#authorbio – Page 20 – Avonna Loves Genres

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Binding Room by Nadine Matheson

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE BINDING ROOM by Nadine Matheson on this HTP Summer 2022 Mystery & Thriller Bog Tour.

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

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Book Summary

Detective Anjelica Henley confronts a series of ritualistic murders in this heart-pounding thriller about race, power and the corrupt institutions that threaten us for fans of S.A. Crosby and Tami Hoag

When Detective Anjelica Henley is called to investigate the murder of popular preacher in his own church, she discovers a second victim, tortured and tied to a bed in an upstairs room. He is alive, but barely, and his body show signs of a dark religious ritual.

With a revolving list of suspects and the media spotlight firmly on her, Henley is left with more questions than answers as she attempts to untangle both crimes. But when another body appears, the case takes on a new urgency. Unless she can apprehend the killer, the next victim may just be Henley herself.

Drawing on her experiences as a criminal attorney, Nadine Matheson’s new novel deftly explores issues of race, class and justice through an action-packed story that will hold you captive until the last terrifying page.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58767994-the-binding-room?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=rl5q9tlr0q&rank=1

THE BINDING ROOM

A Henley Thriller Book #2

Author: Nadine Matheson

ISBN: 9781335426925

Publication Date: July 12, 2022

Publisher: Hanover Square Press

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

THE BINDING ROOM (An Inspector Anjelica Henley Thriller Book #2) by Nadine Matheson is an intense and gritty British police procedural thriller. This is the second instalment in this series and can be read as a thriller standalone, but there are major character relationships that are better understood if you read The Jigsaw Man, Book #1 first.

Detective Anjelica Henley and her team are back and still dealing with the trauma of their last case as they are pulled into another difficult investigation. Henley is called to a scene of a brutal stabbing of a popular preacher in his own church and as they search the church discover another apparently tortured body barely alive, tied to a bed in a hidden room.

Henley and her team work both cases even as politics, secrets and lies make the team feel like they are getting nowhere fast. More bodies are discovered with the same terrible injuries and the female victim shows signs of having given birth. Both investigations have crossover suspects, but the clues lead to different motives. Henley must move quickly to stop more tortured murder victims.

I am happy to announce there was no sophomore slump with this addition to the series. Henley is still having problems emotionally from their last case and the loss of her mother. Her marriage is still in flux, and I still do not know how that will turn out in future books. Her entire team has become more fully fleshed and I care for them all with all their quirks and differences. This book does have several very dark and graphically disturbing scenes, but it is about sadistic torture murders and Ms. Matheson’s first book was the same, so I was expecting it. The investigative plot was well paced with several twists throughout that keeps you reading with a major twist right before the end.

I highly recommend this thriller and I am looking forward to many more in this series!

***

Excerpt

“We all lost,” said DS Paul Stanford as he held out a Quality Street tin in front of Henley.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Henley asked as she took off her coat and flung it onto a spare desk. “Are there any toffee pennies in there?”

“You might want to keep your coat on. The heating’s on the blink again. Either that or they’ve forgotten all about us and haven’t paid the bill. There’s a hundred and forty pounds in the pot and no toffee pennies.”

“Why is there a hundred and forty quid in there?”

Stanford rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Remember our bet?” he said. “On him. Our illustrious fully fledged Detective Constable Ramouter.”

“What have I done?” Ramouter asked from his position in the kitchen where he’d been eyeing the bottom of a mug with disgust.

“This is ridiculous,” Henley said. Her ears picked up the whirr coming from the electric fan heaters and the ice-fueled wind whistling outside and rattling the glass.

“You lasted, Ramouter; that’s what you did,” said Stanford. “We had a bet on how long you would last in the SCU.”

“And you didn’t think that I would last six months?” asked Ramouter as he picked up another mug.

“Mate, I didn’t think you would last six days. I’ll have a coffee if you’re making.”

“You shouldn’t be so mean to him,” said Henley as she took off her scarf and pushed it against the rotting frame of the window to block the icy draft that was sweeping across her desk.

“How am I being mean? I’m paying him a bloody compliment. After everything that happened, no one would have blamed him if he’d bolted for the door.”

“Well, he didn’t. He’s stuck with it. So, what are you going to do with the money?”

“I could give Ramouter the money. He could spend it on a train ticket to Bradford or something.”

“Now who’s getting soft?” Henley said. The phone on her desk started to ring.

“Or I could book a table at the curry house down the road. It will be teambuilding.”

“Or a normal Friday night out with you falling asleep in your chili chicken.”

“Rude,” Stanford replied as Henley picked up the phone and Ramouter appeared by his side with a mug of steaming coffee for him.

“Right. I see,” said Henley, reaching for the pad of blue Post-it notes on her desk and a ballpoint pen with a chewed cap. “I didn’t realize that we were still on duty. Can you send me the CAD details? No, I can’t get it myself because the system has crashed again. Thank you. Who found the body? Right.”

Henley pulled off the Post-it note and stuck it to the side of Ramouter’s mug. He peeled it off and looked at it quizzically. “Depending on traffic, we should be there in fifteen minutes.”

“You’re not going to have time to finish that,” said Henley, putting the phone down and grabbing her scarf.

“There’s a body in a church?” Ramouter said as he read the note. “Seriously?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Why are we dealing with this?”

“We’re dealing with it because the borough commander decided that the Serial Crime Unit should be helping out Homicide and Serious Crime with their caseload,” Henley replied wearily.

“Anyone would think that we were just sitting here watching Netflix all day,” Ramouter moaned. “Is it even a murder?”

“We won’t know until we get there, will we?”

“Can I say it?” asked Stanford, a grin spreading across his face.

“No, you can’t,” Henley replied. She picked up her bag and headed toward the door, with Ramouter in tow. She knew Stanford well enough to know exactly what he was going to say.

“I bet you a tenner that it was the Reverend Green with a candlestick in the library,” Stanford shouted out as Henley slammed the door shut behind her.

“I’m not telling you again. Step away from the tape.”

“What’s going on?”

“If I knew I was going to spend the afternoon standing out in the freezing cold I would have stayed in bed this morning.”

“I bet that they’ve found a body or something.”

“Look, those CSI lot have turned up.”

