Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for NEVEREND by Blake Rudman on this Black Tide Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Inexplicably, huge locust swarms of Biblical proportions plague Austin, Texas: a sinister portent of terrifying things to come?
Dr. Jon Edom, hero surgeon, loving father, finds himself unwittingly drawn into the dark conspiracies surrounding the sinister Church of the Resurrected, which has uncomfortably close family ties to his wife, Rochelle.
Rochelle Edom, daughter of the Church’s founder, genius creator of the worldwide hit video game, NeverEnd, has left her coding days behind to focus on family life. She laments that the repetitive, highly-addictive game she designed shows an alarming increase in ill effects among its players: they emulate the characters’ violent actions with increasingly brutal consequences – which her husband witnesses first hand.
When Rochelle unexpectedly goes missing, along with her and Jon’s two young children, the doctor all too quickly becomes a suspect once old infidelities are exposed.
As Jon fights to clear his name under seemingly impossible, tragic circumstances, aided by his close friend, Rabbi Max, he becomes inexorably embroiled in the evil undercurrent of the Church of the Resurrected’s association with the enigmatic Coppersmith, who has a nefarious agenda all of his own…
NEVEREND by Blake Rudman is an intense dark noir thriller with philosophical and religious elements as well as a criminal investigation and trial. The unsettling atmosphere, fully developed characters, and multitude of questions with every plot twist kept me turning the pages in a race to the end…which ended in a cliffhanger! UGH!!
Rochelle Edom is a brilliant software engineer and creator of the highly addictive video game, NeverEnd. She is also the oldest daughter of the founder of The Church of the Resurrected. Having worked through the childhood of her twins, she decided to retire and focus on her and Jon’s two younger sons. She has had problems in her marriage with Jon working long hours and her bipolar disease, so when Jon goes away to a conference, she gathers her two sons and disappears.
Dr. Jon Edom is a dedicated surgeon, but evidence begins to point to Jon as having hurt his wife and sons, he finds himself accused of the murder. Yes, they were having problems, but he loved them and cannot understand why the detective investigating his case is so sure of his guilt.
Besides Jon’s trial with startling revelations, there are swarms of locust plaguing Texas, a video game that has people killing each other, a hurricane bearing down, and questionable religious leaders and sects out to destroy each other all intertwined into a world that is completely unstable and psychologically disturbing.
This is the second book I have read by this author and once again I read it completely in one sitting. The world-building and psychological tension kept me off balance and questioning my assumptions throughout. It is a dark thriller with the criminal investigation and trial, but there are also moments of what some may call karma, or others will say divine intervention. The pacing is intense throughout. My one pet peeve as always, although it did not change my rating, is that the book ends in a cliffhanger. I hate them and will usually not pick up the next book for that reason, but I will definitely be waiting for this follow-up. Mr. Rudman has hooked me again!
I highly recommend this powerful dark noir thriller!
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About the Author
Blake Rudman enjoyed a former, successful career in executive management, building his own companies from the ground up.
Success or not, Blake’s heart has always been in the written word, and the myriad ideas he spent much of his spare time jotting down in notebooks, Post-Its, and scraps of paper whenever the inspiration hit him.
Now a breakout author of six noir thriller novels, Blake’s destiny of becoming a writer of some renown is well under way.
When he’s not working diligently on his next novel, Blake spends quality time with his daughter and reading.
April Raines is facing the end of her long-term marriage after her husband begins another family. Eager for a fresh start, she returns home with her grown daughters to Crown Island, just off the coast of Southern California.
When Ryan Kingston acquires the historical Majestic Hotel, he is determined to bring the vintage Victorian beach resort back to life. But it could come at a steep cost to him and his carefully guarded privacy.
Especially when April Raines, head of the new Crown Island Historical Society, captures his attention. Will they both get a second chance at life?
BEACH VIEW LANE (Crown Island Book #1) by Jan Moran is an emotional and enjoyable beginning to a women’s fiction/family saga/romance mash-up series. It introduces us to the families and multiple characters of Crown Island which is just off the Californian coast. This first story in the series features the return of an island daughter after the end of a long-term marriage.
April Raines has done everything to support her husband as he climbed the higher education academic ladder. While there were problems, they always seemed to work them out, until this time. He has started another family with a much younger woman while April has been on Crown Island nursing her mother back to health after a bad case of pneumonia.
April is determined to start a new life of her own with her background in historical education on the island she has always loved with her mother, daughter, and best friend as the new head of the Crown Island Historical Society. Her love of the historical Majestic Hotel and its new owner have her intrigued to learn more about the planned renovations, but their first meeting does not go well.
Ryan Kingston has bought his financial partner out and is determined to restore the Majestic Hotel to its formal glory. What many on the island do not realize is that the new extremely private owner has a secret on the island that only very few know about, and he is worried if it is revealed, it will affect his ability to carry out his plans.
