#authorbio – Page 23 – Avonna Loves Genres

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Vice & Virtue by Justin M. Kiska

Vice & Virtue

by Justin M. Kiska

February 14 – March 11, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour and I will be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for VICE & VIRTUE (Parker City Mystery Book #2) by Justin M. Kiska.

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

***

Book Description

Parker City, 1984…

Three years after the Spring Strangler case rocked the historic Western Maryland city nestled at the foot of the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, life has returned to normal for Detective Ben Winters and his partner, Tommy Mason. With a new chief now leading the department and the city slowly crawling out of its economic distress, everything seems to be moving in the right direction.

Until one sweltering summer day, a killer begins targeting police officers. Ben and Tommy find themselves once again leading an investigation the likes of which Parker City has never seen. The detectives quickly come to realize that until the shooter is found, everyone wearing a badge is in danger. To complicate matters even further, when a recently unearthed skeleton mysteriously connects to the string of police homicides, Ben and Tommy begin to think their current case may be tied to events twenty years earlier.

But how could a skeleton buried two decades ago hold the key to solving their current case?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59830246-vice-virtue?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=Jg6QtFfnds&rank=1

VICE & VIRTUE

Parker City Mystery #2

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: February 15, 2022
Number of Pages: 288
ISBN: 978-1-68512-069-6
Series: Parker City Mysteries, #2 || Each book is a stand alone novel.

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

VICE & VIRTUE (A Parker City Mystery Book #2) by Justin M. Kiska is an engaging and gripping mystery/crime thriller/police procedural in the Parker City Mystery series. I am very surprised after reading the first book in this series, Now & Then that there is even a second book. (When and if you read the first book, which I highly recommend, you will understand my surprise.) This book is easily read as a standalone.

As Parker City begins to revitalize and rebuild, a skeleton is found under an old, condemned warehouse. Detective Sergeant Ben Winters and his partner Detective Tommy Mason are called to the scene.

Just as they begin to investigate the discovered skeleton, they are called to the murder scene of a fellow law enforcement officer. The old case goes on the back burner when a second and third officer are killed. As Parker City is just getting over the serial killer case from three years ago, Ben and Tommy now have a cop killer on the loose.

Ben and Tommy realize until they solve this case, all of their fellow officers are in danger But what they only come to realize as they work the current case is that the old skeleton from the warehouse may be tied to their present day murders.

I am as impressed with this second book as I was with the first. Mr. Kiska is very adept at plotting two timelines that intertwine with plenty of plot twists and are as equally important to the solution of the detectives’ current cases in the 1980’s as the older case from the 1950’s. Both main characters, Detective Sergeant Ben Winters and his partner, Detective Tommy Mason are fully fleshed, realistic, and likable. Their dialogue and banter is believable and enjoyable. A few of the secondary characters are a bit cliché, but not so much as to detract from my enjoyment of the story.

I highly recommend this mystery/crime thriller with two detectives I want to continue to follow in any decade in future books.

***

Excerpt

Tall and athletic, Tommy Mason always reminded Ben of Tom Selleck’s Magnum P.I. character from television. Tommy always had that whole ruggedly handsome thing going for him. Mixed with a little bit of a “bad boy” vibe and he drove the women wild.

Next to Ben’s clean-cut, buttoned-down appearance, their pairing caused many to do a doubletake. At first glance, they appeared to be complete opposites. But as one got to know them, they were very much alike. Each brought out the best in the other and at the end of the day, it was all about getting the job done. Sure, each had his own style, but that’s what made them such a formidable team.

Tommy’s apparent willingness to skirt the rules was always offset by Ben’s ability to find ways to use the rules to their benefit. Just as Ben’s refusal to play the internal politics game allowed Tommy to use his charm to keep too many feathers from getting ruffled amongst the powers-that-be. They each knew the other’s strengths and weaknesses and how to adapt them to their own, which is why they’d been so impressive in getting the PCPD’s Detective Squad off the ground.

“What are you doing here?” Ben asked, more than a little surprised to see his partner.

“Shirley from Dispatch called me. She thought I’d be interested,” Tommy explained. “And before you say anything about what I’m wearing, I just want to remind you, it is our day off, so I didn’t think I needed to get dressed up to come to a potential crime scene. Especially when we don’t actually know this is a crime scene yet.”

He was referring to the fact he had on a T-shirt and comfortable pair of jeans, as opposed to the full suit and tie Ben was wearing.

“Besides, now you don’t have to worry about getting your fancy suit muddy. I have no problems getting down there in the dirt,” Tommy smiled, pointing at the fresh mud stains on his knees. With that, he knelt back down to take another look at the exposed skeletal remains under the floorboards.

“So, tell me. What do we have?” Ben asked, crouching next to Tommy so he could get a better look.

“You can see there’s a pretty big cavity here under this part of the floor,” Tommy pointed out. “It’s got to be a good ten by ten area where the ground has been eaten away, even though it’s not too deep, less than a foot in some places. It’s definitely because of water…there’s a lot of mud down there. As the earth under the floor eroded, it uncovered the skeleton. Partway, at least. Of course, no one could see what was happening under here until our friend Mr. Haggarty had the unfortunate experience of stepping on a board that was rotted through and it snapped, sending him falling through the floor. You can see where he landed in the mud.

“And right there,” Tommy pointed, “you see the skull and top portion of the skeleton sticking out of the ground.”

“You came face-to-face with that thing, man?” Tommy looked over at the construction worker who was leaning against the wall. “Not a good way to start the day.”

“Yeah. You’re telling me,” Haggarty answered.

Turning back to the skeleton, Tommy said, “I’m no expert, but that hole in the skull right there…see it, it looks like it could be a GSW from a pretty heavy caliber gun.”

Leaning down and twisting his head so he could try and get a better look at the skull, Ben saw the hole and wondered if his partner was right. Finding a skeleton buried under the floor was one thing. Finding a skeleton buried under the floor with a bullet hole in its skull was something else. It took everything to a different level.

