said. He twisted sideways in his saddle, took off his hat and gestured with it toward a distant stretch of blue sky. “There was an eagle making low passes over the meadow, so I stopped to watch it for a minute. It was so still and quiet out there, I could hear the eagle calling out while it was gliding on the thermals.”
“You don’t see something like that every day,” I said. “Not even out here in the boondocks.”
“No sir, that’s a fact,” Tom said. “But, while I sat there watching that creature flying, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, a helicopter come buzzing across the ridge, you know the one…”
“Big stone bluff, looks like somebody cut it down the middle with a KA-BAR knife.”
“That’s the one,” he said. “Well, that chopper came in fast, and went straight toward that bird…” The young man’s voice trailed off, his face contorted like he’d encountered a foul odor. “They circled it as it flew, like they were teasing it. Two men inside the—whattaya call it?”
“Cockpit.”
“Yeah, the cockpit. Then they started closing in on him, chasing it. The guy in the passenger seat had a rifle in his hands. I could see the barrel sticking out.”
What Tom was describing to me was not only a despicable and loathsome act, it was a serious crime. The mere harassment of a protected species is a federal offense; hunting and killing one merely for the sick thrill of it was another matter entirely.
“What happened, Tom?”
He swallowed drily, shook his head and looked down at the ground between us.
“He shot that bird right out of the sky, sir,” he said. “That eagle wasn’t even doing nothing, just gliding circles on the wind, and those assholes—sorry, sir—they shot him cold dead.”
I could imagine the creature’s confused and lonely cry as it spiraled down, bleeding, terrified and helpless, to the earth.
“You pretty sure about the location, Tom?”
“About four, five miles thataway, near the bluff, where the river makes that sharp bend to the south.”
“Did you get a look at either of the men?”
“Naw, they were too far away and moving pretty fast. But I got a good look at the whirlybird.”
I asked him for a description of the helicopter, and I knew right away he was referring to a Bell H-13, known to soldiers as a “Sioux.” They’d been in common use as scouting and medical evacuation aircraft by the military. I’d seen them every day when I was stationed in Korea.
“Like the choppers on that TV show?” I asked.
“Yes, sir. Exactly like on M*A*S*H.”
“Big glass bubble on the front? No doors? Looks kinda like a dragonfly?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see any numbers written on it? On the tail? Or maybe on the underside?”
Tom Jenkins pressed his hat back on his head and gazed up at the empty sky beyond the forest, like he could return that beautiful animal to where it rightfully belonged through sheer force of his will. The high peaks beyond the meadow were streaked with deep blue shadows in the sunlight, their cloughs and gorges washed in purple and topped with snow so white it hurt your eyes.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I don’t remember seeing numbers or anything like that.”
His face took on the aspect of defeat, as though some personal failure had cost the animal its life.
“You did good, Tom. You did the right thing coming to me straight away. There was nothing else you could have done.”
He nodded once, his lips pressed tight, and he leaned down to adjust a stirrup that needed no adjustment.
“You want some help finding your cows?” I asked, thinking he might appreciate the company.
“I can do it, sir, but thank you. I can haze ’em back home on my own.”
“You gotta get eyeballs on the critters first. I can help you, son.”
“Thank you just the same, Mr. Dawson… Sheriff… Hell, I don’t even know what to call you.”
His expression softened for the first time since he’d showed up, a brief and fleeting smile, then his focus drifted far away again.
“Something else, Tom?”
“Just wondering.”
“Wondering what?”
“Do you think you can catch those guys who shot that bird?”
“I’m going to try my damndest.”
His eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
“What’ll happen to ’em if you do?”
I drew a bandana from the back pocket of my jeans, removed my hat, and dried the sweat that had been leaking from beneath the band.
“It’s been against the law to kill an eagle since the 1940s. If you’re not an Indian, you can’t even possess a single feather. If you get caught, you pay a steep fine and then they send you off to jail. If you’re a rancher, you could lose the leases on your land.”
Tom turned his gaze back on me, and I noted for the hundredth time that this young man no longer bore any resemblance to the person he had been on the day he first arrived here from California.
“That punishment don’t seem tough enough,” Tom said. “Not for what I seen ’em do.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He clucked softly to his horse, and reined her back in the direction from which they’d come.
“I’d better get a move on,” he said.
“Be careful out there, son,” I said to his retreating back, but my words were lost in the distance.
***
Author Bio
Baron Birtcher is the LA TIMES and IMBA BESTSELLING author of the hardboiled Mike Travis series (Roadhouse Blues, Ruby Tuesday, Angels Fall, and Hard Latitudes), the award-winning Ty Dawson series (South California Purples, Fistful Of Rain, Reckoning, and Knife River), as well as the critically-lauded stand-alone, RAIN DOGS.
Baron is a winner of the SILVER FALCHION AWARD, and the WINNER of 2018’s Killer Nashville READERS CHOICE AWARD, as well as 2019’s BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR for Fistful Of Rain.
He has also had the honor of having been named a finalist for the NERO AWARD, the LEFTY AWARD, the FOREWORD INDIE AWARD, the 2016 BEST BOOK AWARD, the Pacific Northwest’s regional SPOTTED OWL AWARD, and the CLAYMORE AWARD.
