Today is my turn on the Book ‘n’ All Promotions Blog Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE ASH LAKE MURDERS (Detective Alice Rossi Book #1) by Helen H. Durrant.
Below you will find a book blurb, my book review and the author’s bio and socila media links. Enjoy!
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Book Blurb
MEET DETECTIVE ALICE ROSSI IN THIS BRILLIANT NEW CRIME SERIES.
A female serial killer with a deadly agenda. The detective who must stop her. Luxury holiday lodges in the stunning Peak District. The game begins . . .
Callum is lured to an isolated boathouse by an attractive older woman. When she gets him alone, she knocks him out with a single blow. As he wakes up, her voice comes out of the darkness, “You’re a sprat to catch a mackerel.”
Surrounded by hills and lakes, Still Waters is home to a close-knit community of wealthy retirees. It’s an unlikely setting for violence. The police don’t take Callum’s disappearance seriously: he’s 24-years-old, after all. But Callum’s mother, a Still Waters resident, knows that something is very wrong.
Then a body is discovered floating in the lake. Head bashed in. But it’s not Callum.
And someone tweets:Come out to play one last time, Alice. Still Waters run deep. #MadHatter.
That’s when DCI Alice Rossi is called in. She’s back.
IT’S A CAT-AND-MOUSE GAME BETWEEN AN OBSESSED KILLER AND A DETERMINED DETECTIVE IN THIS GRIPPING MYSTERY FULL OF STUNNING TWISTS.
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THE DETECTIVE DCI Alice Rossi of Greater Manchester’s Serious Crime Squad has served with the police for the past twenty-nine years. Since the death of her husband, Paul, six years ago, she has lived alone in a large, three-storey Edwardian terrace on the outskirts of Manchester. Her grown-up son lives in Edinburgh with his family. Alice is about to retire — but she’s not looking forward to it. Since her husband died, work has been her mainstay, not because she misses Paul — he was a bad man — but because it keeps her dark thoughts at bay.
DETECTIVE RACHEL KING Book 1: NEXT VICTIM Book 2: TWO VICTIMS Book 3: WRONG VICTIM Book 4: FORGOTTEN VICTIM Book 5: LAST VICTIM
THE CALLADINE & BAYLISS MYSTERY SERIES Book 1: DEAD WRONG Book 2: DEAD SILENT Book 3: DEAD LIST Book 4: DEAD LOST Book 5: DEAD & BURIED Book 6: DEAD NASTY Book 7: DEAD JEALOUS Book 8: DEAD BAD Book 9: DEAD GUILTY Book 10: DEAD WICKED Book 11: DEAD SORRY
THE DCI GRECO BOOKS Book 1: DARK MURDER Book 2: DARK HOUSES Book 3: DARK TRADE Book 4: DARK ANGEL
MATT BRINDLE Book 1: HIS THIRD VICTIM Book 2: THE OTHER VICTIM
DETECTIVES LENNOX & WILDE Book 1: THE GUILTY MAN Book 2: THE FACELESS MAN
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My Book Review
RATING: 3 out of 5 Stars
THE ASH LAKE MURDERS (Detective Alice Rossi Book #1) by Helen H. Durrant is the first book in a new British police procedural mystery series featuring a more mature female lead character, DCI Alice Rossi.
A serial murderer known as the Mad Hatter has once again returned to taunt DCI Alice Rossi. Over the last six years, when a tweet is sent with the killer’s hashtag dead bodies begin to appear. This time the murders occur in a luxury holiday resort in the Peak District were Alice lost her husband to a climbing accident.
Once again, the obsessed killer has Alice in her sites, and she is determined to end the game this time with Alice’s death.
I am always excited to read Ms. Durrant’s books, but this story was a letdown for me. The police procedural plot kept me turning the pages more from wanting to know the killer’s motive than who she was because her identity was easily deduced early on in the book. I was expecting a plot twist that would shock me as Ms. Durant is very good at surprising me, but it did not happen. The surprise twist was just not believable. Alice’s experience and expertise are set up for use in future books in this series and I will be interested in reading more.
A good, quick read with an interesting protagonist, but not my favorite from this author.
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Author Bio
OVER 1 MILLION BOOKS SOLD!
Helen is one of the ‘baby boomer’ generation and began writing when she retired from her job at a local college. Born in Edinburgh to an English father and Scottish mother the family settled in a Pennine village between the counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire. It is an environment which has shaped her stories. Writing is a second career and, despite having a bus pass, keeps her busy, and tuned in.
Helen’s children are all grown-up and she has five grandchildren.
Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour and I will be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for VICE & VIRTUE (Parker City Mystery Book #2) by Justin M. Kiska.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Parker City, 1984…
Three years after the Spring Strangler case rocked the historic Western Maryland city nestled at the foot of the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, life has returned to normal for Detective Ben Winters and his partner, Tommy Mason. With a new chief now leading the department and the city slowly crawling out of its economic distress, everything seems to be moving in the right direction.
Until one sweltering summer day, a killer begins targeting police officers. Ben and Tommy find themselves once again leading an investigation the likes of which Parker City has never seen. The detectives quickly come to realize that until the shooter is found, everyone wearing a badge is in danger. To complicate matters even further, when a recently unearthed skeleton mysteriously connects to the string of police homicides, Ben and Tommy begin to think their current case may be tied to events twenty years earlier.
But how could a skeleton buried two decades ago hold the key to solving their current case?
Genre: Mystery Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: February 15, 2022 Number of Pages: 288 ISBN: 978-1-68512-069-6 Series: Parker City Mysteries, #2 || Each book is a stand alone novel.
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
VICE & VIRTUE (A Parker City Mystery Book #2) by Justin M. Kiska is an engaging and gripping mystery/crime thriller/police procedural in the Parker City Mystery series. I am very surprised after reading the first book in this series, Now & Then that there is even a second book. (When and if you read the first book, which I highly recommend, you will understand my surprise.) This book is easily read as a standalone.
