Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SONG GIRL: A Mystery in Two Verses by Keith Hirshland on this Virtual Authors Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Detective Marc Allen is ready to leave the Raleigh, North Carolina, Police Department. Two murders that happened on his watch have apparently been solved thanks to a suicide note confession written by a distraught father. But Allen isn’t buying it. He’s convinced that the man’s adopted daughter, Teri Hickox, is the one responsible for the heinous crimes. With his personal life a muddle and his professional career unsettled he decides the best thing for him is a change of scenery.
The detective, now in Colorado Springs, is working new cases and making new friends. One of those friends is Hannah Hunt who, after suffering a freak accident, finds herself only able to speak in song titles. Another is a mysterious drifter who lives out of an old Dodge van and goes by “the champ”. But as Allen builds a new future, events unfold showing him that he can’t escape his past.
SONG GIRL: A Mystery in Two Verses by Keith Hirshland is an engaging character driven mystery/police procedural. The main protagonist as well as a few other characters are carried over from the previous book, The Flower Girl Murder, but because this story isin a new location with a new crime mystery, it is easily read as a standalone novel.
Detective Marc Allen is ready for a change in his life. He decides to move from Raleigh, NC to Colorado Springs. CO. He is working with new colleagues on new cases in the police department and he is also making new friends in his personal life.
At the same time, an old case from Raleigh which was supposedly solved with a suicide note becomes active again. Marc was never happy with the case resolution, and he seems to be right. The man left notes for his adopted daughter, and they suggest she is the real killer and when the Raleigh police look for her, they find she has disappeared.
Marc finds building his new future may only be possible if he can resolve his past.
This story is written with wonderful characters that are fully developed and woven together throughout the story. The reader is continually surprised by how each character’s past and revelations fit into the story and effect the present. Marc is trying to build a new life with his new puppy and friends. He is an intelligent and diligent detective that I really like. The secondary characters are all unique and bring not only intrigue, but humor to the story. The plot moves slowly at first as all the players’ histories and pieces of the puzzle are intertwined, but as the plot moves forward the pace picks up. The book was impossible to put down and delivers a big twist at the end.
I highly recommend this fascinating mystery.
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Excerpt
Hannah decided the best place to have that drink was the bar at the Rabbit Hole so that’s where she went. Dirk wasn’t working and a bartender she didn’t know was.
“Bartender,” she said sitting down.
“Customer,” the bartender said with a smile. “Day drinking?” she asked.
“Does anybody really know what time it is?” Hannah said. This is kinda fun she thought.
“Does anybody really care?” the bartender added.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“What can I get you?”
“One bourbon, one scotch, one beer.”
“You having a record year?”
“You have no idea.”
“I’ll get your drinks, George Thorogood. By the way you’re a riot.” Hannah’s phone rang; she saw it was Ramp.
“Hi there.” Rampart heard the background noise. “You in a bar?”
“You may be right. Everybody’s drinkin’.”
“Are you at the Rabbit Hole or in a Billy Joel song?” he asked.
“Both.”
“Go slow, we’ll meet you there soon.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” She said and hung up.
“What the heck was that?” Rampart said to his phone. Then he called Tracey back.
“We need to rally the troops,” he said after she had answered.
“Why? What’s up?”
“Hannah’s already at the Rabbit Hole,” he answered and hung up.
In short order Rampart and Tracey made it to the bar, greeted Hannah and ordered drinks. Allen arrived a few minutes after that.
“What’s your pleasure?” the bartender asked him as he sidled up next to Rampart.
“What’s everybody else having?”
“Beer,” she pointed at Ramp. “Ketel One Cosmo,” Tracey was next. “And song girl there is all over the map.” Allen looked at Hannah.
“Song girl?” he said. She just shrugged her shoulders so he turned back to the bartender. “I’ll have a Mad Hatter,” he indicated, asking for the establishment’s signature Manhattan.
“My fav,” she said, walking away. A minute later she was back and setting a glass in front of him. Allen picked it up.
“To Hannah,” he said, “glad you’re back among the living.”
“Salute,” Rampart said, lifting his beer.
“Kampai,” Tracey added.
“Let’s have a party!” called Hannah. They all clinked glasses. They shared some laughs and then some appetizers and about an hour in Hannah had had enough.
“I’m outta here,” she said, standing up.
“So soon?” Tracey asked.
“No time like the present.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” Rampart offered.
“Don’t be silly,” she declined, “I’m walkin’.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“See ya Hannah,” Tracey said.
“Take it easy, young lady,” Allen added.
“I’ll call you later,” her brother told her as she started to walk away.
“I’ll be around,” Hannah sang as she headed up the stairs.
“Okay does anybody else think that was incredibly weird?” Rampart asked after Hannah had gone.
“What?” Tracey wondered.
“Hannah, that’s what. The way she talked, the way she acted, what she said. All of it. It was weird.”
“Well Ramp she did just come out of a coma,” Allen argued.
“I realize that and I said that to myself but something is going on.”
“Like what?” Tracey asked.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy butshe’s talking in song titles! Didn’t you notice?”
“I did,” it was the bartender.
“You two are imagining things,” Allen countered.
“Am I? Are we?” He pointed at the bartender. “She called her song girl. And when I spoke with Hannah on the phone earlier, she was here. She said, and I quote, ‘You may be right.’ And then she said—”
“End quote,” the bartender said.
“Excuse me?” Ramp asked.
“You didn’t say end quote after ‘right.’ You said ‘and I quote’ but you didn’t ever say end quote.”
“Seriously?”
“And you were right, she was here.” Tracey chimed in.
“Just stop!” Rampart raised his voice. “When she left she sang ‘I’ll be around.’ That’s an old Spinners song!”
“Ooh, I love that song,” Tracey smiled. “Joan Osborne sang it too.”
“So did Hall and Oates, I think,” the bartender added.
“You people are impossible!” Rampart threw up his hands.
“I’ll have one more Mad Hatter,” Allen told the woman behind the bar.
♪♫♪
***
About the Author
Keith Hirshland is an Emmy Award–winning sports television producer with more than three decades of experience producing live and pre-recorded programs that aired on ESPN and ESPN2. Among the first forty people to be hired by the Golf Channel in 1994, Hirshland was in the middle of the action when that network debuted in 1995. He provided his talents for Golf Channel, as its live tournament producer, for two decades.
Cover Me Boys, I’m Going In: Tales of the Tube from a Broadcast Brat is a memoir about his experiences in the television industry. Published by Beacon Publishing Group, Cover Me Boys was recognized as the Book Talk Radio Club Memoir of the Year. Hirshland’s second book, and first work of fiction, Big Flies, was published in 2016 and is the recipient of the New Apple Awards “Solo Medalist” in the True Crime Category. Hirshland followed that success with his third book, The Flower Girl Murder. In 2020 Beacon Publishing Group released Murphy Murphy and the Case of Serious Crisis, Hirshland’s third mystery novel. It was a Top Shelf Magazine First Place award winner and was named the Book Talk Radio Club Book of the Year for 2020.
Song Girl Hirshland’s fifth book is the sequel to The Flower Girl Murder and was released in January of 2022. All five books are available at www.keithhirshland.com, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other bookstores.
Keith Hirshland lives in Colorado with his wife and their Pyredoodle Mac.
I am very excited to once again be posting on the HTP Winter 2022 Mystery & Thriller Blog Tour. Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE WRONG VICTIM (A Quinn & Costa Thriller Book #3) by Allison Brennan. I have already reviewed and loved the first two books in this series and am happy to share this blog post for book #3, also.
Below you will find an author Q&A, an about the book section, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Author Q&A
1.What type of research do you do when thinking of and writing your novel? The Wrong Victim uses both the FBI and local police department, do you speak with individuals who actually work in these fields?
I love research. It started long before I published my first book — I read true crime, watched true crime documentaries, read about current events. Once I was published, I found experts willing to talk to me! In 2008, I participated in the FBI Citizens Academy, and to this day the Public Information Officer (now retired) is happy to answer my questions. I’ve toured Quantico, visited the morgue (twice!) and viewed an autopsy, been on several ride-alongs with local police and sheriff, and have several people across all areas of law enforcement to ask questions. In fact, my oldest daughter is now a police officer, and she’s working on getting me a ride along in a specific precinct where I plan to set a future book. She also connected me with a K-9 officer when I was writing a short story about a retired K-9.