“I only popped out for a coffee and now the old bill are saying that I can’t go back into my own office.”

“F this. I’m going home.”

“I’m telling you that they’ve found a body.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I don’t understand these kids. Too busy stabbing each other up. No value for life.”

“You can dress it up as much as you like. It’s Deptford innit.”

The murmurings of the curious and disgruntled crowd met Henley and Ramouter as they walked toward the scene of the crime.

“This is a church?” Ramouter asked as he looked up at the cream-colored facade of the brickwork. “I was expecting something a bit more… I don’t know, church-like. Maybe a steeple. This looks like a bank.”

“It used to be a NatWest when I was seventeen. The space was once cheap to rent. Not so sure now,” Henley replied.

“I did a quick Google search—”

“Of course you did.”

“And there’s another seven churches on the Broadway.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Henley. “Betting shops, churches and chicken shops on literally every London high street.”

Henley and Ramouter held up their warrant cards to the officer behind the police tape. Henley scoped the gathering crowd. Nothing about them raised any alarms, but she knew from experience that some murderers were voyeuristic by nature.

“Look likes Dr. Choi is here,” Ramouter said, pointing out the car of Henley’s friend and the Serial Crime Unit’s favorite pathologist, parked between a police motorbike and small white transit van that had ‘Forensic Services Crime Scene Investigation’ marked in black font on the side.

Henley stopped and looked around the small car park. There were no security cameras. She felt a sense of calm as she walked closer to the crime scene. It was a welcome emotion and a respite from the anxiety that was usually coursing through her veins, which she could keep at bay if she bothered to take her prescription to the chemist. She spotted the police officer that she was looking for leaning against the side of a police car, flipping through the pages of his notebook with a pen in his mouth.

“PC Tanaka? DI Henley from the SCU.”

PC Tanaka looked up and then stood to attention a little bit too quickly as Henley walked toward him.

“Ma’am,” said PC Tanaka.

“This is my colleague, DC Ramouter.”

“Shit,” said PC Tanaka when he dropped his notebook. “Sorry.” He brushed off slush from the cover. “It’s bloody freezing.”

“You were first on scene?” Henley asked.

Tanaka nodded. Henley could tell that he wanted to get it right. Giving a senior officer information about a murder scene was a lot different to dealing with burglaries, domestics and breaking up a fight between a couple of crackheads at the bottom of the high street.

“We, that’s the sarge, Sergeant Rivers, and I were driving back to the station. We’re based around the corner at Deptford station. We had just finished our shifts and was coming back from the McDonald’s up the road…”

PC Tanaka paused and took a breath.

Henley felt sorry for him as nerves or possibly shock overtook him. She saw a look of sympathy on Ramouter’s face as they both waited for PC Tanaka to continue.

“Sorry, guv, I mean ma’am,” said PC Tanaka straightening himself again and lowering the volume on his crackling police radio. “As I said, we were heading back to the station and one of the guys who works in the design agency practically threw himself onto the bonnet of the car. He was screaming about a body. We found the cleaner in hysterics in the staffroom of the agency. She refused to leave and take us to the church. I left her with the sarge and I went into the church and yeah, I won’t forget what I saw.”

***

Author Bio

Nadine Matheson is a criminal defense attorney and winner of the City University Crime Writing competition. She lives in London, UK.

Social Media Links

Author Website

Twitter: @NadineMatheson

Facebook: @NadineMathesonWriter

Instagram: @QueenNads

Purchase Links

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Edge of Summer by Viola Shipman

Hi, everyone!

Today I am excited to share my Feature Post and Book Review for THE EDGE OF SUMMER by Viola Shipman on the HTP Books 2022 Summer Reads Blog Tour.

Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links. I am always excited to be reading a new Viola Shipman book and this was no exception. Enjoy!

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Book Summary

Bestselling author Viola Shipman delights with this captivating summertime escape set along the sparkling shores of Lake Michigan, where a woman searches for clues to her secretive mother’s past

Devastated by the sudden death of her mother—a quiet, loving and intensely private Southern seamstress called Miss Mabel, who overflowed with pearls of Ozarks wisdom but never spoke of her own family—Sutton Douglas makes the impulsive decision to pack up and head north to the Michigan resort town where she believes she’ll find answers to the lifelong questions she’s had about not only her mother’s past but also her own place in the world.

Recalling Miss Mabel’s sewing notions that were her childhood toys, Sutton buys a collection of buttons at an estate sale from Bonnie Lyons, the imposing matriarch of the lakeside community. Propelled by a handful of trinkets left behind by her mother and glimpses into the history of the magical lakeshore town, Sutton becomes tantalized by the possibility that Bonnie is the grandmother she never knew. But is she? As Sutton cautiously befriends Bonnie and is taken into her confidence, she begins to uncover the secrets about her family that Miss Mabel so carefully hid, and about the role that Sutton herself unwittingly played in it all.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58939940-the-edge-of-summer?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=fDxNfUi3Az&rank=1

THE EDGE OF SUMMER

Author: Viola Shipman

ISBN: 978-1525811425

Paperback Original

Publication Date: July 12, 2022

Publisher: Graydon House

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4.5 out of 5 Stars

THE EDGE OF SUMMER by Viola Shipman is an emotional Women’s fiction/cozy romance which tells the tale of a daughter’s search for family which she was told did not exist until she discovers the truth when her secretive mother dies.

Sutton Douglas grew up poor in the Missouri Ozarks with only her mother who everyone called Miss Mabel. Miss Mabel was a seamstress for minimum wage at the overall factory, but an artist with her Singer sewing machine and buttons at night. Sutton would sit for hours dividing and playing with her button collection. Sutton’s mother was incredibly private, and she raised Sutton to be self-sufficient and work hard for what she wanted.

Sutton grows-up to become a designer for a Chicago department store chain, but when Covid hits, she loses not only her mother, but her job. She decides to take the few clues her mother left her and move for the summer to the tourist lakeside community of Douglas, Michigan she believes her mother is from originally. Sutton begins to cautiously befriend the people of the small community. With the help of Tug, who is personally interested in her, she begins to uncover secrets that may not lead to the answers she wants but may lead to what she needs.

