Millie Fisher may be widowed, but she leads a full life in her Amish hometown of Harvest, Ohio. There’s her quilting circle, her Boer goats, her gift for matchmaking—and the occasional murder . . .
Millie is happy that her childhood friend, Uriah Schrock, has returned to Harvest after decades away. He was sweet on Millie in their school days, but she only had eyes for her future husband. Now, there’s a new spark between them, so Millie is concerned when Uriah doesn’t show up at the Harvest concert series—or for his job as the Village square’s groundskeeper. Perhaps Millie has been involved in too many murder investigations, but she has a sinking feeling. And when she and her best friend, Lois, find Uriah with the police, it seems she’s right . . .
A film crew is in Harvest to make a movie about a forty-year-old unsolved murder. A skeleton has been found at the bottom of a ravine—and Uriah is certain it’s his sister, Galilee. Right before Uriah left Ohio, she disappeared, and her harsh husband, Samuel, was found fatally stabbed with a knitting needle. The sheriff declared that Galilee killed him and ran away. Uriah never believed the theory, and he’s come back to Harvest hoping, Gott willing, Millie will help him stitch together the truth . . .
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Elise’s Thoughts
Marriage Can Be Mischief is a cozy mystery in the small town of Harvest Ohio. It features Amish quilting matchmaker crime solver Millie Fisher and her English friend Lois Henry.
This installment has Millie’s childhood friend, Uriah Schrock, returning to Harvest to find out what happened to his sister, Galilee. Forty years ago, her abusive husband Samuel was found dead, and she has disappeared. But now a film crew doing a documentary on this cold case find a human skull and bones. After a DNA test the skeleton is found to be Galilee. The Sheriff who dislikes the Amish quickly determines that there is no new evidence to reopen the case and rules that she had killed her husband. But Millie realizes things do not add up and she agrees to find out the truth.
Always present to help Millie is her best friend, Lois. They are as opposite as can be. Millie is a widow who still mourns her late husband, while Lois is a three-time divorcee. Millie is reserved and Lois is flamboyant. Lois has purple/black spiked hair and Millie dresses in her Amish clothes. Even with these differences they are inseparable except for going to Church. Both spend their spare time trying to solve the murders in Harvest. Now they are trying to clear Galilee’s name and prove that someone else committed the murder. But it could be costly since the killer will do anything to make sure Lois and Millie are stopped.
Per usual, Amanda Flower does not disappoint. She consistently has likeable characters, charming settings, and engaging mysteries with plenty of humor to go around.
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Elise’s Author Interview
Elise Cooper: Idea for this story?
Amanda Flower: There has been so many murders in Harvest. Because both series are doing well there will be more killings. I wanted a cold case. It works out for it to be in the Matchmaker series because Lois and Millie are in their sixties, which means they would have been around forty years ago as adults, when the murder took place. I also want to build a case around an Amish restaurant.
EC: Is there an Amish Corner Beach restaurant for real?
AF: No, but it was based on those Amish restaurants with big buffets. Buses come in with tourists to get big family size meals. It is like Thanksgiving every single day. There must be at least ten restaurants that all look the same and serve the same food.
EC: Why did you put in the Amish proverb at the beginning of the book?
AF: You are referring to this one, “A house is made of walls and beams; a home is made of love and dreams.” The crime that happened is really based upon spousal abuse. It is usually very hushed. I did not want to ignore it as a problem. I used this quote because the victim had a house, but it was not a real home for her since it was not a loving place. I just made the connection of the Barbra Streisand song, “A House is Not a Home.”
EC: The animal stars of this series are the goats, Phillip, and Peter. Do you have goats?
AF: No, but we do want them eventually. We are going to do chickens first. One of my neighbors told me chickens are like a gateway animal. They are more low maintenance than goats. Millie’s nephews and the goats always are a good addition to the story.
EC: Uriah and Millie are no longer an item?
AF: He is uncertain of Millie’s feelings. His mission to come back to Holmes County was to find out what happened to his sister. This has tortured him for the last forty years, not knowing what happened to her. He really cares about Millie, but his emotions are preoccupied by his missing sister. In the next book, he has returned home to Indiana. He was very dedicated to his sister, and realizes Millie is still in love with the memory of Kip, her late husband.
EC: You brought in Millie’s late husband Kip?
AF: Yes. He was steadfast and traditional Amish. They loved each other deeply. He was a kind and loving husband. She is not over him. Millie commented in this book, she does not know what he would think of her life now. She and Lois are chasing murderers and she is not leading a traditional Amish life.
EC: Abuse?
AF: Samuel, the abusing husband, and his wife, Galilee were never in love. Theirs was a marriage of convenience. Most Amish marry for love, but land and property were sometimes considered. If a man wants something monetary, they will marry for that reason. He did not love her and emotionally/physically abused her.
EC: The Bishop has so much say in someone’s marriage?
AF: Yes. This is one of the hard things for a non-Amish person to wrap their head around. He is basically the law in the district and what he decides must be followed. He is essentially chosen by G-d to lead the Church and the community. It makes it difficult for anyone to leave, because they will be excommunicated, which means they must be “shunned” by everyone including their family. In this book, I had the current Bishop remove a wife if there is even a rumor of abuse. He is compassionate and understanding to the wife’s struggles.
EC: The role of the sheriff?
AF: He is unkind and evil. He does not respect the Amish, considers them in a bad light, and has his judgement colored. He stays in this position of power because no one challenges him in an election. Sheriff Marshall has a lot of say with other law enforcement agencies in the state of Ohio. Eventually Aiden will challenge him in a future book.
EC: The role of baseball?
AF: The Amish will play baseball. Millie’s nephew, Micah, learned about baseball from an English boy who is his classmate. He taught Micah about collecting baseball cards. Micah is fascinated with this hobby because he loves playing baseball. Micah hides collecting baseball cards because there are pictures of the players on the cards. Remember the Amish do not have faces on dolls and never take photographs, or have pictures of their family, for that reason.
EC: How would you describe the victim, Galilee?
AF: Frightened. When she was working at the restaurant, she was more herself and enjoyed being away from her husband. Overall, timid and scared of her husband Samuel. She is kind and joyful at work, but at home she is closed off.
EC: Next books?
AF: The final book in the “Magical Mysteries Series” comes out in January 2022, titled Crimes and Covers. There is a murder outside a wedding tent. In February 2022 Put Out to Pasture, the farm series comes out. In March 2022 Frozen Detective will come out by Hallmark. It has a murder happening at a posh New Year’s Eve party at a ski resort. The murder weapon is a bow and arrow. Peanut Butter Panic, the “Amish Candy Shop Mystery Series” comes out in May or June 2022. It is set in Thanksgiving. The busybody, Margot, has her mother coming to Harvest with her new husband, someone very much younger than her. At dinner he drops dead from a peanut allergy. In July 2022 my first historical mystery comes out. It is set in 1855 with the sleuths Emily Dickerson and her maid. The “Amish Matchmaker Series” featuring Millie will be out this time next year. It is titled Honeymoon’s Can Be Hazardous. Lois’ ex-husband comes to Amish country with his new wife. The next day his wife dies, and Lois is the prime suspect. There will be an issue of drug trafficking.
