The Locard Institute is a state-of-the-art forensic research center where experts from around the world come together to confront and solve the world’s most challenging and perplexing crimes. When Dr. Ellie Carr arrives for her first day as an instructor at the prestigious facility, the buildings glimmer amid the brilliant fall foliage on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay. But within hours a colleague, Dr. Barbara Wright, is found dead on the floor of a supply closet. Her death appears to be an accident—but Ellie and her new supervisor, Dr. Rachael Davies, suspect a more sinister explanation.
A young woman attending a professional training program then disappears, only to be found in a gruesome tableau. Other than their link to the Institute, there seems to be no connection between the student and Dr. Wright. Although forensic traces are elusive, Ellie and Rachael are determined to find the bizarre link between the violent and diverse deaths.
As reporters shatter the privacy of Ellie’s new workplace, she searches old files and finds evidence of a crime that feels much too personal. But who, among those dedicated to justice, could be the threat? No matter how skilled she and Rachael may be in uncovering the truth, they may not be able to prevent a well-schooled killer from striking again.
WHAT HARMS YOU (Locard Institute Thriller Book #2) by Lisa Black is a gripping forensic crime thriller and the second book in the Locard Institute Thriller series featuring two dynamic female forensic experts. Even though this is the second book in this series, it can easily be read as a standalone.
Dr. Ellie Carr has arrived for her first day teaching at the prestigious Locard Institute on the Chesapeake Bay and within hours the teacher she is replacing is found dead. What appears to be a terrible accident leaves Ellie and her new supervisor, Dr. Rachel Davies, unsettled. As they investigate their colleague’s death, a female Suadi national attending the professional training program goes missing and is soon discovered dead.
Ellie and Rachel must now work to discover if there is a link between the two diverse deaths among the professional law enforcement agents attending this training program and discover who is responsible before he or she strikes again.
I love when I get to read a new Lisa Black thriller and learn more about forensic techniques besides watching her main characters put them to use in solving crimes. This story introduces the reader to the halls of the Locard Institute, right along with Ellie and where the crimes take place. I enjoyed the interactions between Ellie and Rachel who, while at different phases of their careers, still work well as colleagues and recognize each other’s strengths. The murders and mysterious killer keep the tension high and the reader on the edge of their seat. The scientific analysis Ellie and Rachel use for solving crimes as well as teaching their program attendees is woven throughout the plotline without slowing the pace and I always find highly interesting.
I highly recommend this exciting crime thriller in this series and all the forensic thrillers by this author.
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About the Author
Lisa Black’s books have reached the NYT bestsellers list, been translated into six languages and have been optioned for film. Perish was shortlisted for the inaugural Sue Grafton Memorial Award by Putnam and Mystery Writers of America. Lisa will be a Guest of Honor at 2021 Killer Nashville.
She is a certified crime scene analyst in Florida and a former forensic scientist for the Cleveland coroner’s office. She is a member of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences, the International Association for Identification, and the International Association of Bloodstain Pattern Analysts, and has testified in more than fifty homicide trials.
She still aspires to drive Nancy Drew’s convertible and marry Ellery Queen.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for FACING THE ENEMY by DiAnn Mills on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a Kingsumo giveaway, Enjoy!
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Book Description
For the past five years, FBI Special Agent Risa Jacobs has worked in the violent crimes against children division of the Houston FBI. She’s never had reason to believe there’s a target on her back . . . until now.
When the long-awaited reunion between Risa and her brother, Trenton, ends in tragedy, Risa is riddled with guilt, unable to cope with the responsibility she feels over his death. On leave from the FBI, Risa returns to her former career as an English teacher at a local college, only to see her past and present collide when one of her students, Carson Mercury, turns in an assignment that reads like an eyewitness account of her brother’s murder, with details never revealed publicly.
Alarmed by Carson’s inside knowledge of Trenton’s death, Risa reaches out to her former partner at the FBI. Special Agent Gage Patterson has been working a string of baby kidnappings, but he agrees to help look into Carson’s background. Risa and Gage soon discover their cases might be connected as a string of high-value thefts have occurred at properties where security systems were installed by Carson’s stepfather and children have gone missing. There’s a far more sinister plot at play than they ever imagined, and innocent lives are in danger.
Genre: Christian Romantic Suspense Published by: Tyndale House Publishers Publication Date: September 2023 Number of Pages: 352 ISBN: 9781496451941 (ISBN10: 1496451945)
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
FACING THE ENEMY by DiAnn Mills is an intriguing and fast paced Christian romantic suspense/FBI crime mystery featuring an FBI Special agent determined to get justice for her murdered brother and her FBI Special agent partner determined to help even when pushed away. The emotional crime investigations and budding romance pulled me in and kept me reading.
FBI Special Agent Risa Jacobs’s brother, Trenton, who has been in rehab wishes to go to dinner with her to make amends after years of drug abuse and breaking the law. On the walk after dinner to Risa’s apartment, Trenton saves Risa’s life at the cost of his own from a hit and run driver. She is overcome with guilt when she discovers she was the target. Everyone in her personal circle is threatened unless she resigns from the FBI.