This is a wonderful, emotion filled start to a genre mash-up series. The island descriptions make me want to visit and hopefully meet all the island inhabitants. The characters were fully developed even in this first book and very relatable. I lived in a town like this island, where there were vast social dichotomies and I had empathy for Ryan’s dilemma and thought it was handled beautifully. There are no sex scenes in this book, it more family drama and the beginning of a romantic relationship. I am looking forward to reading more books in this series to follow not only April’s friend, Deb, but also April’s daughters.
I highly recommend this genre mash-up book and cannot wait to read more books in this new series.
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About the Author
Jan Moran is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of heartfelt women’s fiction series, beach reads, family sagas, and romantic 20th-century historical novels. Jan dreams up her popular, small-town contemporary beach books on sunny shores in Southern California. Don’t miss out on new releases and special offers – join Jan’s Readers Club on her website for all her news.
Pour a cup of tea or a glass of wine, open one of her books, and find yourself transported with characters you’ll soon be rooting for as friends. Jan is an avid traveler, so you’ll find her books infused with authentic locales and things she loves to research—from chocolate, wine, and food to history, fashion, and more. Readers often say that along with a heartwarming story, they also learn many fascinating details.
As a native of Texas who lived on the East Coast and worked in Paris, Hong Kong, and Canada, Jan brings a wealth of experience to every book she writes. She welcomes you to her wonderful world of storytelling.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SHADOWED WITNESS (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #2) by Angela Carlisle on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, and excerpt from the book, and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
A haunting attack. A killer in the shadows. A protective love.
Murder–that’s what photographer Allye Jessup knows she witnessed as she departed her studio one evening. Waking with bruises on her neck and a foggy memory, she believes she survived an attack, but everyone seems to think she simply sustained a head injury from falling down the stairs outside her studio. Plagued by an undiagnosed health condition, she is torn between the haunting reality of what she may have seen and the possibility that her mind is playing tricks on her.
Without proof the other victim ever existed, Detective Eric Thornton can hardly declare the area a murder scene. Still, he adds Allye’s report to his already full caseload. But when new evidence surfaces to support her claims, Eric must stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer and uncover the truth before the suspect closes in on Allye again.
Genre: Romantic Suspense Published by: Bethany House Publishers Publication Date: July 1, 2025 Number of Pages: 336 ISBN: 9780764242519 (ISBN10: 0764242512) Series: The Secrets of Kincaid, Book 2 (Amazon | Goodreads)
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
SHADOWED WITNESS (The Secrets of Kincaid Book #2) by Angela Carlisle is a fast-paced Christian romantic suspense featuring a female protagonist who does not know if she can believe what she remembers about a murder she witnessed, or did she? This is the second book in the Secrets of Kincaid series, and it can easily be read as a standalone book.
Photographer Allye Jessup has always been a little clumsy, but lately she has had mysterious symptoms that are severely affecting her daily life. As she waits for further testing, she is leaving her office one night and believes she hears something behind her building. She gets off a scream before she is choked into unconsciousness, but when she wakes up, the mayor who finds her believes she just fell down her office stairs and knocked herself out. When she is attacked in her home, the story is so strange that even her friend, one of the town’s detectives, is having trouble believing her.
Detective Eric Thornton wants to believe Allye, but there is no proof at either scene and he is consumed with other cases. When a body surfaces in a shallow grave in the park, it appears to have evidence that proves Allye’s story. Could Allye have seen more than she knows and really be in danger?
This is a page turner full of suspense and unknowns. Allye is dealing with mysterious health issues and does not want her family to worry, so she is bearing the burden alone until she is diagnosed, but it also puts her in even more danger. Eric has his own problems not only with his workload, but with family trauma while growing up. Even with all their personal problems, they feel an attraction and the threats to Allye make Eric more protective. This is a Christian romantic suspense and with Allye’s health issues there are no sex scenes. The suspense is constant and kept me turning the pages. I only guessed part of the crime plot conclusion and the solution to Allye’s health problems was a surprise until it was suggested as a cause.
I recommend this second Christian romantic suspense in this series and look forward to more.
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Excerpt
1
LIGHTS? CHECK.
Camera? Check.
Three bags and a purse? Check.
Allye Jessup looped all four sets of straps over her left shoulder and stepped out of her small second- story photography studio into a warm autumn evening. The sun had just set, but it was still light enough that the dusk- to- dawn light above the landing hadn’t kicked on yet. That wouldn’t last long, especially with the fog already beginning to move in.
Tightly gripping the rail, she started down the metal stairs. She didn’t need another fall, and the way her equilibrium had been off lately, she wasn’t taking any chances. When she was nearly at the bottom, a dull thud sounded from behind the building. Someone stifled a cry. Another thud.
What in the world? Allye hurried down the last few stairs and toward the noise. She slowed before she reached the corner. Fished in her pocket for her phone. She groaned silently. Not there. No telling which bag she’d stuffed it into. Or if she’d left it in her studio. Wouldn’t be the first time.
As she edged toward the back of the building, she heard a louder ka- thump as if something heavy had fallen. The sounds changed to a muted, almost rhythmic thumping. She reached the corner and peered around.