As Parker City begins to revitalize and rebuild, a skeleton is found under an old, condemned warehouse. Detective Sergeant Ben Winters and his partner Detective Tommy Mason are called to the scene.
Just as they begin to investigate the discovered skeleton, they are called to the murder scene of a fellow law enforcement officer. The old case goes on the back burner when a second and third officer are killed. As Parker City is just getting over the serial killer case from three years ago, Ben and Tommy now have a cop killer on the loose.
Ben and Tommy realize until they solve this case, all of their fellow officers are in danger But what they only come to realize as they work the current case is that the old skeleton from the warehouse may be tied to their present day murders.
I am as impressed with this second book as I was with the first. Mr. Kiska is very adept at plotting two timelines that intertwine with plenty of plot twists and are as equally important to the solution of the detectives’ current cases in the 1980’s as the older case from the 1950’s. Both main characters, Detective Sergeant Ben Winters and his partner, Detective Tommy Mason are fully fleshed, realistic, and likable. Their dialogue and banter is believable and enjoyable. A few of the secondary characters are a bit cliché, but not so much as to detract from my enjoyment of the story.
I highly recommend this mystery/crime thriller with two detectives I want to continue to follow in any decade in future books.
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Excerpt
Tall and athletic, Tommy Mason always reminded Ben of Tom Selleck’s Magnum P.I. character from television. Tommy always had that whole ruggedly handsome thing going for him. Mixed with a little bit of a “bad boy” vibe and he drove the women wild.
Next to Ben’s clean-cut, buttoned-down appearance, their pairing caused many to do a doubletake. At first glance, they appeared to be complete opposites. But as one got to know them, they were very much alike. Each brought out the best in the other and at the end of the day, it was all about getting the job done. Sure, each had his own style, but that’s what made them such a formidable team.
Tommy’s apparent willingness to skirt the rules was always offset by Ben’s ability to find ways to use the rules to their benefit. Just as Ben’s refusal to play the internal politics game allowed Tommy to use his charm to keep too many feathers from getting ruffled amongst the powers-that-be. They each knew the other’s strengths and weaknesses and how to adapt them to their own, which is why they’d been so impressive in getting the PCPD’s Detective Squad off the ground.
“What are you doing here?” Ben asked, more than a little surprised to see his partner.
“Shirley from Dispatch called me. She thought I’d be interested,” Tommy explained. “And before you say anything about what I’m wearing, I just want to remind you, it is our day off, so I didn’t think I needed to get dressed up to come to a potential crime scene. Especially when we don’t actually know this is a crime scene yet.”
He was referring to the fact he had on a T-shirt and comfortable pair of jeans, as opposed to the full suit and tie Ben was wearing.
“Besides, now you don’t have to worry about getting your fancy suit muddy. I have no problems getting down there in the dirt,” Tommy smiled, pointing at the fresh mud stains on his knees. With that, he knelt back down to take another look at the exposed skeletal remains under the floorboards.
“So, tell me. What do we have?” Ben asked, crouching next to Tommy so he could get a better look.
“You can see there’s a pretty big cavity here under this part of the floor,” Tommy pointed out. “It’s got to be a good ten by ten area where the ground has been eaten away, even though it’s not too deep, less than a foot in some places. It’s definitely because of water…there’s a lot of mud down there. As the earth under the floor eroded, it uncovered the skeleton. Partway, at least. Of course, no one could see what was happening under here until our friend Mr. Haggarty had the unfortunate experience of stepping on a board that was rotted through and it snapped, sending him falling through the floor. You can see where he landed in the mud.
“And right there,” Tommy pointed, “you see the skull and top portion of the skeleton sticking out of the ground.”
“You came face-to-face with that thing, man?” Tommy looked over at the construction worker who was leaning against the wall. “Not a good way to start the day.”
“Yeah. You’re telling me,” Haggarty answered.
Turning back to the skeleton, Tommy said, “I’m no expert, but that hole in the skull right there…see it, it looks like it could be a GSW from a pretty heavy caliber gun.”
Leaning down and twisting his head so he could try and get a better look at the skull, Ben saw the hole and wondered if his partner was right. Finding a skeleton buried under the floor was one thing. Finding a skeleton buried under the floor with a bullet hole in its skull was something else. It took everything to a different level.
Standing and stretching their legs, Tommy said, “When Shirley first called me, I thought this was going to have been some kind of prank. Some kids snuck into the site on a dare and left a skeleton for the crew to find.”
“You thought kids somehow buried a skeleton under this building in the hopes someone would fall through the floor and find it?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. “Not to mention having to figure out how to bury the thing under the floor?”
“In my defense,” Tommy started, raising a finger and shaking it at his partner, “I didn’t know the skeleton was buried under the warehouse. I just knew they’d found a skeleton at the warehouse.”
The first thing that needed to happen was to get the skeleton out of the ground. That would be up to the crime scene techs. Even though he could easily reach in and pull the skull out to get a better look, Ben didn’t want to disturb anything more than it already had been when Lance Haggarty crashed through the floor. Thankfully, he hadn’t actually landed on the skull itself.
“So much for our day off,” Ben said, looking at his watch, wondering where the crime scene guys were.
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Author Bio
When not sitting in his library devising new and clever ways to kill people (for his mysteries), Justin can usually be found at The Way Off Broadway Dinner Theatre, outside of Washington, DC, where he is one of the owners and producers. In addition to writing the Parker City Mysteries Series, he is also the mastermind behind Marquee Mysteries, a series of interactive mystery events he has been writing and producing for over fifteen years. Justin and his wife, Jessica, live along Lake Linganore outside of Frederick, Maryland.