On a secret leave from the FBI, Risa uncovers information which may tie Trenton’s death to a theft and baby kidnapping ring being worked by her ex-partner, FBI Special Agent Gage Patterson. They begin to work together again and as their personal feelings grow and are exposed, they discover there is a far more sinister plot at play and innocent lives are at stake.
I felt the personal journey of forgiveness Risa goes through in this story was very well written and believable. The romantic subplot between Risa and Gage was well paced throughout the story and I the found the religious based discussions did not detract. They are a heroine and hero that complement each other in temperament, beliefs, and chemistry. The crime mystery is intricately plotted with plenty of twists and surprises. I did feel though there was a suspension of belief in the plot with the FBI allowing Risa to work in secret as she did. If I overlooked that, this Christian romantic suspense is highly engaging and entertaining.
I can recommend curling up with this Christian romantic suspense/FBI crime mystery for an exciting read.
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Excerpt
Chapter 1
Houston, Texas
July 29
Risa
Twelve years ago, my younger brother fell into an abyss of drugs and alcohol. He chose his addictions over Mom and Dad—and me. Prayers for healing fell flat, but none of us gave up, proving our belief in unconditional love. Then yesterday he called, and my hopes skyrocketed. Trenton said he missed me and wanted to make amends with his family, beginning with his older sis. We chose to meet at a popular restaurant for a late dinner within walking distance of my apartment.
A knock on my cubicle jolted me back to reality. Gage, my work partner, towered in the entryway and grinned. “Hey, what’s going on?”
The sound of his voice caused me to tingle to my toes. “Thinking.”
“Obviously, you were a million miles away.” His blue-gray eyes bore into mine, the intensity nearly distracting me.
I leaned back in my comfy, ergonomic chair. “My brother called.”
“Trenton? The guy you haven’t seen in years?”
“The same.”
“And?”
“He wants to meet tonight for dinner, to talk about making amends.”
Gage shook his head. “Risa, he has a record a mile long. He’s planning on manipulating you, squeezing every penny he can get.”
I picked up an old photo of Trenton and me as kids. Dad had snapped it while we were in our tree house. I swiped at a piece of dust, then replaced it beside my photo of Mom and Dad. “I must give him a chance. He’s my brother.”
“What if he’s gotten himself in over his head and needs his FBI agent sis to bail him out?”
I bit into my lower lip. Gage’s words had a level of truth, even if I didn’t want to admit it. “I want to hear him out.”
Gage stepped closer. “I don’t want to see you hurt. Remember three years ago when he called you from a bar demanding money, cursed you until you hung up?” The soft gentleness in his whispered tone said more than friend to friend. “Think about canceling the dinner or let me go with you.”
Emotion rose thick in my throat. “You mean well, and I—” Catching myself, I nearly said love. “I appreciate your concern. But I’ll be fine. Want me to call you afterward?”
He nodded. “I can run by if you need to talk.”
I peered into the face of the man I adored. “I will. Promise.”
#
I arrived early at the restaurant to meet Trenton, anticipating his contagious smile perfected by an overpaid orthodontist. The phone attempted to keep my attention, but my mind swirled with how I wanted tonight to move forward against the reality of what had happened in the past.
The host approached me. Trenton walked behind him, towering several inches above the short man. I held my breath and stood, not feeling my legs, only my pulse speeding at the sight of my brother.
Trenton chuckled low, the familiar, dazzling, heart-crunching expression that had always touched me with sibling love. Clear brown eyes captured mine. Gone were the dilated pupils and bone-thin body. My brother held out his buff arms, and I rushed into them.
“Risa, you look amazing,” he whispered. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Nothing could have kept me away.” I stepped back, noting the miracle before me. Telling Mom and Dad wasn’t a part of tonight’s plan, but I wished they were here. We’d all be blubbering. I swiped at a tear and feared a humiliating sob would replace my already-fragile composure. “I want to remember this moment forever.” Please stay strong this time.
“Me too, Sis.” He gestured to the booth. “Sit, and let’s talk and eat.”
I slid in and he took the opposite side of the table. A server presented us with menus and asked for our drink order.
“We’ll have two Dr Peppers,” Trenton said.
He remembered my favorite drink. No mention of alcohol. I breathed in deeply to steady myself. I wanted our reunion to be special, not me a weeping mess. “I’ve missed you.”
Trenton cocked his head, and the mischievous brother from days gone by appeared. “I’ve been clean for four months. Working steady and enrolled in night school for the next college term.” He took my hands, and his features grew serious. “But before I say another word, I’m sorry. I promise you, I’ll never hurt you, Mom, or Dad again. Please forgive me for the mess I made of my life and dragging my family through the stench of it.”
I’d heard this before, from his teen years into his twenties. Dare I believe our prayers had been answered? “I forgave you years ago. All we ever wanted for you is a healthy body and mind.”
“Thanks, Sis. I know you’ve heard this ‘I’m sorry’ junk before, but I’m well on my way.”
His words warmed me like a quilt on a chilly night. “I can see it, feel it. Why tell me first instead of Mom and Dad?”
“Great times with you growing up that never left me.”
Memories rushed over me . . . The time we went camping by ourselves and it snowed. Birthdays. Christmases. All the treasured times I believed had vanished into the chasm of addiction.