For THE WRONG VICTIM, I reached out to a writer friend of mine who is a retired ATF agent — he was instrumental in helping me with the explosives.
I write fiction and take a lot of liberties with the information I learn. However, I want to be as realistic as possible. To me, as long as what I’m writing is plausible, then I’ll go with it. I write to entertain first and foremost, and sometimes too many forensic details or investigative facts can slow down a story. I’m always seeking to find the right balance.
2. How do you decide where to base your story? This book is based in the San Juan islands and I know Matt Costa’s special team travels.
The premise of the Quinn & Costa mobile response team series is that they are a well-trained group of FBI agents who travel to small, rural, and underserved communities — places where local police may not have the resources to handle a complex investigation such as a serial killer or, in the case of THE WRONG VICTIM, an explosion. So I look for places where setting fits the story. For this book, I had the idea first — a charter boat explodes, who was the intended victim? So that told me I needed a remote, water-based community and looked on a map. The San Juan Islands immediately drew me in, and after reading about the area, I quickly made the decision. I had planned to visit before I wrote the book, but alas, 2020 was not a year for travel, and so I relied on interviews and the internet for information.
3. Do you travel or visit the places you write about first?
If I can, but unfortunately, sometimes that isn’t possible. That’s when research and interviews come in handy!
One of my earlier books, I thought I had researched very well — even talking to people who lived in the region (Seattle) and looking extensively on maps. But I made a mistake about how to get from Point A to Point B and a reader pointed it out. Now I take much more care in making sure I get these details right if I’m writing about a place I don’t know well.
I had wanted to visit the San Juan Islands before writing THE WRONG VICTIM — not just for the book, but because I’d always wanted to go there. Unfortunately, 2020 happened and that wasn’t possible. The book I recently finished writing, the currently untitled fourth Quinn & Costa book, takes place in the bayou in Louisiana. I’ve been to Louisiana many times, and my best friend lives there. While I created a fictional town, I drew upon my personal knowledge and the help of my bestie!
4. How did you come up with your idea for a loaned LA officer who cannot return due to her undercover work?
When I was writing the first Quinn & Costa book, Kara Quinn — the Los Angeles detective on leave — wasn’t going to be a series character. She was going to be a catalyst of sorts for Matt Costa, the team leader. So creating her character, I thought it would be fun to have her as an undercover detective, someone has a unique skill set that would be valuable in Matt’s current investigation.
Well, by the time I finished writing the book, I knew Kara had to return. I just loved her character and felt she had the most growth to do in the series, plus would provide a different perspective to the crimes because of her background. I didn’t know even after I finished writing the book how or why she was going to be on loan to the FBI, I had to sit on that for a few days until I worked out something that made sense to me.
5. How do you decide which books become a series versus a stand alone story?
This is a great question!
For me, all stories — stand alone or series — start with character. Without compelling, interesting, and complex characters, the story falls flat.
In a series, the characters must be interesting enough that readers will want to revisit them and see them in different situations. This is why police procedurals and amateur sleuths truly lend themselves to series books. You like the world, the characters, how they grow over time and want to revisit them over and over and see what’s going on in that world. The same way, I think, television viewers like favorite shows. The plots are interesting and often twisty, but readers (or viewers) really return to find out what happens to the people we’ve grown to love and hate and worry about.
So when I have an idea that is predominately character based — a team of FBI agents, for example — I focus on making those people as real and authentic as possible with an eye toward how they are going to grow and develop over multiple stories. I still want to have a strong plot — so I put them in situations or solving cases that are dangerous or interesting. By the end of the book, I want my characters to learn something about the team or themselves, to grow in some way, however small it might be. I want the series books to stand alone — so new readers can find the books in the middle of the series — while also giving regular readers a character growth arc from book to book.
For a stand alone, while characters are ALWAYS going to be important, they are there for one story only. They need to have a complete character arc from beginning to end so that the reader is fully satisfied at the story conclusion. Plot is important in both types of stories, but in a stand alone the situation/plot provides a stronger framework and backbone than in a series. There is often a universal theme that resonates, that is in some ways bigger than the story itself. Stand alones, at least for me, are about ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances — so readers wouldn’t expect those characters to return in a different story.
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About the Book
A bomb explodes on a sunset charter cruise out of Friday Harbor at the height of tourist season and kills everyone on board. Now this fishing and boating community is in shock and asking who would commit such a heinous crime—the largest act of mass murder in the history of the San Juan Islands.
Was the explosion an act of domestic terrorism, or was one of the dead the primary target? That is the first question Special Agent Matt Costa, Detective Kara Quinn, and the rest of the FBI team need to answer, but they have few clues and no witnesses.
Accused of putting profits before people after leaking fuel endangered an environmentally sensitive preserve, the West End Charter company may itself have been the target. As Matt and his team get closer to answers, they find one of their own caught in the crosshairs of a determined killer.
THE WRONG VICTIM (A Quinn & Costa Thriller Book #3) by Allison Brennan is another great addition to this this series. The Mobile FBI Team is back together for a for an investigation on the San Juan Islands that kept me turning the pages to the exciting conclusion. This book can be read as a standalone, but I believe the series is best read in order to completely understand the team’s dynamics.
An explosion on a charter cruise ship kills nine people. When the Mobile FBI Unit gets to the island, they have a multitude of suspects. The part-time captain is retired FBI and investigating an old case that he believes is not an accident, but murder, the charter company has daily environmental protestors, and the widow of one of the men killed is set to inherit millions with his death.
As the team investigates each lead, they are also dealing with tension within their group. Kara and Catherine are both on site for this investigation and they are having problems working together. With Matt’s history with Catherine and his secret personal relationship with Kara, everyone is trying to decide how and if they can work together.
The interpersonal relationships between team members are fully fleshed out with real issues and flaws that lead to believable characters that could walk right off the page whether you like them or not. The secondary characters on the island are also realistically portrayed. The individual plot lines are intricate and masterfully woven together into a storyline that kept me turning the pages all the way to the conclusion.
I highly recommend this crime thriller and the entire series! I am looking forward to more.
***
Excerpt
Jamie already regretted leaving Friday Harbor.
She listened to Cal’s message twice, then deleted it and cleaned up after dinner. Hazel was watching her half hour of PAW Patrol before bath, books, and bed.
Her dad’s remote house near Rogue Harbor was on the opposite side of the island from where they lived. Peaceful, quiet, what she thought she needed, especially since her dad wasn’t here. He was an airline pilot and had a condo in Seattle that he lived in more often than not, coming up here only when he had more than two days off in a row.
She left because she was hurt. She had every right to be hurt, dammit! But now that she was here, she wondered if she’d made a mistake.
Cal hadn’t technically cheated on her. But he also hadn’t told her that his ex-girlfriend was living on the island, not until the woman befriended her. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it except for the fact that Cal had hidden it from her.
She had a bad habit of running away from any hint of approaching drama. She hated conflict and would avoid it at all costs. Her mother was drama personified. How many times had young Jamie run to her dad’s house to get away from her mother’s bullshit? Finally when she was fifteen she permanently moved in with her dad, changed schools, and her mother didn’t say squat.
“You should have stayed and talked it out,” she mumbled to herself as she dried the dishes. The only bad thing about her dad’s place was that there was no dishwasher.
But Cal was coming to see her tonight. He didn’t run away from conflict. She wanted to fix this but didn’t know how because she was hurt. But he had to work, so she figured she had a few hours to think everything through. To know the right thing to do.
“Just tell him. Tell him how you feel.”
Her phone buzzed and at first she thought it was an Amber Alert, because it was an odd sound.
Instead, it was an emergency alert from the San Juan Island Sheriff’s Office.
19:07 SJSO ALERT! VESSEL EXPLOSION ONE MILE OUT FROM FRIDAY HARBOR, INJURIES UNKNOWN. ALL VESSELS AVOID FRIDAY HARBOR UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
Her stomach flipped and she grabbed the counter when a wave of dizziness washed over her.