The fifth book in Joanna Schaffhausen’s heartpounding Ellery Hathaway mystery series.
Boston detective Ellery Hathaway met FBI agent Reed Markham when he pried open a serial killer’s closet to rescue her. Years on, their relationship remains defined by that moment and by Francis Coben’s horrific crimes. To free herself from Coben’s legacy, Ellery had to walk away from Reed, too. But Coben is not letting go so easily. He has an impossible proposition: Coben will finally give up the location of the remaining bodies, on one condition—Reed must bring him Ellery.
Now the families of the missing victims are crying out for justice that only Ellery can deliver. The media hungers for a sequel and Coben is their camera-ready star. He claims he is sorry and wants to make amends. But Ellery is the one living person who has seen the monster behind the mask and she doesn’t believe he can be redeemed. Not after everything he’s done. Not after what she’s been through. And certainly not after a fresh body turns up with Coben’s signature all over it.
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Elise’s Thoughts
Last Seen Alive by Joanna Schaffhausen shows why she is the master storyteller of serial killers. There is not a book she has written that is not terrifying, intense, and complex. She not only gets into the heads of the murderers, but also the victims. Readers will gain insight into what it is like to become a public figure because of circumstances beyond someone’s control, trying to find normalcy and privacy.
The prologue shows how FBI Agent Reed Markham and Boston Detective Ellery Hathaway have a long relationship. Seventeen years ago, he rescued fourteen-year-old Ellery, then known as Abby, from serial killer Francis Coben. This monster had kidnapped, tortured, and held her hostage in a closet for days. There were seventeen other victims that he tortured, mutilated, and killed.
Fast forward to current day when television celebrity and journalist Kate Hunter wants to interview Coben to supposedly get justice for the victims never found. But his one condition for the interview and to give up the location of the bodies is a face-to-face meeting with Ellery.
Coben is pure evil that lurks behind a normal face. He is one of the most terrifying psychopaths to ever appear in a thriller. Although the violence is not graphic, readers are able to understand his horrific crimes. He loves to get into Ellery’s head and knows that he will always be a part of her soul.
Ellery and Reed had a rocky relationship, first rescuer/rescuee, then friends to lovers, but never able to get out from what brought them together when they first met. Unfortunately, Ellery walked away from Reed to try to free herself from Coben’s legacy. Now they are back working together to find the other victims. The question for readers, will Reed and Ellery have their happy ending?
Although the crimes are dark, the author sets such a great pace that the book becomes a page turner that cannot be put down. There is something about serial killers that draws people to their stories. As with her other series and previous stories, Last Seen Alive, is part mystery, part character study. The conflicting emotions, the pain both physical and emotional, and the reality all play a part in the telling of this captivating thriller.
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Elise’s Author Interview
Elise Cooper: Were any of these characters based on real people?
Joanna Schaffhausen: Ellery, the victim, and Reed, the FBI agent are loosely inspired by two real people. Reed was based on Bob Keppel, the Seattle homicide detective who was on the job for one week when given the Ted Bundy case. At that time, they only knew there were missing women. The Ted Bundy case changed the trajectory of Keppel’s career. He ended up specializing in serial killers. He was one of a few law enforcement people who tried to get Bundy to confess to other crimes that they suspected, to give up the other bodies. Reed, as with Keppel, was a green law enforcement officer attached to one of the cases of the century.
EC: What about Ellery?
JS: She was loosely inspired by a woman named Carol DeRonch. Ted Bundy, pretending to be a policeman in Montana, abducted her at the age of eighteen. She was suspicious after he drove away from the police station. They struggled in the car, and she was able to escape. The day she escaped; Bundy found another woman who he killed. But being his first known living victim, Carol, was able to describe what he looked like and the car. Her survival allowed all the law enforcement officers in different states to put the clues together. Even though this is now more than forty years ago, she is still hounded by Ted Bundy enthusiasts. Although he is dead, he follows her around like a ghost. At this point she prefers to be left alone. People wanted to know more about her, to know more about what it was like, and even pretended to be fellow victims. The idea behind Ellery is that as a young person she was attacked and survived. But somehow her life is still about this horrible man. How do they find an identity for themselves when the worst thing that happened is perceived as the most interesting about them?
EC: How would you describe Ellery?
JS: As with Carol, they both had survivor’s guilt. But there is a lot of differences between Carol and Ellery. Abby was Ellery’s name when she was young, living in Chicago, deserted by her father, with a brother dying of cancer and a mother consumed by it. Abby had to fend for herself. After Coben got her, she grew up quick. She went with her middle name, Ellery, who sees herself as a separate person from Abby. She had dreams that were derailed. Ellery has a sense of loss. Even though Ellery survived, Abby died. They both end up with scars and recover from PTSD as she makes peace with what happened to her. Now for the first time she has healthy relationships. Ellery completes the healing journey for Abby.
EC: How would you describe Francis Coben, the serial killer?
JS: He has some elements that are Bundyesque. The infamy, the hunger for more, abducting young women with a lot of promise in their life. One of the reasons I write my books is that the public wants to make more of these awful men than is there to be found. This desire to imagine they are brilliant and charming when they have done horrific acts and should not be admired. I wanted to show like the others, Coben, is just this killing machine. The normal person and the monster live inside this one person. He compartmentalizes, is a habitual liar, narcissist, egomaniac, and sociopath. Coben is obsessed with Ellery, the one outstanding victim, the one who got away at the age of fourteen.
EC: How would you describe Reed?
JS: A people pleaser who wants to fix everything. Brilliant, charming, wants to be the hero. He grew up as the baby of all sisters. Being adopted, her was raised in a white family but he himself is white Hispanic. He feels the need to prove himself. He is also honest, caring, protective, has a stubborn streak, is a good cook, and enjoys playing the piano.
EC: Relationship between Reed and Ellery?