THANK YOU!!
BIO: Elise Cooper has written book reviews and interviewed best-selling authors since 2009. Her reviews have covered several different genres, including thrillers, mysteries, women’s fiction, romance and cozy mysteries. An avid reader, she engages authors to discuss their works, and to focus on the descriptions of their characters and the plot. While not writing reviews, Elise loves to watch baseball and visit the ocean in Southern California, with her dog and husband.
Today is my turn to share my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for PICKLED PINK IN PARIS (Julie Fairchild Mystery Book #3) by PJ Peterson.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
A major business deal is disrupted by murder.
But a young physician has the key to the case…
A dying man’s last word whispered in her ear: “…mushroom…”
When medical internist Julia Fairchild receives an invitation to Paris from her long-distance beau, Josh, she packs a bag, grabs her sister Carly, and jets off for the City of Lights. But once they arrive, death and suspicion take the place of champagne and escargot. Josh’s business partner is dying in the hospital, and the gendarmes are convinced Josh is behind it.
Naturally curious and driven to seek justice, Julia jumps at the chance to clear Josh’s name – but he doesn’t seem interested in proving his innocence. Is he hiding something? Will Julia uncover the true murderer and salvage what’s left of her Paris vacation, or is she next on the killer’s hit list?
Genre: Cozy Mystery Published by: Finngirl, LLC Publication Date: August 5th 2021 Number of Pages: 246 ISBN: 1733567518 (ISBN-13: 978-1733567510) Series: Julia Fairchild Mysteries, Book 3
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
PICKLED PINK IN PARIS (Julia Fairchild Mystery Book #3) by PJ Peterson is the third book in this entertaining cozy mystery series featuring amateur sleuth and Dr. Julia Fairchild. This mystery is easily read as a standalone, but the few casual mentions of her other adventures and the smart plotting of this story make me want to go back and read the first two books, also.
Dr. Julia Fairchild and her sister, Carly are excited about taking a weeklong vacation in Paris to meet up with Julia’s long-distance beau, Josh. Josh is on a business trip, but he assures Julia he will have time for each other when his business is done.
Julia and Carly are happy to show off the new skills they learned at a class at the famed Le Cordon Bleu by setting up an appetizer buffet at Josh’s last business meeting per his request. Later, Josh’s business partner is discovered near death in Josh’s bathroom. He dies in the hospital and Josh is considered a suspect.
Naturally curious and always interested in solving a puzzle, Julia searches for the killer to clear Josh’s name. Does Josh deserve Julia’s faith, and will she uncover the killer? Or is Julia next on the killer’s list?
I enjoyed this cozy mystery very much. You have a great location, an intelligent protagonist, and a twisted cozy plot with plenty of red herrings to keep you guessing. This author is able to write a present-day cozy mystery that is believable without using slap-stick characters and off-the-wall premises. The only time I felt there was an unrealistic bit was when Julia interacted with the French detectives. I do not feel they would have been quite so accepting and forgiving of her interference, but this is a fiction mystery. That said, the dialogue and plot move at a realistic pace throughout and kept me turning the pages.
I am looking forward to reading more Julia Fairchild cozy mysteries!
***
Excerpt
Chapter 1
…..Five minutes later they were in the hotel lobby, where they found Josh waiting. Julia felt her breath quicken at the sight of the dark-haired, blue-eyed man with his trim athletic build. He returned her smile with a huge grin of his own, then enveloped Julia in a big hug, winking at Carly, who pretended to be embarrassed by the public display of affection. She was mollified by her own welcoming hug in turn. The trio chatted and laughed as they sauntered to the private patio, where a young, buff waiter seated them and took drink orders.
“Julia, let me explain what’s happened since my last email to you,” Josh said as he took Julia’s hands in his own. “As you know, I was planning to stay at this same hotel so I would be close to you.”
“You did say this was your favorite place. Where are you staying instead?”
“The Marriott on the Champs-Élysées. Roger Westover, one of my business partners, had arranged for us to stay in a suite of rooms because several of our clients are from out of town.”
“I don’t get it,” said Julia. “Why do you have to stay together?”
“Here come our drinks. I’ll explain in a minute.”
Julia caught the waiter winking at Carly as he served the beverages. She smiled, recalling other moments when her adorable golden-haired younger sister had attracted a man’s eye. Their Finnish heritage provided them both with striking high cheekbones, although Julia was bestowed brunette locks and sparkly blue eyes, in contrast to her sister’s blonde curls and hazel eyes.
“First, a toast to two beautiful women who make Paris even more lovely.” Josh raised his glass, with the sisters following suit. “Salud.”
Julia tasted the delightful pinot grigio, which had been chilled to the perfect temperature, as Carly sipped her gimlet.
“Here’s the story, Julia.” Josh took a big breath. “Okay, normally we would meet our clients at local restaurants or in their own offices; but these men, except Pierre, came to Paris from other cities. It seemed easier to have our meetings in the hotel rather than trying to find a restaurant with a meeting room. Anyway, Roger told me a couple of clients had insisted that we stay at the hotel with them.”
“Does that mean I won’t be seeing you?” Julia asked.
“No, but it will be less of me for now,” Josh replied. “That’s why I’m glad you have Carly with you. I know you will find fun things to do. We’ll catch up after these guys leave town in a couple of days.”
Julia sighed and said, “I understand.”
“In the meantime,” said Josh, “I have instructed your concierge to take care of any tickets or excursions that you would like to do at my expense. And the limousine is at your disposal.”
“You don’t have to do all that,” said Julia, disappointed that he had made arrangements as though he had known he wouldn’t be joining them.
“Actually, my company can afford it, and they owe it to me, seeing as how they put us in this position in the first place.”
Julia kissed Josh on the cheek. “Thank you, but I’d rather see you.”
“You will in a couple of days. I promise.”
Julia smiled hesitantly. “I knew we would have to entertain ourselves for the first couple of days anyway, so we have a Cordon Bleu course scheduled for tomorrow, and we can work in some sightseeing while we’re waiting.”
Carly piped up. “Julia is hoping you will want to take tango lessons with her while you’re here.”
“She is, huh?” Josh said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds interesting. That might be safer than your tap dance adventures last year.”
“I’m not planning to get involved in any murders this trip. Scout’s promise.” Julia raised her glass.
Carly snorted. “As if you could avoid them.”
“A cooking class at Cordon Bleu sounds safe enough to me,” Josh said as he finished his drink. “Just don’t poison anyone.”
***
Author Bio
PJ is a retired internist who enjoyed the diagnostic part of practicing medicine as well as creating long-lasting relationships with her patients. As a child she wanted to be a doctor so she could “help people.” She now volunteers at the local Free Medical Clinic to satisfy that need to help.
She loved to read from a young age and read all the Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew books she could find. It wasn’t until she was an adult that she wrote anything longer than short stories for English classes and term papers in others. Writing mysteries only makes sense given her early exposure to that genre. Sprinkling in a little medical mystique makes it all the more fun.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tour for the first cozy mystery in this fun amateur sleuth series featuring a female bartender as the protagonist – DEATH IN TRANQUILITY (The Bartender’s Guide to Murder Book #1) by Sharon Linnea.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Good luck on the giveaway and enjoy!