The server returned with our drinks, and Trenton released my hands.
“Have you decided on your order?” the server said.
Neither of us had picked up our menus, but I often frequented the restaurant and ordered a vegan dish. Trenton opted for their pork chop and fixings.
“And I’ll take the bill.” He pointed at me. “No arguments.”
“My treat when we have dinner again.”
“Got it.”
“You were about to tell me something about us.”
He rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Two things stand out. The first one happened when I was four, so that made you ten. You were watching me trying to climb an oak tree in the back yard. I was crying because my short legs couldn’t swing high enough. Then I felt your hand on my shoulder. You boosted me up onto the branch. Climbed up with me. No long after that, Dad built us a tree house.”
“I loved that tree house. You had your space and I had mine.”
“What I’ll always remember is what you said to me. ‘Trenton, I’m your big sis. I’ll always help you. I promise.’”
I blinked back the ocean of hopeful tears. “Thanks. I remember our times in the tree house, our private little world.”
“One more reason I contacted you. I was six and you were twelve. For three summers, Mom and Dad put me in swimming lessons, but I couldn’t put my head underwater. Not sure why. You convinced Mom and Dad that you could teach me how to swim. So every day we went to the neighborhood pool, and at the end of two weeks, I was swimming. I trusted you.”
I took a deep breath. Be aware of manipulation, Risa. “Thanks.” I raised a finger. “I remember being a high school junior and this jerk of a guy followed me home. Wouldn’t leave me alone. You punched him in the nose.”
Trenton laughed. “My voice hadn’t changed yet, but I wasn’t going to let him bother you.”
“That’s love, Brother.” Oh, Trenton, let this be for keeps. I’m afraid to believe the nightmare is over.
“And we’ll make many more crazy times together. Do you have plans for Saturday morning? I volunteer at a community center for kids at risk. We have a mixed basketball team, and I could use some help with the girls.”
I shivered. What a blessing to have my brother back. “All I need is a time and place.”
“You never fail me, Sis.” He took a long drink of his Dr Pepper. “Are you writing?”
I grinned. “Dabbling here and there.”
“I never understood why you left a safe job as a college prof and writer to the dangers of the FBI?” He shrugged. “Other than your wild side that you kept more in check than I did.”
“Teaching and writing short stories with a few successful publications failed to fill my adventure deficit. Every time I read about a crime, I wanted to be the one working the case. Dad said I couldn’t create a crime and solve it—I had to be actively involved.”
“Your personality better fits law enforcement. Still married to the FBI?”
I wiggled my shoulders. “Of course. Five years ago, I moved to the Violent Crime Division, specifically Crimes Against Children. It’s stressful and emotional, but protecting children suits me.”
He frowned. “Because of me?”
I blinked. “A little. My main reason is what happened to the little girl who lived across the street from us.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry her death still bothers you. Isn’t there a special team for finding missing kids?”
“Child Abduction Rapid Deployment or CARD. They’re an elite, specialized team, and that’s all they do. That’s not my role, but we often work together.”
“What do you investigate?” Trenton seemed interested in my job, another first.
“My partner and I investigate kidnappings, pedophiles, pornography, online predators, human trafficking, involuntary servitude, parental kidnapping, and any other situation that fell into the ‘violent crimes against children’ bucket.”
“I remember you were the neighborhood babysitter.” He gave me his unforgettable impish grin. “And I also remember how much fun you had learning how to handle a car at high speeds.”
I couldn’t conceal my laughter. “Guess I’m part daredevil. Blame Dad for that. I remember loving to watch him race cars.”
“He’d still be at it if Mom hadn’t insisted his speed-loving days were over.”
“When he taught me to drive, I learned a lot of tricks,” I said.
“He already knew I was danger on wheels and asked Mom to teach me.” He laughed. “Any potential brothers-in-law?”
I waved off his remark. My thoughts swept to Gage. Maybe I had found him, but that was a future conversation. “Nope. My job scares them off. I had more dates during my stint as a dull college professor.”
“You dull? Never. You just haven’t found the right guy. Pray about it, and if there’s a guy good enough for my sis, he’ll appear.”
I startled. “Did you say pray?”
“Think about it. Who but God could have turned me around? Helped me walk away from drugs, alcohol, and so-called friends?”
Even in his good days, Trenton had steered away from mentions of faith. Maybe he had changed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s a first.” He chuckled. “You always had more words in one day than I had in a week. But honestly, no more jail. No more being tossed out of an apartment because I couldn’t pay the rent. No more waking up and not remembering the night before.”
Wow. A true miracle. I swiped at happy tears. “I can’t wait to tell Mom and Dad.”
He leaned over the table as though to tell me a secret. “I’ll do the honors very soon.”
When our food arrived, he asked to say grace. I was so glad our eyes were closed, or he’d have seen a leaky faucet. We chatted through dinner. Laughed about some of the goofy things we’d done as kids. Time seemingly stopped, and my half-full cup of blessings spilled over with joy.
“Will you tell me about your healing journey?” I said.
“You can hear for yourself when I talk to Mom and Dad.” He moistened his lips. “Do you trust me enough to walk you back to your apartment and call them from there? I mean, does your building have a lobby area with a little privacy?”