When I pick up a Viola Shipman book, I always make sure tissues are close by, not just for sad, but also happy tears. Sutton’s story gave me both. There are many generational secrets in this story which affect Sutton and her journey, first with her mother and then in Douglas. The start of her relationship with Tug was sweet and it was nice to have her happy with that aspect of her life, to counterbalance with all the bad going on in her relationship with Bonnie. My one complaint with the story was that while Sutton came to Douglas to search for her mother’s past, beside talking to a few people, I never felt like she was seriously searching. All the discoveries seemed to happen accidently. Besides that, I was emotionally pulled into the mystery of Sutton’s story. Once again, Michigan itself is beautifully described and plays a major part in the story.

I recommend this latest in a long line of beautifully written Women’s fiction from Viola Shipman!

***

Excerpt

BUTTONHOLE

A small cut in the fabric that is bound with small stitching. The hole has to be just big enough to allow a button to pass through it and remain in place.

My mom told everyone my dad died, along with my entire family—grandparents, aunts, uncles, and all—one Christmas Day long ago.

“Fire,” she’d say. “Woodstove. Took ’em all. Down to the last cousin.”

“How’d you make it out with your little girl?” everyone would always ask, eyes wide, mouths open. “That’s a holiday miracle!”

My mom would start to cry, a tear that grew to a flood, and, well, that would end that.

No one questioned someone who survived such a thing, especially a widowed mother like Miss Mabel, which is what everyone called her out of deference in the Ozarks. Folks down here had lived hard lives, and they buried their kin just like they did their heartache, underneath the rocky earth and red clay. It took too much effort to dig that deep.

That’s why no one ever bothered to check out the story of a simple, hardworking, down-to-earth, churchgoing lady who kept to herself down here in the hollers—despite the fact me and my mom both just appeared out of thin air—in a time before social media existed.

But I did.

Want to know why?

My mom never cried.

She was the least emotional soul I’d ever known.

“How did you make it out with me?” I asked her countless times as I grew older, when it was just the two of us sitting in her sewing room in our tiny cabin tucked amongst the bluffs outside Nevermore, Missouri.

She would never answer immediately, no matter how many times I asked. Instead, she’d turn over one of her button jars or tins, and run her fingers through the buttons as if they were tarot cards that would provide a clue.

I mean, there were no photos, no memories, no footsteps that even led from our fiery escape to the middle of Nevermore. No family wondered where we were? No one cared? My mother made it out with nothing but me? Not a penny to her name? Just some buttons?

We were rich in buttons.

Oh, I had button necklaces in every color growing up— red, green, blue, yellow, white, pink—and I matched them to every outfit I had. We didn’t have money for trendy jewelry or clothes—tennis bracelets, Gloria Vanderbilt jeans—so my mom made nearly everything I wore.

Kids made fun of me at school for that.

“Sutton, the button girl!” they’d taunt me. “Hand-me-downs!”

Wasn’t funny. Ozarks kids weren’t clever. Just annoyingly direct, like the skeeters that constantly buzzed my head.

I loved my necklaces, though. They were like Wonder Woman’s bracelets. For some reason, I always felt protected.

I’d finger and count every button on my necklace waiting for my mom to answer the question I’d asked long ago. She’d just keep searching those buttons, turning them round and round, feeling them, whispering to them, as if they were alive and breathing. The quiet would nearly undo me. A girl should have music and friends’ laughter be the soundtrack of her life, not the clink of buttons and rush of the creek. Most times, I’d spin my button necklace a few times, counting upward of sixty before my mom would answer.

“Alive!” she’d finally say, voice firm, without looking up. “That’s how we made it out…alive. And you should feel darn lucky about that, young lady.”

Then, as if by magic, my mom would always somehow manage to find a matching button to replace a missing one on a hand-me-down blouse of hers, or pluck the “purtiest” ones from the countless buttons in her jar—iridescent abalone or crochet over wound silk f loss—to make the entire blouse seem new again.

Still, she would never smile. In fact, it was as if she had been born old. I had no idea how old she might be: Thirty-five? Fifty? Seventy?

But when she’d find a beautiful button, she would hold it up to study, her gold eyes sparkling in the light from the little lamp over Ol’ Betsy, her Singer sewing machine.

If I watched her long enough, her face would relax just enough to let the deep creases sigh, and the edges of her mouth would curl ever so slightly, as if she had just found the secret to life in her button jar.

“Look at this beautiful button, Sutton,” she’d say. “So many buttons in this jar: fabric, shell, glass, metal, ceramic. All forgotten. All with a story. All from someone and somewhere. People don’t give a whit about buttons anymore, but I do. They hold value, these things that just get tossed aside. Buttons are still the one thing that not only hold a garment together but also make it truly unique.”

Finally, finally, she’d look at me. Right in the eye.

“Lots of beauty and secrets in buttons if you just look long and hard enough.”

The way she said that would make my body explode in goose pimples.

Every night of my childhood, I’d go to bed and stare at my necklace in the moonlight, or I’d play with the buttons in my mom’s jar searching for an answer my mother never provided.

Even today when I design a beautiful dress with pretty, old-fashioned buttons, I think of my mom and how the littlest of things can hold us together.

Or tear us apart.

***

Author Bio

VIOLA SHIPMAN is the pen name for internationally bestselling author Wade Rouse. Wade is the author of fourteen books, which have been translated into 21 languages and sold over a million copies around the world. Wade chose his grandmother’s name, Viola Shipman as a pen name to honor the woman whose heirlooms and family stories inspire his fiction. The last Viola Shipman novel, The Secret of Snow (October 2021), was named a Best Book of Fall by Country Living Magazine and a Best Holiday Book by Good Housekeeping.

Wade hosts the popular Facebook Live literary happy hour, “Wine & Words with Wade,” every Thursday at 6:30 p.m. EST on the Viola Shipman author page where he talks writing, inspiration and welcomes bestselling authors and and publishing insiders.

Social Media Links

Author Website

Twitter: @Viola_Shipman

Facebook: Author Viola Shipman

Instagram: @Viola_Shipman

Purchase Links

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Among the Innocent by Mary Alford

Among the Innocent

by Mary Alford

July 1-31, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for AMONG THE INNOCENT by Mary Alford on this Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tour.

