#excerpt – Page 25 – Avonna Loves Genres

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Cliff Diver by Carmen Amato

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour and I will be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for CLIFF DIVER (Emilia Cruz Mysteries Book #1) by Carmen Amato.

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

Acapulco’s first female police detective dives into an ocean of secrets, lies, and murder when she investigates her own lieutenant’s death.

In this explosive start to the award-winning Detective Emilia Cruz mystery series set in Acapulco, Emilia beat the odds to become the resort city’s first female police detective. But she’s living in a pressure cooker. Other detectives are scheming to push her out and the police department is riddled with corruption and drug cartel influence.

When the lieutenant is murdered, Emilia is assigned to lead the investigation. Soon the man’s sordid sex life, money laundering, and involvement in a kidnapping double-cross combine to create an ugly mess no one wants exposed. The high profile murder case could wreck Emilia’s career. When another detective–Emilia’s worst enemy in the squadroom–emerges as the prime suspect, keeping her job might be the least of her worries.

Readers who love international mystery series crime fighters including Armand Gamache, Harry Hole, Guido Brunetti, and the Department Q series will also love Detective Emilia Cruz’s complex plots, pulse-pounding suspense, and exotic location. Perfect for lovers of detective fiction by Ian Rankin, Jo Nesbo, and Peter May, as well as Don Winslow’s Mexican cartel and border thrillers.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31115540-cliff-diver?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=jCHt0LDXGu&rank=1

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

CLIFF DIVER (Emilia Cruz Mysteries Book #1) by Carmen Amato is an absolute page-turner of an intricately plotted police procedural mystery set in Acapulco, Mexico featuring their first and only female detective as the protagonist. I cannot believe I have not been aware of this series before now and I will immediately be diving into book #2 and the rest of the series.

Detective Emilia Cruz is finding acceptance difficult in a male dominated position, but she loves her job. When the squad’s lieutenant is found murdered, Emilia finds herself placed temporarily in his position and in charge of the investigation over senior investigators in her unit. The evidence soon points to the lieutenant being a dirty cop with possible ties to a kidnapping, illicit sex, counterfeiting and drug trafficking. Emilia does not know who in the department she can trust.

As the investigative pieces come together, Emilia realizes she is in danger of becoming a pawn to any number of powerful players in Acapulco’s police department, government and corporations. She needs to stay one step ahead and learn who she can trust to survive as she works to uncover the truth.

This book has everything I look for and love in a police procedural mystery. A female protagonist that is intelligent, strong and yet vulnerable. Emilia has a strong moral compass and is ethical in a corrupt environment and must learn how much she needs to bend to continue to survive in this environment. All the secondary characters are fully fleshed, and I could imagine meeting any of them on the streets of Acapulco. The plot of this story is fast-paced, gritty and completely believable. Every piece of evidence can be viewed in several ways with the twists and red herrings keeping me glued to the pages and unable to put this book down. The author makes Acapulco, good and bad, come alive on the pages of this book.

I highly recommend this police procedural mystery, this protagonist and this author!

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Excerpt

CLIFF DIVER: Detective Emilia Cruz Book 1

There is no choosing between two things of no value.

Mexican proverb

The two newcomers surveyed the squadroom. One of them looked vaguely familiar, as if he’d been in the newspaper lately. He was in his late thirties, with longish dark hair slicked back from a high forehead and the sort of angular cheekbones that spoke of a strong indio heritage. He wore a black leather blazer over a black tee shirt and cuffed pants. There was a slight bulge under the left arm.

Emilia stopped typing. The man exuded power.

The other man was bigger and blockier, with a square chin and a nose that had been broken too many times. He was also well dressed in expensive casual clothing.

“I’m looking for a Detective Cruz,” the black-clad man announced.

Emilia felt all eyes shift to her. But before she could say anything Silvio crossed the room. “Detective Franco Silvio,” he said to the man in black.

“I know who you are,” the man replied. “I’m here to talk to Cruz.”

Emilia slowly stood up.