Two men. One standing back in the shadows, watching. The second man delivered another savage kick to something— no, someone— unmoving on the ground. The blow left the fallen man’s head tilted at an unnatural angle. Allye sucked in a breath.
The attacker swung around, chest heaving. Looked her straight in the eyes.
No. Allye pushed off the building and ran, bags flopping against her back and side. Pursuing footfalls pounded the gravel behind her. She didn’t dare look back. She had to get out into the open. Had to—
A heavy weight plowed into her back. She screamed. Tried to catch herself as she went down in a tangle of bags. Pain shot through her knees and wrists, but she pushed herself up. Turned to fight.
Her attacker shoved her against the side of the building. The back of her head bounced against the wall.
She screamed again. A rough hand closed around her throat, cutting off her cry and pinning her against the rough brick. Her hands flew to his, but his grip was like steel. Too tight for another scream. Just loose enough to allow her the slightest bit of oxygen.
“What do we have here?” He studied her, ignoring her strug- gles. He touched her hair, letting a curl wind around his finger, then slide off. His lips curved in a predatory grin. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
A new wave of fear skittered up her spine. She kicked, and the tip of her shoe connected solidly with his shin. He slapped her, then shifted his hold on her throat, lifting so her toes barely touched the ground. Rage glittered in his eyes.
And he started to squeeze.
She clawed at his fingers, his arm. He snatched both her hands in his free one with a grip that threatened to snap her wrists. Her vision darkened, punctuated by pinpricks of light. She tried to kick again, but he was too close and her strength was fading.
Someone shouted— the words garbled by the rushing in her ears. Hope flared.
Her attacker looked to the side, but the force of his grip didn’t diminish.
Lungs feeling ready to burst, she jerked one last time against his hold. He didn’t budge. The glimmer of hope faded.
Allye succumbed to the darkness.
“ALLYE. ALLYE!” A voice penetrated the smothering black hole of unconsciousness. Someone gripped her shoulders and gently shook her. “Are you okay?”
Allye groaned, and her throat rebelled against the sound. Pain. The attack. Panic flooded in.
She clawed her way to the light, ready to fight for her life. But rather than cooperating with her brain, her eyelids fluttered, and her body declined to move at all.
“Allye?” The voice came again, and this time she recognized it. Mayor Jennings. Not the attacker.
The edge of her panic eased. She concentrated her efforts on opening her eyes, and this time, they obeyed. Mayor Jennings leaned over her, his face a picture of concern.
“Oh, thank God, you’re awake! Are you in pain?” “Where . . . is he?” She forced the words out, her throat pro- testing every word.
Confusion etched new lines onto the mayor’s forehead. “Who?” “That man.” Allye planted her elbows in the gravel and gathered her strength to rise. Her first attempt was pitiful, and she let her head fall back against the ground. Ouch. She waited a moment and tried again. She was partially successful, and Mayor Jennings assisted her into a full sitting position. She bit back another groan and straightened her glasses as she focused on regulating her breathing. Everything hurt. Especially her throat. She raised a shaky hand to her neck. “The man . . . choking me.” She could hear the hoarseness in her voice, and every syllable scraped pain- fully across her damaged windpipe.
Mayor Jennings sat back on his heels. “There wasn’t anyone else out here.”
“A man came after me. Choked me because I saw—” The man on the ground. Could he still be alive?
She pushed to her feet. Dizziness washed over her, and her purse swung against her body. She clutched at the staircase rail- ing. Instantly, she felt the mayor’s strong hand cupping her elbow.
“Easy, Allye. You had a hard fall.” She shook her head, making the dizziness worse. She squeezed her eyes shut for a count of ten. “I didn’t fall.”
“You didn’t?” His gaze dropped to her knees, and she glanced down. Despite the harsh shadows cast by the light above the landing, she could make out the shredded mess of her leggings. She blinked and thought back.
“Well, I did fall when he was chasing me,” she corrected. “When who was chasing you?” “The man.” And she needed to see if the other person being beaten had survived— though she wasn’t sure how he could have. She shook off the mayor’s hold and stumbled toward the back of the building. He followed, hovering as if he expected her to collapse at any second.
“There was a man— men— back here,” she explained. “One of them was beating another, and the one on the ground wasn’t moving. I’m not sure he was even still alive.” She rounded the corner and stopped short, nearly losing her balance. Mayor Jennings again reached out to steady her. No one was here now. No attacker. No victim.
She spun in a slow circle, even that motion increasing her dizziness. Had she confused the buildings? She crossed the space between structures and peered into the dimly lit area behind the newspaper office. Only an industrial- size dumpster and empty parking spaces met her gaze. That didn’t match. Again she turned. What she’d seen had definitely been behind her building.
“I need to call 911. Maybe they’ll be able to find trace evidence.” “Allye, you need to go home and rest.” The mayor’s voice was gentle, fatherly. “Or get a doctor to check you out. You fell down the steps.”