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Book Synopsis
No one talks to the cops. Everyone talks to the bartender. And Avalon Nash is one hell of a bartender.
Avalon is on the run from her life in Los Angeles. Having a drink while waiting to change trains in the former Olympic town of Tranquility, New York, she discovers the freshly murdered bartender at MacTavish’s. A bartender herself, she’s offered the position with the warning he wasn’t the first MacTavish’s bartender to meet a violent end.
Avalon’s superpower is collecting people’s stories, and she’s soon embroiled in the lives of artists, politicians, ghost hunters and descendants of Old Hollywood.
Can Avalon outrun the ghosts of her past, catch the ghosts of Tranquility’s past and outsmart a murderer?
The first book in the Bartender’s Guide to Murder series offers chills, laughs, and 30 of the best drink recipes ever imbibed.
Genre: Mystery Published by: Arundel Publishing Publication Date: September 29th 2020 Number of Pages: 323 ISBN: 9781933608 (ISBN13: 9781933608150) Series: Bartender’s Guide to Murder, 1
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My Book Review
RATING: 4.5 out of 5 Stars
DEATH IN TRANQUILITY (The Bartender’s Guide to Murder Book #1) by Sharon Linnea is the first cozy mystery in this fun amateur sleuth series featuring a female bartender as the protagonist. Besides the introduction to a new small town full of interesting characters the reader also gets thirty drink recipes related to the story.
Avalon Nash is running from her life in Los Angeles and is presently waiting to change trains in the small former Olympic town of Tranquility, NY. As she waits, she is having a drink in a quaint bar called MacTavish’s. As the orders back up, Avalon tells the waitress she will look for the missing bartender only to find his dead body on a balcony off the back of the bar.
Avalon is a great bartender and collector of stories. She is offered the now open bartending position on a trial basis, delays her departure and soon finds herself embroiled in the lives and secrets of the residents of Tranquility. Avalon learns that this was the second bartender at MacTavish’s to be murdered. Can she help the local state police officer find a killer before she becomes the next bartender to die?
Avalon is a wonderful protagonist. Her talent as a bartender and her insight into people makes her an impressive amateur sleuth. Her love of old movies and the tie in with Old Hollywood in Tranquility added depth to the plot and added many more twists and red herrings. While a portion of Avalon’s personal story was revealed in this book, there is still so much more to learn about her and her secrets. All the secondary characters were interesting and quirky once you get them all sorted out and I am looking forward to seeing them again in future books. There is also a touch of paranormal which is yet to be fully explored.
Overall, an entertaining and well written start to a new series with a wonderful protagonist that I am looking forward to revisiting.
***
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Death in the Afternoon
“Whenever you see the bartender, I’d like another drink,” I said, lifting my empty martini glass and tipping it to Marta, the waitress with teal hair.
“Everyone wants another drink,” she said, “but Joseph’s missing. I can’t find him. Anywhere.”
“How long has he been gone?” I asked.
“About ten minutes. It’s not like him. Joseph would never just go off without telling me.”
That’s when I should have done it. I should have put down forty bucks to cover my drink and my meal and left that magical, moody, dark-wood paneled Scottish bar and sauntered back across the street to the train station to continue on my way.
If I had, everything would be different.
Instead I nodded, grateful for a reason to stand up. A glance at my watch told me over half an hour remained until my connecting train chugged in across the street. I could do Marta a solid by finding the bartender and telling him drink orders were stacking up.
Travelling from Los Angeles to New York City by rail, I had taken the northern route, which required me to change trains in the storied village of Tranquility, New York. Once detrained, the posted schedule had informed me should I decide to bolt and head north for Montreal, I could leave within the hour. The train heading south for New York City, however, would not be along until 4 p.m.
Sometimes in life you think it’s about where you’re going, but it turns out to be about where you change trains.
It was an April afternoon; the colors on the trees and bushes were still painting from the watery palate of spring. Here and there, forsythia unfurled in insistent bursts of golden glory.
I needed a drink.
Tranquility has been famous for a long time. Best known for hosting the Winter Olympics back in 19-whatever, it was an eclectic blend of small village, arts community, ski mecca, gigantic hotels and Olympic facilities. Certainly there was somewhere a person could get lunch.
Perched on a hill across the street from the station sat a shiny, modern hotel of the upscale chain variety. Just down the road, father south, was a large, meandering, one-of-a-kind establishment called MacTavish’s Seaside Cottage. It looked nothing like a cottage, and, as we were inland, there were no seas. I doubted the existence of a MacTavish.
I headed over at once.
The place evoked a lost inn in Brigadoon. A square main building of a single story sent wings jutting off at various angles into the rolling hills beyond. Floor-to-ceiling windows made the lobby bright and airy. A full suit of armor stood guard over the check-in counter, while a sculpture of two downhill skiers whooshed under a skylight in the middle of the room.
Behind the statue was the Breezy, a sleek restaurant overlooking Lake Serenity (Lake Tranquility was in the next town over, go figure). The restaurant’s outdoor deck was packed with tourists on this balmy day, eating and holding tight to their napkins, lest they be lost to the murky depths.
Off to the right—huddled in the vast common area’s only dark corner—was a small door with a carved, hand-painted wooden sign which featured a large seagoing vessel plowing through tumultuous waves. That Ship Has Sailed, it read. A tavern name if I ever heard one.
Beyond the heavy door, down a short dark-wood hallway, in a tall room lined with chestnut paneling, I paused to let my eyes adjust to the change in light, atmosphere, and, possibly, century.
The bar was at a right angle as you entered, running the length of the wall. It was hand-carved and matched the back bar, which held 200 bottles, easily.
A bartender’s dream, or her undoing.
Two of the booths against the far wall were occupied, as were two of the center tables.
I sat at the bar.
Only one other person claimed a seat there during this low time between meal services. He was a tall gentleman with a square face, weathered skin, and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. I felt his cold stare as I perused the menu trying to keep to myself. I finally gave up and stared back.
“Flying Crow,” he said. “Mohawk Clan.”
“Avalon,” I said. “Train changer.”
I went back to my menu, surprised to find oysters were a featured dish.
“Avalon?” he finally said. “That’s—”
“An odd name,” I answered. “I know. Flying Crow? You’re in a Scottish pub.”
“Ask him what Oswego means.” This was from the bartender, a lanky man with salt-and-pepper hair. “Oh, but place your order first.”
“Are the oysters good?” I asked.
“Oddly, yes. One of the best things on the menu. Us being seaside, and all.”
“All right, then. Oysters it is. And a really dry vodka martini, olives.”
“Pimento, jalapeño, or bleu cheese?”
“Ooh, bleu cheese, please.” I turned to Flying Crow. “So what does Oswego mean?”
“It means, ‘Nothing Here, Give It to the Crazy White Folks.’ Owego, on the other hand means, ‘Nothing Here Either.’”
“How about Otego? And Otsego and Otisco?”
His eyebrow raised. He was impressed by my knowledge of obscure town names in New York State. “They all mean, ‘We’re Just Messing with You Now.’”