“In the office.” The man jerked his chin at Emilia and then he and his cohort pushed past Silvio and headed into el teniente’s office.

Silvio swung over to Emilia. “What the fuck’s this?” he hissed.

“I don’t know,” she flashed back. Rico came to stand next to her and Silvio gave him a what-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing look but Rico stood his ground.

The three of them went into the office. The man in black sat in el teniente’s chair and jiggled the locked desk drawers. “Shut the door,” he said without looking up.

Silvio complied and the man came out from behind the desk.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked Emilia.

Emilia gave her head a tight shake. With five people in the room it felt crowded and Emilia felt that cold spurt of wariness she always did when she was the only woman in a crowd of unfriendly men. “I’m sorry, señor.”

“I’m Victor Obregon Sosa, the head of the police union for the state of Guerrero,” he announced. “This is my deputy, Miguel Villahermosa.” The other man didn’t acknowledge the introduction but it was clear Obregon had not expected him to do so. “We’re here to make sure that the investigation into Fausto Inocente’s death is handled properly.”

Rico bristled, as if he was offended that the union would butt in. Emilia waited for him to say something stupid but Silvio shot him a murderous glare and Rico kept his mouth shut.

“We’re barely two hours into the investigation,” Silvio said, obviously making an effort to keep his temper. It had been less than 40 minutes since the call to the chief of police. “It came in as a routine dispatch call. Cruz and Portillo were given the assignment, made the discovery, locked down the scene, and notified the next of kin.”

“So let’s hear it,” Obregon said and flapped a hand.

Silvio nodded at Rico.

“We got a report of a drifting boat,” Rico began. “It was off the beach at the Palacio Réal hotel–.”

“No,” Obregon interrupted. He folded his arms. “Cruz.”

Emilia stole a look at Rico. His face was like thunder. She swallowed hard. “As my partner said, the call was to investigate a drifting boat off the beach at the Palacio Réal. The hotel chef and manager saw it from the beach early this morning, thought there were bloodstains on the side. We met Water Patrol at the hotel and they towed in the boat.” She took another breath and tried to sound as professional as possible. “Lt. Inocente was in the bottom of the boat, with his head encased in a plastic bag. It was pulled tight and knotted around his neck. When the crime scene technician opened the bag it appeared that the back of his head was caved in. We’ll know more when the coroner examines the body.”

Obregon nodded. “Any other injuries?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “No bullet holes in the hull of the boat, no evidence of a struggle. Blood on the deck under the body, likely from the head wound. Blood had also soaked through his shirt and there was some on the upper edge of the boat hull. Technicians took samples but they’ll probably all come back as his.”

“Anything else?”

“The boat is his. His wife gave us the registration papers.” Emilia paused, discomfited by Obregon’s stare. The tension in the room was palpable. She glanced at Rico and plowed on. “They live in the same area as the hotel. The wife wasn’t much help regarding his whereabouts last night. The last person who could pinpoint his whereabouts last night was their maid. Said he got a phone call late in the evening and went out. Took the boat keys but nothing else.”

“Wife didn’t see him?”

“She had gone out to a charity event,” Emilia said. “Of course, we’ll be checking to verify her story.”

Obregon tipped the chair back. A thin silver chain showed inside the loose neck of the tee. His skin was smooth and his jaw was tightly defined. He looked like someone who worked out a lot. And liked showing off the results.

“So, Cruz, tell me how you’re going to proceed,” he said, as if Rico and Silvio weren’t even in the crowded office.

“We’ll set up a hotline and get detectives out talking to everyone at his apartment building and the hotel to see if we can piece together his last hour. He was apparently close to his brother. We’ll talk to him as well. Look at his phone records to see if we can find out who the late night caller was. Coroner’s report. Forensics on his laptop. See if we get any prints off the boat.”

Obregon nodded and straightened the chair. Even that simple movement belied grace and power and focused intent. “This is how the investigation is going to go.” He pointed at Emilia. “You’re appointed acting lieutenant. Do whatever you want with these clowns”–he snapped his fingers at Silvio and Rico–“and the other cases you’ve got but I want you to personally head the Inocente investigation.”