She turned on the small television in the kitchen and switched to the local news. She watched in horror as the news anchor reported that a West End Charter yacht had exploded after leaving for a sunset cruise. He confirmed that it was the Water Lily and did not know at this time if there were survivors. Search and rescue crews were already out on the water, and authorities advised all vessels to dock immediately.
Cal had been scheduled to work the Water Lily tonight.
Hazel laughed at something silly on PAW Patrol. Jamie caught her breath, then suddenly tears fell. How could—? No. Not Cal. She loved him and even if they had problems, he loved Hazel more than anything in the world. He was the best father she could have hoped for. Hazel wasn’t planned, but she was loved so much, and Cal had made it clear that he was sticking, from the very beginning. How could she forget that? How could she have forgotten that Cal had never made her feel inadequate, he’d never hurt her, he always told her she could do anything she wanted? He was always there for her…when she was bedridden with Hazel for two months. When she broke her wrist and Hazel was still nursing, he held the baby to her breast every four hours. Changed every diaper. He sang to Hazel, read her books, giggled with her in makeshift blanket forts when thunder scared her.
And now he was gone.
There could be survivors. You have to go.
She couldn’t bring Hazel to the dock. The search, the sirens, the fear that filled the town. It would terrify the three-year-old.
But she couldn’t stay here. Cal needed her—injured or not, he needed her and she loved him. It was as simple as that. Rena would watch Hazel so Jamie could find Cal, make sure he was okay.
“Hazel, we’re going home.”
“I wanna sleep at Grandpa’s!”
“I forgot to feed Tabby.” Tabby was a stray cat who had adopted their carport on cold or rainy nights. He wouldn’t come into the house, and only on rare occasions would let Jamie pet him, but she’d started feeding him. Hazel had of course named him after a cat on her favorite show.
“Oh, Mommy! We gotta go rescue Tabby!”
And just like that, Hazel was ready.
Please, God, please please please please make Cal okay.
*
Ashley Dunlap didn’t like lying to her sister, but Whitney couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, and if Whitney said one word to their dad about Ashley’s involvement with Island Protectors, she’d be grounded until she graduated—and maybe even longer.
“We’re going to be late,” Whitney said.
“Dad will understand,” Ashley said, looking through the long lens of her camera at the West End Charter boat leaving port. She snapped a couple pictures, though they were too far away to see anything.
She was just one of several monitors who were keeping close tabs on West End boats in the hopes that they would catch them breaking the law. West End may have been able to convince most people in town that they had cleaned up their act, and some even believed their claims that the leakage two years ago was an accident, but as the founder of IP Donna Bell said time and time again, companies always put profit over people. And just because they hadn’t caught them breaking the law didn’t mean that they weren’t breaking the law. It was IP who documented the faulty fuel tanks two years ago that leaked their nasty fuel all over the coast. Who knows how many fish died because of their crimes? How long it would take the ecosystem to recover?
“Ash, Dad said not a minute past eight, and it’s already seven thirty. It’s going to take us thirty minutes just to dock and secure the boat.”
“It’s a beautiful evening,” Ashley said, turning her camera away from the Water Lily and toward the shore. Another boat was preparing to leave, but the largest yacht in the fleet—The Tempest—was already out with a group of fifty whale watching west of the island in the Haro Strait. Bobby and his brother were out that way, monitoring The Tempest.
Ashley was frustrated. They just didn’t have people who cared enough to take the time to monitor West End. There were only about eight or nine of them who were willing to spend all their free time standing up to West End, tracking their boats, making sure they were obeying the rules.
Everyone else just took West End’s word for it.
Whitney sighed. “I could tell Dad the sail snagged.”
“You can’t lie to save your life, sis,” Ashley said. “We’ll just tell him the truth. It’s a beautiful night and we got distracted by the beauty of the islands.”
Whitney laughed, then smiled. “It is pretty, isn’t it? Think those pictures are going to turn out? It’s getting a little choppy.”
“Some of them might,” she said.
Ashley turned her camera back to the Water Lily. The charter was still going only five knots as they left the harbor. She snapped a few pictures, saw that Neil Devereaux was piloting today. She liked Neil—he spent a lot of time at the Fish & Brew talking to her dad and anyone else who came in. He’d only lived here for a couple years, but he seemed like a native of the small community. She’d talked to him about the pollution problem from West End, and he kept saying that West End fixed the problem with the old tanks and he’d seen nothing to suggest that they had other problems or cut corners on the repairs. He told her he would look around, and if anything was wrong, he’d bring it to the Colfax family’s attention.
But could she believe him? Did he really care or was he just trying to get her to go away and leave West End alone?
Neil looked over at their sailboat, and both she and Whitney waved. He blew the horn and waved back.
A breeze rattled the sail, and Whitney grabbed the beam. “Shit!” she said.
Ashley put her camera back in its case and caught the rope dangling from the mast. “You good, Whit?”
“Yeah, it just slipped. Beautiful scenery is distracting. I got it.”
Whitney bent down to secure the line, and Ashley turned back toward the Water Lily as it passed the one-mile marker and picked up speed.
The bow shook so hard she thought they might have hit something, then a fireball erupted, shot into the air along with wood and—oh, God, people!—bright orange, then black smoke billowed from the Water Lily. The stern kept moving forward, the boat in two pieces—the front destroyed, the back collapsing.
Whitney screamed and Ashley stared. She saw a body in the water among the debris. The flames went out almost immediately, but the smoke filled the area.
“We have to help them,” Ashley said. “Whitney—”
Then a second explosion sent a shock wave toward their sailboat and it was all they could do to keep from going under themselves. Sirens on the shore sounded the alarm, and Ashley and Whitney headed back to the harbor as the sheriff’s rescue boats went toward the disaster.
Taking a final look back, Ashley pulled out her camera and took more pictures. If West End was to blame for this, Ashley would make sure they paid. Neil was a friend, a good man, like a grandfather to her. He…he couldn’t have survived. Could he?
She stared at the smoking boat, split in two.
No. She didn’t see how anyone survived that.
Tears streamed down her face and as soon as she and Whitney were docked, she hugged her sister tight.
I’ll get them, Neil. I promise you, I’ll prove that West End cut corners and killed you and everyone else.
ALLISON BRENNAN is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over thirty novels. She has been nominated for Best Paperback Original Thriller by International Thriller Writers and the Daphne du Maurier Award. A former consultant in the California State Legislature, Allison lives in Arizona with her husband, five kids and assorted pets.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SUMMER ON THEISLAND by Brenda Novak on the HTP Books Winter 2022 Women’s Fiction Blog Tour.
Below you will find an about the book section, a mini-book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author’s section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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About the Book
Marlo Madsen has just been through a global pandemic that turned her life—and the lives of almost everyone she knows—upside down. Her beloved father has died from COVID. Helping her mother, who has MS, handle his estate means returning to the small coastal Florida town where she was raised.
Having just left her job as a divorce attorney—which paid well but showed her too much of the worst in people—she’s invited two friends to join her for a seaside summer. The two friends are also facing huge life changes after the worsening California wildfires took everything from them, and need to decompress and recuperate. And travel has long been forbidden, so they are beyond appreciative for the ability to escape.
Unfortunately, a restful summer doesn’t seem to be in the cards, especially when Marlo learns about a special provision in her father’s will that reveals he has a love child with Rosemarie, the housekeeper who’s worked for the family for years. Rosemarie’s son was around while Marlo was growing up, but she never suspected a thing. Nobody did. And once the news is revealed, the fallout will cause waves big enough to topple two families and a whole community.
SUMMER ON THE ISLAND by Brenda Novak is women’s fiction and romance combined in a family drama quick read set on an island off the Florida Coast. This is a standalone story.
The characters are realistic and while I did not always agree with their decisions, they are believable because of the diversity of people. The plot had some surprises, that should have surprised, but did not. It was easy to anticipate. Several plot points were overly repeated while at other times, I felt some could have used more time. I did enjoy the setting of this story and the descriptions of the island.