“I don’t need a doctor, and I didn’t fall—” “I heard your scream from my office.” He took her arm and led her back the way they’d come. “I came outside immediately and found you at the bottom of the stairs. No one else was around.” “But—” They passed by the stairs, and her other bags lay as if she’d dropped them there. She slowed. “I need to get those.” “Let me get you to my car, then I’ll collect them for you.” “My car’s parked out front. I can drive.” “No.” His tone brooked no debate. “You hit your head and passed out. I am not letting you on the road. It wouldn’t be safe. Besides”— he winked at her—“your mother would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
She tried to muster a smile, but the attempt fell flat. Mayor Jennings and her mom had been dating for the past three months, and Allye still hadn’t quite gotten used to it. She had nothing against the man, who’d been Kincaid’s mayor for well over a de- cade and a member of their church for much longer, or against her mom for exploring the possibility of finding love again. It was just new territory.
When they’d lost Allye’s dad during what would have been his last active- duty tour in Afghanistan eighteen years ago, Julie Jessup had stepped into life as a single mom. In all these years, she’d shown little interest in dating— even after she abruptly entered the empty- nest stage when Allye’s younger brother, Derryck, was killed in a car accident at fifteen. No, she’d just thrown herself more fully into her thriving realty career and spent her free time in volunteer work. Or hovering over her remaining two children as much as they let her.
As they reached the sidewalk, the mayor decisively steered them toward the parking lot on the other side of city hall— and away from her Jetta. Allye glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t want to leave her car here and be stranded at home, but . . . the mayor was probably right about her driving. Regardless of how it came about, she had lost consciousness, and her brain still felt fuzzy. And truth be told, she didn’t have the energy to argue any further. She bit back a sigh and allowed him to lead her to his shiny black Mercedes. He insisted on helping her inside before heading back for her bags.
After hitting the locks, she slumped in the leather passenger seat and watched until he disappeared around the corner of the newspaper office. Could he be right? She replayed the moments before everything went dark. Though her memories weren’t as crisp as normal— or what had been normal until the last couple of months— they were solid. Real.
She frowned. No matter what the mayor thought, she hadn’t fallen down the steps. She’d seen someone getting attacked, and the attacker had chased her— choked her.
So where had everyone gone? And why was she still alive? None of it made any sense. But she knew what she’d seen. Felt. There was another victim out there, and the more she thought about it, the less she believed he’d be found alive. And if that was the case . . . she’d witnessed a murder tonight.
Her stomach flipped as the realization sank in. She needed to call the police, and the sooner the better. She dug in her purse for her phone but again failed to find it. She’d have to search her other bags once Mayor Jennings returned. Or just ask to borrow his phone.
When he rejoined her a moment later, she cleared her throat and grimaced at the pain. “I can’t leave until I call the police. I’m almost positive that was a murder in progress, and at the very least, the man attempted to kill me.” She saw the protest on Mayor Jennings’s face, but before he could voice it, she plowed ahead. “I know you think I just fell, but what will it hurt to have them look?” He sighed and rubbed the skin between his eyes. “How about this? I’ll call the police and have them take a look around. But first let me take care of you. The last thing you need is to be stuck out here while we wait for an available officer to arrive and investigate.”
“But they’ll need my statement.” “If they find anything, yes. And they can follow up with you with any questions they have.”
A wave of fatigue washed over her, making it hard to think. Would an extra ten or twenty minutes make a difference at this point? The men were gone, and she doubted they’d return any- time soon. And though she had no intention of admitting it, she needed to lie down. Holding herself upright was taking nearly all the energy she had left.
“Okay.” Satisfied with her one- word acquiescence, the mayor started the engine. “Am I taking you home or to the ER?”
“Home.” The ER wouldn’t do anything for bruises that she couldn’t do just as well herself, and she had enough medical bills and doctor appointments as it was. She wasn’t going to add one she didn’t need.
They pulled onto the road, and the mayor aimed his car toward her house.
“Now, tell me what you think you saw, so I can give the police an accurate description.”
Allye resisted the urge to correct his use of the word think. “I was coming down from my studio and heard what sounded like someone getting hit behind the building. I went to the corner and looked around and saw three men. One was on the ground like he’d fallen, and another was kicking him.” She swallowed. “I think I made a noise because the attacker looked up and saw me. I tried to run, but . . .”
The mayor stopped at a light and turned to look at her. “And?” “He pushed me down.” She blinked. “Or I fell. I don’t remem- ber now. But when I got up, he grabbed me. Held me against the wall and started choking me. I blacked out. Then you were there.” The light changed, and the mayor returned his attention to the road. “You said you think you saw the attack behind the building. Right or left from the alley?” “Right. And I did see it.” He didn’t respond. Tired as she was, Allye couldn’t let the silence ride for long. “How did you find me?”
“I heard you scream and came looking.” “No, I mean how was I positioned? What did you see?” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “When I came around the corner, I saw you face down at the base of the stairs. I turned you over and checked your pulse. Made sure you were breathing.” He wiped his forehead. “You scared me, Allye.”