“It does, but you can call from my apartment. Trenton, they will be incredibly happy.”
“I hope so.”
I was so focused on our conversation that I didn’t think I tasted my favorite dish. We finished and he paid the bill. Outside the restaurant, a few people mingled, and the night sky hosted a half-moon, alerting me to how long Trenton and I had talked. I breathed in thankfulness and expectations for a positive tomorrow. At the crosswalk, we waited for the pedestrian sign to signal our turn.
“How long have you lived in this fancy high-rise?” he said as we ambled across the street.
“Two years. I like the busyness and excitement.”
“It must be in your DNA. One day, I want a small place in the country where it’s quiet.”
“Never for me. I’ll visit you though.” The humid heat mixed with exhaust fumes spiraled around us. “What are you taking in college?”
“Psychology. See if I can’t help a few kids understand life and avoid pitfalls.”
“Incredible. I’m so pro—”
Trenton grabbed my shoulders and thrust me several feet ahead next to the curb. I landed on my side and rolled over. What—?
A horrible thud.
A woman screamed.
Tires squealed.
Horns blew.
Stinging pain radiated up my leg, side, arm, and head. In agony, I managed to roll over and glance at the street.
My brother’s body lay in the intersection, a twisted mass of flesh and blood.
***
Author Bio
DiAnn Mills is a bestselling author who believes her readers should expect an adventure. She is a storyteller and creates action-packed, suspense-filled novels to thrill readers. DiAnn believes every breath of life is someone’s story, so why not capture those moments and create a thrilling adventure?
Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists; won two Christy Awards; and been finalists for the RITA, Daphne Du Maurier, Inspirational Readers’ Choice, and Carol award contests.
DiAnn is a founding board member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, a member of Advanced Writers and Speakers Association, Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers, Jerry Jennings Writers Guild, Mystery Writers of America, and International Thriller Writers. She speaks to various groups and teaches writing workshops around the country.
DiAnn has been termed a coffee snob and roasts her own coffee beans. She’s an avid reader, loves to cook, and believes her grandchildren are the smartest kids in the universe. She and her husband live in sunny Houston, Texas.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE VENGEANCE OF SMAUEL VAL (Project 613 Series Book #2) by Elyse Hoffman on this Black Coffee 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
Samuel Val is blessed with a loving family and a tight-knit community in his Jewish village of Khruvina. He dreams of becoming Khruvina’s Rabbi, but his dreams are crushed when his family is slaughtered by Nazi Officer Viktor Naden, the Beast of Belorussia.
With Samuel left as Khruvina’s only survivor, he joins the anti-Nazi resistance group known as the Black Foxes. Determined to avenge his family, he swears to hunt down and destroy Viktor Naden. Samuel’s mission of vengeance, however, is put on hold when he is forced to escort a Jewish refugee to a safehouse operated by Black Fox Ten, a high-ranked member of the resistance.
While on his mission to save a life, Samuel discovers that the Beast of Belorussia might be closer than he thought. All at once, Samuel is given the chance to destroy Viktor Naden…but the cost will be high.
Will Samuel sell his soul for vengeance?
Award-winning author Elyse Hoffman offers a heart-breaking and thought-provoking WW2 story.
THE VENGEANCE OF SAMUEL VAL (Project 613 Series Book #2) by Elyse Hoffman is a powerful WWII historical fiction novella that may be short but packs an emotional punch. This novella features a young man who lives to avenge his family against the SS Beast of Belorussia. This story is a novella that is a bridge between the first book, Fracture, and the yet to be published third book, Black Fox One. It is easily read as a standalone, but it does carryover a main character from the first book.
Samuel Val loves his family and community and dreams of becoming a rabbi in the Jewish village of Khruvina in Russia. Then the Nazis, led by the SS Officer Viktor Naden roll into the village on the sabbath, nail the temple doors shut and burn the community, including all of Samuel’s family. When he attempts to save his family members, he is shot, left for dead, but ultimately the only person in his village to survive.
Determined to avenge his family, he becomes a member of the resistance group known as the Black Foxes. As he is escorting a Jewish man to safety, he discovers the home of the Beast and must decide if vengeance for his family is worth his soul.
I loved the brilliant concept of this novella that takes you on a young man’s emotional and spiritual journey in just 110 pages. Amos, the escaping Jew is carried over from book one and is used as the opposing voice to the blind vengeance Samuel is determined to carry out. The back-and-forth moral debate is beautifully executed between Amos and Samuel, not only for the discussion of redemption vs. repentance, but also because you can understand both sides represented in the arguments. Ms. Hoffman’s writing paints a picture of this time and place in history while also being lyrical and informative at the same time. I cannot reveal Samuel’s ultimate decision, you will have to read the novella to find out for yourself. I am anxiously looking forward to the next book in this series.
I highly recommend this WWII historical fiction novella!
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About the Author
Elyse Hoffman is an award-winning author who strives to tell historical tales with new twists. She loves to meld WWII and Jewish history with fantasy, folklore, and the paranormal. She has written six works of Holocaust historical fiction: the five books of The Barracks of the Holocaust and The Book of Uriel.