“Hey,” I said, raising my newly delivered martini. “Thanks for coming clean.”
He raised his own glass of firewater in return.
“Coming clean?” asked the bartender, and he chuckled, then dropped his voice. “If he’s coming clean, his name is Lesley.”
“And you are?” I asked. He wasn’t wearing a name tag.
“Joseph.”
“Skål,” I said, raising my glass. “Glad I found That Ship Has Sailed.”
“That’s too much of a mouthful,” he said, flipping over the menu. “Everyone calls it the Battened Hatch.”
“But the Battened Hatch isn’t shorter. Still four syllables.”
“Fewer words,” said Joseph with a smile that included crinkles by his eyes. “Fewer capital letters over which to trip.”
As he spoke, the leaded door banged open and two men in chinos and shirtsleeves arrived, talking loudly to each other. The door swung again, just behind them, admitting a stream of ten more folks—both women and men, all clad in business casual. Some were more casual than others. One man with silvering hair actually wore a suit and tie; another, a white artist’s shirt, his blonde hair shoulder-length. The women’s garments, too, ran the gamut from tailored to flowing. One, of medium height, even wore a white blouse, navy blue skirt and jacket, finished with hose and pumps. And a priest’s collar.
“Conventioneers?” I asked Joseph. Even as I asked, I knew it didn’t make sense. No specific corporate culture was in evidence.
He laughed. “Nah. Conference people eat at the Blowy. Er, Breezy. Tranquility’s Chamber of Commerce meeting just let out.” His grey eyes danced. “They can never agree on anything, but their entertainment quotient is fairly high. And they drive each other to drink.”
Flying Crow Lesley shook his head.
Most of the new arrivals found tables in the center of the room. Seven of them scooted smaller tables together, others continued their conversations or arguments in pairs.
“Marta!” Joseph called, leaning through a door in the back wall beside the bar.
The curvy girl with the teal hair, nose and eyebrow rings and mega eye shadow clumped through. Her eyes widened when she saw the influx of patrons.
Joseph slid the grilled oysters with fennel butter in front of me. “Want anything else before the rush?” He indicated the well-stocked back bar.
“I’d better hold off. Just in case there’s a disaster and I end up having to drive the train.”
He nodded knowingly. “Good luck with that.”
I took out my phone, then re-pocketed it. I wanted a few more uncomplicated hours before re-entering the real world. Turning to my right, I found that Flying Crow had vanished. In his stead, several barstools down, sat a Scotsman in full regalia: kilt, Bonnie Prince Charlie jacket and a fly plaid. It was predominantly red with blue stripes.
Wow. Mohawk clan members, Scotsmen, and women priests in pantyhose. This was quite a town.
Joseph was looking at an order screen, and five drinks in different glasses were already lined up ready for Marta to deliver.
My phone buzzed. I checked caller i.d. Fought with myself. Answered.
Was grabbed by tentacles of the past.
When I looked up, filled with emotions I didn’t care to have, I decided I did need another drink; forget driving the train.
The line of waiting drink glasses was gone, as were Marta and Joseph.
I checked the time. I’d been in Underland for fifteen minutes, twenty at the most. It was just past three. I had maybe forty-five minutes before I should move on.
That was when Marta swung through the kitchen door, her head down to stave off the multiple calls from the center tables. She stood in front of me, punching information into the point of sale station, employing the NECTM—No Eye Contact Tactical Maneuver.
That’s when she told me Joseph was missing.
“Could he be in the restroom?”
“I asked Arthur when he came out, but he said there was nobody else.”
I nodded at Marta and started by going out through the front hall, to see if perhaps he’d met someone in the lobby. As I did a lap, I overheard a man at check-in ask, “Is it true the inn is haunted?”
“Do you want it to be?” asked the clerk, nonplussed.
But no sign of the bartender.
I swung back through into the woodsy-smelling darkness of the Battened Hatch, shook my head at the troubled waitress, then walked to the circular window in the door. The industrial kitchen was white and well-lit, and as large as it was, I could see straight through the shared kitchen to the Breezy. No sign of Joseph. I turned my attention back to the bar.
Beyond the bar, there was a hallway to the restrooms, and another wooden door that led outside. I looked back at Marta and nodded to the door.
“It doesn’t go anywhere,” she said. “It’s only a little smoker’s deck.”
I wondered if Joseph smoked, tobacco or otherwise. Certainly the arrival of most of a Chamber of Commerce would suggest it to me. I pushed on the wooden door. It seemed locked. I gave it one more try, and, though it didn’t open, it did budge a little bit.
This time I went at it with my full shoulder. There was a thud, and it wedged open enough that I could slip through.
It could hardly be called a deck. You couldn’t put a table—or even a lounge chair—out there.
Especially with the body taking up so much of the space.
It was Joseph. I knelt quickly and felt for a pulse at his neck, but it was clear he was inanimate. He was sitting up, although my pushing the door open had made him lean at an angle. I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was one of pain or surprise. There was some vomit beside him on the deck, and a rivulet down his chin. I felt embarrassed to be seeing him this way.
Crap. He was always nice to me. Well, during the half an hour I’d known him, he had been nice to me.
What was it with me discovering corpses? It was certainly a habit of which I had to break myself.
Meanwhile, what to do? Should I call in the priest? But she was within a group, and it would certainly start a panic. Call 911?
Yes, that would be good. That way they could decide to call the hospital or the police or both.
My phone was back in my purse.
And, you know what? I didn’t want the call to come from me. I was just passing through.
I pulled the door back open and walked to Marta behind the bar. “Call 911,” I said softly. “I found Joseph.”
***
Author Bio
Sharon Linnéa wrote the bestselling Eden Series (Chasing Eden, Beyond Eden, Treasure of Eden and Plagues of Eden) with B.K. Sherer, as well as the standalone These Violent Delights, a movie murder series. She enjoyed working with Axel Avian on Colt Shore: Domino 29, a middle-grade spy thriller. She is also the author of Princess Ka’iulani: Hope of a Nation, Heart of a People about the last crown princess of Hawaii which won the prestigious Carter Woodson Award, and Raoul Wallenberg: the Man Who Stopped Death. She was a staff writer for five national magazines, a book editor at three publishers, and a celebrity ghost. She lives outside New York City with her family. In Orange County, she teaches The Book Inside You workshops with Thomas Mattingly.
MURDER ON THE ISLAND (Chloe Canton Mystery Book #1) by Daisy White is a cozy mystery with a female amateur sleuth who is reinventing her life at fifty on the beautiful island of Bermuda.
Chloe Canton’s life is in for a major change. When her grandmother Dre dies, she is gifted a home and stables on the island of Bermuda. Recently divorced, tired of her unfulfilling life and job in England, she is hesitant and yet excited about this opportunity for a fresh start. Some of her best childhood memories were from her time with Dre on the island.
All is not easy in paradise. Chloe finds the stable business is in trouble due to rumors, her home and business are on prime real estate that someone wants to develop and then she finds a dead body on one of the local riding trails.
The island is working its magic on Chloe. She discovers she is stronger than ever and willing to fight for her happiness. With the help of new island friends, Chloe works to save her new business and life in paradise while untangling the rumors, mysteries and murder.