His concern was comforting, but his statement didn’t make sense. She’d been a couple of yards past the steps when the at- tacker caught up to her. He’d pinned her against the wall, choked her, and . . . what? She had no idea what had happened afterward, but much time couldn’t have passed if the mayor had come look- ing for her when she screamed.
She realized she was holding her throat again. It still hurt, and her voice was becoming weaker the more she talked. Wasn’t that proof of her being attacked?
“I didn’t fall down the steps,” she said quietly. “I passed out because he choked me.”
“Allye”—the mayor sounded weary—“there wasn’t anyone out there with you.”
“Then why is my throat so sore?” Her raspy challenge was pitiful.
“You screamed pretty loud.” He met her eyes for a brief sec- ond before returning his attention to the road. “And that purse you’re carrying looks heavy. When you fell, it could have yanked against your neck.”
She glanced down. She normally carried the bag slung over one shoulder, but the mayor was right. It hung cross- body. She couldn’t remember doing that before leaving her studio. But with the brain fog she’d been fighting the last couple of months, that didn’t mean much. She sighed and lapsed into silence, this time for the rest of the short drive to her duplex.
When they arrived, the mayor insisted on guiding her to the door. She reluctantly agreed, but only because she felt so awful. She unlocked her duplex and allowed him to set her bags just inside.
“Are you feeling up to staying by yourself? I could call your mother for you.”
“No.” Allye forced her aching body straighter. “I’m fine— just sore. Please don’t tell my mom about tonight. I don’t want her to worry.”
The mayor frowned. “If your mom finds out you fell down the steps and I didn’t let her know—”
“She won’t.” Allye forced a grin. “I’m sure not going to tell her, and if we were the only ones there . . .”
His expression didn’t clear. “Okay.” He took her hand. “But only if you promise me you’ll go straight to bed and you’ll be careful on those steps from now on.”
“Deal.” She hadn’t fallen down the stairs, but she would con- tinue to be careful when navigating them.
He patted her hand, then released it and headed for his car. “And, Mayor Jennings?” He turned back to her. “Thank you.” He flashed the smile that had earned him nine- tenths of the vote last election cycle. “I’m always here when you need me.”
Allye closed and locked her door, then limped to a nearby recliner. She hadn’t lied to him exactly. But between the sore- ness and a renewed weight of fatigue, she didn’t have it in her to make it to her bed tonight.
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Author Bio
Angela Carlisle resides in the hills of northern Kentucky and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and The Christian PEN. Angela’s debut novel, Secondary Target, was a Parable Weekly top seller and was included in the Library Journal Stars So Far listing. Angela is an editor by day and prefers to spend her free time reading, baking, and drinking ridiculous quantities of hot tea.
Ruby blinks back tears and gazes across the violet-studded moors from the doorstep of Heather House before she turns and lifts the key. What heart-wrenching secret will she discover in her childhood home?
When Ruby inherits her family’s crumbling old house in the wild English countryside, she is devastated to think it might be sold. Heather House was once an artists’ haven filled with Ruby’s family and their colorful friends. Ruby has always been captivated by the glamorous Clara, a famous pilot whose love story came to a tragic end. Now black-and-white photographs transport her back to World War Two…
With the future of Heather House uncertain, Ruby loses herself in history. But it seems romance is not only a thing of the past when Jake, a jumper-clad American author with silver-flecked hair turns up at her door. Jake is investigating a wartime mystery about Clara, and he soon falls in love with the historic home. But when Clara shows him a view of the moors ablaze under the setting sun, his dark green eyes cause another flame to spark …
Together Ruby and Jake begin to unravel the secret hidden in the past. But can they find a way to save Heather House, or will Ruby be forced to sell it before the truth about Clara is at last unearthed and her new love has a chance to bloom?
MEMORIES OF HEATHER HOUSE (Wildflower Secrets Book #2) by Rebecca Alexander is an emotional dual timeline women’s fiction story featuring generations of strong, independent woman. While this is the second book in this series, the books are connected by their small village location on the moors in the English countryside with minimal character crossover so they each easily stand alone.
Ruby is a genealogist and historian who has inherited the run-down countryside mansion of her childhood when her mother dies of cancer. For many years she just wanted to get away, but now it is her only connection to her matriarchal line of artistically talented women. Once an artists’ haven filled with bohemian characters, now only two of the elderly occupants remain.
With the future of the mansion uncertain, Ruby is also dealing with a handsome American who is researching her family’s famous WWII female ATA (Air Transport Auxiliary) pilot for an American who believes she is also related to the mysterious Clara. As the two work together to dig up Clara’s secrets and try to come up with a solution to save Ruby’s home, they discover not only secrets from the past, but possibly a new love in the present.
This is a wonderful dual timeline story featuring Ruby in the present and Clara during WWII. While Ruby’s story is interesting with its search for Clara and her growing interest in Jake at times, I was frustrated with her always fluctuating in her beliefs that Jake had ulterior motives. It got to be a bit too often and should not have lasted as long as it did in the plotline because it felt repetitive. I was really pulled into the story when it switched to Clara’s WWII story. The WWII research is skillfully slipped into the story without feeling like a data dump. Clara is an amazing and compelling character that lived life to the fullest even in the middle of a terrible war and the tragic ending of her life, which is not a spoiler, was still so sad.