Both Silvio and Rico froze as if they couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.

“Chief Salazar has already been notified. You’ll report directly to my office every few days until this thing is over.” Obregon indicated Villahermosa who’d remained by the door during the entire conversation, like a large, menacing statue. Obregon’s deputy was even bigger than Silvio, with legs the size of tree trunks. Another former boxer, no doubt. “Villahermosa will be on call to assist as well.”

The tension in the room was now tinged with menace. Emilia struggled to keep breathing normally.

“Cruz is a junior detective.” Silvio’s voice was tight. “She doesn’t have the experience or the seniority to be acting lieutenant.”

“Cruz has my full support,” Obregon said.

“With respect,” Silvio said. “We understand that. But she’s not the senior detective here.”

“Nobody’s asking for your fucking opinion,” Obregon blazed. His eyes drilled into Silvio. “Cruz is in charge as of now. Thanks for coming.”

Villahermosa pulled open the door and jerked his chin at Silvio and Rico. They both walked out.

Emilia stood rooted to the spot as her mind jumped around. Why had he chosen her? Did the union have the authority to put her in this position?

Obregon motioned to Villahermosa and the man left the office, too. And then it was just Obregon and Emilia. He walked round the desk again and rifled through a few of the papers on the desktop.

“The mayor has a press conference tomorrow and she’ll want to say something about the Inocente investigation,” Obregon said as he looked through the papers. “Be nice if you could have this all wrapped up by then.”

Emilia felt as if she’d been gutted. She forced a single word out around the tightness in her throat and the dryness in her mouth. “Sure.”

She must have sounded sassier than she felt because he looked up and laughed. “At any rate, we’ll meet beforehand to review what you’re going to tell her. Let’s say tomorrow 4:00 pm.”

He glanced at his watch, an expensive-looking silver job with three knobs on the side. “That gives you more than 24 hours to come up with something significant.”

Emilia licked her lips. “I won’t even have the phone records by then.”

“You’ll have something for the press conference,” Obregon said nastily. “Some nice sound bite about the diligence of the Acapulco police and how they’re sad but determined.”

“You want me to say this to the mayor?”

“Inocente was as dirty as they come.” Obregon turned his attention back to the overflowing inbox. “You’re going to turn up a lot of bad things. When you do, you tell me or Villahermosa. Not the other detectives and not the chief of police. You don’t arrest anybody, you don’t get yourself shot, you don’t do anything. I’ll take care of that part.”

Emilia’s heart hammered like a warning bell in her chest. “I think Silvio should be in charge of this investigation. He’s the senior detective.”

“If you find that the wife popped him,” Obregon went on. “And you know it beyond a shadow of a doubt, go ahead and arrest her. Otherwise come to me first. Nobody else.”

“Did you hear what I said?” Emilia said.

“I’m trying to clean up the police in this state,” Obregon said as he plucked a folder out of the box. As he flipped it open his hands knotted with veins, as if he had a lot of practice clenching and unclenching his fists. “I’m sick of the corruption and men like Inocente making deals with the cartels. People like him protect their empires, feed it with drugs and private armies. When you find out who killed Inocente we can probably roll up whatever cartel he was in bed with.”

“Why me?” Emilia asked. She was talking to his bent head as if he couldn’t be bothered to look her in the eye. The warning bell was deafening and Emilia knew she had to get herself out of this situation. Silvio should have this job. Or Loyola. They’d know how to deal with Obregon as well as how to conduct a major murder investigation. “You heard what Silvio said. Almost all the detectives out there are senior to me. There will be a lot of resistance. From all the other detectives. Enough to keep the investigation from going forward.”

“You’ll handle it.” Obregon read something else out of the inbox.

“You don’t understand.” Emilia slammed her hand down on the desktop to get his attention.