This was an O.K. read for me. Usually, I enjoy this author’s books, but this one emotionally missed the mark for me.
***
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Teach Island looked exactly the same as Marlow Madsen remembered it. Since the entire world had been disrupted by the pandemic, the comfort and familiarity of this place nearly brought tears to her eyes. Part of that was how strongly she associated it with her father. John “Tiller” Madsen, who’d gotten his nickname because of his love for sailing, had died a month ago. But the island had long been his escape from the rat race of Washington, DC, where he’d served as a United States senator for thirty years.
“I can’t believe I’m back. Finally,” Marlow said as she rolled down the passenger window to let in some fresh air.
Part of the archipelago of forty-five hundred islands off the coast of Florida, Teach was only seven square miles. Marlow loved its homey, small-town atmosphere. She also loved its white sand beaches and its motley collection of bars, restaurants, bait-and-tackle stores and gift shops, most of which, at least in the older section where they were now, had kitschy decor. Because the island was named after Edward Teach, or Blackbeard, one of the most famous pirates to operate in this part of the world in the early eighteenth century, there was pirate stuff all over. A black skull-and-crossbones flag hung on a pole in front of the most popular bar, which was made to look like a colonial-era tavern and was named Queen Anne’s Revenge after Blackbeard’s ship.
In addition to the Blackbeard memorabilia, there was the regular sea-themed stuff—large anchors or ship’s wheels stuck in the ground here and there, fishing nets draped from the eaves of stores and cafés, and lobsters, crabs and other ocean creatures painted on wooden or corrugated metal sides. Her parents had a house in Georgia, a true Southern mansion, as well as their condo in Virginia for when her father had to be in Washington. But this was where they’d always spent the summers.
Now that Tiller was gone, her mother was talking about selling the other residences and moving here permanently. Marlow hated the sense of loss that inspired the forever change, but since Seaclusion—her father’s name for the beach house—had always been her favorite of their homes, she was also relieved that her mother planned to keep it. This was the property she hoped to inherit one day; she couldn’t imagine it ever being out of the family. And after what so many people had experienced with the fires in California, where she’d been living since she graduated college, and all the hurricanes in recent years that had plagued Florida, she had reason to be grateful the house was still standing.
“Sounds like you’ve missed the place.” Reese Cantwell, who’d been sent to pick up her and her two friends, had grown even taller since Marlow had seen him last. His hands and feet no longer looked disproportionate to the rest of his body. She remembered that his older brother, Walker, had also reminded her of a pup who hadn’t quite grown into his large paws and wondered what Walker was doing these days.
“It’s a welcome sight for all three of us,” Aida Trahan piped up from the back. “Three months by the sea should change everything.”
Claire Fernandez was also in the back seat, both of them buried beneath the luggage that wouldn’t fit in the trunk. They’d met at LAX and flown into Miami together. “Here’s hoping,” she said. “Even if it doesn’t, I’m looking forward to putting my toes in the water and my butt in the sand.”
“You’ll get plenty of opportunities for that here,” Reese said.
Claire needed the peace and tranquility and a chance to heal. She’d lost her home in the fires that’d ravaged Malibu last August. To say nothing of the other dramas that’d plagued her this past year.
Marlow looked over at their driver. Apparently, since her father’s death, Reese had been helping out around the estate, in addition to teaching tennis at the club. His mother, Rosemary, had been their housekeeper since well before he was born—since before Marlow was even born. Marlow was grateful for the many years of service and loyalty Rosemary had given the family, especially now that Tiller had died. It was wonderful to have someone she trusted watch out for her mother. Eileen had multiple sclerosis, which sometimes made it difficult for her to get around.
“Looks as casual as I was hoping it would be.” Claire also lowered her window as Reese brought them to the far side of the island and closer to the house. Situated on the water, Seaclusion had its own private beach, as well as a three-bedroom guesthouse and a smaller apartment over the garage where Rosemary had lived before moving into the main house after Tiller died so she could be available if Eileen needed anything during the night.
“There are some upscale shops and restaurants where we’re going, if you’re in the mood for spending money,” Marlow told them.
“When have I not been in the mood to shop?” Aida joked.
“You don’t have access to Dutton’s money anymore,” Claire pointed out. “You need to be careful.”
Claire had lost almost everything. She had reason to be cautious. Aida wasn’t in the best situation, either, and yet she shrugged off the concern. “I’ll be okay. I didn’t walk away empty-handed, thanks to my amazing divorce attorney.”
Marlow always felt uncomfortable when Dutton came up, and sometimes couldn’t believe it wasn’t more uncomfortable for them. The way Claire and Aida had met was remarkable, to say the least. It was even more remarkable that they’d managed to become friends. But Marlow twisted around and smiled as though she didn’t feel the sudden tension so she could acknowledge Aida’s compliment. Although Marlow was only thirty-four, she’d been a practicing attorney for ten years. She’d jumped ahead two grades when she was seven, which had enabled her to finish high school early and start college at sixteen. A knack for difficult negotiations had led her to a law degree and from there she’d gone into family law, something that had worked out well for her. Her practice had grown so fast she’d considered hiring another attorney to help with the caseload.
She probably would’ve done that, if not for the pandemic, which had shut down every aspect of her life except work, making her realize that becoming one of the best divorce attorneys in Los Angeles wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. No matter how much money she made, she didn’t enjoy dealing with people who were so deeply upset, and the richer, more famous the client, the more acrimonious the divorce. She hoped she’d never have to wade through another one. If a marriage worked, it could be wonderful. Her parents had proved that. But after what she’d witnessed with other people since passing the bar, she was beginning to believe Tiller and Eileen were the exception.
“All I did was make Dutton play fair,” Marlow said. “But at least you have some money you can use to get by while you decide what to do from here.”
“I liked being a trophy wife,” Aida grumbled. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for anything else.”
Like so many in LA, she’d been an aspiring actress at one time, but her career had never taken off. After she’d married Dutton, she’d spent more time at the tennis club, where she and Marlow had met, than trying out for any auditions.
“Don’t say that,” Marlow told her. “You can do a lot more than look pretty.”
Claire remained conspicuously quiet. She’d been subdued since they left, so subdued that Marlow was beginning to wonder if something was wrong.
“We’ll see.” Aida shrugged off the compliment as readily as she had the warning. “But before I have to make the really hard decisions, I deserve a break. So where’s the expensive part of the island again?”
Reese chuckled. “We’re almost there.”
“We’ll be able to play tennis, too,” Marlow told her. “The club’s only a mile from the house. And Reese is our resident pro.”
“No way! You play tennis?” Aida’s voice revealed her enthusiasm.
“Every day,” he replied.
“Can he beat you?” Aida asked Marlow.
“He was just a kid the last time we played, and he could take me about half the time even then. I doubt he’ll have any problem now.”
“I can see why you talked us out of renting a car,” Claire said, finally entering the conversation. “Considering the size of this place…”
“Like I told you before,” Marlow said, “most people walk or ride a bike.”
“You only need a car if you’re going off island,” Reese chimed in. He was driving them in Eileen’s Tesla.
Marlow was anxious to ask how her mother was doing but decided to hold off. If she questioned him while her friends were in the car, she’d probably get the standard “Fine.” But she wasn’t looking for a perfunctory answer. She wanted the truth. What he’d seen and heard recently. He was the one who’d been here. Marlow hadn’t been able to visit, not even when her father died. Thanks to the pandemic, they hadn’t been able to give him the funeral he deserved, either.
Reese glanced into the rearview mirror. “Are the three of you staying all summer?”
Marlow suspected he was hoping Aida, in particular, would be on the island for a while. Although Aida was thirty-six, fourteen years older than he was, she was a delicate blonde with big blue eyes. The way she dressed and accessorized, she turned heads, especially male heads, wherever she went.
“We are,” Aida said, and the subtle hint of flirtation in her voice told Marlow that she’d picked up on Reese’s interest.
“We have some big decisions to make in the coming months,” Marlow said, hoping to give Reese a hint that this wasn’t the opportunity he might think it was. Aida was on the rebound. She needed to put her life back together, not risk her heart on a summer fling.