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

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Book Description

When Leah Miller’s entire Amish family was murdered ten years ago, the person believed responsible took his own life. Since then, Leah left the Amish and joined the police force. Now, after another Amish woman is found murdered with the same MO, it becomes clear that the wrong man may have been blamed for her family’s deaths.

As Leah and the new police chief, Dalton Cooper, work long hours struggling to fit the pieces together in order to catch the killer, they can’t help but grow closer. When secrets from both of their pasts begin to surface, an unexpected connection between them is revealed. But this is only the beginning. Could it be that the former police chief framed an innocent man to keep the biggest secret of all buried? And what will it mean for Leah–and Dalton–when the full truth comes to light?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59382288-among-the-innocent?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=HGhcVmTRNO&rank=1

Among the Innocent

by Mary Alford

Genre: Amish Mystery
Published by: Fleming H. Revell Company
Publication Date: June 7th 2022
Number of Pages: 297
ISBN: 0800740262 (ISBN13: 9780800740269)

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

AMONG THE INNOCENT by Mary Alford is an action-packed Amish crime mystery/suspense featuring two law enforcement officers brought together by a serial killer who has returned to the quiet community of St. Ignatius, Montana to finish what he started ten years previously. This is a standalone mystery/suspense with a setting and characters I wish were going to be in a series.

Ten years ago, Leah Miller was a young teen who was the lone survivor of a horrific crime, where her entire Amish family was killed in front of her. Leah barely survived, she left the Amish and was taken in by the local sheriff and his wife. Now as a member of the sheriff’s department herself, she is called to the murder scene of young Amish girl with the same MO as her family’s killer who they all believed was dead.

Dalton Cooper is the new Sheriff, and he has his own reasons for accepting the job in this small town which tie to the death of the accused murderer of Leah’s family. As they work the case, they realize that the true killer has returned, and the previous sheriff seemed to be hiding information. They also begin to have feelings for each other, but they feel the present case needs to take precedent.

Another Amish girl is murdered, the killer is toying with Leah and the tenth anniversary of the Miller family’s death is near. Will Dalton and Leah be able to discover the truth before the dark past wins?

I found this mystery suspense to be a page-turner that I could not put down. Leah and Dalton were both broken and not moving forward with their lives, and it took their coming together to solve this case and discover the facts from the past that would allow them to heal. They were both fully fleshed, realistic characters that I empathized with immediately. The serial killer was intelligent and frightening. Ms. Alford did a great job of placing plot twists and red herrings in just the right places to make the plot fast paced and surprising. The setting of this story was very interesting, too. A mixture of small-town Montana, Amish community and Indian reservation all interconnected. This could also be considered a Christian mystery because the characters do pray for God’s assistance at times, discuss their lack of faith due to their pasts and the romantic elements are no more than a few kisses.

I highly recommend this Amish mystery/suspense!

***

Excerpt

Prologue

He drove by the house again. The second time today. All because of her.

The sight of his car rolling down the dirt road in front of her isolated farm filled Beth Zook with thoughts not proper for an Amish girl. A cloud of dust followed the car, instantly covering the freshly washed sheet she’d hung out to dry minutes earlier. Despite the sweltering July heat, he’d put down the window. Was it because he wanted her to see him as he eased by?

He waved when he saw her looking, and she reacted like a moth drawn to a flame. Beth had never met anyone so unpredictable before. One minute he teased, the next his eyes smoldered with such intensity that it frightened her.

Looking at his handsome face sent the butterflies in her stomach scattering. A flash of a smile revealed white teeth, perfect like everything else about him.

Beth waved back, then glanced over her shoulder. What would Mamm and her sister say if they noticed? She covered her mouth to suppress the giggle. She’d been giggling a lot lately.

Too soon . . .

Her head warned it was too soon for these emotions, yet

her heart threatened to explode from her chest each time they were together.

Heat flooded her cheeks as she recalled his kisses from the night before. She’d been so afraid her parents would wake and hear her slipping out of her bedroom window. A sense of fear and adventure had followed her each step of the way as she’d crossed the yard in the pitch-black dark of night to the old Miller barn where he’d waited for her.

At first, she’d been afraid to go there after what had happened all those years ago. Four members of the Miller family had been found dead inside that barn. Leah Miller, the oldest daughter, was the only survivor. Whispers around the community about the unspeakable evil that had transpired that night could still be heard.

When Beth told her suitor about the murders, his eyes gleamed with excitement. While he seemed to enjoy envisioning what had happened back then, the barn gave Beth the creeps. But she kept that to herself because he made her feel special. Beautiful. Important. For the first time in her life, she longed for things not found among the Plain people of St. Ignatius. A life of pretty things. Like he promised.

Last night when they’d met, he’d asked her to run away with him. Her heart had overflowed with eagerness until reality tamped down her happiness, and Beth realized she wasn’t ready to leave her home. Her family. While she remained torn between staying Amish forever and leaving with him, he’d told her he would drive by her house every day until she said yes. Part of her was thrilled—intrigued at the consuming way he watched her. The other part was scared. Beth did not understand his almost feral wildness.

She took the dust-covered sheet down and reached for the next one, pinning it to the clothesline with unsteady hands. When Mamm wasn’t watching, she’d sneak inside and rewash the soiled one. That way there wouldn’t be questions to answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the car slowing.

Brake lights flashed. She picked up the next sheet and hung it. When he honked, she whirled toward the sound while praying the family wouldn’t come to investigate. He slid out and leaned against the rotting fence post near the Miller property. Many times, Beth wished she could be as daring. He did not live by the same rules as the Amish. In his world, anything was possible. She still couldn’t imagine why he wanted her. A man so handsome could have his choice of any girl, Englisch or Plain. Why her?

When he realized he had her attention, he motioned her over. Beth felt obliged to shake her head, though she’d thought about him throughout the day. Was eager to see him again. She anticipated his kisses with every beat of her heart.

She touched her hands to her burning cheeks. Such thoughts were not gut, but she couldn’t help how she felt. With him, Beth felt truly alive. The hardest part was she had no one with whom to share how she felt. Her friend Eva listened, but Beth sensed she might be jealous.

She’d almost told her older sister Colette about him last Saturday night before the biweekly church service, but she’d lost her nerve. Married and ten years older, Colette had three kinner of her own.

Besides, her sister was always so serious. She would not understand this reckless feeling.