Standing and stretching their legs, Tommy said, “When Shirley first called me, I thought this was going to have been some kind of prank. Some kids snuck into the site on a dare and left a skeleton for the crew to find.”

“You thought kids somehow buried a skeleton under this building in the hopes someone would fall through the floor and find it?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. “Not to mention having to figure out how to bury the thing under the floor?”

“In my defense,” Tommy started, raising a finger and shaking it at his partner, “I didn’t know the skeleton was buried under the warehouse. I just knew they’d found a skeleton at the warehouse.”

The first thing that needed to happen was to get the skeleton out of the ground. That would be up to the crime scene techs. Even though he could easily reach in and pull the skull out to get a better look, Ben didn’t want to disturb anything more than it already had been when Lance Haggarty crashed through the floor. Thankfully, he hadn’t actually landed on the skull itself.

“So much for our day off,” Ben said, looking at his watch, wondering where the crime scene guys were.

***

Author Bio

When not sitting in his library devising new and clever ways to kill people (for his mysteries), Justin can usually be found at The Way Off Broadway Dinner Theatre, outside of Washington, DC, where he is one of the owners and producers. In addition to writing the Parker City Mysteries Series, he is also the mastermind behind Marquee Mysteries, a series of interactive mystery events he has been writing and producing for over fifteen years. Justin and his wife, Jessica, live along Lake Linganore outside of Frederick, Maryland.

Catch Up With Our Author

JustinKiska.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @JMKiska
Twitter – @JustinKiska
Facebook – @JMKiska

Purchase Links

Amazon

Goodreads

Feature Post and Book Review: The Doomsday Mother by John Glatt

Book Description

In The Doomsday Mother, bestselling true crime author John Glatt tells the twisted tale of Lori Vallow, accused of having her two children murdered to start a new life with her new husband, doomsday prepper Chad Daybell.

At first, the residents of Kauai Beach Resort took little notice of their new neighbors. The glamorous blonde and her tall husband fit the image of the ritzy gated community. The couple seemed to keep to themselves—until the police knocked on their door with a search warrant. Lori Vallow and Chad Daybell had fled to Hawaii in the midst of being investigated for the disappearance of Lori’s children back in Idaho—Tylee and JJ—who hadn’t been seen alive in five months.

For years, Lori Vallow had been devoted to her children and her Mormon faith. But when her path crossed with Chad Daybell, a religious zealot who taught his followers how to prepare for the end-times, the tumultuous relationship transformed her into someone unrecognizable. As authorities searched for Lori’s children, they uncovered more suspicious deaths with links to both Lori and Chad, including the death of Lori’s third and fourth husbands, her brother, and Chad’s wife.

In June 2020, the gruesome remains of JJ and Tylee were discovered on Chad’s property, and the newlyweds were arrested and charged with murder. And in a shocking development, horrifying statements revealed that the couple’s fanatical beliefs had convinced them the children had become zombies–a belief that may have led to their deaths.

Bestselling author and journalist John Glatt takes readers deeper into the devastating story of Lori Vallow and Chad Daybell in an attempt to unravel the lethal relationship of this doomsday couple.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57693511-the-doomsday-mother?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=JMT9MgkbKX&rank=1

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

THE DOOMSDAY MOTHER: Lori Vallow, Chad Daybell, and the End of the American Family by John Glatt is the true crime account of the lives of Lori Vallow and Chad Daybell and their twisted religious beliefs that became the theological justification for the murder conspiracies which led to the deaths of their spouses and Lori’s two minor children.

Lori Vallow had a turbulent young life. Even being a devout Mormon, she was married several times and moved continually. Finally with her fourth husband, she begins to find stability and happiness for herself and her children. But it was not to last. Lori began to study and follow extreme preppers and doomsday zealots that preached the end days were upon us and one of these people was Chad Daybell.

Lori begins her extreme belief in everything Chad teaches. Both lose their spouses, who are at first deemed natural deaths, and within two weeks of Chad’s wife’s death they are married to each other with no children in sight.

In a multi-jurisdiction investigation, the authorities begin to uncover a web of deaths surrounding the couple and then the remains of Lori’s children are found buried on Chad’s land.

Mr. Glatt’s writing brings you into Lori and Chad’s lives and beliefs with even handed descriptions that let the reader make their own conclusions of the crimes. They both had many supporters until the day the children were found. Some felt Lori was brainwashed and this was all Chad’s doing while others believe that Lori was just as guilty and smart enough to manipulate her brother’s involvement in the deaths and set up financial gains from every death. There is no conclusion to this horrific story currently with Chad still awaiting trial and Lori in a mental health facility unable to contribute to her own defense at this time.

I feel this true crime book is full of interesting information that I did not get while the case was in all the headlines. It is also heartbreaking and scary in this case and many more the way religion can be twisted with cult-like beliefs and destroy so many lives.

***

Author Bio

English-born John Glatt is the author of Golden Boy Lost and Found, Secrets in the Cellar, Playing with Fire, and many other bestselling books of true crime. He has more than 30 years of experience as an investigative journalist in England and America. Glatt left school at 16 and worked a variety of jobs—including tea boy and messenger—before joining a small weekly newspaper. He freelanced at several English newspapers, then in 1981 moved to New York, where he joined the staff for News Limited and freelanced for publications including Newsweek and the New York Post. His first book, a biography of Bill Graham, was published in 1981, and he published For I Have Sinned, his first book of true crime, in 1998. He has appeared on television and radio programs all over the world, including ABC- 20/20Dateline NBC, Fox News, Current Affair, BBC World, and A&E Biography. He and his wife Gail divide their time between New York City, the Catskill Mountains and London.

http://us.macmillan.com/author/johnglatt

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Margaret Truman’s Murder at the CDC by Jon Land

Murder at the CDC

by Jon Land

February 14 – March 11, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Margaret Truman’s MURDER AT THE CDC (A Capital Crimes Novel Book #32) by Jon Land.

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

***

Book Description

2017: A military transport on a secret run to dispose of its deadly contents vanishes without a trace.