“What kind of decisions?” he asked, naturally curious.
Claire answered for her. “Like what we’re going to do from here on. We’re all starting over.”
Reese’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Marlow. “Meaning…what? You won’t be returning to LA?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I sold my condo and closed my practice before I left, just in case.”
His jaw dropped. “Really? But your mom said you’re one of the most highly sought-after attorneys in Los Angeles.”No doubt her mother talked about her all the time. She’d heard a few things about Reese’s family, too, including the fact that he hadn’t finished school because he’d let partying come between him and a degree. But Marlow didn’t know Reese that well. She’d spent more time with his much older brother, Walker, when they were growing up. “It’s not that it wasn’t working out. It was. I’m just…done with divorce.”
Brenda Novak, a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author, has penned over sixty novels. She is a five-time nominee for the RITA Award and has won the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Bookbuyer’s Best, and many other awards. She also runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity to raise money for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). To date, she’s raised $2.5 million. For more about Brenda, please visit www.brendanovak.com.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for A FAMILY AFFAIR by Robyn Carr on the HTP Books Winter 2022 Women’s Fiction Blog Tour.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
An exceptional storyteller, #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr beautifully captures the emotionally charged, complex dynamics that come with being part of any family. Readers will laugh and shed a few tears as they discover what it means to be loved, supported and accepted by the people who mean the most.
When a woman notices a young pregant woman attending her husband’s funeral she realizes his mid-life crisis went far beyond his weekend warrior lifestyle. But Carr’s story of a family dealing with their grief is full of surprises and as everyone examines their own beliefs and behavior, they become closer than they ever thought possible. Carr tackles the serious issues women face with humor and heart.
A FAMILY AFFAIR by Robyn Carr is an emotional women’s fiction family drama with romantic elements covering a year of upheaval, secrets, and revelations in the McNichol family after the sudden death of Chad McNichol. This is a standalone novel from this author.
Anna McNichol is a respected judge with three grown children. While her marriage has been rocky at times, she believes in commitment and working on problems, but she has reached a point in her life and marriage where she is ready to focus on herself. Before Anna and her husband, Chad can discuss current problems in their relationship, he dies on a rafting trip.
Anna has always been the rock of her family, but suddenly everyone is struggling with their grief and Anna does not have all the answers. Faced with one challenge after another Anna finds support in an unexpected source as she deals with not only her own problems but tries to be available as her children find their own paths to healing and happiness.
I enjoyed this quick read and was very content with the author’s handling of so many difficult issues. This family goes through so much, not only the sudden death of the husband and father, but the secrets they discover after his death, betrayal, health issues, aging, and relationships, both good and bad. The characters are all fully developed, and I felt realistically portrayed. I was fully invested in the growth and changes in this family followed over this year.
This women’s fiction family drama is a heartfelt story about many of the realities families face.
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Excerpt
The celebration of life was not held in a funeral parlor or church but rather in a fancy clubhouse in an upscale Mill Valley community. It was furnished with comfortable sofas, chairs, small round accent tables, thick carpet and carefully chosen art. Its primary purpose was for hosting parties. Residents in the community could rent it for events, which Anna had done. There was a huge viewing screen upon which the pictures of Chad’s life played, a hundred and fifty of them, carefully and lovingly chosen by Anna with a little help from the kids. Every picture had Chad in it, starting from old childhood prints she’d inherited from Chad’s mother years ago. She’d glance up to see one of him in a high school football uniform looking the worse for wear with a big grin on his dirty face; she caught a huge blowup of their wedding picture; there was one soon after of him with baby Jessie asleep on his chest. There were many pictures of Chad alone, a few of Chad and Anna, one of a young Anna gazing lovingly up into Chad’s face, several family groupings. The focus was Chad, his life, his accomplishments, his achievements, his happiness, a few of the important people in his life. Chad, Chad, Chad. Just like before he died.
Things had been tense lately, but she remembered those younger years fondly because, although it hadn’t been easy, they had been deeply in love. They met through what can only be described as fate, as destiny. In fact, their meeting was a legendary family story. Anna had been in San Francisco, shopping on her lunch hour down at Fisherman’s Wharf. Shopping but not buying, which was typical for her as she had been and still was very frugal. She loved the sea lions, enjoyed watching tourists, sometimes found bargains at Pier 1, enjoyed the occasional meal on the pier.
On that day, something strange happened. She heard a panicked cry rise from the crowd of tourists on the pier, saw a food truck trundling across the pier without a driver, picking up speed. A man in work clothes and apron was chasing the truck. She only had seconds to take it in. It seemed the food truck, its awning out and moving fast, was headed toward a group of people. Right before her eyes the truck knocked a man off the pier before the truck was stopped by a barricade.
The man, completely unaware, flew off the dock and into the water below, startling a large number of fat sea lions who had been sunning themselves nearby.
The sea lions scrambled into the water and the man was flailing around in a panic. Someone yelled, “He can’t swim!” Hardly giving it a thought, Anna dropped her purse, kicked off her shoes and jumped off the pier, swimming to the man. Getting to him was no challenge; she practically landed on top of him. But he was hysterical and splashing, kicking and sputtering. “You’re okay, come on,” she said, grabbing his shirt by the collar. But he fought harder and sank, nearly pulling her under with him.
She slapped him in the face and that startled him enough he could let himself be rescued. She slid her arm around his neck and began pulling him to the dock where a couple of men seemed to be standing by to pull him in.
There was a lot of commotion, not to mention honking noises from sea lions. Anna was shivering in her wet clothes and all she could think at the time was how was she going to locate a change of clothes for her afternoon at work. Then there were emergency vehicles and a handsome young police officer draped a blanket around her shoulders and took a report. The near drowning victim was taken away in an ambulance and Anna was given a ride to her apartment by the cute policeman. She was delighted and surprised when the police officer called her a week later. She almost hyperventilated in hope that he’d ask her out.
“The man you pulled out of the water has been in touch. He wants your name,” the officer said.
“He isn’t going to sue me, is he?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” he said with a laugh. “He seems very grateful. He won’t have any trouble tracking you down but I said I’d ask. He probably wants to thank you.”
The man’s name was Chad. He was finishing up his PhD at Berkeley while she was working in a law office in the Bay Area. She was twenty-three and he was twenty-seven and she was not prepared for how handsome he was and of course much better put together than when he was dragged out of the water.
He took her to dinner and, as she recalled, their first date was almost like an interview. He wanted to know everything about her and was utterly amazed to learn she’d had a job as a lifeguard in a community pool for exactly one summer when she was a teenager and yet jumped in to save him with total confidence. They fell in love almost instantly. The first time they made love, he asked her to marry him. She didn’t say yes right away, but they knew from the start they were made for each other. What they didn’t know was how many fights they’d have. Very few big fights but many small ones; she thought of them as bickering. They fought about what was on the pizza; a scrape on the side of the car that was not her fault, not even remotely; what kind of vacation they should have and where they should go. As Anna recalled, they always went where Chad wanted to go. They fought about what movie to see, where to eat, what was grumbled under his or her breath.
They fought seriously about his affair. That was in the distant past but it took a long time to get over. Years. But when they finally pledged to stay married, to do their best to make it good, they fell into bed and had the best sex of their lives. And they had Elizabeth.
That experience was how she knew that all the excuses for this current marital rift, no matter what he called it, was probably about another woman and not them growing apart or having divergent needs. He wouldn’t admit it and she had no proof, but she had better than average instincts. She believed he’d gotten all excited at the prospect of falling in love and was rewriting their history to make that acceptable. He was looking for an excuse that would make it reasonable to step outside the bonds of marriage. She could feel it; he’d been involved with someone else.
Robyn Carr is an award-winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than sixty novels, including highly praised women’s fiction such as Four Friends, The Summer That Made Us and The View from Alameda Island, as well as the critically acclaimed Virgin River, Thunder Point and Sullivan’s Crossing series. Virgin River is now a Netflix original series. Robyn lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. You can visit her website at robyncarr.com.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for CRIMSON SUMMER (Amy Larson & Hunter Forrest FBI Book #2) by Heather Graham on the HTP Books Winter 2022 Mystery and Thriller Blog Tour.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Summary
From New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham, suspense following agents from the FBI and Florida Department of Law Enforcement as they investigate a series of murders linked to conspiracy theorists and doomsday cults.