Until her sixteenth birthday, Beth hadn’t either. She’d loved everything about the Amish way of life. Then, she’d started her rumspringa and had gotten a taste of the freedom of the Englischer world. She liked it. Before him, she’d planned to join the church and eventually marry Caleb Wagler, but not before enjoying every minute of her running around. Now, Beth was not sure she wanted to spend the rest of her life in St. Ignatius, living on a farm like her sister with a house full of kinner pulling on her apron. He offered her excitement. Adventure. Love. How could she not accept those gifts?

She hung the last of the sheets and picked her way across the patches of grass in the bare yard to where he stood. The glint in his eyes as he watched her wasn’t anything like the way Caleb looked at her.

Beth stopped a few feet away. With the fence separating them, she snuck a peek over her shoulder. “You should not be here.” She tried to sound stern but failed miserably.

Without warning, he jumped the fence. Beth giggled as he grabbed her hands and tugged her closer. “Yes, I should. You belong to me, Beth Zook.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his proclamation, and she couldn’t help imagining what their life together would be like.

Foolishness, Beth. You waste the day with all your imprudent thoughts, she could almost hear Colette saying.

“Mamm will notice I’m gone soon. You must leave now.” She tried to tug her wrists free, but he tightened his grip to the point of pain, and a flash of anger glittered in those deep dark eyes. “You are hurting me,” she murmured, tears forming. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen before. A cruel side she didn’t much like.

He let her go. Smiled. Everything became right again with the curve of his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Beth.” The gentleness in his tone soothed her worries away. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You are such a flatterer.” She playfully swatted at his arm but secretly loved the way he spoke.

He leaned close and planted a kiss on her lips right there in broad daylight. Her legs turned to gelatin. A sigh escaped as warmth coursed through her limbs. After another stolen kiss, he released her.

“It’s true. Don’t be coy. You know you’re pretty.” His gaze skirted past her to the house. “And you deserve more than this life. Come away with me now.”

More than anything she wanted to, but when she thought about her mamm’s pained reaction to her middle daughter forsaking their faith, she couldn’t do it. “I told you, I cannot run away with you. And I have to go back to my chores.” She turned. Then, emboldened by his claims, she swung around, framed his face with her hands, and kissed him earnestly.

He chuckled at her brazenness. He snatched her hand once more. Though she secretly relished his desire to be with her so badly, she pretended differently. “Please, you must let me go. Mamm will see.”

“I don’t care.” A second passed before he finally relented. “Only if you promise to meet me tonight at our place.”

The eagerness in his eyes sent a shiver through her body. It made her hesitate. This was the man she adored. Surely, there was nothing to fear.

“I have something special planned for you,” he added with a cajoling smile when she wavered. “Something you’ll like.”

“If I can,” she whispered and pulled her hand free. They both knew she’d be there. As she ran across the scorching earth, Beth peered over her shoulder. He still stood next to the fence, grinning when he noticed her looking. She stumbled over the uneven ground. Heard him laughing.

As she stepped up on the porch, the front door opened and Mamm stood in the doorway, hands on hips. Her wrinkled brow furrowed at her daughter’s labored breathing.

“Komm, help your sister prepare supper.” Her mother studied Beth with narrowed eyes. Took in her flushed face. Her nervous hands. Had Mamm ever felt this way about Daed?

“Who is that out on the road?”

Beth struggled to keep her face blank. “Someone passing by, I suppose.” With one final glance his way and a secret smile, she hurried to go inside.

Her mother cast another disapproving stare at the car as Beth entered the house.

“I have something special planned for you.”

It was hard to keep the excitement to herself. She couldn’t wait to see the mysterious surprise he had in store.

***

Author Bio

Mary Alford is a USA Today bestselling author who loves giving her readers the unexpected, combining unforgettable characters with unpredictable plots that result in stories the reader can’t put down. Her titles have been finalists for several awards, including the Daphne Du Maurier, the Beverly, the Maggie, and the Selah. She and her husband live in the heart of Texas in the middle of 70 acres with two cats and one dog.

Social Media Links

MaryAlford.net
Goodreads
BookBub – @MaryAlford
Twitter – @maryalford13
Facebook – @MaryAlfordAuthor

Purchase Links:

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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/7mmm4y/among-the-innocent-by-mary-alford

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Silence on the Island: A Detective Liam O’Reilly Mystery by Stewart Giles

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn to share my Feature Post and Book Review for SILENCE ON THE ISLAND: A Detective Liam O’Reilly Mystery by Stewart Giles on this Book ‘n’ All Promotions Blog Tour.

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

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Book Blurb

January on the island of Guernsey is grim. It’s dark and depressing. Detective Liam O’Reilly expected as much.

What O’Reilly didn’t bargain for was the eerie silence on the island in the dead of winter.

And when an old lady disappears from a care home and reappears, dead on the grave of a soldier who died 80 years ago, O’Reilly has absolutely no idea what to think.

When more old people are found, murdered amongst the tombs of these dead soldiers, and O’Reilly is met with silence everywhere he turns, he really has no idea why these people had to die.

Then he finally hears the truth.

But it is a truth that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60838543-silence-on-the-island?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=yeFEmshBrG&rank=1

DI O’REILLY MYSTERIES:

Book 1 – Blood on the Island

Book 2 – Lies on the Island

Book 3 – Fear on the Island

Book 4 – Malice on the Island

Book 5 – Revenge on the Island

Book 6 – Christmas on the Island

Book 7 – Silence on the Island

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

SILENCE ON THE ISLAND: A Detective Liam O’Reilly Mystery (DI Liam O’Reilly Mysteries Book #7) by Stewart Giles is another exciting addition to this series. Each crime mystery can be read as a standalone book and while the characters progress in their relationships, it is still easy to follow.

It is a frigid and quiet January on Guernsey Island for DI O’Reilly and the entire team until elderly patients begin turning up dead one-by-one on the graves of past relatives in the war memorial graveyard. When the third victim is taken, he pretends to be dead and survives the night, but is unable to identify the large, but gentle man who took him.

O’Reilly and his team have no leads and no motive, but plenty of suspects. They hope to flush out the killer by claiming to have a description, but they get a lead from a young man, known to the other PCs as a shady character and they are willing to follow any lead at this point in the investigation to stop a killer.