The present: A mass shooting on the steps of the Capitol nearly claims the life of Robert Brixton’s grandson.

No stranger to high-stakes investigations, Brixton embarks on a trail to uncover the motive behind the shooting. On the way he finds himself probing the attempted murder of the daughter his best friend, who works at the Washington offices of the CDC. The connection between the mass shooting and Alexandra’s poisoning lies in that long-lost military transport that has been recovered by forces determined to change America forever. Those forces are led by radical separatist leader Deacon Frank Wilhyte, whose goal is nothing short of bringing on a second Civil War.

Brixton joins forces with Kelly Lofton, a former Baltimore homicide detective. She has her own reasons for wanting to find the truth behind the shooting on the Capitol steps, and is the only person with the direct knowledge Brixton needs. But chasing the truth places them in the cross-hairs of both Wilhyte’s legions and his Washington enablers.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57693174-murder-at-the-cdc?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=65KXT5tqqv&rank=1

Murder at the CDC

Genre: Political Thriller
Published by: Forge
Publication Date: February 15, 2022
Number of Pages: 304
ISBN: 978-1250238894
Series: Margaret Truman’s Capital Crimes, #32 | Each is a stand alone work.

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

MURDER AT THE CDC (A Capital Crimes Novel Book #32) by Jon Land is the latest political/crime thriller in this long running series started by Margaret Truman. This is the second book in the series that Jon Land has written, and he does a great job of giving the reader continuity with the previous books. It is an exciting crime/political thriller filled with “what-ifs” extrapolated from today’s headlines. These books can all be easily read as standalone novels.

Robert Brixton comes close once again to losing a loved one when his grandson in caught up in a mass shooting incident on the Capital’s steps. As he begins to investigate the motive for the shooting, he is also asked by his long-time friend to meet with his daughter who works for the CDC in their Washington office who he believes is in trouble. She ends up in the hospital fighting for her life from an unknown poison.

Brixton joins forces with Kelly Lofton who works for the Capital police and the two discover a scheme to change America forever with a bioweapon believed lost on a long-ago military transport.

I love these types of thrillers when they are well written as this one is. They are just plausible enough to be scarily believable and thank goodness there is always someone of principle to stand in the way of all the evil doers. Fast paced, action packed and full of twists, I could not put the book down. All the characters, good and bad, were well drawn. There are a very few times the pace slows down a bit, but the information given at these times is interesting and adds to the escalating consequences of the protagonists not saving the day.

I really enjoy reading Mr. Land’s additions to this series, and I am looking forward to reading many more in the future.

***

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

“The hand of God is upon You! He is my shepherd and I shall not want!”

Those were the last words high school sophomore Ben McDonald heard before the shooting started. He and the other students clustered around him from the Gilman School in Maryland were on a school field trip to the Capitol Building from their Baltimore prep school, the first such trip taken since academic life returned to a degree of normalcy following the endless coronavirus nightmare. Everyone had shown up in their school uniforms, the buses had left on schedule, and the students felt like pioneers, explorers blazing a trail back into the world beyond shutdowns and social distancing.

The reduction in Capitol tour group size was still in force and had necessitated the two bus-loads of students to be divided into five groups of fifteen, give or take, three chaperones allotted to each. Ben and his twin brother Robbie’s group had gone first and they had found themselves lingering on the Capitol steps, taking pictures and chatting away with their local congressman and senator who’d come out to greet and mingle with the students on the steps at the building’s east front.

“Why are you still wearing a mask?” one of them had asked the congressman, but Ben had already forgotten the answer.

He remembered checking the time on his phone just before he heard the first shots. Ben thought they were firecrackers at first, realizing the truth a breath later when the screams began and bodies started flying.

“I am doing the Lord’s work! I am a sacrifice to his word!”

Somehow Ben gleaned those words through the screams and incessant hail of fire. The shots were coming so fast he wasn’t sure if the shooter was firing on semi or full auto. The boy never actually saw him as more than a shape amid the blur before him, enveloping his vision like a dull haze. The thin sheer curtain drawn over his eyes didn’t keep him from recording bodies crumpling, keeling over, tumbling down the steps. The force of a bullet’s momentum slammed a classmate into him, sparing Ben the ensuing fusillade that turned the other boy’s back into a pin cushion.

My brother!

The panic and shock of those initial seconds had stolen thought of Robbie from him. He wheeled about, covered in the blood of boy who had dropped off the scene.

“Robbie!”

Did he cry out his name or only think it? The steps around him looked blanketed in khaki and blue, pants and blazers that made up his Gilman uniform. The sound of gunfire continued to resound in his ears, but he wasn’t sure the shooter was still firing because no more bodies seemed to be falling. People were running in all directions, crying and screaming, Ben remaining frozen out of fear for his brother.

“Robbie!”

He saw his brother’s sandy blond hair draped down from one of the marble steps onto another. Nothing else at first, just the hair. Maybe he had dove atop a friend who’d been wounded to spare that kid more fire—that was Robbie. But there was no one beneath Him, and . . . And . . .

He wasn’t moving, his arms stretched to the sides on angles that looked all wrong. Ben dropped to his knees next to Robbie, his pants sinking into pooling patches of blood which merged and thickened beneath him. He felt something pinching him along right side of his ribcage and saw his blue shirt darkening with a spreading wave of red in the last moment before he collapsed next to his brother.

***

Author Bio

JON LAND is the USA Today bestselling author of fifty-eight books, including eleven in the critically acclaimed Texas Ranger Caitlin Strong series, the most recent of which, Strong from the Heart, won the 2020 American Fiction Award for Best Thriller and the 2020 American Book Fest Award for Best Mystery/Suspense Novel. Additionally, he has teamed up with Heather Graham for a science fiction series that began with THE RISING (winner of the 2017 International Book Award for best Sci-fi Novel) and continues with BLOOD MOON, to be published in November of 2022. He has also written six books in the Murder, She Wrote series of mysteries and has more recently taken over Margaret Truman’s Capital Crimes series, with his second effort, MURDER AT THE CDC, to be published in February of 2022. Jon is known as well for writing the film DIRTY DEEDS, a teen comedy starring Milo Ventimiglia and Zoe Saldana, which was released in 2005. A graduate of Brown University, he received the 2019 Rhode Island Authors Legacy Award for his lifetime of literary achievements.