Just when FDLE agent Amy Larson thought she’d wrapped up her most chilling case, she was delivered a red toy horse–a not-so-subtle taunt from a Doomsday cult that she and FBI agent Hunter Forrest hoped they’d taken down. A apparent turf war in Seminole territory in North Florida is the scene of a bloody massacre, and the blame seems to lie with drug cartels out of South America. The trail will take the pair on a cross-country hunt, and deep into a world of conspiracy theories, greed and privilege, where a powerful, hidden group is trying to create civil unrest through violence.
CRIMSON SUMMER (Amy Larson & Hunter Forrest FBI Book #2) by Heather Graham is the second book in this romantic suspense/crime thriller series with an overall series arc of a mysterious apocalyptic cult with each book featuring one of the four horsemen from Revelations. This book can be read as a standalone, but it is easier to follow the overall arc by reading them in order.
FDLE Special Agent Amy Larson and FBI Special Agent Hunter Forrest are on vacation when they receive a small red toy horse figurine delivered to their room. They return to Florida immediately to a massacre in the Florida Everglades.
As the investigation gets going, a second massacre occurs in New York City. The red horse is “War” and with tensions rising, law enforcement is afraid of retaliations. A mystery puppet master is killing every witness and lead Amy and Hunter uncover. With the stakes increasing nationwide, Amy and Hunter are in a race to uncover a trail that does not lead to a dead-end but will lead them to the red horse mastermind.
I was so happy to finally get the follow-up to Danger In Numbers and the next book in this series. This is a solid next step the overall arc and a good crime thriller in its own right. Amy and Hunter are a wonderful couple to follow as the main characters. Even with the brutality of the crimes and the danger along the way, Ms. Graham is able to give Amy and Hunter lighter moments, too. This is a pair of law enforcement officers I look forward to reading more about. All the secondary characters were interesting, and the plot twists make this a story I could not put down.
I recommend this series and author and I am anxiously awaiting the next book!
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Excerpt
Prologue
The sun was out, inching its way up in the sky, casting golden rays and creating a beautiful display of color over the shading mangroves and cypress growing richly in the area. The sunlight touched on the streams running throughout the Everglades, the great “River of Grass” stretching over two hundred acres in southern and central portions of Florida, creating a glittering glow of nature.
The sky was gold and red at the horizon, and brilliantly blue above, with only a few soft puffs of clouds littered about. Diamonds and crystals seemed to float on the water.
Such beauty. Such peace.
Then there was the crime scene.
The bodies lay strewn and drenched with blood. The rich, natural earth hues of the Everglades were caught in a surreal image, greens and browns spattered liberally with the color red as if an angry child had swung a sopping paint-brush around.
Aidan Cypress had never understood why the mocking-bird had been made Florida’s state bird—not when it seemed that vultures ruled the skies overhead. Never more so than today.
Now, as he stood overlooking the scene with his crew and special agents from the FDLE, trying to control the crime scene against the circling vultures, Aidan couldn’t help but wonder just what had happened and why it had happened this way—and grit his teeth knowing there would be speculation.
Stooping down by the body of a man Aidan believed to be in his midthirties—with dark hair, olive complexion, possibly six feet in height, medium build—he noted the shaft of an arrow protruding from the man’s gut.
All the dead had been killed with arrows, hatchets, axes and knives. Because whoever had done this had apparently tried to make it look like a historical Native American rampage.
Except the killers hadn’t begun to understand there were differences in the weaponry and customs between the nations and tribes of the indigenous peoples across the country.
In South Florida, the dead man’s coloring could mean many things; Aidan himself was a member of the Seminole tribe of Florida, though somewhere in his lineage, some-one had been white—most probably from northern Europe originally. He had a bronze complexion, thick, straight hair that was almost ebony…and green eyes.
South Florida was home to those who had come from Cuba, Central and South America and probably every island out there. The area was truly a giant melting pot. That’s how his family had begun. In a way, history had created the Seminole tribe because there had been a time when settlers had called any indigenous person in Florida a Seminole.
But while the killers had tried to make this look like a massacre of old, the dead men were not Seminole. They were, Aidan believed, Latino. He could see tattoos on the lower arms of a few of the dead who had been wearing T-shirts; a single word was visible in the artwork on the man in front of him—Hermandad.
Spanish for “Brotherhood.”
“What the hell happened here, Aidan?”
Aidan looked up to see that John Schultz—Special Agent John Schultz, Florida Department of Law Enforcement—was standing by his side.
John went on. “It’s like a scene out of an old cowboys and Indians movie!”
Aidan stared at John as he rose, bristling—and yet he knew what it looked like at first glance.
“Quaking aspen,” Aidan said.
“Quaking aspen?” John repeated blankly.
“It’s not native to this area. Look at the arrow. That wasn’t made by any Seminole, Miccosukee or other Florida Native American. That is a western wood.”
“Yeah, well, things travel these days.”
Aidan shook his head. He liked John and respected him. The older agent was experienced, a few years shy of retirement. The tall, gray-haired man had recently suffered a heart attack, had taken the prescribed time off and come back to the field. They’d worked together dozens of times before. He could be abrasive—he had a sometimes-unhappy tendency to say what he thought, before thinking it through.
A few years back John had been partnered with a young woman named Amy Larson. It had taken John a long time to accept her age—and the fact she was female. Once he’d realized her value, though, he’d become her strongest supporter.
But Amy wasn’t here today.
And Aidan missed her. She softened John’s rough edges.
She was still on holiday somewhere with Hunter Forrest, the FBI agent she’d started dating. They were off on an island enjoying exotic breezes and one another’s company minus all the blood and mayhem.
Aidan stopped lamenting the absence of his favorite FDLE agent and waved away a giant vulture trying to hone in on a nearby body.
Half of the corpses were already missing eyes and bits and pieces of skin and soft tissue.
Aidan sighed and looked around. There were twenty bodies, all of them male, between the ages of twenty and forty, he estimated.
Because he’d noted the tattoos on a few of them, and using his own years of experience, he theorized the dead were members of a gang. Florida had many such gangs. Most were recruits from the various drug cartels, resolved to hold dominion over their territories.
He looked at John, trying to be patient, understanding and professional enough to control his temper. “You know, you may be the special agent, but I’m the forensics expert, and this was not something perpetrated by any of the Florida tribes—or any tribe anywhere. I can guarantee you no one sent out a war party to slaughter some gang members. Someone tried—ridiculously—to make this look like some Natives did this.”
“Hey, sorry, you’re right. Forgive me—just…look around!” John said quickly and sincerely. “It’s just at first sight…well, I mean—wow. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
The apology was earnest. “Okay. Let’s figure out what really happened.”
The corpses were in something of a clearing right by a natural stream making its way through hammocks thick with cypress trees and mangroves and all kinds of underbrush.
While the area was customarily filled with many birds—herons, cranes, falcons, hawks and more—it was the vultures who had staked out a claim. The bodies lay with arrows and axes protruding from their heads, guts or chests, as if they’d fought in a bloody battle. And now they succumbed to decay on the damp and redolent earth.
John followed Aidan’s gaze and winced. “It’s a mess. Okay, well…all right. I’m going to go over and interview the man who found this.”
“Jimmy Osceola,” Aidan said. “He’s been fishing this little area all his life, and he does tours. Two birds with one stone. Members of his family work with him and all of them fish and take tourists out here. He has a great little place right off I-75. It’s called Fresh Catch, and his catch is about as fresh as it gets. Catfish. He’s a good guy, John.”
“I believe you. But we’re going to need a break here—you and your team have to find something for me to go on.”
Aidan stared at him, gloved hands unclenching at his sides. John was rough around the edges and said whatever came to mind, but he was a good cop.
He’d be hell-bent on finding out just what had gone on here.