I love this series, DI Liam O’Reilly and his team! The author always has several plot twists and red herrings thrown into each book and this one was no exception. O’Reilly is that grumpy, older friend you just have to love. His interactions with his daughter, girlfriend and adopted stray cat always add levity to the stories, but he is one hundred percent focused on his cases. His team keeps becoming more fully fleshed as characters, also. This is another book in this series that I read much too quickly and once again must wait for more to come, but it is always worth it.

I highly recommend this mystery, this series, and this author!

***

Author Bio

After reading English at 3 Universities and graduating from none of them, I set off travelling around the world with my wife, Ann, finally settling in South Africa, where we still live.

In 2014 Ann dropped a rather large speaker on my head and I came up with the idea for a detective series. DS Jason Smith was born. Smith, the first in the series was finished a few months later.

3 years and 8 DS Smith books later, Joffe Books wondered if I would be interested in working with them. As a self-published author, I agreed. However, we decided on a new series – the DC Harriet Taylor: Cornwall series.

The Beekeeper was published and soon hit the number one spot in Australia. The second in the series, The Perfect Murder did just as well.

I continued to self-publish the Smith series and Unworthy hit the shelves in 2018 with amazing results. I therefore made the decision to self-publish The Backpacker which is book 3 in the Detective Harriet Taylor series which was published in July 2018.

After The Backpacker I had an idea for a totally new start to a series – a collaboration between the Smith and Harriet thrillers and The Enigma was born. It brought together the broody, enigmatic Jason Smith and the more level-headed Harriet Taylor.

The Miranda trilogy is something totally different. A psychological thriller trilogy. It is a real departure from anything else I’ve written before.

The Detective Jason Smith series continues to grow with book 17 now available. In addition, I have a new series featuring an Irish detective who relocated to Guernsey. The first 7 books in the Detective Liam O’Reilly series are now available. There are also 3 stand alone novels.

Social Media Links

Website: www.stewartgiles.com

Twitter: @stewartgiles

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stewart.giles.33

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Open Your Eyes by Heather Fitt

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the blog tour for OPEN YOUR EYES by Heather Fitt. This is an intense debut thriller that I could not put down even with the sensitive subject matter.

Below you will find a book summary, my book review and the author’s bio. Enjoy!

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Book Summary

A Scottish journalist enters a dark online world in this unsettling novel of men, women, resentment, and rage…

Edinburgh reporter Frankie has finally been assigned a high-profile crime story about a series of sexual assaults, and relishes her big break. Her article focuses on the issue of women’s safety, which doesn’t seem to have improved much since the era of the Yorkshire Ripper.

When she faces a torrent of abuse online, it leads her to discover the phenomenon of incels— and puts her in the sights of those trying to stop her covering the story. But she refuses to back down. What she doesn’t realise is that in this murky online world, one man is being goaded into a spectacular and shocking attack with Frankie as his main target…

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61175847-open-your-eyes?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=lRPQKydnud&rank=1

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

OPEN YOUR EYES by Heather Fitt is an intense debut thriller featuring a Scottish reporter who begins to cover a series of sexual assaults and finds herself becoming a target from a dark on-line group. This is a debut standalone novel that had me on an emotional roller coaster from beginning to end.

Frankie Currington is a junior reporter for an Edinburgh paper who is finally getting some recognition for her stories. She is anticipating her big break when she is given the chance to write a crime beat story after attending the press conference for a series of sexual assaults. What she does not expect is the torrent of on-line abuse.

Liam has been publicly humiliated by a girl he cares for in his high school. He turns from his few male school mates and finds a welcome understanding in an on-line group of young men known as “incels”. The group goads as well as indoctrinates its members into believing all girls and women should be in a subordinate position in society and deserve anything that happens to them if they are not.

While Frankie refuses to back down from intimidation and physical abuse, she does not realize that she has placed herself as a figurehead that Liam is being indoctrinated to hate. They are on a collision course which could lead to terrible consequences.

This is an emotional thriller from start to finish. The plot is fast-paced and well researched with believable dialogue. This story contains sexual assaults, on-line indoctrination, bullying, misogyny, and discussions of feminism. Frankie was a character that was naïve, selfish, and made some decidedly stupid decisions during the story. It was hard to empathize with her even when she was in danger. Liam was a sympathetic character even as he was being groomed to be a weapon. This story contains many thought-provoking situations and character discussions. I am impressed that this is a debut book from this author.

I recommend this intriguing thriller, but it does contain trigger issues for some readers.

***

Author Bio

Heather was born in Scotland and after moving around Europe with her parents and sister, settled in Hampshire where she met her husband, Stuart.

After leaving the rat-race in 2018, Heather re-trained as an editor and proof-reader and entered the world of publishing. These days she works as a part-time freelancer and a part-time Commissioning Advisor for Bloodhound.

Heather was inspired to start writing her novel by the authors who have become her closest friends. Now the ideas are flowing she has plans to write several more over the coming years.

When she isn’t reading, Heather enjoys spending her time watching sport –¬ especially her beloved rugby – and exploring the British countryside with Stuart.

For regular bookish updates, you can follow Heather on Twitter: @LifeBookish

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Lost and Found Girl by Maisey Yates

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE LOST AND FOUND GIRL by Maisey Yates on the HTP 2022 Summer Reads Blog Tour.

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

***

Book Summary

The small Oregon town of Pear Blossom welcomes the return of its prodigal daughter Ruby McKee. Found abandoned as a baby by the McKee family, Ruby is the unofficial town mascot, but when she and her adoptive sisters start investigating the true circumstances around her discovery, it soon becomes clear that this small town is hiding the biggest, and darkest, of secrets. A raw, powerful exploration of the lengths people go to protect their loved ones, for fans of Lori Wilde and Carolyn Brown.

Ruby McKee is a miracle.

It’s a miracle she survived, abandoned as a newborn baby. A miracle that she was found by the McKee sisters. Her discovery allowed the community of Pear Blossom, Oregon, broken by a devastating crime, to heal. Since then, Ruby has lived a charmed life. But she can’t let go of the need to know why she was abandoned, and she’s tired of not having answers.