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Goodreads

***

RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/isv9i5/murder-at-the-cdc-by-jon-land

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: A Lullaby for Witches by Hester Fox

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for A LULLABY FOR WITCHES by Hester Fox on the HTP Winter 2022 Historical Fiction 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

Augusta Podos has just landed her dream job, working in collections at a local museum, Harlowe House, located in the charming seaside town of Tynemouth, Massachussetts. Determined to tell the stories of the local community, she throws herself into her work–and finds an oblique mention of a mysterious woman, Margaret, who may have been part of the Harlowe family, but is reduced to a footnote. Fascinated by this strange omission, Augusta becomes obsessed with discovering who Margaret was, what happened to her, and why her family scrubbed her from historical records. But as she does, strange incidents begin plaguing Harlowe House and Augusta herself. Are they connected with Margaret, and what do they mean?

Tynemouth, 1872. Margaret Harlowe is the beautiful daughter of a wealthy shipping family, and she should have many prospects–but her fascination with herbs and spellwork has made her a pariah, with whispers of “witch” dogging her steps. Increasingly drawn to the darker, forbidden practices of her craft, Margaret finds herself caught up with a local man, Jack Pryce, and the temptation of these darker ways threatens to pull her under completely.

As the incidents in the present day escalate, Augusta finds herself drawn more and more deeply into Margaret’s world, and a shocking revelation sheds further light on Margaret and Augusta’s shared past. And as Margaret’s sinister purpose becomes clear, Augusta must uncover the secret of Margaret’s fate–before the woman who calls to her across the centuries claims Augusta’s own life.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57578395-a-lullaby-for-witches?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=PVZImoOHji&rank=1

LULLABY FOR WITCHES

Author: Hester Fox

ISBN: 9781525804694

Publication Date: February 1, 2022

Publisher: Graydon House

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

A LULLABY FOR WITCHES by Hester Fox is an atmospheric gothic novel with romance and supernatural elements.

Augusta Podos has landed her dream job in a historic home turned museum, the Harlow House in Tynemouth, MA. The home was owned by a wealthy New England family for centuries. As Augusta researches the family, she is drawn to a mystery. A daughter of the Harlowe family from over a century ago has almost been completely expunged from the family history.

Margaret Harlowe is always drawn to the wilderness of the forest and coast by her family’s home. The women in town come to her for potions and aid in the dark, but never by day. The people whisper “witch”. When Margaret learns some buried truths, her power takes a darker turn.

As Augusta digs deeper, can she resist the power that Margaret unfurls between the two across the lines of blood and time to save and keep her own life?

This story pulled me in with both women and both timelines. The author is great at setting a sinister atmosphere with plenty of twists and surprises. The two intertwining timelines with alternating perspectives come together at the climax with a twist that is foreshadowed and though easily resolved, it was still entertaining. Augusta and Margaret are great characters, but there are trigger issues with an eating disorder and abuse. I would have liked a little more from the secondary characters, who for me, seemed two dimensional. I did enjoy all the family research and felt the historical information was very accurate.

Overall, an entertaining atmospheric gothic read.

***

Excerpt

Prologue

Margaret

I was beautiful in the summer of 1876. The rocky Tynemouth coast was an easy place to be beautiful, though, with a fresh salt breeze that brought roses to my cheeks and sun that warmed my long hair, shooting the chestnut brown through with rich veins of copper. It was enough to make me forget—or at least, not care—that I was an outsider, a curiosity who left whispers in my wake when I walked through the muddy streets of our coastal town.

Do I miss being beautiful? Of course. But it’s the being found beautiful by others that I miss the most. It was the ambrosia that made an otherwise solitary life bearable. And it was being found beautiful by one man in particular, Jack Pryce, that I miss the most.

He would come to find me out behind my family’s house as I helped our maid hang the laundry on the lines or weeded my rocky garden. He always brought me a little gift, whether it was a toffee wrapped in wax paper from his parents’ shop, or just a little green flower he had plucked because it reminded him of my eyes. Something that told me I was special, that those stories around town of him stepping out with the Clerkenwell girl weren’t true.

“There she is,” he would say, coming up with his hands in his pockets and crooked grin on his full lips. “My lovely wildflower.” He called me this, he said, on account of my insistence on going without shoes on warm days when the grass was soft and lush. Whatever little chore I was doing would soon be forgotten as I led him out of sight of the house. With my back against a tree and his hands traveling under and up my skirts, we found euphoria in a panting tangle of limbs and hoarsely whispered promises. Heavy sea mists mingling with sweat in hair (his), the taste of berry-sweet lips (mine), the gut-deep knowing that he must love me. He must. He must. He must.

But like all things, summer came to an end, and autumn swept in with her cruel winds and killing frosts. Jack came less and less often, claiming first that it was work at the shop, then that he could no longer be seen with the girl who was rumored to practice witchcraft and worship at the altar of the moon on clear nights. Finally, on a day where the rain fell in icy sheets and even the screeching cries of the gulls could not compete with the howling wind, I realized he was not coming back.

Time moves differently now. Then, it was measured in church bells and birthdays, clock strokes and town harvest dances. It was measured in the monthly flow of my courses, until they stopped coming and my belly grew distended and full. Now—or perhaps it is better to say “here”—time is a fluid thing, like water that flows in all directions, finding and filling every crack and empty place, like my womb and my heart.

I did not want to give the babe up, though I knew it could only bring heartache and pain to my family. A mother’s heart is a stubborn thing, and no sooner had I felt the first stirrings of life within me, than I knew I would do anything in the world to protect my little one.