“Good,” he said, finally looking up from whatever he’d been reading. “You’ve got a fire in the belly. You get those detectives talking to everybody in that fucking hotel. Everybody who lived near him. Whoever even heard of Fausto Inocente. And if the boys don’t do what you say, shoot one of them. The rest will fall in line.”

He was serious.

“I don’t know who you think I am, señor,” Emilia gulped. “But I’ve only been a detective for two years. Mostly I’ve handled the crap cases. You need a seasoned investigator on this one. Get one of the other detectives to be acting lieutenant.”

“You’ve made quite a mark in two years, whether you know it or not,” Obregon said. “Recovering the Morelos de Gama child was a big deal.”

“The media made it out to be more than it was,” Emilia parried. “The case was handled in Ixtapa, not here.”

“We’ve been watching you.” He tossed the file onto the desk and regarded her. “Our girl detective. You’re a hungry one. You want to get someplace.”

“I’m sorry,” Emilia said. “Not this.”

“You’re the only woman here.” Obregon’s glance was searing.

“This is because I’m a woman?”

“Yes. Everybody knows women are less corrupt.” Obregon came around the side of the desk and Emilia resisted the urge to shrink away from him. “You do this or you won’t even be able to be hired on as the lowliest transito cop in any police force in this state.”

He leaned down and put his face close to hers. “You know he was corrupt. Up to his neck in shit. Well, I’m the person putting an end to it in the state of Guerrero, and you don’t get to choose sides.”

***

Author Bio

Carmen Amato turns lessons from a 30-year career with the Central Intelligence Agency into crime fiction loaded with intrigue and deception.”

Her award-winning Detective Emilia Cruz mystery series pits the first female police detective in Acapulco against Mexico’s drug cartels, government corruption, and social inequality.

Described as “A thrilling series” by National Public Radio, the Detective Emilia Cruz series was awarded the Poison Cup for Outstanding Series from CrimeMasters of America in both 2019 and 2020 and has been optioned for television.

Originally from upstate New York, Carmen was educated there as well as in Virginia and Paris, France, while experiences in Mexico and Central America ignited her writing career.

Her family tree includes a mayor, a Mensa genius, and the first homicide in the state of Connecticut with an automatic weapon. The perpetrator, her great-grandfather, eluded a state-wide manhunt after killing two people–one of whom was his wife. He was never brought to justice. Carmen is a recipient of both the National Intelligence Award and the Career Intelligence Medal.

Grab a free copy of the Detective Emilia Cruz Starter Library at CarmenAmato.net.

You’ll see why Amazon Hall of Fame reviewer Grady Harp wrote: “For pure entertainment and a gripping story likely resulting in nail biting, read Carmen Amato’s addictive prose. She knows this territory like a jaguar!”

Social Media Links

CarmenAmato.net
Goodreads
BookBub – @CarmenAmato
Instagram – @authorcarmenamato
Facebook – @authorcarmenamato

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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f24bf84b773/?

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Dream Stalker by Nancy Gardner

Hi, everyone!

Today is my turn on the Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tour for an engaging new paranormal witch mystery/thriller – DREAM STALKER by Nancy Gardner.

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

Lily Scott had vowed never to dream-walk-again….

Lily is a contemporary Salem witch who descends from a long line of witches born with the power to walk into other people’s dreams to fight crime. But her disastrous first dream-walk almost killed her, and she vowed never to repeat the painful experience.

Now her daughter is falsely accused of murder, and the only way to clear her would be for Lily to enter the dreaming mind of the real killer, risking confrontation with the deadly Dream Stalker.

Can Lily summon the courage?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58186216-dream-stalker?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=uUXLKwhgPB&rank=1

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

DREAM STALKER: A Paranormal Mystery by Nancy Gardner is an engaging new paranormal witch mystery/thriller. The mystery is complete, but the ending does leave a few character-related open-ended questions that could lead to this being the first book in a series.

Lily Scott is a fifty-something widow living in Salem, Mass. with a complicated family life. She is also a witch. Lily comes from a long line of females in her family who are marked with a firefly birthmark and the ability to dream walk to uncover injustice, but it does come with the sometime consequence of facing and fighting the Dream Stalker. Her first dream walk as a young girl ended in near disaster and she has not dream walked since.