Dahlia McKee knows it’s not right to resent Ruby for being special. But uncovering the truth about sister Ruby’s origins could allow Dahlia to carve her own place in Pear Blossom history… if she’s brave enough to follow her heart.

Widowed sister Lydia McKee doesn’t have time for Ruby’s what if’s – when Lydia’s right now is so, so hard. Her husband’s best friend Chase might be offering to share some of the load, but can Lydia ever trust her instincts around him?

Marianne Martin is glad that her youngest sister is back in town, but balancing Ruby’s crusade with the way her own life is imploding is turning into a bigger chore than she imagined. Especially when Ruby starts overturning secrets about the past that Marianne has spent a lifetime trying to pretend don’t exist.

And when the truth about Ruby’s miraculous origins, and the crime from long ago, turn out to be connected in ways no one could have expected, will the McKee sisters band together, or fall apart?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59040887-the-lost-and-found-girl?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=QL1RSBi254&rank=1

THE LOST AND FOUND GIRL

Author: Maisey Yates

ISBN: 9781335503206

Publication Date: July 26, 2022

Publisher: HQN Books

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE LOST AND FOUND GIRL by Maisey Yates is a women’s fiction story with romantic elements featuring four sisters in small town Pear Blossom, Oregon, and the emotional upheaval in all their lives a quest for truth sets in motion. This standalone story is not the usual contemporary cowboy romance I have read from this author previously.

Ruby McKee, the miracle baby, has returned from her travels all over Europe to accept the job offer from the historical society in her small hometown. While Ruby has always been interested in history, her sister, Dahlia is determined to revitalize their town’s print paper. Marianne has the perfect marriage and her own small business, but she is having difficulty connecting to her moody teenage daughter. Lydia is the sister they are all worried about. She has two young children and has lost her husband to ALS and her sisters have not seen her grieve.

As they are all reunited, they must navigate their past sibling relationships and secrets which could rip them apart or bring them closer together to survive any truth no matter how difficult.

This is an intriguing look into adult sibling relationships and the men they love, intertwined with two cold case mysteries. I was not sure where the story was going at first, but once I had the people and storylines sorted, it became a story I found difficult to put down. The climax was a complete surprise that I did not see coming, but it was realistic and sad. Even with all the revelations, Ms. Yates was able to bring the sisters to a believable ending.

This is both a thought provoking and entertaining women’s fiction story.

***

Excerpt

one

Ruby

Only two truly remarkable things had ever happened in the small town of Pear Blossom, Oregon. The first occurred in 1999, when Caitlin Groves disappeared one fall evening on her way home from her boyfriend’s family orchard.

The second was in 2000, when newborn Ruby McKee was discovered on Sentinel Bridge, the day before Christmas Eve.

It wasn’t as if Pear Blossom hadn’t had excitement before then. There was the introduction of pear orchards—an event which ultimately determined the town’s name—in the late 1800s. Outlaws who lay in wait to rob the mail coaches, and wolves and mountain lions who made meals of the farmers’ animals. The introduction of the railroad, electricity and a particularly active society of suffragettes, when women were lobbying for the right to vote.

But all of that blended into the broader context of history, not entirely dissimilar to the goings-on of every town in every part of the world, as men fought to tame a wild land and the land rose up and fought back.

Caitlin’s disappearance and Ruby’s appearance felt both specific and personal, and had scarred and healed—if Ruby took the proclamations of various citizens too literally, which she really tried not to do—the community.

Mostly, as Ruby got out of the car she’d hired at the airport and stood in front of Sentinel Bridge with a suitcase in one hand, she marveled at how idyllic and the same it all seemed.

The bridge itself was battered from the years. The wood dark and marred, but sturdy as ever. A white circle with a white 1917, denoting the year of its construction, was stenciled in the top center of the bridge, just above the tunnel that led to the other side, a pinhole of light visible in the darkness across the way.

It was only open to foot traffic now, with a road curving wide around it and carrying cars to the other side a different way. For years, Sentinel Bridge was closed, and it wasn’t until a community outreach and education effort in the mid nineties that it was reopened for people to walk on.

Ruby could have had the driver take her a different route.

But she wanted to cross the bridge.

“Are you sure you want me to leave you here?” her driver asked.

She’d told him when she’d gotten into his car that she was from here originally, and he’d still spent the drive explaining local landmarks to her, so she wasn’t all that surprised he didn’t trust her directive to leave her in the middle of nowhere.

He was the kind of man who just knew best.

They’d just driven through the town proper. All brick—red and white and yellow—the sidewalks lined with trees whose leaves matched as early fall took hold. It was early, and the town had still been sleepy, most of the shops closed. There had been a runner or two out, an older man—Tom Swenson—walking his dog. But otherwise it had been empty. Still, it bore more marks of civilization than where they stood now.

The bridge was nearly engulfed in trees, some of which were evergreen, others beginning to show rusted hints of autumn around the edges. A golden shaft of light cut over the treetops, bathing the front of the bridge in a warm glow, illuminating the long wooden walk—where the road ended—that led to the covered portion, but shrouding the entrance in darkness.

She could see what the man in the car saw. Something abandoned and eerie and disquieting.

But Ruby only saw the road home.

“It’s fine,” she said.

She did not explain that her parents’ farm was just up the road, and she walked this way all the time.

That it was only a quarter of a mile from where she’d been found as a baby.

She had to cross the bridge nearly every day when she was in town, so she didn’t always think of it. But some days, days like this after she’d been away awhile, she had a strange, hushed feeling in her heart, like she was about to pay homage at a grave.

“If you’re sure.” His tone clearly said she shouldn’t be, but he still took her easy wave as his invitation to go.

Ruby turned away from the retreating car and smiled, wrapping both hands around the handle of her battered brown suitcase. It wasn’t weathered from her own use. She’d picked it up at a charity shop in York, England, because she’d thought it had a good aesthetic and it was just small enough to be a carry-on, but wasn’t like one of those black wheeled things that everyone else had.

She’d cursed while she’d lugged it through Heathrow and Newark and Denver, then finally Medford. Those wheely bags that were not unique at all had seemed more attractive each time her shoulders and arms throbbed from carrying the very lovely suitcase.

Ruby’s love of history was oftentimes not practical.

But it didn’t matter now. The ache in her arms had faded and she was nearly home.