It was folly, I know that now. A woman like me could never hope to bring a child into this cruel world, could never hope that the honey-sweet words of a man like Jack Pryce carried any weight. What irony that I should not realize such simple truths until it was too late. Should not realize them until my blood ran icy in my veins and my broken heart stopped beating. Until the man I thought had loved me stood over my body, staring down as the life ran out of me like a streambed running dry. Until I was dead and cold and no longer so very beautiful.

Augusta

“Hello?” Augusta threw her keys on the table and slung her bag onto one of the kitchen chairs. As usual, a precarious stack of plates had taken over the sink, and the remnants of a Chinese food dinner sat out on the table. Sighing, she covered the leftovers with plastic wrap, stuck them in the fridge and followed the sounds of video games to the living room.

“I’m home,” she said tersely to the two guys hunched over their gaming consoles.

Doug barely glanced up, but her boyfriend, Chris, threw her a quick glance over his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re just finishing up.” Turning back, he continued mashing keys on the game controller, shaking his dark fringe from his eyes and muttering colorful insults at his opponent.

Chris and Doug weren’t the best housemates. Sure, they paid their share of the rent on time, but the house was constantly a mess, and video games took priority over household chores. She supposed that’s what she got for living with her boyfriend and allowing his unemployed brother to move in with them.

“Well, I guess I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Augusta said, too exhausted to pick a fight about the mess in the kitchen.

“You can stay and watch,” Chris said without turning back around.

She’d had a long, hard day. Between the air-conditioning being broken at work and discovering she only had ninety-eight dollars in her bank account after paying her cell phone bill, she wasn’t in the mood to watch Chris and Doug massacre each other with bazookas. She grabbed an apple from the kitchen, and went back to the room she shared with Chris, closing the door against the sounds of gunfire and explosions. Outside, the occasional car passed by in a sweep of headlights and somewhere down the street a dog barked. Loneliness curled around her as she sat at her laptop and began cycling through her bookmarked job listing sites.

Her job giving tours at the Old City Jail in Salem was all right; she got to work in a historic building, it was close enough that she could walk to work, and the polyester uniform was only a slightly nauseating shade of green. But it wasn’t challenging, and she wasn’t using her degree in museum studies for which she’d worked so hard. Not to mention the student debt she was still paying off. The worst was dealing with the public, though. Some of the people that showed up on her tours were engaged in her talks, but mostly the jail attracted cruise tourists who hadn’t realized that it was a guided tour and were more interested in snapping a quick picture for Instagram than learning about the history. The other day she’d really had to remind a full-grown man that he couldn’t bring an ice cream cone into the house, and then had to clean up said ice cream cone when he’d smuggled it inside anyway and dropped it. And the witches! Just because they were in Salem, everyone who came through the door assumed that there would be history about the witches, never mind that the jail didn’t even date from the same century as the witch trials. Most days she came home tired, irritable and unfulfilled.

From the other room came an excited shout as Chris blew up Doug’s home base. Augusta turned her music up. Most of the listings on the museum job sites were for fundraising or grant writing, the sliver of the museum world where all the money was. She knew she shouldn’t be choosy, the millennial voice of reason in her head telling her that she was lucky to have a job at all. But Chris, with his computer engineering degree, actually had companies courting him, and his job at a Boston tech firm came with a yearly salary and benefits.

She was just about to close her laptop when a new listing popped up. Harlowe House in Tynemouth was looking for a collections manager to work alongside their curator. As she scanned the listing, her heart started to beat faster. She wasn’t familiar with the property, but a quick search showed that it was part of a trust dedicated to the history and legacy of a seafaring family from the nineteenth century. She ticked off the qualifications in her head—an advanced degree in art history, museum studies or anthropology, and at least five years of experience. She would have to fudge the years, but other than that, it was made for her. She bookmarked the listing, making a mental note to update her CV in the morning.

The door swung open and Chris came in, plopping himself on the bed beside her. Tall, with an athletic build and dark hair that was perpetually in need of a trim, he was wearing a faded band shirt and gym shorts. “We’re going to order subs. What do you want?”

“Didn’t you just get Chinese food?” she asked.

“That was lunch.”

Augusta did a quick inventory in her head of what she’d eaten that day, how many calories she was up to, and how much money she could afford. After she’d fished ten dollars out of her purse, Chris wandered back out to the living room, leaving her alone. She picked up a book, but it didn’t hold her interest, and soon she was lost scrolling through her phone and playing some stupid game where you had to match up jewels to clear the board. A thrilling Saturday night if there ever was one.

In both college and grad school, Augusta had had a vibrant, tight-knit group of friends. She’d always been a homebody, so there weren’t lots of wild nights out at clubs, but they’d still had fairly regular get-togethers. Lunches and trips to museums, stuff like that. So what had happened in the last few years?

Her mind knew what had happened, but her heart refused to face the truth. Chris had happened.

She had been with him ever since her dad died. She’d run into Chris, her old high school boyfriend, at the memorial. He’d been a familiar face, and she’d clung to him like a life raft amid the turmoil of putting her life back together without her father. It had been clear early on that beyond some shared history, they didn’t have much in common, but he was steady, and Augusta had craved steady. A year passed, then two, then three, and four. She had invested so much time in the relationship, sacrificed so many friends, that at some point it felt like admitting defeat to break up. For his part, Chris seemed content with the status quo, and so five years later, here they were.

That night, after Chris had rolled over and was lightly snoring, Augusta lay awake, thinking of the job listing. The words Harlowe House, Harlowe House, Harlowe House ran through her mind like the beat of a drum. A signal of hope, a promise of something better.

***

Author Bio

Hester Fox is a full-time writer and mother, with a background in museum work and historical archaeology. A native New-Englander, she now lives in rural Virginia with her husband and their son.

Social Media Links

Author Website

Twitter: @HesterBFox

Facebook: N/A

Instagram: @hesterbfox

Purchase Links

Books-A-Million Powell’s

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Driven: A Rita Mars Thriller by Valerie Webster

Driven: A Rita Mars Thriller

by Valerie Webster

January 17 – February 11, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for DRIVEN: A Rita Mars Thriller by Valerie Webster.