JS: I wanted to explore how the kidnapping and rescue was the worst thing that ever happened to her and the best thing that ever happened to him. The premise of the first book, The Vanishing Season, has them reunite after a decade and a half. Reed feels he is the hero of the story, catching Coben, and rescuing her. But after they reunite, he gets to see all the ways he did not save her. He participated in perpetuating Coben’s legacy by writing a book off her story. They are the only ones who know the truth about her story. They are a mirror of each other. She never has to explain anything to him. Both she and Reed can be themselves with each other that gives them a unique bond even with a 13 year age difference. Eventually they form a romantic attachment as adults.
EC: The journalistic quote by Ellery?
JS: You are referring to this one, “For years, people like you have sold my story and packaged my pain as entertainment. You set it to scary music and surround it with ads… You justify it by saying there’s a lesson here. We can learn about him. We can protect ourselves better in the future. Well, the fact that we’re here now, that you’re talking about giving him the stage and making him a big, big TV star… that proves you haven’t learned a thing at all.” People should be able to walk away and live their life in peace.
EC: My feeling about journalists is that they are mostly uncaring, self-centered, and ignore the truth. What about you?
JS: I think some can be described that way, but not all. I worked for seven years for ABC national news as an editorial producer. In general, I think they want to get it correct, especially the True Crime people. I have mixed feelings where True Crime runs the gamut from being offensive to being more thoughtful. Kate Hunter, the on-air journalist in the book, wants to milk the story between Ellery and Coben. She is looking for the big ratings grab. But does want to give the families justice for the victims that have never been identified. Readers will get the feeling that this is a secondary want for her.
EC: Next Book?
JS: For now, this is the last book in the series, because Ellery has completed the journey I intended her to complete. I originally conceived the idea for five books so there is no new book on the horizon. But I would like to hear from the readers if they would like more books. Please contact me at https://www.joannaschaffhausen.com/contact/
The new book in my other series, the sequel, is called Long Gone. It comes out in August 2022. Detective Vega blew up her life, both personally and professionally, at the end of the first book. Now she is called to the scene of a weird crime where a fellow police officer is shot dead. Present is his young wife who is unharmed. Vega comes up with a suspect who is dated by her best friend.
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.
A breakneck procedural that is beautifully written and masterfully crafted, Erin Young’s The Fields is a dynamite debut—crime fiction at its very finest.
Some things don’t stay buried.
It starts with a body—a young woman found dead in an Iowa cornfield, on one of the few family farms still managing to compete with the giants of Big Agriculture.
When Sergeant Riley Fisher, newly promoted to head of investigations for the Black Hawk County Sheriff’s Office, arrives on the scene, an already horrific crime becomes personal when she discovers the victim was a childhood friend, connected to a dark past she thought she’d left behind.
The investigation grows complicated as more victims are found. Drawn deeper in, Riley soon discovers implications far beyond her Midwest town.
THE FILEDS (Riley Fisher Book #1) by Erin Young is a gritty, dark, and intense start to a new police procedural crime thriller series featuring a rural American female police sergeant as the protagonist. This is a hunt for a serial killer and the author does not shy away from explicit crime scene descriptions which is fine for an ID and true crime lover as myself, but may be too graphic for some.
Newly promoted Sergeant Riley Fisher is to lead the Black Hawk, Iowa Sheriff’s Office Field Investigations Unit. A young woman is horrifically murdered and is found in a cornfield. When Riley arrives to investigate, she is shocked to discover the victim was a childhood friend.
As the investigation continues, so does the body count and the connection to Riley’s own dark past.
I really loved Riley and am very glad this is a series because there is still so much more I want to know about her. All the secondary characters are interesting and fully fleshed. I felt the police procedural plot was made more realistic with the missteps along the way instead of the usual step-by-step perfect investigation. The inclusion of government corruption and Big Ag interwoven throughout sometimes slowed the pace for me, but it was thought provoking. I will be interested to see where the author takes these characters in the future.
Overall, a strong start to a new police procedural crime thriller series with an intriguing new protagonist.
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About the Author
The Fields is Erin Young’s debut crime thriller, featuring Sergeant Riley Fisher of Black Hawk County, in the first of a planned series. Young lives and writes in Brighton, England.
December 6, 2021 – January 31, 2022 Virtual Book Tour
Hi, everyone!
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for THE BURDEN OF INNOCENCE (The Infantino Files Book #2) by John Nardizzi.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Private investigators Ray Infantino and Tania Kong take on the case of Sam Langford, framed for a murder committed by a crime boss at the height of his powers.
But a decade later, Boston has changed. The old ethnic tribes have weakened. As the PIs range across the city, witnesses remember the past in dangerous ways. The gangsters know that, in the new Boston, vulnerable witnesses they manipulated years ago are shaky. Old bones will not stay buried forever.
As the gang sabotages the investigation, will Ray and Tania solve the case in time to save an innocent man?
Genre: Mystery, Crime Noir Published by: Weathertop Media Co. Publication Date: December 5, 2021 Number of Pages: 290 ISBN: 978-1-7376876-0-3 Series: PI Ray Infantino Series, #2
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My Book Review
RATING: 5out of 5 Stars
THE BURDEN OF INNOCENCE (The Infantino Files Book #2) by John Nardizzi is a P.I. crime mystery/thriller set in South Boston with a hard-boiled, truth and justice seeking P.I. named Ray Infantino. While this is the second book in the series, it is very easily read as a standalone.
P.I. Ray Infantino is hired by the attorney of Sam Langford, who has declared his innocence from the day he was sentenced for murder fifteen years previously.
The gritty South Boston of fifteen years ago has changed as well as alliances. As Ray investigates Sam’s case, he is finding a vicious Southie gangster and a corrupt police officer are still working to manipulate the witnesses’ whose false testimonies sent an innocent man to prison.