I enjoyed this escapist cozy mystery to Bermuda and Chloe. Chloe is a woman that I believe many women can relate to because she wants to change the direction of her life and is willing to work for the change. She is caring and generous, but also a little bit nosy. The author does a wonderful job of bringing Chloe and the island to life. All of the neighbors, new friends and animals add to the entertainment in light moments and add to the list of suspects as the mystery progresses.
I highly recommend this escapist cozy mystery in paradise and new amateur sleuth to follow!
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About the Author
Daisy White/D.E White writes crime/thrillers and cosy crime. After numerous jobs, including being a flight attendant, a 999 call handler for the ambulance service, and a healthcare assistant in A&E, Daisy started writing full time in 2017. She lives on the Sussex coast, UK and has two children and a flock of rescued chickens.
A brand new crime thriller series, starting with GLASS DOLLS: Published by Joffe Books, the series follows former Elite Police Source Handler, Detective Dove Milson, in her first case for the Major Crimes Team. Book two, THE ICE DAUGHTERS is out now.
Daisy also writes cosy crime, including the Amazon bestselling RUBY BAKER SEASIDE MYSTERIES for Joffe Books. A brand new cosy crime series, THE CHLOE CANTON MYSTERIES, will be out in Feb 24th 2021, pub’d by Bloodhound Books and starting with MURDER ON THE ISLAND.
Standalones include psychological thriller REMEMBER ME and gangland thriller THE FORGOTTEN CHILD pub’d by HarperCollins.
Series in Order:
Crime Thrillers – Detective Dove Milson: 1/3 GLASS DOLL 2/3 THE ICE DAUGHTERS *New Release* 3/3 PLAY TIME
Cosy Mysteries: The Ruby Baker Mysteries: 1/3 BEFORE I LEFT 2/3 BEFORE I FOUND YOU 3/3 BEFORE I TRUST YOU
The Chloe Canton Mysteries: 1/3 MURDER ON THE ISLAND *New Release* 2/3 MURDER ON THE BEACH 3/3 MURDER ON VALENTINE’S DAY
Today is my turn on this Partners In Crime Book Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for A MURDER IS FOREVER by Rob Bates.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Good luck on the Rafflecopter giveaway and enjoy!
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Book Synopsis
Max Rosen always said the diamond business isn’t about sorting the gems, it’s about sorting the people. His daughter Mimi is about to learn that some people, like some diamonds, can be seriously flawed.
After Mimi’s diamond-dealer cousin Yosef is murdered–seemingly for his $4 million pink diamond–Mimi finds herself in the middle of a massive conspiracy, where she doesn’t know who to trust, or what to believe. Now she must find out the truth about both the diamond and her cousin, before whoever killed Yosef, gets her.
Genre: Mystery Published by: Camel Press Publication Date: October 13th 2020 Number of Pages: 281 ISBN: 1603812229 (ISBN13: 9781603812221) Series: The Diamond District Mystery Series
A MURDER IS FOREVER (The Diamond District Mystery Series Book #1) by Rob Bates is the first book in a new amateur sleuth cozy mystery series set in New York City’s Diamond District.
Mimi Rosen is an unemployed journalist with no prospects and out of money. She reluctantly goes to work doing the books for her father’s gem company in the Diamond District of NYC.
Diamond dealing can be a dangerous profession and when Mimi’s cousin, Yosef is murdered it is assumed to be a gang related robbery, but the last 24 hours of Yosef’s life, lead Mimi to believe there is something more going on that all revolves around a large pink diamond her cousin was trying to sell.
As Mimi learns more about the diamond industry, she believes her cousin was involved in a scandal that involves bribery and murder all related to the pink diamond. Another death considered a suicide and a personal attack on Mimi’s life make Mimi more determined than ever to solve Josef’s murder no matter the consequences.
This mystery was well paced with enough twists and red herrings to keep me turning the pages and an interesting setting in NYC’s Diamond District. This book immerses the reader in the close familial diamond business and the orthodox Jewish culture in the area without slowing the pace in the mystery itself. Mimi is an interesting main character that I had mixed feeling about. On the surface, you feel sympathy for her situation, but as you read on you realize that she brought many of her personal problems on herself. As she deals with the murder, she once again is jumping into a situation she is not prepared to handle. All the secondary characters were interesting, but some seemed more caricature than realistic.
Overall, an entertaining and interesting mystery.
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Excerpt
A MURDER IS FOREVER
By Rob Bates
CHAPTER ONE
As Mimi Rosen exited the subway and looked out on the Diamond District, she remembered the words of her therapist: “This won’t last forever.”
She sure hoped so. She had been working on Forty-Seventh Street for two months and was already pretty tired of it.
To outsiders, “The Diamond District” sounded glamorous, like a street awash in glitter. To Mimi, who had spent her life around New York, Forty-Seventh Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues was a crowded, dirty eyesore of a block. The sidewalk was covered not with glitz, but with newspaper boxes, cigarettes, stacks of garbage bags, and, of course, lots of people.
Dozens of jewelry stores lined the street, all vying for attention, with red neon signs proclaiming “we buy gold” or “50 percent off.” Their windows boasted the requisite rows of glittery rings, and Mimi would sometimes see tourists ogling them, their eyes wide. She hated how the stores crammed so many gems in each display, until they all ran together like a mess of kids’ toys. For all its feints toward elegance, Forty-Seventh Street came off as the world’s sparkliest flea market.
Mimi knew the real action in the Diamond District was hidden from pedestrians, because it took place upstairs. There, in the nondescript grey and brown buildings that stood over the stores, billions in gems were bought, sold, traded, stored, cut, appraised, lost, found, and argued over. The upstairs wholesalers comprised the heart of the U.S. gem business; if someone bought a diamond anywhere in America, it had likely passed through Forty-Seventh Street.
Mimi’s father Max had spent his entire life as part of the small tight-knit diamond dealer community. It was a business based on who you knew—and even more, who you trusted. “This business isn’t about sorting the diamonds,” Max always said. “It’s about sorting the people.” Mimi would marvel how traders would seal million-dollar deals on handshakes, without a contract or lawyer in sight.
It helped that Forty-Seventh Street was comprised mostly of family businesses, owned by people from a narrow range of ethnic groups. Most—like Mimi’s father—were Orthodox, or religious, Jews. (“We’re the only people crazy enough to be in this industry,” as Max put it.) The Street was also home to a considerable contingent of Hasidic Jews, who were even more religious and identifiable by their black top hats and long flowing overcoats. Mimi once joked that Forty-Seventh Street was so diverse, it ran the gamut from Orthodox to ultra-Orthodox.
Now Mimi, while decidedly secular, was part of it all. Working for her father’s diamond company was not something she wanted to do, not something she ever dreamed she would do. Yet, here she was.
She had little choice. She had not worked full-time since being laid off from her editing job a year ago. She was already in debt from her divorce, which had cost more than her wedding, and netted little alimony. “That’s what happens when you divorce a lawyer,” said her shrink.