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 giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Book Description

Ex-investigative journalist, Rita Mars loses an old friend to what looks like suicide. She’s convinced he was murdered to cover unethical maneuvers and save reputations in the abyss that is Congress. Back stabbings inside the beltway sometimes extend beyond metaphorical. She’s going to butt heads with the local good ole boy authorities and navigate the deliberately stoked smoke screens of the duly elected, but she is never going to give up.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58186872-driven?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=534omagbxX&rank=1

Driven: A Rita Mars Thriller

Genre: Thriller
Published by: Ignited Ink Writing
Publication Date: May 25th 2021
Number of Pages: 396
ISBN: 1952347033 (ISBN13: 978-1952347030)

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

DRIVEN: A Rita Mars Thriller by Valerie Webster is a debut P.I. thriller/crime mystery with an interesting new protagonist and cast of characters that I am looking forward to following in hopefully many more books to come.

Ex-investigative journalist, now private investigator Rita Mars shows up for a meeting with an old journalist colleague, only to find he has committed suicide. Something is not right with the scene, and Rita will not stop asking questions. Her friend was working an investigation in the beltway where dark money and unethical maneuvers seem to be behind a big pharma legislative bill.

At the same time, she is hired by a woman to document proof of a picture-perfect high-profile ex-husband stalking and terrorizing her. As Rita is investigating this case, he focuses his deadly obsession not only on his ex but also on Rita.

Two cases overlap and Rita is in the crosshairs.

Rita is an interesting protagonist. She is 45, a lesbian, has switched professions, has a lesbian police Captain best friend and a trans ex-Navy SEAL secretary/assistant. She also has past trauma in her life from an abusive alcoholic policeman father who committed suicide. I felt an instant connection to these characters, but there were a few times they felt more like caricatures, especially Bev, Rita’s assistant. The flow of the intertwining crime plots is realistic with believable investigations and build up at an ever-increasing pace to satisfying conclusions.

Overall, I enjoyed this debut P.I. thriller and will be looking for more in this series.

***

Excerpt

Chapter 1

“Rita Mars, this is a voice from your past.”

“Who the hell is this?” Rita demanded.

It was eleven o’clock, and the dreary end of a long day. A miserable October rain tapped on the office windows. Through the water slashed glass, Baltimore’s Mitchell Court House next door was a smear of grey and black.

“I first met you devouring Hershey bars in the newsroom at midnight.” The man was gleeful.

“That narrows it down.”

Great clue. Hell, she’d been a reporter for seventeen years before she started the agency. Rita cradled her chin. The police department snitch who gave up the narcs ripping off drug dealers? The accountant with the guilty conscience who squealed on the HUD housing contracts?

“We were a pair and then again we were not.”

“Look, pal, I don’t know –”

“I was the snow king and you were the fire breather.”

Rita started to hang up, but there was something eerily familiar about that line.

“You never know when you’ve had your last chance,” the man said.

“Bobby Ellis.” Instinctively, Rita touched the worn chrome Zippo in her pocket that bore those very words. Chills ran along her arms and the hair bristled at her neck.

“Bingo,” Ellis said.

“God, I’m so glad to hear from you. Where are you? When can I see you?

“Sunday.”

“Halloween?”

“The Overlook Inn in Harper’s Ferry. Breakfast at ten. I’ll have a lot to tell you. A story for above the fold.”

Rita scribbled his instructions on a blank notepad. “Tell me now.” Above the fold on a newspaper’s front page was reserved for big time news.

“Just be there.”

Rita thought he was hanging up.

“By the way—ever think you’d see me alive again?” Ellis asked softly.

“No,” Rita said. “I never thought I would.”

Chapter 2

Rita Mars sang along with the Shirelles. She glanced at the Jeep’s speedometer and then at the rearview mirror to check for approaching troopers.

The West Virginia countryside blazed with yellow and scarlet. Sunlight sprinkled the rock-strewn pastures with brilliance and made the car’s white hood shimmer like a snowfield. Even the black and white Holsteins seemed brighter than usual as they ripped up the last shreds of yellowed pasture grass.

Though it was late October, Rita had the top down on the Jeep. It was good to ride on this open road alone with the sun and wind. She couldn’t really be forty-five this year. She ran thirty miles a week and could still get into jeans the size she’d worn in college. Rita peered over the top of her Raybans and took another look in the mirror. Ok, so her dark hair was shot through with silver.

She smiled. It made her look more interesting. After all, how many older women had she fallen madly in love with in her younger years?

Rita flipped the radio off and concentrated on her meeting with Bobby Ellis. She hadn’t seen him in forever. Yes, she had thought he might be dead. A superior journalist, he’d thrown it all away with a coke habit that he paid for with a career and a marriage. No one had seen or heard of him now for more than two years.

After he disappeared, a malaise had set. Rita abandoned investigative reporting and spend her time working on a detective’s license. She was going to right wrongs instead of writing about wrongs as she described her abrupt life change.

She sighed. She wanted to return to the happier thoughts that had so recently danced in her head.

A red truck with a rainbow sticker on the front bumper appeared the in oncoming lane. Rita’s smile came back and she waved as they raced each other.

“We’re everywhere. We’re everywhere,” she hummed to herself.

She returned to her former mood of excited anticipation. She was seeing Bobby again.

They had been reporters together on the Washington Star. More like brother and sister than co-workers, they had fought over editorial recognition, wept on each other’s shoulders, and held each other’s hand during their respective long, dark nights of the soul.

Rita tried sweet talk at first when his habit began to devour him. Then she got tough. They fought bitterly. In the end, he surrendered everything to the white powder.

She’d been as angry with herself as with him. She couldn’t make him stop. Like a flashback, the feelings were the same when she thought about her childhood. She hadn’t been able to stop the runaway train her father rode either. Alcohol carried him far and fast. In the end, he stuck his police revolver into his mouth and killed his pain.

Bad memories again. Rita shook her head and switched the radio back on.

“There she was, just a walkin’ down the street . . . “ Rita sang along at the top of her lungs and pushed the accelerator just a little farther with her docksider.