Can Ray discover the truth from the past and help free an innocent man?
I love an old case investigation with a white knight trying to prove a miscarriage of justice. Ray is no innocent, but he cannot tolerate injustice in the law and corrupt officials who are supposed to uphold that law. This story has chapters that flashback to the original crime and witnesses interspersed as the present-day case unfolds and even with the timeline jumps, I was never confused or lost. The characters are fully fleshed and believable. The investigation is character driven rather than technology being the focus which was a joy to read for a change in pace. This is a realistic investigative page turner.
I can highly recommend this P.I. crime mystery/thriller!
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Excerpt
A SYSTEM OF JUSTICE
Boston Massachusetts
Chapter 1
Two burly guards from the sheriff’s department walked Sam Langford to the van. He noticed a newspaper wedged in a railing—his name jumped off the page in bold print: Jury to Decide Langford’s Fate In Waterfront Slaying. The presumption of innocence was a joke. You took the guilt shower no matter what the jury decided. He thought of his mother then, and the old ladies like her, reading the headline as they sipped their morning coffee across the city. He was innocent. But they would hate him forever.
A guard shoved Langford’s head below the roofline. He sat down in the cargo section, the only prisoner today. The guard secured him to a bar that ran the length of the floor, the chain rattling an icy tune. The van squealed off.
Langford’s head felt so light it could drift right off his shoulders. The van lurched, and he slid on the cold metal bench. The driver bumped the van into some potholes. Langford dug his heels into the floor. This was a guard-approved amusement ride, bouncing felon maggots off good ‘ol American steel. Sam had observed this man that morning. Something about his face was troubling. Sheriffs, guards, cops—most of them were okay. They didn’t bother him because he didn’t bother them. But cop work attracted certain men who hid their true selves. Men with a vicious streak that could turn an average day into a private torture chamber. These men were cancers to be avoided. Average days were what he wanted in jail. No violent breaks in the tedium.
The van careened on and stopped at a loading dock of the hulking courthouse, which jutted in the sky like a pale granite finger accusing the heavens. The last day of trial. Outside, Langford saw TV news vans and raised satellite dishes, the reporters being primped and padded for the live shot. The rear doors opened and the guard’s shaved skull appeared in silhouette. He tensed as the guard grabbed his arm and pulled him out. The guard wore a thin smile. “We’ll take the smooth road back. Just for you,” he muttered.
A clutch of photographers hovered behind a wall above the dock. Langford looked up at the blue sky, as he always did, focusing on breathing deeply. He would never assist, not for a minute, in his own degradation. He was innocent. He would not cooperate. Let them run their little circus, the cameras, the shouted questions, boom microphones drooped over his head to pick up a stray utterance. He leveled his jaw and looked past them. He knew he had no chance with them.
The guards walked him inside the courthouse and to an elevator. The chains clanked as they swung with his movement. They took the elevator to the eight floor where a court officer escorted the group into a hallway. Langford pulled his body erect toward the ceiling, as high as he could get. He intended to walk in the courtroom like some ancient Indian chieftain, unbowed. He was innocent and that sheer fact gave him some steel, yes it did.
The door opened and he stepped inside the courtroom. The gallery looked packed full, as usual. Cameras clicked. Low voices in the crowd hissed venom. “Death sentence is too good for you, asshole,” whispered one. He whispered a bit too loudly. A court officer wasted no time, hustling over and guiding the man to the exit.
Langford walked ahead, keeping his dark eyes focused. His family might watch this someday. Some ragged old news clip showing their son’s dark history. He struggled to keep the light burning behind his eyes. Something true, something eternal might show through. At least he hoped so. He had told his lawyer there would be no last-minute plea deal; he was innocent, and that was it.
As he walked, he felt the eyes of the crowd pick over him, watching for some involuntary tic that would betray his thoughts. But fear roiled his belly. He was afraid, no doubt. He knew the old saying that convicted murderers sat at the head table in the twisted hierarchy of a prison. But the fact remained—every prisoner walked next to a specter of sudden violence. He desperately wanted to avoid prison.
Keys rattled in the high-ceilinged courtroom as the officers unchained him. He rubbed his wrists and then sat down at the defense table. His defense lawyer, George Sterling, took the seat next to him. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a bright orange-yellow tie. The color seemed garish for the occasion.
“How you doing, Sam?”
“Hopeful. But ready for the worst.”
Sterling grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. But his eyes betrayed him. Langford got a sense even his lawyer felt a catastrophe was coming.
The mother of the dead woman sat one row away from his own mother. Even here, mothers bore the greatest pain. Both women stared at him. Langford nodded to his mother as she mouthed the words, “I love you”. He smiled briefly. He glanced at the mother of the dead girl but looked away. Her eyes blazed with hatred and pain. He wanted to say something. But the odds were impossible. The reporters would misconstrue any gesture; the court officers might claim he threatened her. He saw no way out. Even a basic act of human kindness became muddled in a courtroom.
A court officer yelled, “All rise.” The whispers died down, and the gallery rose. The judge came in from chambers in a black-robed flurry. The lawyers went to sidebar, that curious phenomenon where they gather and whisper at the judge’s bench like kids in detention. Then the judge signaled the sidebar was over and told the court officer to bring in the jury. The jurors walked to the jury box, every one of them fixed with a blank look on their faces. None of them met his eyes. One juror eventually looked over at him. He tried to gauge his fate in her flat eyes, the set of her face. But there was nothing to see.
As the judge and lawyers spoke, the lightheadedness left him. Everything came into focus. Langford watched the foreperson hand a slip of paper to a court officer. She took a few steps and handed the paper to the judge. The judge pushed gray hairs off her forehead, examined the paper and placed it on her desk. A silence descended. Shuffles of feet, small muted coughs. People waited for a meteor to hit the earth. The clerk read the docket number into the record and the judge looked over to the foreperson, a woman with long dark hair and glasses. “On indictment 2001183 charging the defendant Samuel Langford with murder, what say you madame foreperson, is the defendant not guilty or guilty of murder in the first degree?”