Six months after she lost her job, Mimi first asked her father for money. He happily leant it to her, though he added he wasn’t exactly Rockefeller. It was after her third request—accompanied, like the others, by heartfelt vows to pay him back—that he asked her to be the bookkeeper at his company. “I know you hate borrowing from me,” he told her. “This way, it isn’t charity. Besides, it’ll be nice having you around.”
Mimi protested she could barely keep track of her own finances. Her father reminded her that she got an A in accounting in high school. Which apparently qualified her to do the books at Max Rosen Diamond Company.
“We have new software, it makes it easy,” Max said. “Your mother, may she rest in peace, did it for years.”
Mimi put him off. She had a profession, and it wasn’t her mother’s.
Mimi was a journalist. She had worked at a newspaper for nine years, and a website for five. She was addicted to the thrill of the chase, the pump of adrenaline when she uncovered a hot story or piece of previously hidden info. There is no better sound to a reporter’s ears than someone sputtering, “How did you find that out?”
“It’s the perfect job for you,” her father once said. “You’re a professional nosy person.”
She loved journalism for a deeper reason, which she rarely admitted to her cynical reporter friends: She wanted to make a difference. As a girl, she was haunted by the stories they told in religious school, how Jews were killed in concentration camps while the world turned its head. Growing up, she devoured All the President’s Men and idolized pioneering female muckrakers like Nellie Bly.
Being a journalist was the only thing Mimi ever wanted to do, the only thing she knew how to do. She longed to do it again.
Which is why, she told her therapist, she would tell her father no.
Dr. Asner said she understood, in that soft melancholy coo common to all therapists. Then she crept forward on her chair.
“Maybe you should take your father up on this. He’s really throwing you a lifeline. You keep telling me how bad the editorial job market is.” She squinted and her glasses inched up her nose. “Sometimes people adjust their dreams. Put them on hold.”
Mimi felt the blood drain from her face. In her darker moments—and she had quite a few after her layoff—she had considered leaving journalism and doing something else, though she had no idea what that would be. Mimi always believed that giving up her lifelong passion would be tantamount to surrender.
Dr. Asner must have sensed her reaction, because she quickly backtracked.
“You can continue to look for a journalism job,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe working in the Diamond District will give you something to write about. Besides,”— here, her voice gained an edge—“you need the money.” That was driven home at the end of the forty-five minutes, when Dr. Asner announced that she couldn’t see Mimi for any more sessions, since Mimi hadn’t paid her for the last three.
By that point, Mimi didn’t know whether to argue, burst into tears, or wave a white flag and admit the world had won.
It was a cold February morning as Mimi walked down Forty-Seventh Street to her father’s office, following an hour-plus commute from New Jersey that included a car, a bus, and a subway. With her piercing hazel eyes, glossy brown hair, and closely set features, Mimi was frequently told she was pretty, though she never quite believed it. She had just gotten her hair cut short to commemorate her thirty-eighth birthday, hoping for a more “mature” look. She had always been self-conscious about her height; she was five foot four and tried to walk taller. She was wearing a navy dress that she’d snagged for a good price on eBay; it was professional enough to please her father, who wanted everyone to look nice in the office, without being so nice that she was wasting one of her few good outfits. She was bundled up with multiple layers and a heavy coat—to protect against the winter chill, as well as the madness around her.
Even though it was before 9 AM, Forty-Seventh Street was, as usual, packed, and Mimi gritted her teeth as she bobbed and weaved through the endless crowd. She sidestepped the store workers grabbing a smoke, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t get cancer. She swerved around the stern-looking guard unloading the armored car, with the gun conspicuously dangling from his belt. And she dodged the “hawker” trying to lure her into a jewelry store, who every day asked if she had gold to sell, even though every day she told him no.
Finally, Mimi reached her father’s building, 460 Fifth, the most popular address on “The Street.” After a few minutes standing and tapping her foot on the security line, she handed her driver’s license to the security guard and called out, “Rosen Diamonds.”
“Miss,” growled the guard with the oversized forehead who’d seen her three days a week for the past two months, “you should get a building ID. It’ll save you time in the morning.”
“It’s okay. I won’t be working here for long,” she chirped, though she wasn’t quite sure of that.
Next stop, the elevator bank. Mimi had an irrational fear of elevators; she was always worried she would die in one. She particularly hated these elevators, which were extremely narrow and perpetually packed. She envied those for whom a subway was their sole exposure to a cramped unpleasant space.
As the car rose, one occupant asked a Hasidic dealer how he was finding things.
“All you can do is put on your shoes. The rest is up to the man upstairs.”
Only in the diamond business. Mimi’s last job was thirty blocks away, yet in a different universe.
At each floor, dealers pushed and rushed like they were escaping a fire. When the elevator reached her floor, Mimi too elbowed her way to freedom.
As she walked to her father’s office, she marveled how the building, so fancy and impressive when she was a kid, had sunk into disrepair. The carpets were frayed, the paint was peeling, and the bathroom rarely contained more than one functioning toilet. If management properly maintained the building, they’d charge Midtown Manhattan rents, which small dealers like her father couldn’t afford. The neglect suited everyone.
She spied a new handwritten sign, “No large minyans, by order of the fire department.” Mimi produced a deep sigh. She had long ago left her religious background behind. Somehow, she was now working in a building where they warn against praying in the halls. She was going backward.
Perhaps the dealer in the elevator was right. You could only put on your shoes and do your best. She grabbed her pocketbook strap, threw her head back, and was just about at her father’s office when she heard the yelling.
“I’m so tired of waiting, Yosef! It’s not fair!”
Max’s receptionist, Channah, was arguing with her boyfriend, Yosef, a small-time, perpetually unsuccessfully diamond dealer. Making it more awkward: Yosef was Mimi’s cousin.
Channah and Yosef had dated for nearly eighteen months without getting married—an eternity in Channah’s community. Still, whenever Channah complained, Mimi remembered how her ex-husband only popped the question after three years and two ultimatums.
“Give me more time,” Yosef stuttered, as he tended to do when nervous. “I want to be successful in the business.”
“When’s that going to happen? The year three thousand?”
The argument shifted to Yiddish, which Mimi didn’t understand, though they were yelling so fiercely she didn’t need to. Finally, tall, skinny Yosef stormed out of the office, his black hat and suit set off by his red face. He was walking so fast he didn’t notice his cousin Mimi standing against the wall. Given the circumstances, she didn’t stop him to say hello. She watched his back grow smaller as he stomped and grunted down the hall.
Mimi gave Channah time to cool down. After a minute checking in vain for responses to her latest freelance pitch—editors weren’t even bothering to reject her anymore—she rang the doorbell. She flashed a half-smile at the security camera stationed over the door, and Channah buzzed her in. Mimi hopped into the “man trap,” the small square space between security doors that was a standard feature of diamond offices. She let the first door slam behind her, heard the second buzz, pulled the metal handle on the inner door, and said hello to Channah, perched at her standard spot at the reception desk.
Channah had long dark curly hair, which she constantly twirled; a round, expressive face, dotted with black freckles; and a voluptuous figure that even her modest religious clothing couldn’t hide.
“Did you hear us argue?” she asked Mimi.
“No,” she sputtered. “I mean—”
Channah smiled and pointed to the video monitor on her desk. “I could see you on the camera.” Her shoulders slouched. “It was the same stupid argument we always have. Even I’m bored by it.”