Five miles and three oldies but goodies later, she slowed as the road narrowed to the twisting mountainside lanes that led to Harper’s Ferry. Down the sheer embankment on the passenger’s side, she could see canoes below on this rocky segment of the Potomac. She took a deep breath. The cobwebs of leftover memory cleared. It was a gorgeous day. At the top of a steep winding hill, Rita spied the flagpole that stood in the center of the Overlook Inn’s circular drive. Old Glory ruffled its red stripes in a soft October breeze that seemed more spring than autumn.

The parking areas along the drive were jammed with American made pickups and SUVs. Lots of military bumper stickers and window decals. Families just out of church hopped out of cars and headed for the Inn’s dining room and Sunday brunch buffet.

As she reached the crest, she had to slam on the brakes. The drive was blocked by two Harper’s Ferry sheriffs’ cars, a West Virginia trooper vehicle—blue gumball lights twirling—an ambulance from nearby Ransom, a fire truck and a dented beige Crown Vic with county plates.

Guests and townies milled around the west annex. A tall, grim-faced sheriff’s deputy held them at bay.

“What the heck is this?” Rita jumped out of the Jeep.

Inside, the interior of the Overlook lobby was cool and dark. The desk clerk was a woman with long red nails and a plunging neckline to her sundress. Her blue eye shadow made her look like an alien. Oblivious to Rita, she leaned across the far end of the registration counter to stare out the front door toward the commotion outside. Rita pulled off her Raybans.

“What happened?” Rita asked.

“Man killed hisself.” The woman continued to lean and stare over the counter.

The taste of metal rose in Rita’s throat. “Killed himself?”

“Room 107. Maid found him.” The clerk’s sense of duty returned and she walked toward the center of the counter where Rita stood. “Can I help you with something?”

Rita felt icy from the inside out. She dug her hand into her pocket to touch that Zippo talisman she always carried.

“I came here to meet someone.” The words jumbled in her mouth.

“Name?” The clerk absently flipped the registration book behind the counter.

Rita said nothing.

The clerk looked up then and said once more. “Name?”

“Bobby Ellis,” Rita whispered.

The two women stared at one another.

***

Author Bio

Valerie Webster spent a career developing law enforcement applications for surveillance, security and forensics. She has also been a triathlete and a crime reporter. She honed her writing skills through “Sisters in Crime” and “Mystery Writers of America’s” mentoring program. In DRIVEN: A RITA MARS THRILLER, she weaves professional experiences into a high tension plot that sweeps the reader into the action from Page 1 to the breath-taking conclusion.

Valerie makes her home near Boulder, CO.

Social Media Links

ValerieWebster.com
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram – @rmarsauthor
Twitter – @RMars4Hire
Facebook – @RMars4Hire

Purchase Links

Amazon

Goodreads

***

KINGSUMO GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/t9euhg/driven-a-rita-mars-thriller-by-valerie-webster-us-only

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Burden of Innocence by John Nardizzi

The Burden of Innocence

by John Nardizzi

December 6, 2021 – January 31, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for THE BURDEN OF INNOCENCE (The Infantino Files Book #2) by John Nardizzi.

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

***

Book Description

Private investigators Ray Infantino and Tania Kong take on the case of Sam Langford, framed for a murder committed by a crime boss at the height of his powers.

But a decade later, Boston has changed. The old ethnic tribes have weakened. As the PIs range across the city, witnesses remember the past in dangerous ways. The gangsters know that, in the new Boston, vulnerable witnesses they manipulated years ago are shaky. Old bones will not stay buried forever.

As the gang sabotages the investigation, will Ray and Tania solve the case in time to save an innocent man?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59521779-the-burden-of-innocence?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=aBHCAtzQz4&rank=1

The Burden Of Innocence

Genre: Mystery, Crime Noir
Published by: Weathertop Media Co.
Publication Date: December 5, 2021
Number of Pages: 290
ISBN: 978-1-7376876-0-3
Series: PI Ray Infantino Series, #2

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5out of 5 Stars

THE BURDEN OF INNOCENCE (The Infantino Files Book #2) by John Nardizzi is a P.I. crime mystery/thriller set in South Boston with a hard-boiled, truth and justice seeking P.I. named Ray Infantino. While this is the second book in the series, it is very easily read as a standalone.

P.I. Ray Infantino is hired by the attorney of Sam Langford, who has declared his innocence from the day he was sentenced for murder fifteen years previously.

The gritty South Boston of fifteen years ago has changed as well as alliances. As Ray investigates Sam’s case, he is finding a vicious Southie gangster and a corrupt police officer are still working to manipulate the witnesses’ whose false testimonies sent an innocent man to prison.

Can Ray discover the truth from the past and help free an innocent man?

I love an old case investigation with a white knight trying to prove a miscarriage of justice. Ray is no innocent, but he cannot tolerate injustice in the law and corrupt officials who are supposed to uphold that law. This story has chapters that flashback to the original crime and witnesses interspersed as the present-day case unfolds and even with the timeline jumps, I was never confused or lost. The characters are fully fleshed and believable. The investigation is character driven rather than technology being the focus which was a joy to read for a change in pace. This is a realistic investigative page turner.

I can highly recommend this P.I. crime mystery/thriller!

***

Excerpt

A SYSTEM OF JUSTICE

Boston Massachusetts

Chapter 1

Two burly guards from the sheriff’s department walked Sam Langford to the van. He noticed a newspaper wedged in a railing—his name jumped off the page in bold print: Jury to Decide Langford’s Fate In Waterfront Slaying. The presumption of innocence was a joke. You took the guilt shower no matter what the jury decided. He thought of his mother then, and the old ladies like her, reading the headline as they sipped their morning coffee across the city. He was innocent. But they would hate him forever.

A guard shoved Langford’s head below the roofline. He sat down in the cargo section, the only prisoner today. The guard secured him to a bar that ran the length of the floor, the chain rattling an icy tune. The van squealed off.