FLIRTING WITH FIRE (Modern Love Book #3) by Jane Porter is an engaging and delightful mature contemporary romance and the third story in the Modern Love trilogy. All the books in this trilogy can easily be read as standalones because there are few crossover scenes of the female friends this trilogy is centered around.
Margot Hughes is back in her hometown after twenty-five years of pursuing her Broadway dream. After a failed eleven-year relationship, she believes her dream life as a wife and mother has passed her by. Working for her friend, Sally, in her property development company, Margot is content until Sally pushes her back into the theater world when she is needed to save the summer community theater production.
Max Russo has worked hard for twenty years to become the famous star he is today. After growing up in a dysfunctional family and having two failed marriages, he has sworn off marriage. Sally was the one person who helped him and believed in him during his childhood, so he is willing to help her by starring in her summer community theater production opposite Margot Hughes. The attraction and chemistry are immediate. Max wants a relationship, but Margot has been down this road before and her and Max’s future wants are very different.
Can Margot sacrifice what she wants for her future again or is she better off alone?
I absolutely love Max and Margot. This contemporary romance has two mature people communicating and being honest with each other even when it hurts. Both Max and Margot change emotionally throughout this romance personally without trying to change the other. I fell right into the story with the realistic characters, beautiful descriptions of the California coastal towns, and believable dialogue. The sex scenes are explicit and smokin’ hot, but not gratuitous. This plot contains not only a beautiful romance, but also several real-life issues that can crop up during anyone’s life journey.
I love the Modern Love trilogy stories, the heroines’ friendships and support, and the varied mature contemporary romances Ms. Porter has written in each. I highly recommend these three romances: Flirting with Fifty, Flirting with the Beast and Flirting with Fire!
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About the Author
USA Today, and New York Times bestselling author of 65 romances and women’s fiction titles, Jane Porter has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award six times, with her Tule Publishing novella, Take Me, Cowboy, winning the Novella Category July 2014. Today, Jane has over 15 million copies in print, including her wildly popular Flirting with Forty, a novel picked by Redbook Magazine as it’s Red Hot Summer Read in 2006 before being turned into a Lifetime movie in 2008 starring Heather Locklear.
Jane holds an MA in Writing from the University of San Francisco and makes her home in sunny San Clemente, CA with her surfer husband three sons, and two dogs. You can learn more about Jane at janeporter.com.
THE AUSCHWITZ DETECTIVE (Adam Lapid Mysteries Book #6) by Johnathan Dunsky is a historical fiction/crime mystery set in 1944 in Auschwitz. The mystery features former Hungarian police detective Adam Lapid while he is in the death camp and coerced into solving the murder of a young inmate. There are five previous books in this series, but this one is a prequel to his life as a P.I. in Israel after the war and is very raw and candid in its depiction of life in Auschwitz. This book is easily read as a standalone story.
Transported to Auschwitz in 1944, Hungarian police detective Adam Lapid loses his entire family to the gas chambers and is struggling to find a reason to go on. When a young man is found murdered, not by the guards in the camp, Adam is ordered to find the killer in three days or lose his own life.
This book is such a difficult book to read with the descriptive depravity laid bare that is usually somewhat glossed over in other WWII stories when they discuss life in the death camps. That said, there are small depictions of humanity and friendship intertwined throughout the story as well as an engrossing murder mystery. The research involved and carried over to the writing of this story is evident.
After reading this story, I am going to move on to book one in the series from here. I believe this book will give me a greater understanding of Adam Lapid’s character in 1950’s Israel.
I highly recommend this historical fiction/crime mystery for a more in-depth though fictional look at life in Auschwitz.
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About the Author
Jonathan Dunsky is the author of the Adam Lapid historical mysteries series. The first five books take place in the early days of the State of Israel and feature private investigator Adam Lapid, a Holocaust survivor and former Nazi hunter. The sixth novel, The Auschwitz Detective, is a prequel that takes place in Auschwitz-Birkenau in the summer of 1944.
Dunsky has also written a standalone crime thriller called The Payback Girl, in addition to publishing a number of short stories, in various genres.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for BIG LITTLE SPELLS (Witchlore Book #2) by Hazel Beck on this HTP Books Summer 2023 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!
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Book Summary
A smart, modern Rom-Com about a witch banished from her coven who seeks help from the only person who can prove she’s not a threat to witchkind—her annoyingly immortal childhood crush.
Rebekah Wilde was eighteen when she left St. Cyprian, officially stripped of her magic and banished from her home. Ten years later she’s forced to return to face the Joywood Coven, who preside over not just her hometown, but the whole magical world.
The Joywood are determined to prove Rebekah is a danger to witchkind, and she faces a death sentence if she can’t prove otherwise. Rebekah must seek help from the only one who knows how to stop the Joywood—the ruthless immortal Nicholas Frost. Years ago, he was her secret tutor in magic, and her secret, impossible crush. But the icy and frustratingly handsome immortal is as remote and arrogant as ever, and if he feels anything for Rebekah—or witchkind—it’s impossible to tell.Now, she’s no longer a child…and this time what sparks between Nicholas and Rebekah is more than just magic…
BIG LITTLE SPELLS (Witchlore Book #2) by Hazel Beck is an entertaining mash-up of paranormal romance and rom-com in the witchy world of St. Cyprian, Missouri. This second book in the Witchlore series picks up immediately where the first book, Small Town, Big Magic left the reader. I do feel for the best understanding of this book and the Witchlore world, it is best to read these books in order.