I highly recommend this dual timeline second book in the Wildflower Secrets series and I am anxiously looking forward to the next.
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About the Author
Rebecca Alexander was born in Malta and grew up on the south coast of England, becoming a psychologist. She escaped parenting six children to study writing in 2011, and the Secrets series of novels was published in 2013. A Baby’s Bones and sequel followed. Rebecca lives in a haunted 300-year-old cottage in Devon where she grows fruit, paints, and bakes. She reads and writes all sorts of genres, from women’s fiction to fantasy to crime. She is married with four chickens, two grandchildren and a cat.
Leona Griffin is at the height of her career as a para-archeologist thanks to a recent Underworld discovery. Her high profile attracts the attention of an organization of elite, secretive collectors. They want her to authenticate the artifacts that aspiring members submit as evidence to join their group. The ceremony takes place at a glittering reception where Leona is shocked to discover that one of the relics is a powerful Old-World object known as Pandora’s Box. But she’s not the only one interested in that artifact.
Oliver Rancourt, a man with a unique talent—they say you never see him coming—is also there. Leona knows she must not underestimate him. Attempting to make a discreet exit, she stumbles over the body of a waiter wearing the emblem of a dangerous cult. Before she can alert authorities, a police raid sends the reception into chaos. To avoid being arrested, Leona slips away with Oliver—a risky decision that gets her fired.
Now forced to work together, Leona and Oliver pursue an investigation that leads them to the town of Lost Creek where the locals are obsessed with a chilling legend involving a long-dead cult leader and illicit paranormal experiments. But Leona knows the real danger may be the irresistible attraction between herself and Oliver.
IT TAKES A PSYCHIC (Ghost Hunter Book #17) by Jayne Castle is another exciting and fun addition to the Ghost Hunter series. All these books can be read as standalone paranormal romances, but this one does tie back to People in Glass Houses, Book #16 with the heroines of both stories being sisters.
Para-archeologist Leona Griffin is still riding the wave of her celebrity from her recent discoveries in the Underworld when she is asked to authenticate items at a meeting for membership in a secretive organization. From the moment she arrives, she has a bad feeling about this group, especially when the final object for her to authenticate is the infamous Old World object Pandora’s Box.
Oliver Rancourt is also at the meeting and has an interest in Pandora’s Box. While the other attendees all seem to ignore him, Leona not only sees him, but feels he is watching her. And she is right. Oliver has a unique ability to blend in and seem to disappear, which is perfect for retrieving his stolen property, but Leona’s ability to see him has intrigued him.
When Leona tries to make a discrete exit, she discovers a dead server wearing the symbol of a dangerous cult around her neck. Before she can alert anyone, a police raid occurs. Oliver shows up at her side and rather than be arrested, they slip away. Oliver has Pandora’s Box, which he tells Leona was stolen from him and when they open it, it has, in addition to its original contents, a strange golden pyramid inside.
Leona and Oliver work together to uncover secrets about the long dead cult leader and the illegal paranormal experiments. The attraction grows between the two, but they are both hiding secrets about their psychic profiles. The answer to questions about Leona and her sister’s past may be within reach, but can Oliver and Leona stay alive to find them.
I wait anxiously for each new installment in this long running series. Not only for a fun, intriguing new pair of romantic protagonists, but also for the new dustbunny. Roxy and her blue fascinator did not disappoint. There was a good amount of heat and chemistry between Leona and Oliver that grew believably over the course of the story, and even though there is sexual intercourse, it is a smaller part of this story than in other books in this series. These books are always a great mash-up of paranormal romance, mystery, and adventure in Harmony.
I highly recommend this addition to the series and would recommend the entire series to anyone. Long live dustbunnies!
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About the Author
Jayne Castle, the author of Guild Boss, Illusion Town, Siren’s Call, The Hot Zone, Deception Cove, The Lost Night, Canyons of Night, Midnight Crystal, Obsidian Prey, Dark Light, Silver Master, Ghost Hunter, After Glow, and After Dark, is a pseudonym for Jayne Ann Krentz, the author of more than fifty New York Times bestsellers. She writes contemporary romantic suspense novels under the Krentz name, as well as historical novels under the pseudonym Amanda Quick.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for ECHOES ON THE WIND (Maggie O’Shea Romantic Suspense Book #4) by Helaine Mario on this Partner 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 Kingsumo giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
TWO STRONG WOMEN, GENERATIONS APART, CONNECTED BY MUSIC…
In 1943 war-torn France, a young woman on the Night Train to Paris has a chance meeting with two very different men who will change her life, setting in motion a Dual Timeline story that will resonate like ripples on water for generations to come.
Many years later, classical pianist Maggie O’Shea is drawn to Brittany by a long-lost letter from her French grandmother and the stirring music of Chopin, whispering like echoes across the years. But as Maggie discovers the secrets of her past, her life spirals out of control, threatening her upcoming wedding and those she loves.