Aidan told him what he’d heard. “Jimmy was out with a boatload of tourists—they’re right over there. See—two couples, a kid who just started at FIU and two middle-aged women. The first officers on the scene made sure they all stayed. Go talk to them. They look like they came upon a bloodbath—oh, wait, they did.”
John arched a brow to him and said, “Yeah. I got it.”
He headed off to talk to Jimmy Osceola and the group with him.
Aidan studied the crime scene again, as a whole.
First, what the hell had all these men been doing out here? A few of them looked to have been wearing suits; most were in T-shirts and jeans.
The few bodies he had noted—not touching any of them, that was the medical examiner’s purview—seemed to bear that same tattoo. Hermandad.
That meant a gang of enforcers in his mind, and he was sure it was a good guess.
Had a big drug deal been planned?
They were on state land, but it was state land traveled only by the local tribes who knew it. The park service rangers also came through, and the occasional tourist who arranged for a special excursion into the wilds.
Bird-watchers, often enough.
All they’d see today, however, would be the vultures.
“Aidan.”
He heard his name spoken by a quiet female voice and he swung around.
Amy Larson was not enjoying an exotic island vacation.
She was standing just feet from him, having carefully avoided stepping on any of the bodies, pools of blood or possible evidence. She was in a navy pantsuit, white cotton shirt and serviceable black sneakers—obviously back to work.
No matter how all-business her wardrobe, Amy had blue-crystal eyes that displayed empathy and caring. She was great at both assuring witnesses and staring down suspects.
“What are you doing here, Amy?” Aidan asked her. “You’re supposed to be sunbathing somewhere, playing in the surf with Hunter.”
“I was.”
“So what happened?”
“It was great. Champagne, chocolates, sun, surf, sand…” She sighed.
“And?”
“And a little red horse—like the one from last month’s crime scene—delivered right to the room,” she said.
Author Bio New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Heather Graham has written more than a hundred novels. She’s a winner of the RWA’s Lifetime Achievement Award, and the Thriller Writers’ Silver Bullet. She is an active member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America. For more information, check out her website, TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com, or find Heather on Facebook.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the HQN blog tour for SWEET HOME COWBOY – an anthology.
Below you will find an author Q&A, a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the authors’ bios and social media links. Enjoy!
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Author Q&A with Maisey Yates
· 1. How many genres do you write in?
I write Women’s Fiction and romance, and within romance I write high fantasy romance for the Presents line, and Western romance.
· 2. What is your favorite genre (or subgenre) to write? Why?
I don’t really have a favorite, I love to change it up, it keeps everything fresh. I love the twists and family relationships in women’s fiction, and I love digging deep into the characters in western romance, and I love getting to do over the top angst in Presents.
· 3. How do you decide who to collaborate with for anthologies?
I did a publisher led anthology once, but the books weren’t connected. The Jasper Creek anthologies very much came out of my friendship with Nicole, Caitlin and Jackie, just something we brainstormed together, and now it’s taken on a life of its own! Three books – and more on the way!
· 4. What book/genre have you not yet written that you would like to write in the future?
I love historical and mystery elements in WF, a historical mystery would be really fun.
· 5. Which of your characters would you most like to sit down for lunch with?
I’m a sucker for Luke Hollister from Smooth-Talking Cowboy and always have been, so I’ll always choose Luke.
· 6. What is your writing routine?
My routine really changes from book to book. Some books really like to be written in the morning, others like evenings. Some I plot, some I don’t. I try to write within normal office type hours, M-F and take weekends off, but every book is different, and some I don’t like to take a break from while I’m working on them.
· 7. How do you research information for books?
Google mostly. Seriously. And YouTube videos are great when you need visuals.
· 8. Have any of your books been made into movies? If so, which one(s) and if not, which one(s) would you like to see as a movie?
I want to see Sweet Home Cowboy as a miniseries. The sisters are so fun together, and I love the chickens and the humor. I think it would be delightful.
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Book Summary
SWEET HOME COWBOY S is a Western-themed anthology featuring four stories from bestselling authors Maisey Yates, Nicole Helm, Jackie Ashenden and Caitlin Crews!
Four half sisters create the family they’ve always dreamed of in this enchanting quartet from bestselling authors Maisey Yates, Nicole Helm, Jackie Ashenden and Caitlin Crews.
The Hathaway sisters might have grown up apart, but when they agree to move to Jasper Creek, Oregon, to revitalize their grandfather’s farm, it seems a straightforward decision. Until they meet their neighborhood cowboys…
Sweet-natured Teddy has never met a man worth taking a risk on, until now. Tomboy Joey has more affinity with farm equipment than men, until a brooding cowboy changes her mind. Prickly baker Georgie can’t resist the temptation of the most forbidden cowboy of all, and sparks fly between ceramicist Elliot and the grumpy single-dad rancher next door.
The sisters’ feelings are anything but simple, but with the love and support of each other, they discover that a cowboy might be the sweetest thing of all about coming home.
SWEET HOME COWBOY (Jasper Creek Book #3) by Maisey Yates, Jackie Ashenden, Caitlin Crews, and Nicole Helm is a wonderfully heartwarming anthology featuring the four Hathaway sisters, who never wish to be called half-sisters, come together to revitalize their grandfather’s farm in Jasper Creek, Oregon. The four sisters are featured in four novellas overlapping in time in this anthology which is the third in the Jasper Creek series and can easily be read as a standalone.
I can only say good things about this anthology. Each novella took me on an emotional ride with each sister and her cowboy match through an instant love romance with just the right amount of heat. The consistency between all the romance timelines was very well done as one sister was the focal point in each story, but there was still crossover. Each sister and cowboy couple is unique and fully drawn for being novella length. The sex scenes are not behind closed doors, but they are also not gratuitous. This is just an all-around enchanting anthology full of love, family, and house chickens.
I highly recommend this anthology!
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Excerpt
PROLOGUE
It was never comfortable for people when four sets of violet eyes zeroed in on them with the level of intensity the Hathaway sisters could manage.
A fact the half sisters had learned when they’d first met at summer camp, thanks to their families, who’d been careful to give the girls the opportunity to meet each other, without the pressure of having to become friends or even real sisters.
But sisters they had become that first day at the age of thirteen. In each other, they’d found kindred spirits. Not just in the unusual color of their eyes, but in the depths of their passions, and in their driving need to forge family out of the fragments their father had left behind when he’d impregnated all their mothers at different points in the same year.
So that, as adults, though they lived in different parts of the country, they were the best of friends. Sisters, through and through, and when Georgie had informed them of Grandpa Jack’s heart attack in Jasper Creek, the rest had rushed to the small Oregon town to see what they could do.
Grandpa Jack looked at each of them with his usual squinty-eyed suspicion. Though their father had never made any effort to be a part of his daughters’ lives, Grandpa Jack had always made it clear he’d be there if needed.
But not to expect him to be cheerful about it.
“Didn’t all have to come,” he grumbled, shifting in his hospital bed.
“Well, of course we did. And we’ll stay until you’re on the mend,” Teddy said, patting his hand. The squinty-eyed suspicion became a full-fledged scowl as he pulled his hand away.
While Teddy was all about gestures of affection, Grandpa Jack was decidedly not.
Which made the fact Georgie was the only local granddaughter a blessing as she shared the discomfort with such goings-on. He turned his glare to her. “Didn’t have to call them.”
Georgie shrugged.
“She was right to,” Joey said firmly, meeting Grandpa Jack’s scowl with her own. “We won’t hear another complaint about it. A waste of time. You know how stubborn we are.”
Grandpa Jack grunted.
Elliot smirked. “Wonder where we got it.”
A nurse knocked on the door, then poked her head in. “Sorry, girls, it’s time to head home. Visiting hours are over.”
“Girls,” Elliot muttered under her breath with a considerable amount of disdain for the word.
But Teddy pressed a kiss to Grandpa Jack’s wrinkled forehead, Elliot touched his shoulder, and Georgie and Joey hovered at the door until they all left the room, chorusing goodbyes.
“I hate leaving him all alone,” Teddy said as Elliot linked arms with her. Teddy reached out and took Joey’s arm.