Her parents would have come to pick her up from the airport but Ruby had swapped her flight in Denver to an earlier one so she didn’t have to hang around for half the day. It had just meant getting up and rushing out of the airport adjacent hotel she’d stayed in for only a couple of hours. Her Newark flight had gotten in at eleven thirty the night before and by the time she’d collected her bags, gotten to the hotel and stumbled into bed, it had been nearly one in the morning.

Then she’d been up again at three for the five o’clock flight into Medford, which had set her back on the ground around the time she’d taken off. Which had made her feel gritty and exhausted and wholly uncertain of the time. She’d passed through so many time zones nothing felt real.

She waved the driver off and took the first step forward. She paused at the entry to the bridge. She looked back over her shoulder at the bright sunshine around her and then took a step forward into the darkness. Light came up through the cracks between the wood on the ground and the walls. At the center of the bridge, there were two windows with no glass that looked out over the river below. It was by those windows that she’d been found.

She walked briskly through the bridge and then stopped. In spite of herself. She often walked on this bridge and never felt a thing. She rarely felt inclined to ponder the night that she was found. If she got ridiculous about that too often, then she would never get anything done. After all, she had to cross this bridge to get home.

But she was moving back to town, not just returning for a visit, and it felt right to mark the occasion with a stop at the place of her salvation. She paused for a moment, right at the spot between the two openings that looked out on the water.

She had been placed just there. Down on the ground. Wrapped in a blanket, but still so desperately tiny and alone.

She had always thought about the moment when her sisters had picked her up and brought her back to their parents. It was the moment that came before that she had a hard time with. The one where someone—it had to have been her birth mother—had set her down there, leaving her to fate. To die if she died, or live if she was found. And thankfully she’d been found, but there had been no way for the person who had set her there to know that would happen.

It had gotten below freezing that night.

If Marianne, Lydia and Dahlia hadn’t come walking through from the Christmas play rehearsal, then…

She didn’t cry. But a strange sort of hollowness spread out in her chest.

But she ignored it and decided to press on toward home. She walked through the darkness of the bridge, watching as the light, the exit loomed larger.

And once she was outside, she could breathe. Because it didn’t matter what had happened there. What mattered was every step she had taken thereafter. What mattered was this road back home.

She walked up the gravel-covered road, kicking rocks out of her way as she went. It was delightfully cold, the crisp morning a reminder of exactly why she loved Pear Blossom. It was completely silent out here except for the odd braying of a donkey and chirping birds. She looked down at the view below, at the way the mist hung over the pear trees in the orchard. The way it created a ring around the mountain, the proud peak standing out above it. A blanket of green and gold, rimmed with misty rose.

She breathed in deep and kept on walking, relishing the silence, relishing the sense of home.

She had spent the last four years studying history. Mostly abroad. She had engaged in every exchange program she could, because what was the point of studying history if you limited yourself to a country that was as young as the United States and to a coast as new as the West Coast.

She could remember the awe that she’d experienced walking on streets that were more than just a couple of hundred years old. The immense breadth of time that she had felt. And she had… Well, she had hoped that she would find answers somewhere. Because she had always believed that the answers to what ails you in the present could be found somewhere in the past.

And she’d explored the past. Thoroughly. Many different facets of it. And along the way, she done a bit of exploring of herself.

After all, that was half the reason she’d left. To try and figure out who she was outside of this place where everyone knew her, and her story.

Though, when she got close to people, it didn’t take long for them to discover her story. It was, after all, in the news.

Of course, she always found it interesting who discovered it on their own. Because that was revealing.

Who googled their friends.

Ruby obviously googled her friends, but that was because of her own background and experience. If those same friends had an equally salacious background, then it was forgivable.

But if they were boring, then she found it deeply suspicious that they engaged in such activities.

She came over a slight rise in the road and before her was the McKee family farm. It had been in the McKee family for generations. And Ruby felt a profound sense of connection to it. It might not be her legacy by blood, but that had never mattered to the McKees, and it didn’t matter to her either. This town was part of who she was.

And maybe that was why no matter how she had searched elsewhere, she was drawn back here.

Dana Groves, her old mentor, had called her six months ago to tell her an archivist position was being created in the historical society with some newly allocated funds, and had offered the job to Ruby.

Ruby loved Pear Blossom, but she’d also felt like it was really important for her to go out in the world and see what else existed.

It was easy for her to be in Pear Blossom. People here loved her.

It had been a fascinating experience to go to a place where that wasn’t automatically the case. Of course, she hadn’t stayed in one place very long. After going to the University of Washington, she had gotten involved in different study abroad programs, and she had moved between them as often as she could. Studying in Italy, France, Spain, coming to the States briefly for her graduation ceremony in May, and then going back overseas to spend a few months in England, finishing up some elective study programs.

But then, she’d found that instructive too. Being in a constant state of meeting new people. And for a while, the sheer differentness of it all had fed her in a way that had quieted that restlessness. She had been learning. Learning and experiencing and… Well, part of her had wondered if her first job needed to be away from home. To continue her education.

But then six months ago her sister’s husband had died.

And Dana’s offer of a job in Pear Blosson after she finished her degree had suddenly seemed like fate. Because Ruby had to come and try to make things better for Lydia.

Marianne and Dahlia were worried about Lydia, who had retreated into herself and had barely shed a single tear.

She’s acting just like our parents. No fuss, no muss. No crying over spilled milk or dead husbands.

Clearly miserable, in other words.

And Ruby knew she was needed.

One thing about being saved, about being spared from death, was the certainty you were spared for a reason.

Ruby had been saved by her sisters. And if they ever needed her…

Well, she would be here.

***

Author Bio

Maisey Yates is a New York Times bestselling author of over one hundred romance novels. Whether she’s writing strong, hard working cowboys, dissolute princes or multigenerational family stories, she loves getting lost in fictional worlds. An avid knitter with a dangerous yarn addiction and an aversion to housework, Maisey lives with her husband and three kids in rural Oregon. Check out her website, maiseyyates.com or find her on Facebook.

Social Media Links

Author Website: http://www.maiseyyates.com/

Facebook: Maisey Yates

Twitter: @maiseyyates

Instagram: @MaiseyYates

Purchase Links

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