Langford’s head felt so light it could drift right off his shoulders. The van lurched, and he slid on the cold metal bench. The driver bumped the van into some potholes. Langford dug his heels into the floor. This was a guard-approved amusement ride, bouncing felon maggots off good ‘ol American steel. Sam had observed this man that morning. Something about his face was troubling. Sheriffs, guards, cops—most of them were okay. They didn’t bother him because he didn’t bother them. But cop work attracted certain men who hid their true selves. Men with a vicious streak that could turn an average day into a private torture chamber. These men were cancers to be avoided. Average days were what he wanted in jail. No violent breaks in the tedium.

The van careened on and stopped at a loading dock of the hulking courthouse, which jutted in the sky like a pale granite finger accusing the heavens. The last day of trial. Outside, Langford saw TV news vans and raised satellite dishes, the reporters being primped and padded for the live shot. The rear doors opened and the guard’s shaved skull appeared in silhouette. He tensed as the guard grabbed his arm and pulled him out. The guard wore a thin smile. “We’ll take the smooth road back. Just for you,” he muttered.

A clutch of photographers hovered behind a wall above the dock. Langford looked up at the blue sky, as he always did, focusing on breathing deeply. He would never assist, not for a minute, in his own degradation. He was innocent. He would not cooperate. Let them run their little circus, the cameras, the shouted questions, boom microphones drooped over his head to pick up a stray utterance. He leveled his jaw and looked past them. He knew he had no chance with them.

The guards walked him inside the courthouse and to an elevator. The chains clanked as they swung with his movement. They took the elevator to the eight floor where a court officer escorted the group into a hallway. Langford pulled his body erect toward the ceiling, as high as he could get. He intended to walk in the courtroom like some ancient Indian chieftain, unbowed. He was innocent and that sheer fact gave him some steel, yes it did.

The door opened and he stepped inside the courtroom. The gallery looked packed full, as usual. Cameras clicked. Low voices in the crowd hissed venom. “Death sentence is too good for you, asshole,” whispered one. He whispered a bit too loudly. A court officer wasted no time, hustling over and guiding the man to the exit.

Langford walked ahead, keeping his dark eyes focused. His family might watch this someday. Some ragged old news clip showing their son’s dark history. He struggled to keep the light burning behind his eyes. Something true, something eternal might show through. At least he hoped so. He had told his lawyer there would be no last-minute plea deal; he was innocent, and that was it.

As he walked, he felt the eyes of the crowd pick over him, watching for some involuntary tic that would betray his thoughts. But fear roiled his belly. He was afraid, no doubt. He knew the old saying that convicted murderers sat at the head table in the twisted hierarchy of a prison. But the fact remained—every prisoner walked next to a specter of sudden violence. He desperately wanted to avoid prison.

Keys rattled in the high-ceilinged courtroom as the officers unchained him. He rubbed his wrists and then sat down at the defense table. His defense lawyer, George Sterling, took the seat next to him. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a bright orange-yellow tie. The color seemed garish for the occasion.

“How you doing, Sam?”

“Hopeful. But ready for the worst.”

Sterling grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. But his eyes betrayed him. Langford got a sense even his lawyer felt a catastrophe was coming.

The mother of the dead woman sat one row away from his own mother. Even here, mothers bore the greatest pain. Both women stared at him. Langford nodded to his mother as she mouthed the words, “I love you”. He smiled briefly. He glanced at the mother of the dead girl but looked away. Her eyes blazed with hatred and pain. He wanted to say something. But the odds were impossible. The reporters would misconstrue any gesture; the court officers might claim he threatened her. He saw no way out. Even a basic act of human kindness became muddled in a courtroom.

A court officer yelled, “All rise.” The whispers died down, and the gallery rose. The judge came in from chambers in a black-robed flurry. The lawyers went to sidebar, that curious phenomenon where they gather and whisper at the judge’s bench like kids in detention. Then the judge signaled the sidebar was over and told the court officer to bring in the jury. The jurors walked to the jury box, every one of them fixed with a blank look on their faces. None of them met his eyes. One juror eventually looked over at him. He tried to gauge his fate in her flat eyes, the set of her face. But there was nothing to see.

As the judge and lawyers spoke, the lightheadedness left him. Everything came into focus. Langford watched the foreperson hand a slip of paper to a court officer. She took a few steps and handed the paper to the judge. The judge pushed gray hairs off her forehead, examined the paper and placed it on her desk. A silence descended. Shuffles of feet, small muted coughs. People waited for a meteor to hit the earth. The clerk read the docket number into the record and the judge looked over to the foreperson, a woman with long dark hair and glasses. “On indictment 2001183 charging the defendant Samuel Langford with murder, what say you madame foreperson, is the defendant not guilty or guilty of murder in the first degree?”

“We find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree.”

To Langford, the words seemed unreal, from a world away. A mist slid over his eyes. Gasps of joy, cries of surprise. A few spectators began clapping. The judge banged the gavel. Someone sobbed behind him, and this sound he knew; his mother was crying now openly. His body petrified. He couldn’t turn around.

Sterling put one hand on his shoulder, which snapped him back. The gesture irritated him. He didn’t want to be touched. Sterling’s junior assistant cupped his hand over his mouth. Sterling said something about the evidence, they would file an appeal. Langford stared at him. The reality of his new life began to emerge.

***

Author Bio

John Nardizzi is writer and investigator. His work on innocence cases led to the exoneration Gary Cifizzari and James Watson, as well as million dollar settlements for clients Dennis Maher and the estate of Kenneth Waters, whose story was featured in the film Conviction.
His crime novels won praise for crackling dialogue and pithy observations of detective work. He speaks and writes about investigations in numerous settings, including World Association of Detectives, Lawyers Weekly, Pursuit Magazine and PI Magazine. Prior to his PI career, he failed to hold any restaurant job for longer than a week. He lives near Boston, Massachusetts.

Social Media Links

JohnNardizzi.com
Goodreads
BookBub — @johnf4
Twitter — @AuthorPI
Facebook — @rayinfantino1

Want to start an InstaParty? Join us at #JohnNardizzi!