“We find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree.”
To Langford, the words seemed unreal, from a world away. A mist slid over his eyes. Gasps of joy, cries of surprise. A few spectators began clapping. The judge banged the gavel. Someone sobbed behind him, and this sound he knew; his mother was crying now openly. His body petrified. He couldn’t turn around.
Sterling put one hand on his shoulder, which snapped him back. The gesture irritated him. He didn’t want to be touched. Sterling’s junior assistant cupped his hand over his mouth. Sterling said something about the evidence, they would file an appeal. Langford stared at him. The reality of his new life began to emerge.
***
Author Bio
John Nardizzi is writer and investigator. His work on innocence cases led to the exoneration Gary Cifizzari and James Watson, as well as million dollar settlements for clients Dennis Maher and the estate of Kenneth Waters, whose story was featured in the film Conviction. His crime novels won praise for crackling dialogue and pithy observations of detective work. He speaks and writes about investigations in numerous settings, including World Association of Detectives, Lawyers Weekly, Pursuit Magazine and PI Magazine. Prior to his PI career, he failed to hold any restaurant job for longer than a week. He lives near Boston, Massachusetts.
Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for MURDER WORTH THE WEIGHT by D.M. Barr.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Whenever Terry Mangel’s body acceptance revival meeting rolls into town, local diet execs and “fat shamers” turn up dead, often in grotesque, ironic ways. All single murders in small suburbs, no one’s noticed a pattern, until rookie investigative reporter Camarin Torres takes a closer look.
Torres is a crusader against discrimination. She reluctantly accepts a job offered by handsome publisher Lyle Fletcher, a man with a vendetta, who sees the recent college grad as salvation for Trend, his fledgling fashion magazine. Torres, however, detests everything the publication stands for, and joins solely to transform its judgmental, objectifying content.
As an unexpected romance blossoms, the overconfident, justice-hungry reporter defies orders and infiltrates Mangel’s world, only to find herself in the crosshairs of a vigilante group targeting the $60 billion diet industry. To this vindictive mob, murder is definitely worth the weight. But as Torres soon learns, unmasking the killer may save her life but shatter her heart: every clue seems to implicate Fletcher, her mercurial mentor and lover, as the group’s mastermind.
MURDER WORTH THE WEIGHT by D. M. Barr is a thriller/mystery mash-up with a young female protagonist in her first journalism position after college on a crusade against discrimination. I am fast becoming of fan of D.M. Barr’s original characters and smart, witty dialogue. This is a standalone novel that I was sorry to see end.
Lyle Fletcher purchases a struggling gossip and style magazine and wants to take the magazine in another direction. He witnesses Camarin sticking up for another passenger being fat shamed at the train stop and is immediately taken with her and offers her a job. Camarin knows about Trend and does not want to work for them until Lyle tells her about his plans for change.
Camarin Torres lands the job of her dreams as an investigative journalist right out of college by standing up for a stranger. While she works to prove herself, she stumbles onto a pattern of murders of local “fat shamers” after Terry Mangel’s body acceptance revival rolls into each town. She is determined to uncover the truth, but the killer has other plans to eliminate Camarin’s threat and those she cares for.
I loved this story, and the way Ms. Barr handled the serious topic of body shaming in our culture. Camarin is a protagonist who is hard-working, intelligent, empathetic and flawed and all of these qualities make her quite memorable. The sub-plot romance with Lyle Fletcher was entertaining and very sexy, but I do wish the romance had not been with her boss. All the secondary characters are fully fleshed and believable. The plot starts out slowly setting up the murders and red herrings, but it continues to pick up speed and has two major twists before the conclusion.
This is an entertaining thriller/mystery mash-up with a memorable protagonist.
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Excerpt
Chapter 1
Camarin Torres peered down the tracks again, as if repeated checking would cause her delayed train to magically appear. It was a warm April afternoon, but the unexpected heat did little to lift her spirits. She was heading back to her apartment after yet another unsuccessful interview. If this kept up, she’d be the only one of her NYU friends graduating next month without a job lined up. How ironic not to be able to afford the food she wouldn’t allow herself to eat anyway. She checked her watch a third time. The 5:03 from White Plains to Grand Central was already ten minutes late.
Camarin heard a voice a few feet behind her softly exclaim, “Dammit!” Curiosity aroused, she spied a girl in her late teens standing by the vending machine, fervently searching through her handbag.
Camarin stared, mesmerized by what could have been a mirror image of her late twin sister Monaeka. Long, dark hair partially obscured her tanned, pretty face, and despite the temperature, she’d draped her two-hundred-plus pound body in an oversized raincoat. But as Camarin well knew, yards of fabric didn’t really fool anyone. The girl hunched over slightly, a stance her sister Monaeka had perfected, a sign of deference to a world demanding an apology for violating their arbitrary standards.
Camarin felt a familiar tug of compassion as the girl plunked a few coins into the machine and then searched for more. Looking on, she debated the merits of acquiescing to her own desire for a late-afternoon sweet. What’s really the harm? Cam reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out three quarters, which she held out toward the stranger as she walked toward her.
“Want to share something?”
The girl tensed and gave her a quizzical look, but after a moment her shoulders relaxed. “That’s so nice of you. Thanks.”
Camarin winked and pushed the quarters into the machine. One click and clunk later, she retrieved their prize—a Kit Kat bar. One of Monaeka’s favorites. As she held it out to the girl, a slim, stylish woman clad in black came out of nowhere and snatched the chocolate bar right out of her hand.
“You don’t need it,” she said. “You’ll thank me later.”