Set against the backdrop of World War II France, Maggie learns her grandmother’s story, chord by chord, through Chopin’s emotional Preludes. And, in one shocking moment, Maggie’s love story will take a heart-breaking turn that will change her life and echo into her future.
Past and present converge in this haunting tale of loss and sacrifice, friendship and family, courage and survival – and the transcendent power of hope, music and love.
Genre: Romantic Suspense Published by: Suncoast Publishing Publication Date: June 18, 2024 Number of Pages: 364 ISBN: 9781735184975 (ISBN10: 1735184977) Series: A Maggie O’Shea Romantic Suspense, Book 4
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My Mini Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
ECHOES ON THE WIND (Maggie O’Shea Romantic Suspense Book #4) by Helaine Mario is the exciting finale of the Maggie O’Shea series. This story has a dual timeline featuring Maggie in the present and her French grandmother during WWII. I have been waiting for this culmination of love vs. vengeance anxiously and was not disappointed. These books should be read in order because there are over-arching threads throughout the series with Maggie and the other main characters continually evolving.
WOW! I could not put this book down. Not only do you get Maggie in a final showdown ending, but you get the survival story of her grandmother Clair, who was in the French Resistance during WWII written in dual timelines with alternating chapters. The main characters are all fully developed, more so if you have read the entire series, and I feel like they could walk right off the page. This is an extremely emotional book in both timelines, but as in the entire series, family, love, and music, carry the main characters through the worst that is thrown at them.
All the books are intriguing, pull you in, and are worth reading. This series also had me continually listening to the classical music pieces mentioned throughout that Maggie practiced for her concerts, which was a fun reminder of my trips to the Cleveland orchestra when I was younger.
I highly recommend this harrowing romantic suspense/WWII historical fiction mash-up and the entire engaging series!
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Excerpt
OVERTURE
“Like so many things that matter, it began with an accident.” David Ignatius, 12/28/98
NOVEMBER, 1943. THE NIGHT TRAIN TO PARIS
Light and dark.
The bleak November landscape rushed past the train’s window. Black tree branches against the dark night sky, then a sudden flash of light. Then blackness again.
The blackout had claimed the streetlamps and cottage windows. Clair Rousseau stared out the rain-streaked glass, waiting for the next glimpse of light. A lone lantern. Car headlights tilted down, a sliver of gold beyond a cracked curtain. Sheet lightning over distant hills, a glimmer of light on water. But all she saw was the blurred, pale oval of her reflection staring back at her. Dark hair scraped back, framing huge eyes beneath winged brows, sharp cheekbones, the too-wide mouth.
No hint of the emotions flowing through her, except for the deep purple shadows beneath her eyes.
The dim, four-person compartment was cold, and she pulled her coat more tightly around her body. The seat beside her was still empty, thank God. Across from her, two German officers. One asleep, snoring loudly, his hands slack between thick gray-green uniformed knees. The other awake, a Gauloises cigarette clamped between thin lips, a jagged line of white scars marring his left cheek. The narrow fox-like face stared at her through thick round glasses and wreathes of curling blue smoke. His jacket was heavy with insignia, oak leaves, medals. Military Intelligence, she thought with a sudden chill. A high rank, SD or Abwehr. What was he thinking?
The watchful, unblinking eyes made her afraid. Like a snake’s eyes, waiting to strike. She looked away, forcing herself not to reach for her satchel, touch her identity papers for reassurance.
The carriage’s glassed door slid back and forth with an unnerving rattle as the train rocked around a bend. From the hallway came the sharp scent of burning coal, wafting back from the old steam engine several cars ahead. A cloud of steam billowed past the window like sudden fog.
She could feel the vibration beneath her, hear the rumble of the train’s wheels speeding along the tracks. The lonely call of a train whistle, echoing in the night. A quick flare of light, illuminating the rain like silver threads streaming down the window.
Light and dark. Light and dark.
Movement at the edge of her vision. A tall figure appeared in the hallway, beyond the door. Her chest tightened. Would she ever feel safe again?
A sharp crack of thunder, a sudden bright flash lighting her face.
“Mademoiselle Clair?”
Startled, her head came up. The stranger had stopped, was staring into the compartment. Across from her, the watchful German stiffened and slid pale eyes toward the voice.
Be careful.
There was something familiar about the gaunt face, the faint, questioning smile just visible above a thick woolen scarf. She stood quickly, stepping between the German and the carriage door to block the officer’s view.
“Oui,” she said softly, peering into the dim hallway. The man nodded and moved closer. Something about those gentle eyes, the arch of silver brows. Memory surged. Father Jean-Luc.
She flashed him a warning glance for silence and stepped into the train’s narrow corridor, closing the door firmly behind her. “Mon Père, is it really you?”
“Oui, ma petite, c’est moi.” The priest pulled the scarf down to offer a glimpse of his white Roman collar, then lost his smile as he gazed over her shoulder and saw the Germans. “But we cannot talk here. Come with me.”