Rebekah Wilde is banished on what should have been the night of her acceptance into adult witch society. Ten years later, she is forced to return by the coven that banished her and while she is happy to be reunited with her older sister and friends, there is a dark plot underway to eliminate them all permanently.
Nicholas Frost is a dark and dangerous immortal who secretly tutored Rebekah before she left and while she had a schoolgirl crush on him at the time, she finds he is even more captivating now as an adult. While he remains arrogant and aloof, he does help Rebekah and her friends once more, but there will be a high price to pay.
This is an enjoyable new witchy world with good vs. evil, romance, family, forgiveness, and a good balance of dire and serious scenes vs. fun and enjoyable scenes. Rebekah is a heroine who has a lot of emotional tripwires to face as she returns home. I feel her character arc is believably written because even though she was gone for ten years, she falls back into old behavioral patterns when she returns home. Her romance with Nicholas has two broken souls accepting each other and their pasts, but there are also strong threads of sisterly love and the love between friends and family woven throughout this story.
I have enjoyed both books in this series so far and I am looking forward to following this coven of friends as they continue to fight for their town.
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Excerpt
Chapter One
You don’t have to be an exiled witch under threat of the death penalty should you cast the faintest little spell to feel the magic in Sedona, Arizona.
But it doesn’t hurt.
The full moon is shining, high and bright, making the red rocks glow outside my little bungalow. The air is soft and dry instead of swollen with Missouri’s trademark humidity, which I’m not sorry to leave behind.
If it was up to me, I would never have gone back to Missouri at all.
Because one thing exile has taught me is that magic is as much a habit as anything else. Unnecessary at best. Dangerous at worst. An addiction, in other words.
These days I am all about recovery.
Except for tonight. Tonight, admittedly, has been a bit of a relapse.
I breathe out and try to blow away the past while I do.
I’m standing out in my little yard, my head tipped toward the Arizona sky and my shoes kicked off so I can feel the earth and as many vortexes as possible. Because I’m a hippie, I tell myself. Just a run-of-the-mill Sedona hippie. Hair down, feet bare, crystals hanging all around like every other New Ager around here.
Not magic, just vibes.
But before I manage to fully ground myself here, I feel something grab me, like a huge, magical hook around the center of me—but inside out. It’s dark. Hard. Kind of slimy, really—and it makes my stomach heave.
This particular magical tug is a summons, yanking me out of the life I fought so hard to build, all on my own. Not for the first time.
Not even for the first time tonight.
Though this summons is harsher than the one before. Meaner.
I know instantly it’s not him.
Because he yanked me back to St. Cyprian too, but it didn’t hurt when he did it. It’s not supposed to hurt at all, and he made it feel almost good—
But I stop thinking about the maddeningly beautiful, impossible immortal witch who ruined my life once already, and start worrying about me.
There’s only one reason for me to be dragged back home against my will. And it’s been a long night already. My sister, Emerson, who I haven’t seen in person in a decade, formed her very own coven made up of our closest friends and one obnoxious immortal. Then, together, we all fought off a major, magic-induced flood that would have submerged the town of St. Cyprian and most of Missouri.
The final jerk makes Sedona disappear into a blur of red, then there’s a whooshing sensation while whispered words fill the air around me.
Rebekah Wilde, come before us, the voices command me.
And I’m back.
Right where I don’t want to be.
I’m standing outside a farmhouse across the river from my hometown. And instead of the terrifying wave of water and my sister ready to dive into the middle of it all like the first time I showed up here tonight, the river has settled down. The fight is over.
Or…maybe it’s only just begun.
Because a quick glance around shows me that Emerson is standing outside in the cool April night, looking like the fierce Warrior she is, her eyes blazing gold with all her newly rediscovered power. Jacob North, our old friend and a Healer—and, I think, my sister’s new love—stands with her and doesn’t look any worse for the intense healing he did when we came much too close to losing Emerson earlier.
Behind them is Zander Rivers, my cousin, looking uncharacteristically grim for a guy who used to make the role he was born into—a Guardian—seem a lot more fun than the name suggests. Next to him is Georgie Pendell, Emerson’s best friend, whose entire family has been witch Historians—and actual historians who run the town’s local-interest museum—as long as anyone can remember. And last but never least, Ellowyn Good. My best friend. And also the Summoner who helped Emerson contact me once Emerson remembered she was a witch, despite the Joywood spell that took those magic memories away from her for ten whole years.
Across from them stand all the members of the Joywood, the ruling coven based here in my hometown of St. Cyprian, MO. The authoritarian, bullying, small-minded coven that cheated me out of the life I was supposed to have.
Seven dictatorial witches I had no intention of laying eyes on again.
I feel a rush of a very old, too-dark fury inside me—but stop myself. It’s practically a reflex at this point. I don’t do outsize emotion or high drama anymore. I don’t do dark. That would lead directly to my death, and I’ve always been pretty clear about wanting to stay alive.