“He’ll be home soon enough,” Joey reassured her. She gave Georgie an apologetic shrug, then linked arms with her too, so they were a unit as they walked out of the hospital into the cool spring evening.
“He’s not going to let you fuss over him, Teddy. It isn’t his way,” Georgie said pragmatically as they walked to her truck.
Teddy frowned. “I think you misjudge my tenacity.”
Elliot’s eyebrows winged up. “Do we?”
Teddy wrinkled her nose, but didn’t argue with Elliot.
“I found an Airbnb closer to the hospital,” Georgie said, sounding tired as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “I knew this wouldn’t be a quick visit and we’d need more room than Felix and I have.” Georgie had grown up with her half brother right here in Jasper Creek.
The four sisters climbed into Georgie’s truck. Whatever belongings they’d packed were strapped into the bed of the truck from when Georgie had picked Joey and Teddy up at the airport this afternoon, after Elliot had driven down from Portland.
Georgie drove onto the highway, and it was only about fifteen minutes later she parked in front of a pretty little farmhouse just outside of Jasper Creek.
“This place is amazing,” Teddy said.
“Much better taken care of than the main house at Grandpa Jack’s property,” Georgie returned.
The women got out, grabbed what they’d need for the night, then headed inside.
“I’ll make us some dinner,” Teddy said, already moving for the kitchen.
“The host said she left some things for us to eat when we arrived,” Georgie replied, dropping her stuff in the front room.
They all descended on the kitchen, which was quaint and old-fashioned—something that suited all four women to the bone. On the table were a variety of baked goods.
“I found a teapot and some tea,” Teddy said.
“Scones and sweet rolls for dinner sounds good to me,” Joey said, already unwrapping the plate of baked goods and digging in.
Elliot found plates and set the table, shoving one at Joey as she’d already plowed through three-fourths of a scone.
“Do you think Grandpa Jack is stressed about the ranch? And that’s what caused this?” Teddy asked, fiddling with the stove.
“I think he’s an old man who eats poorly and smokes cigars regularly. But…” Georgie sighed.
“He’s been talking about selling off the last piece of land to Colt West next door. He’d keep the
cabin and about an acre around it, but the rest would go to Colt.”
“Even the main house?” Joey asked, as she licked crumbs from her fingers.
“You could hardly call it that these days. It’s falling apart at the seams.”
Teddy frowned. “That’s just not right.”
Georgie shrugged. “He hasn’t lived in that house in decades. He’s a single, old, grumpy man. He’s finally accepting he can’t really take care of the ranch. Why not sell?”
“It’s our legacy,” Joey said. Then she looked around the table. “Isn’t it?”
All eyes turned to Georgie, who was the only one who’d ever had any contact with Mickey Hathaway. She lifted her shoulders. “Far as I know.”
Silence filled the room until Teddy’s teakettle began to whistle. She poured tea for everyone, then took a seat at the kitchen table. As far as she was concerned, this was all fate. The timing, the chance of all four of them coming here at a point in their lives where they got to decide what came next.
“We’ve always talked about how much we wanted to live there, so why don’t we?”
“Why don’t we what?” Joey replied, mouth full with her last bite of scone.
“Live there. Do what we all love to do. Put together some kind of…business. Honey, eggs,” Teddy said, pointing to herself. “Produce,” she said, pointing to Joey. “Ceramics.” Elliot’s specialty. “Our sweet Georgie’s baked goods,” she said, grinning at Georgie’s negative reaction to being called sweet.
“Most of us are already selling our wares anyway. Why don’t we do it here? The four of us.”
It would be more than the year her mother wanted, more than just learning some independence. It would be actually, hopefully permanently, forging that independence. Well, with her sisters. Which suited Teddy better. She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be a part of a family. Her family.
“You’d move here all the way from Maine?” Joey asked dubiously. “Leave your mother?”
Teddy sniffed. “I can leave my mother.” Then she wrinkled her nose. Subterfuge wasn’t her
strong suit.
“She wants me to move out anyway.”
“Why?” her sisters demanded, offended on her behalf.
“She thinks I need a year of independence. To find my own way. Apparently twenty-five is too old to have always lived with your mother, according to her.”
When none of her sisters argued, she glared at them. “You agree with her?”
Elliot shrugged. “I don’t disagree with her.”
“Well, anyway, this would solve that, wouldn’t it? We can fix up the house. I’m sure some people need bee removal around here, so I’ll start a new hive. Buy new chickens. Elliot can drive her ceramics van down here. Joey, you could start the farm of your dreams with local produce and flowers—a brand-new challenge, all yours. Georgie, you can design the baking kitchen you’ve been planning since childhood. And we’ll be close enough to Grandpa to help him—and far enough away he won’t beat us away with sticks.”
They looked at Teddy, varying looks of consideration and concern on their faces. But as the idea took shape in Teddy’s mind, she knew it was exactly right. This wasn’t some new dream out of left field; it was an old dream.
And if she had to be independent, why not make that old dream a reality?
“We always wanted to live in one place. Like a real family,” Teddy said. She would have reached out and grabbed all their hands if she had three herself. As it was, she only looked at them imploringly. “Sisters. Live together. Work together. It’s the dream. Maybe something good can come out of Grandpa’s health scare. If Grandpa lets us live in the house, and we pool whatever our savings are together, it’s not a financial stretch. Elliot and I can keep our independent businesses running while we get our joint business set up. Then we split the farm profit four ways.”
“Profit. That is optimistic at best,” Georgie said.
“You know I am all about optimism,” Teddy returned.
A wind chime tinkled from the front room, which was odd considering there shouldn’t be enough wind to make it move here inside.
“Did someone leave the door open?” Joey asked, pushing back from the table. The girls got up and walked toward the door, which was indeed open.
“Look at that,” Elliot said.
They stepped out onto the porch together. Beyond the dogwood in the front just beginning to bloom, the sun was setting in a riot of colors—bright magentas, deep oranges, fading into lavenders and lighter pinks.
“It’s the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s a tad dramatic, Teddy,” Georgie said gently, though her voice held all the awe of someone who agreed, but would never admit it.
“We have to do it,” Teddy said, her voice almost a whisper. “This is a sign. Don’t you believe in fate?”
Elliot nodded. “Yeah. I’m mobile. I go where I please. Why not right here?”
Georgie shrugged. “Don’t know about fate, but it wouldn’t change much for me, except you guys would be close. I’d like that. Felix is talking about leaving Jasper Creek.”
Teddy reached out, but Georgie stopped her with a quelling look. “It’s fine.” She offered a smile, or Georgie’s version of a smile anyway. “Especially if you guys are here.”
All eyes turned to Joey.
“I have to talk timing over with my mom. I don’t want to leave her short-staffed,” Joey said, her eyes still on the sunset. Then she pushed out a breath and looked at her sisters and grinned. “But why the hell not?”
Teddy smiled at the sunset, feeling a bit teary over the whole thing. But it was meant to be, she was sure of it. “Four Sisters Farm.” She looked at each of her sisters. “That’s what we can call it. Because it’ll be ours. Always.”
Maisey Yates is a New York Times bestselling author of over one hundred romance novels. Whether she’s writing strong, hard working cowboys, dissolute princes or multigenerational family stories, she loves getting lost in fictional worlds. An avid knitter with a dangerous yarn addiction and an aversion to housework, Maisey lives with her husband and three kids in rural Oregon. Check out her website, maiseyyates.com or find her on Facebook.
Jackie Ashenden writes dark, emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just got the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines.
She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband the inimitable Dr Jax and two kids. When she’s not torturing alpha males, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, wasting time on social media, or forced to mountain biking with her husband.
Caitlin Crews is a USA Today bestselling, RITA-nominated, and critically-acclaimed authorwho has written more than 100 books and counting. She has a Masters and Ph.D. in English Literature, thinks everyone should read more category romance, and is always available to discuss her beloved alpha heroes. Just ask. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her comic book artist husband, is always planning her next trip, and will never, ever, read all the books in her to-be-read pile. Thank goodness.
Nicole Helm writes down-to-earth contemporary romance and fast-paced romantic suspense. She lives with her husband and two sons in Missouri. Visit her website: www.nicolehelm.com