The girl’s face turned bright red, but she said nothing, just watched in shock as the thief continued down the platform.
Camarin felt the blood rush to her temples. No matter how many years and miles she’d put between herself and her past, the critical voices kept seeking her out, today in the form of this interloper. Enough, she decided. She set down the briefcase containing her resume and clips and tore after the woman, grabbing her arm and pulling her around so they stood face-to-face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Camarin yelled.
Heads turned. Conversations ceased.
“What’s it to you?” the offender shot back.
Camarin pointed at the girl, whose eyes were wide in disbelief. “That girl happens to be a friend of mine, so I’m asking a second time… what are you doing?”
“Saving her from herself, that’s what. Your friend is huge, and it’s unhealthy. If she can’t control herself, she needs others to do it for her.”
“Well, Miss High-and-Mighty, since you know everything about everyone, did you ever consider that my friend…Sabrina’s…size might have nothing to do with self-control? Could it be the result of…the lithium she takes to control her bipolar disorder? Are you a psychiatrist who has a better suggestion for more appropriate meds that don’t put on weight?”
“Well, no… no,” the woman stammered, as if the rush of passion suddenly drained from her, leaving her feeling exposed.
“You know what I think?”
The fat shamer glared back but remained silent, so Camarin summoned her courage and repeated herself, a few decibels louder. “I said, do you know what I think?”
“No. What?” The woman sneered.
“I think you should go over to Sabrina and apologize.”
“Apologize for helping her get thin?” Her voice dripped with indignation.
“No, apologize for sticking your big nose where it doesn’t belong,” interjected a young, beer-bellied man in overalls a few feet away. A Joe’s Plumbing patch was embroidered on his chest pocket.
“What exactly do we have to do to be accepted by you people? Why can’t you just leave us alone?” screamed a plump, older woman with perfectly coiffed hair and a fitted suit.
“Give her back the Kit Kat bar,” hollered a man clad in military garb, who then started chanting, “Kit Kat, Kit Kat, Kit Kat…” Others joined in, and the cacophony grew stronger.
“You may have grabbed a Kit Kat, but you ended up with Snickers,” said Cam with a smirk. “Maybe you want to just hand over the candy, so we can forget this whole ugly incident?”
The woman spat at the ground in front of Camarin and defiantly threw the chocolate bar on the tracks, eliciting loud boos from the small but agitated crowd. Then she ran down the platform, heading for the stairs that led to the parking lot.
“Good riddance,” the plumber called after her.
Camarin stood for a moment, shaking from the encounter. Then she returned to the now teary-eyed girl. “Sorry I made you bipolar,” she whispered. “I needed to make a point, and it was all I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Hi, I’m Camarin.”
“I’m Lexie,” the girl said. “No one has ever stood up for me before. Thank you.”
“Hey, I know what it’s like. I used to deal with jerks like that all the time.”
The plumber pushed a run of quarters into the vending machine and took out two Kit Kat bars, handing one to each of the women. Others on the platform clapped and cheered. The sound was slowly drowned out by the roar of the oncoming 5:03 PM train.
As the doors opened, Camarin noticed Lexie and the plumber now chatting animatedly. Not wishing to intrude, she entered the next car over. It was practically empty, not unusual considering most people were traveling in the opposite direction at this hour. A perfect opportunity to relax after an upsetting confrontation. Perhaps savor that chocolate bar. She could always purge later.
Given the plethora of unoccupied seats, she was surprised when a handsome man in an expensive-looking suit asked if the spot beside her was taken. She guessed he was in his early forties, since his face was too young for the silver in his hair and beard. He spoke with a confidence so lacking in her gawky college-boy contemporaries. She felt a shiver as the silk of his sleeve touched her bare arm as he settled in.
She wondered what clever icebreaker she could use to engage her attractive new neighbor in conversation. Nice weather, huh? would be too lame. Seconds passed. Other passengers shuffled by. Soon, the moment would be lost.
Then, to her delight, he leaned in covertly, as if sharing a private confidence. “Nice going. You’d never seen that girl before in your life, had you?”
She pulled back and studied his expression. Affable or accusatory? His smile assured her of his friendly intentions.
“What gave me away?”
“Nothing. Just a hunch. One you just confirmed.”
Camarin twisted her mouth, irked at having been so easily played.
“Do you always go around tricking strangers into confessing their secrets?” she asked.
“Probably as often as you go around defending the underdog.” The man winked. “Nothing to be ashamed of though. Quite the opposite. As I think you’ve already figured out, life is just a series of bluffs.”
Camarin considered the comment as the train rumbled along the tracks toward Scarsdale.
“And do you bluff much?”
“Funny you should ask. These days, it’s all I do.”
Grateful for such a provocative opening, she pressed forward. “That sounds intriguing. Care to elaborate?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he said with a smile. “Up until a few years ago, I’d spent my entire career practicing law. Then my circumstances and interests changed, and I decided to become a redeemer of lost causes. I just purchased a failing magazine, which I intend to make profitable again. If that’s not the bluff of the century, I don’t know what is.”
Elegant and he owns a magazine? Camarin’s heart skipped a beat.
“That’s such a coincidence. I’m just coming from an interview with a magazine.”
“Some might call it a coincidence. I call it kismet,” the man said as he held out his hand. “Lyle Fletcher, fledgling publisher.”
Chapter 2
As the train rolled down the tracks toward Manhattan, Camarin sensed her future suddenly lurching ahead as well. “Camarin Torres, journalism and prelaw major. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She reached out to shake his hand, eager to see if his grip would be as firm as she imagined, but the conductor interrupted, asking to punch their tickets. There was no way to try again without looking awkward, so she swallowed her disappointment and returned her hand to her side.
Fletcher broke the pregnant pause. “So, there must be many professions out there for someone as bold and beautiful as you. Why journalism and law?”