If I hadn’t wanted to live—my life on my terms—I would have stayed here. I would have let these petty Joywood tyrants wipe my mind the way they wiped my sister’s, taking away any hint of ever knowing magic.
I tell myself that I’ve forgiven them. I chant it inside me, not like one of the spells forbidden to me, but like a mantra. They were only doing their jobs, following their laws, as stupid as those laws might be. I forgive them because forgiveness is mine to give. I don’t need to carry the bitter taste of St. Cyprian and its ruling coven with me. I chose to leave all of this behind. I still choose it.
Something—not quite a shadow—moves in my peripheral vision, and I see him too. Nicholas Frost, the one and only immortal witch. Some people call him a traitor.
I call him all kinds of things and unlike most, have done it to his face. But now is not the time to air all my oldest grudges.
His gaze from halfway across a field makes everything inside me…change. Not so much that dangerous black fury any longer. This is something else. A different kind of heat.
I don’t want to acknowledge it. Or him. Especially not with this audience.
Even if, for a moment, it feels as if the two of us are all alone here.
I have to remind myself that we’re not.
I forgive you, I think at him, in my smuggest internal voice. The best of a decade of recovery programs right there. And even though I can’t—won’t—use a witch’s usual telepathic version of conversation, I suspect he hears me anyway. Because his dark blue eyes gleam.
From all the way across the tall grass.
“Rebekah Wilde,” booms a voice I recognize entirely too well, even though I haven’t heard it in a decade. Carol Simon, the Joywood coven’s Warrior and therefore the leader of…everything involving witches the world over.
I force myself to look at her, hopefully without my feelings all over my face, and decide that teenage me was right. Her frizzy hair really is unforgivable.
“You have been summoned here, to the site of your infraction, to answer for your offense,” she intones.
I finally take note of the fact that she and her cronies hauled me into this field, but not into the group of my friends and family who also infracted tonight. I’m standing halfway between them and the Joywood. As tempting as it is to think that’s just carelessness, I know better.
They don’t do careless.
I slouch where I stand, because even being across the river from my hometown makes me want to behave like the sulky teenager I was when I lived here. That’s what Carol and her buddies likely see anyway, so why not live down to their worst expectations? I’ve always been excellent at that.
I lock eyes with Felicia Ipswitch, the Joywood’s Diviner and my personal nemesis, and smirk a little. And just like that, it might as well be tenth grade when Felicia was the high school principal and I was a problem. A problem she thought she could solve with draconian detentions and the kind of punishments that would send human teachers to jail—but witch students heal up better.
Turns out I’m not over high school, which doesn’t really do a lot for the sullen peace and love vibe I’m trying to exude here.
I look away from that evil old hag to find Emerson looking at me like I’m an answer. That’s not unusual. My sister always thinks there is one. And better yet, that she can find it and implement it.
I know better, because I made my own way out in the world, relying on nothing and no one but me. I learned the hard way that life and the world often have no answers, no neat little bows. For anyone, witch or human.
I tell myself that it gives me great internal peace to accept this knowledge, and maybe it will, someday. I grit my teeth and think peace, please.
Especially when Carol starts to speak again. Peace, love, light, I chant inside me. No spellwork here. No witchcraft. Just words of power that anyone could use while anointing themselves in essential oils and rearranging their houses for better feng shui.
“I know you must think you did something big here tonight,” Carol is saying, as if she’s never heard anything dumber in her life. Her voice is so persuasive that I have to pinch myself to remember that no, we weren’t giggling over a Ouija board, pretending we weren’t pushing it while we clearly were. We actually fused together the way all the books say true covens should, fought some gnarly dark magic, and won. Almost at the expense of my sister’s life.
“But I’m afraid all you really did, Emerson and Rebekah, is break the terms set down before you when you failed your pubertatum.” She glances around. “And the rest of you broke several laws aiding them.”
The word pubertatum has not gotten any less obnoxious in the ten years I haven’t heard it spoken aloud. It’s an ugly Latin word for a coming-of-age ceremony where witches in their eighteenth year are required to demonstrate their powers so they might take their places in witch society. Pass the test and you answer a few questions to be herded into one of the seven witchkind designations. Warrior, Guardian, Summoner, Healer, Historian, Praeceptor, or Diviner.
Fail the test, like Emerson and I did, and you get to be a zombie or an outcast.
“I have power, Carol. You can’t deny that,” Emerson says, with her usual bouncy forthrightness, like she’s flabbergasted at the possibility that Carol would bother trying to deny such a thing. When it’s so obvious.
I really have missed my sister.
“You told me I had none.” Emerson points to me now. “You told us we have no power at all. You were wrong. And then, all this power inside me you said I didn’t have fought off your obliviscor.”
I expect rage. Carol has never been one for being told she’s wrong. Her mind wipe spell wasn’t supposed to have failed. But Carol surprises me.
She titters, and her cronies all laugh along with her. I remind myself that it’s supposed to make me feel wrong and stupid and vaguely humiliated. That’s what they do. Better to rule us by making us hate ourselves.
“And you’ve turned a simple testing error into some…nefarious plot? I do worry, Emerson, that fighting off the obliviscor addled your senses.”