“Hang in there. We’ll talk at lunch.” Mimi and Channah shared a quick hug, and Mimi walked back to the office.
She was greeted by her father’s smile and a peck on the cheek. If anything made this job worthwhile, it was that grin. Plus the money.
“How are things this morning?”
“Baruch Hashem,” Max replied. Max said “thank God” all the time, even during his wife’s sickness, when he really didn’t seem all that thankful.
Sure enough, he added, “We’re having a crisis.”
Mimi almost rolled her eyes. It was always a crisis in the office. When Mimi was young, the family joke was that business was either “terrible” or “worse than terrible.”
Lately, her dad seemed more agitated than normal. As he spoke, he puttered in a circle and his hands clutched a pack of Tums. That usually didn’t come out until noon.
“I can’t find the two-carat pear shape.” He threw his arms up and his forehead exploded into a sea of worry lines. “It’s not here, it’s not there. It’s nowhere.”
Max Rosen was dressed, as usual, in a white button-down shirt and brown wool slacks, with a jeweler’s loupe dangling on a rope from his neck. His glasses sat off-kilter on his nose, and two shocks of white hair jutted from his skull like wings. When he was excited about something, like this missing diamond, the veins in his neck popped and the bobby-pinned yarmulke seemed to flap on his head.
Mimi stifled a laugh. That was the crisis? Diamonds always got lost in the office. As kids, Mimi and her two sisters used to come in on weekends and be paid one dollar for every stone they found on the floor. “They travel,” Max would say.
It was no surprise that things went missing in that vortex of an office. Every desk was submerged under a huge stack of books, magazines, and papers. The most pressing were placed on the seat near her father’s desk, what he called his “in-chair.”
When Mimi’s mother worked there, she kept a lid on the chaos. After her death, Max hired a few bookkeepers, none of whom lasted; two years later, the job had somehow fallen to Mimi.
Eventually, Channah found the two-carat pear shape, snug in its parcel papers, right next to the bathroom keys. The only logical explanation was that Max was examining it while on the toilet.
Max sheepishly returned to his desk. Mimi loved watching her father at work. She was fascinated by how he joked with friends, took grief from clients, and kept track of five things at once. It felt exotic and forbidden, like observing an animal in its natural habitat.
For the most part, they got along, which was no small thing. Over the years, there had been tense moments as he struggled to accept that she was no longer religious. Lately, he rarely brought the topic up, and she didn’t want him to. Her split from her non-Jewish ex probably helped.
On occasion, the old strains resurfaced, in subtle ways. Max’s desk was covered with photos—mostly of Mimi’s mom and her religious sisters and their religious broods. One time when Max was at lunch, Mimi tiptoed over to glance at them, and—not incidentally—check how many were of her. It made her feel silly, yet she couldn’t help herself. She was a professional nosy person.
She got her answer: out of about twenty photos, Mimi was in three, an old family photo and two pics from her sisters’ weddings. That was less than expected. She tried not to take it personally. She had no kids and her marriage was a bust. What was there to show off?
Mimi spent most of the morning deciphering her father’s books—a task made more difficult by his aging computer system, which regularly stalled and crashed. Her father’s “new” software was actually fifteen years old.
Sometimes she wished he gave her more substantial tasks to do. While her father would never say it, he didn’t consider the diamond industry a place for women, as it had always been male-dominated—even though, ironically, it catered mostly to females. That was fine with Mimi. She didn’t want to devote her life to a rock.
At 1 PM, Channah and Mimi headed for Kosher Gourmet, their usual lunch spot. Mimi always joked, “I don’t know if it’s kosher, but it’s not gourmet.”
In the two months Mimi had worked for her father, she and Channah had become fast friends, bonding over their shared love of mystery novels, crossword puzzles, and sarcastic senses of humor.
Channah was not Mimi’s typical friend. She was twenty-three and her parents were strictly religious, even more than Mimi’s. She commuted to Forty-Seventh Street every day on a charter bus from Borough Park, a frum enclave in Brooklyn. The Diamond District was her main exposure to the wider world. She reminded Mimi of her younger, more religious self, under her parents’ thrall yet curious what else was out there.
Mimi was not Channah’s typical friend either. During their lunches, Channah quizzed her on the taste of non-Kosher food (it didn’t taste any different, Mimi told her); sex (“When the time comes,” Mimi said, “you’ll figure it out”); and popular culture (“Can you explain,” Channah once asked, “why Kim Kardashian is famous?” Mimi just said no.) Today, as usual, they talked about Yosef.
“I don’t get it.” Channah wrapped sesame noodles around her white plastic fork. “I love him. He loves me. Why not get married?”
Mimi took a sip from her Styrofoam cup filled with warm tap water. She preferred bottled water but couldn’t afford it. “Have you thought of giving Yosef an ultimatum? Tell him if he doesn’t marry you by a certain date, that’s it.”
“Yosef wouldn’t take that seriously.” Channah turned her eyes to her tray.
“Why not?”
“Cause I’ve done that already. Three times! I backed down every time.” Her fork toyed with her food. “I believe it is beshert that Yosef and I will end up together. I’ve thought so since I first met him at your father’s office, and he smiled at me. What choice do I have?” Her elbow nudged her tray across the table.
“I understand why he’s waiting. He wants to be a steady provider. That’s a good thing, right?”
Actually, Mimi found it sexist. She didn’t say that, because she found many things in Channah’s world sexist.
“He just needs to sell that pink,” Channah said, spearing a dark brown cube of chicken.
Mimi took a quick sip of water. “That pink” was an awkward subject.
One month ago, Yosef had bought a three-point-two carat pink diamond. It was the biggest purchase of his career, the kind of high-risk move that could make or break his business. Max was overjoyed. “Do you know how rare pink diamonds are?” he exclaimed. “And it’s a three-carater! Sounds like a great buy!”
That was, until Yosef proudly presented it to his uncle Max, who inspected it under his favorite lamp, muttered “very nice,” and quickly handed it back.
It was only after Yosef left that Max dismissed his nephew’s score as a strop, a dog of a diamond, the kind of unsellable item that gathered dust in a safe.
“It has so many pepper spots,” Max lamented. “The color’s not strong at all. No one will buy that thing.”
“Maybe he got it for a good price,” Mimi said.
“I’m sure whoever sold it to him said it was the bargain of the century. Anytime someone offers me a metziah, that’s a sign they can’t sell the stone. There’s a saying, ‘your metziah is my strop.’” His face sagged. “I wish he talked to me first. That stone is worthless. I don’t have the heart to tell him.”
When Channah brought up the big pink at lunch, Mimi didn’t want to dwell on the subject. “What’s happening with that?” she asked, as casually as possible.
“Didn’t you hear?” Channah jerked forward. “It got the highest grade possible on its USGR cert.”
“You’ll have to translate.” Mimi tuned out most diamond talk.
“Cert is short for certificate, meaning grading report. The USGR is the U.S. Academy for Gemological Research, the best lab in the industry.”
Mimi just stared.
“That stone’s worth four million dollars.”
That Mimi understood. “Wow.” A lot of money for a dog of a diamond.