He slipped a hand beneath her elbow and guided her to the end of the dark passageway, where an open exit door led across shifting metal plates to the train’s next car. She felt the sudden bite of night wind on her face, cold and wet with mist. Here the clatter of the train wheels was loud enough to hide their conversation.
They sheltered just inside the doorway, in the shadows, away from the rain. Outside, the countryside of France rushed by, then disappeared in a billow of black smoke. In the dim corridor, the planes of the priest’s face were lit by a tiny, flickering overhead bulb.
Light and dark. Light and dark.
The priest looked down at her, shook his head. “Little Clair Rousseau,” he murmured. “Now such a beautiful young woman. It’s been – what? – four years since we met? You were just thirteen, I think. Playing the piano in your parents’ apartment. Bach, yes? It was so beautiful, so stirring. I hope you are still playing?”
She shook her head. “You need hope to create music, Père.” She looked back toward her carriage compartment. The hallway was empty. “But I remember that day. The war was coming. You asked us to help you remove the stained-glass windows from Sainte-Chapelle. To save them from the bombing.”
“You were fearless, Clair. I remember watching you, swaying at the top of that impossibly high ladder. The morning light was coming through the stained glass, spilling over you like shimmering jewels. I’ll never forget it. I told myself, Clair means light, she is perfectly named.”
He leaned down. “And I can still see your sister, Elle – too young to help us, biensûr – dancing around the altar.”
Her expression softened. “Elle loved to dance. It was the last happy day I can remember.” She lifted her eyes to his, took a breath. “Paris was another lifetime, Père.”
“You cannot lose hope,” he told her. “The glass pieces are in a safe place. Beauty and goodness cannot be destroyed. You will see the stained-glass windows back in Sainte-Chapelle when the war is over. I know it.”
She shook her head. “I wish I had your faith.”
“God has his plans. There is a reason we’ve met by chance on the night train to Paris.” Concern flashed in his eyes. “But you’ve been in Brittany? Dangerous times for a young woman to be traveling alone, Clair.”
She looked out at the black trees rushing past the doorway, and felt the blackness deep in her heart. “I am alone now, Père.”
“Mon Dieu. What happened?”
“My father knew that war was inevitable. Not long after we saved the glass my parents moved us from Paris to the coast near Saint-Malo to be safe. Such irony. They had no idea how dangerous Brittany would become. And then…”
She could not stop the sudden rush of tears that filled her eyes. “The Gestapo shot my father last year, in a retaliation roundup for an act of sabotage by the Resistance. He was with the Liberty Network, they had bombed a train track. He stepped forward, admitted it, hoping to save the others. But still they took thirty innocent people from our village, murdered them in the square.”
“Oh no, Clair.” The priest made a quick sign of the cross. “I am so sorry. And your mother, your sister?”
“I don’t know, Père. I was studying in Paris, I begged them to come stay with me. But Maman refused. When I returned last month to see them, the house was empty. They were just… gone. The neighbors said the Germans took them, in the night. The mayor was told they were being relocated to Poland.”
The priest paled. “Désolé. I will pray for their souls.”
Anger erupted, spilled out. “Prayers did not help my family! I have no time for prayer now. Or sorrow. Even avenging my father will have to wait. I need all my energy now to find my mother and my sister.”
He bent toward her. “I am afraid you are still too fearless for your own good. Tell me what you’re doing, little one.”
She turned once more to scan the dark hallway, then leaned closer. “I excelled in languages in my lycée studies these last years,” she whispered. “I am fluent in several languages, including German and English. I hope to find a new job, in the Hotel Majestic in Paris, where the German High Command is quartered. Then I will join the Resistance, find a way to get news of Maman and Elle. I must find them!”
He gazed down at her for a long moment, then put a hand on her shoulder.
“Perhaps I know of another way,” he murmured.
The sound of a door opening. Wavering shadows spilled into the train’s corridor. Then the red glow of a cigarette, a spiral of smoke. She froze as the German officer turned toward them.
“Find me at Èglise Saint-Gervais, in the Marais,” the priest whispered quickly. “I am with the Resistance there. You could work with me, we need someone like you to –”
A sudden terrifying screech of metal wheels. Clair felt herself thrown to the floor as the train braked, slammed to a shuddering stop. Stunned, Clair reached out, felt the still body of the priest beside her. “Mon Père…”
Shouts in German in the darkness, the clatter of heavy boots. When she raised her head she saw flashing blue lights against the night sky.
Light and dark. Light and dark.
Copyright June 2020
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Author Bio
Best-selling author Helaine Mario grew up in NYC and is a graduate of Boston University. Now living in Arlington, VA, this mother of two, grandmother of five, and passionate advocate for women’s and children’s issues came to writing later in life. Her first novel, The Lost Concerto, won the Benjamin Franklin Award Silver Medal. Echoes on the Wind is her fifth novel and the fourth in her Maggie O’Shea Classical Music Suspense Series. Royalties from her books go to children’s music and reading programs. Helaine recently lost her husband, Ron, after 57 years together. Her new book echoes with loss, grief, and, ultimately, the healing power of love.