“We just saved St. Cyprian and possibly all of witchkind, Carol,” my sister says, and not angrily. Just like she’s reciting facts, inviting Carol to come aboard. She even smiles. “You’re welcome.”
And I know hate is for the weak. Forgiveness is power. Blah, blah, blah.
But Carol Simon makes the case for blood feuds, forever. Especially when she rolls her eyes.
“We saved witchkind with no help from you,” Emerson continues, as if she doesn’t see any eye-rolling. Because she won’t give up. Emerson never, ever gives up.
Even when she should.
“As a concerned, dedicated St. Cyprian citizen who also happens to be chamber of commerce president, I have to wonder,” Emerson tells Carol. But she also casts an eye over the rest of them, these fixtures of St. Cyprian and my witchy past that I did not miss at all. Like Maeve Mather, the Joywood’s Summoner, who used to go out of her way to be mean to my grandmother. Just because she could. “Why, I’m asking myself, did the ruling body of all witchkind not only turn a blind eye to the obvious imbalance in our power source that’s been making the rivers rise so dangerously, but also fail to help us fix it? Why did we have to stop it?”
“I assume because you wanted attention,” Felicia says. It is a familiar sentence, meant to be pure condemnation. She used to use it all the time as a precursor to her nasty little punishments. My gaze moves across the dark field to find Ellowyn’s, and I can tell from my best friend’s expression that she’s remembering the same thing I am.
All of high school, basically. When Principal Ipswitch dedicated herself to what she called our reprehensible, attention-seeking behavior.
What amazes me is how little I’ve thought about high school since leaving Missouri. Deliberately. And tonight, it’s like I never left.
“I saw the darkness at the heart of the confluence myself,” Emerson says with a great calm I certainly don’t feel. Especially since I saw it too. That terrible, encroaching dark, eating the world whole. It had hunkered there where the three rivers meet, waiting malevolently. And then, tonight, it exploded. Emerson, with our help, destroyed it. My heart starts kicking at me again, a riot of panic, like it’s still happening.
“Are you accusing us of something?” Carol asks, and she’s scarily good at this. She sounds on the verge of laughter, yet somehow almost hurt. As if she cares deeply what Emerson thinks of her. Of them.
I worry this will work on my sister. Because the truth is, Emerson has no power here. She’s too honest, and this is politics. Power. It’s ego and control. Emerson is a lot of things I roll my eyes at all the time, but she’s never been ruled by ego or greed.
Not like these witches.
“I’m pointing out facts,” Emerson says, sounding patient now. My sister has never met a windmill she didn’t try to charge head-on. “And the facts are, we saved St. Cyprian. You could have helped us, Carol. But you didn’t.”
“Oh, Emerson.” Carol sounds sad. Legitimately sad, which would require emotions on her part. And I’m pretty sure velociraptors don’t have emotions. “Why would we deliberately choose not to help save the place where we live? How does that make sense?”
Emerson blinks. “You tell me.”
I want to give a short TED talk on gaslighting and master manipulators, but this is not the time. It’s still not clear whether this is an execution or not. Carol did mention infractions of the pubertatum rules, and last I heard, me using magic the way I did tonight is a capital offense. Emerson wasn’t supposed to be able to do it. I claimed I could do it, but was exiled because they said I had no real power—only the shameful, unsafe urge to use borrowed force. Either way, using witchcraft as an exile is about as forbidden as you can get.
I can always be counted on to rebel when it will do me the most harm.
There’s a part of me that wants to turn to Nicholas Frost, the only other being here who isn’t standing with a group. He’s the one who came up with the goddamned pubertatum back when the earth was young, or so they taught us in school. He is considered the first Praeceptor—the teacher of all teachers, but not in a safe little classroom way. Praeceptors in his day taught armies of witches, then wielded them.
But I know better than to look to him for help.
Looking at him at all is fraught enough when you were once a teenage girl with a teenage girl’s unwieldy crush. Those things are hard to vanquish.
“We saved St. Cyprian,” Emerson says again, as if saying it enough will get through to Carol when as far as I know, nothing has ever gotten through to Carol.
“Maybe you did save the town,” Felicia says, with her little sniff of disdain that I remember all too well. “But if you did, it was for your own gain and nothing more.”
I want to say that at least that’s better than doing it for attention, but I don’t, because I’m evolved as fuck.
My sister’s eyes narrow. And here’s the thing that most people don’t know about Emerson Wilde. She expends a lot of energy trying to convince the people around her to see the error of their ways. She embodies the notion that if you lead a horse to water in the right way, it really will drink.
But when she’s done, she’s done.
As her little sister, I know this better than anyone. So, I step in to stop the impending storm. “This seems straightforward to me,” I say, doing my best to sound as if all this carrying on is a waste of energy, and I low-key resent it. And as if I’m some kind of authority here. “Emerson has some magic. Let her take the test again.”
HAZEL BECK is the magical partnership of a river witch and an earth witch. Together, they have collected two husbands, three familiars, two children, five degrees, and written around 200 books. As one, their books will delight with breathtaking magic, emotional romance, and stories of witches you won’t soon forget.