Camarin’s face grew warm. Had anyone else handed her that line, she would have regarded it as a come-on. But he seemed sincere, so she felt comfortable opening up. “All my life I’ve seen bullying and discrimination. As a child, I felt helpless to stop it. But as an adult, I can make a difference.”
“Bullying because of your ethnicity? You’re… ”
“My mother’s side of the family comes from Guam. But no, fortunately, I’ve encountered very little bias because of my roots. Maybe it’s because we live just outside Los Angeles, where I’m part of a large Chamorro community who share an intense sense of cultural pride. In fact, I think my background may have worked in my favor, that push for diversity in colleges and all.”
“So, discriminated against as a woman?”
“No again,” she said, reluctant to share too much of her past with a stranger, no matter how charming. “Let’s just say I’ve seen how cruel people can be to those who don’t quite fit in, no matter how hard they try. I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else ever again.”
“You’re going to personally end intolerance?” Fletcher seemed both dubious and amused.
“Well, at least make a sizeable dent in it,” she said with a smile. It wasn’t the first time that people had appeared incredulous at her idealism. “You’re speaking to the world’s first female Chamorro anti-discrimination crusader. After graduation anyway. And eventually law school, when I can afford it.”
“Lofty ambitions. You’ll need them in a world that doesn’t always cooperate with people’s dreams. Again, I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” she said, her face growing even hotter. A charismatic publisher thought she was impressive. A once-disappointing day was rapidly metamorphosing into something magical, like a child’s giant, colorful carnival balloon.
“Have you interviewed at my magazine, Trend?”
Pop! Camarin did her best not to cringe with contempt. Trend represented everything in the world she’d come to hate: the brainwashing of women to fit into narrow, permissible roles dictated by fashion designers and greedy advertisers. And this man, appealing or not, was one of their leaders. Camarin paused, trying to formulate a polite and diplomatic response.
“You have heard of it, right?”
“Yes, of course. But no, I didn’t interview there. No offense, but as you said, it’s failing. As a matter of fact, I turned down an unsolicited offer from one of your competitors, Drift. I’m just interested in more…serious publications.”
“No offense taken,” he said with a grin. “I realize that up to now Trend has just covered style and gossip—total fluff. That’s what I’m planning to change. In your words, go in a more serious direction.”
She wondered if the comment was authentic or if he was just another jerk and this was an excuse that allowed him to live with himself. They remained quiet for a bit, and then curiosity got the better of her.
“I didn’t realize Trend is based in Westchester.”
Fletcher’s face clouded over. “No, it’s in Manhattan. I was out here today because…my late wife owned a condo in White Plains that we’d been renting out. I was just meeting with the real estate agent I might hire to sell it for me.”
Cam looked down at her pumps, annoyed at herself for bringing up such a sensitive subject. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Of my wife or the condo?”
She glanced back, astonished. He started to laugh, and she felt the earlier harshness of her judgment soften by a smidgen. He really was quite charming—for a body shamer.
“Are you ever serious?” she asked.
“Oh, when I am, you’ll definitely know it. Like now. How many years of college do you have left?”
His tone switched from whimsical to all business, and something about the way he commanded control sent a shiver up her spine. Hot as hell. Dammit. “About a month. Then I’m done.”
The conductor announced that they would soon be arriving at Grand Central Station, their final destination, and the windows grew dark as they entered the tunnel.
He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a business card. It read Trend Magazine, with a fashionable NoHo address, close to her own apartment.
She held up her hand. “That’s kind of you, but I really don’t think—”
“Hey, I can see you’re not enamored with our current format. Nevertheless, I’d still like you to come in, show us your work. Allow us to describe the magazine’s revamped editorial direction. I think it may surprise you. I can use someone with your guts and ambition to develop our investigative-reporting beat. That is, if you have any interest.”
She took the card, slipping it into her jacket pocket. “If you’re really serious about moving away from your current focus, I’ll try to keep an open mind.” After all, a job was a job, and up to now, no one else but Drift had made an offer.
“Call tomorrow and speak to Rachel. She’ll set everything up. You’re going to be a superstar. Of that, I’m already certain.” He reached out to shake her hand. It felt as forceful as Camarin had imagined earlier. She didn’t try to read anything into the almost imperceptible squeeze he added at the end. Until proven otherwise, he was still the enemy.
As he rose and headed for the exit, she waited a few beats longer before also joining the crowd jostling toward the platform. By the stairs a newsstand featured the latest issue of Trend. Hating herself, she slapped down her $3.50 for a copy. Magazines like this were part of what had driven her sister over the edge, but she needed to see if there was anything redeemable within its pages. The jury was still out until Lyle Fletcher had proven himself a reformer, and not an enabler.
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Author Bio
By day, a mild-mannered salesperson, wife, mother, rescuer of senior shelter dogs, competitive trivia player and author groupie, happily living just north of New York City. By night, an author of sex, suspense and satire. My background includes stints in travel marketing, travel journalism, meeting planning, public relations and real estate. I was, for a long and happy time, an award-winning magazine writer and editor. Then kids happened. And I needed to actually make money. Now they’re off doing whatever it is they do (of which I have no idea since they won’t friend me on Facebook) and I can spend my spare time weaving tales of debauchery and whatever else tickles my fancy. The main thing to remember about my work is that I am NOT one of my characters. For example, unlike as a real estate broker, I’ve never played Bondage Bingo in one of my empty listings. As a yo-yo dieter, I’ve never offed anyone at my local diet clinic. While I’m a bit paranoid, I’ve never suspected my husband of wanting to murder me for my inheritance. Well, that’s not entirely true, but let’s go with that for now. And while I’ve volunteered at senior centers, I’ve never mastered the hula hoop. But that’s not to say I haven’t wanted to…