“Four point one million, to be exact.” Channah laughed. “Don’t want to leave that point one out!”
“I thought that stone was—”
“Ugly?” Channah chuckled. “Me too! I don’t understand how it got that grade. I guess it doesn’t matter. As your father says, ‘today the paper is worth more than the diamond.’” She slurped some diet soda.
“Is Yosef going to get four million dollars?”
“Who knows? He isn’t exactly an expert in selling such a stone. Your father convinced him to post it on one of the online trading networks. Someone called him about it yesterday.”
“That’s great!”
“Hopefully. If anyone could screw this up, Yosef could.” Channah’s mouth curled downward. “I keep checking my phone to see if there’s any news.” She flipped over her iPhone, saw nothing, and flipped it back. “The way I figure, if he sells that stone, he’ll have to marry me. Unless he comes up with some new excuse. He wouldn’t do that, right? Not after all this time. Would he?”
Mimi struggled to keep herself in check. She was dying to shake Channah and scream that if Yosef wasn’t giving her what she wanted, it was time to move on. She didn’t. Yosef was her cousin. Mimi was in no position to critique someone else’s love life. She always told people hers was “on hold.” It was basically non-existent.
Plus, she remembered how, weeks before her wedding, her friends warned her that her fiancé had a wandering eye. That just strengthened her resolve to marry him, even though in retrospect, they were right. “With situations like that,” her therapist said later, “I always recommend not to say anything. Just be a supportive friend.”
Mimi waited until Channah stopped speaking. She touched her hand. “I’m sure it will work out,” she said.
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Author Bio
Rob Bates has written about the diamond industry for over 25 years. He is currently the news director of JCK, the leading publication in the jewelry industry, which just celebrated its 150th anniversary. He has won 12 editorial awards, and been quoted as an industry authority in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and on National Public Radio.
He is also a comedy writer and performer, whose work has appeared on Saturday Night Live’s Weekend Update segment, comedycentral.com, and McSweeneys He has also written for Time Out New York, New York Newsday, and Fastcompany.com. He lives in Manhattan with his wife and son.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Mini Book Reviews for book #3, MURDER UNEARTHED and book #4, MURDER UNTIMELY in the Kat and Mouse Mysteries series by Anita Waller. I am catching up in this fabulous series because I have been allowed to read book #5 by Bloodhound Books before publication and will be sharing a blog post for that book shortly.
Below you will find book descriptions, my mini book reviews, the author’s bio and social media links. I love this cozy British mystery series! Enjoy!
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Book Description
Kat and Mouse are back in the latest instalment of the bestselling Kat and Mouse Murder Mystery Series!
When DI Tessa Marsden is called to a road traffic accident, she is disturbed by the crime scene she must investigate. She now has a double murder to contend with; two dead girls from the same village.
Realising the murders aren’t linked, Marsden summons the help of the Connection Investigation Agency, run by Kat, a church Deacon, Beth, (known affectionately as Mouse), a computer expert, and Doris, Beth’s feisty grandmother.
When it is discovered that one of the murdered girls was pregnant the case takes an unexpected turn.
Can DI Marsden, with the input of Kat and Mouse, solve the case before another body appears?
Meanwhile, the agency has been asked to track down the long lost son of Ewan Barker. Will Kat, Mouse and Doris find him and reunite him with his father?
This might just be their toughest investigation yet…
MURDER UNEARTHED (Kat and Mouse Mysteries Book #3) by Anita Waller is another great addition to this series. This is a British cozy mystery series that is unlike any American cozy series that I have read, not just in the truly British turn of a phrase or word usage, but while it truly is a cozy, with the murder behind the scenes, it is still written in a gritty and realistic way. All of these books can be read as standalones, but I love reading them in order to keep track of the characters’ growth and continuing interactions.
All of the ladies of Connection, Kat, Mouse (Beth) and Nan (Doris) are wonderful characters that keep me returning for more adventures. I also enjoy the tie-in with the local police, DI Tessa Marsden and DS Hannah Granger. Ms. Waller gives you intricately plotted cases for the P.I.s and the police to solve separately and together. With two teenage girls missing on the same day, all of the ladies were very busy and I was quite satisfied with the solution.
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Book Description
Kat and Mouse are back in the latest instalment of the bestselling Kat and Mouse Murder Mystery Series!
Early one morning, in the grounds of Chatsworth, a body is discovered by one of the estate groundsmen. DI Marsden and DS Granger battle through snow-covered roads to begin their investigation.
Meanwhile, at the Connection Investigation Agency, Doris, Kat and Mouse are busy juggling their caseloads, while trying to show their new trainee receptionist the ropes.
When the police learn that the body belongs to Nicola Armstrong, a resident of the nearby village of Baslow, it soon transpires that Nicola was the mother of a child who disappeared ten years prior to her murder.
Soon, the Connection investigators are brought in to help but when a second body is found at Chatsworth, the case takes a disturbing turn.
Can the police and the female sleuths get to the truth before more life is lost? Or is the fate of those involved already sealed?
MURDER UNTIMELY (Kat and Mouse Mysteries Book #4) by Anita Waller is a great addition to the series with some changes happening at Connection. This book can be read as a standalone, but all of the characters lives are as interesting and realistic as the mysteries and crimes, so I do recommend reading them in order for the greatest satisfaction.
Kat, Mouse and Nan have hired a new receptionist/investigative trainee, Luke. Luke fits right in with the ladies and loves the job as much as all of the ladies are happy with him. While DI Marsden and DS Granger work the cases of two murdered women, Doris takes Luke under her wing and oversees him on his first case for Connection.
Once again, Ms. Waller has written tightly plotted intertwining mysteries that kept me turning the pages. These books are cozies because the murders are behind the scenes, but everything else reads likes a realistic crime novel. The main characters are always intelligent and entertaining and the secondary characters keep me guessing. This is a must read series for me!
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Author Bio
Anita Waller was born in Sheffield, South Yorkshire in 1946. She married Dave in 1967 and they have three adult children.
She has written and taught creative writing for most of her life, and at the age of sixty-nine sent a manuscript to Bloodhound Books which was immediately accepted.
In total she has written seven psychological thrillers and one supernatural novel, and uses the areas of South Yorkshire and Derbyshire as her preferred locations in her books. Sheffield features prominently.
And now Anita is working on her first series, the Kat and Mouse trilogy, set in the beautiful Derbyshire village of Eyam. The first in the series, Murder Undeniable, launched 10 December 2018, and the second in the series, Murder Unexpected, launches 11 February 2019.
The trilogy has now been promoted to a quartet following the success of the first book; she is currently working on book three, Murder Unearthed. Book four doesn’t have a title, a plot, a first sentence… but she remains convinced it will have!
She is now seventy-three years of age, happily writing most days and would dearly love to plan a novel, but has accepted that isn’t the way of her mind. Every novel starts with a sentence and she waits to see where that sentence will take her, and her characters.
In her life away from the computer in the corner of her kitchen, she is a Sheffield Wednesday supporter with blue blood in her veins! The club was particularly helpful during the writing of 34 Days, as a couple of matches feature in the novel, along with Ross Wallace. Information was needed, and they provided it.