Lily’s daughter, Sarah is accused of murder, and she realizes that to save her family, she must find the courage to dream walk again.

I was impressed with how this new-to-me author was able to write engrossing, fully fleshed characters, while also pulling together paranormal elements, witch folklore and herbal teachings and an intricate mystery plot. It was all done seamlessly and with a believability that always kept me engaged and guessing. I never felt the author was cheating me with Lily’s ability being the only way to uncover facts and clues so that this mystery could be solved. I enjoyed all of Lily’s friends and was glad to see her family working on their rift.

I enjoyed this paranormal mystery/thriller, and I am hoping to be able to follow Lily and her friends and family on future mystery adventures.

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Excerpt

Chapter 1 Salem, Massachusetts—October 1, 2013

I stumbled through the early morning fog blanketing Salem’s Gallows Hill, hurrying to the oak tree that my maternal grandmother, Sadie MacAskill, loved. When I was a child, she’d taught me that witches like ourselves derive energy from working with green, growing plants and trees. I could still feel our arms stretched around the oak’s trunk, listening for the pulsing power within it.

“Feel Mother Earth’s wisdom rising,” she’d said.

I’d never needed wisdom more. The plan I’d cooked up with an old friend had gone terribly wrong. Kitty was supposed to bring my estranged daughter, Sarah, to dinner. Sarah’s favorite dinner, creamy chicken pesto and pasta, was baking in the oven when I got the call.

“Kitty hasn’t come home, and I’m not ready to see you without her. I may never be ready,” Sarah said, her voice cold and unforgiving. She hung up before I could reply.

When I called her back, she refused to answer. If my husband, Sam, had still been alive, he’d have known what to do. But he’d died two years ago.

It was long after midnight when I threw the cold casserole down the disposal and crawled into bed. When sleep proved impossible, I paced the empty rooms of our Chestnut Street home until dawn, then grabbed the nearly empty bottle of homemade dandelion brandy as an offering to Nana’s spirit and rode my Vespa to the park atop Gallows Hill.

Exhausted and headachy, I forgot to watch my step and tripped over a rock. I managed not to fall, but the bottle flew out of my hand. I watched it shatter, watched the last golden dregs seep into the grass. I felt like I was watching my relationship with my daughter ebb with it.

As I dropped shards of glass into the nearby trash can, the wind seemed to whisper that I didn’t deserve to find the wisdom I needed. I’d failed Nana, and I’d failed my daughter.

“Enough self-pity.” I pulled my leather jacket tighter and scurried past the crumbling pavilion and rusting flagpole to the ancient oak. Once again, I pressed my cheek to the rough bark, closed my eyes, and waited. The bark pulsed. A crow landed in the branches above me, cawing and shaking loose a shower of dead leaves. I opened my eyes, and for a moment, Nana’s face wavered before me. Then she was gone, leaving me with my questions unanswered.

My cell vibrated. Who would call me this early? Sarah? Kitty with an explanation? I checked the screen. Neither. Honey Campbell, my landlord and a good friend. She owned the building on Pickering Wharf where we both ran our businesses. Her barbershop took up the first floor. My herbal studio, Healing Thyme, sat above it.

“Hi, Honey. What’s up.”

“Thought you’d want to know your friend, Kitty, came looking for you,” Honey said in her soft Scottish brogue. “And bye-the-bye, she looked like shite. She stumbled off toward Moe’s. You might yet find her there.”

Two months earlier, Kitty had stopped me on the street. I’d taken her for a panhandler and almost turned her away. Then she said, “Lily, don’t you remember me? My parents took us to New York to see West Side Story. We had the best time.”

We’d shared a cup of coffee and Kitty shared her story. She’d been a high school biology teacher until she’d been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. The disease had taken everything from her: her teaching career, her home, her reason for living. She’d ended up lost on the streets.

Things had taken a turn for the better for Kitty when she found a permanent bed at St. Bridget’s Homeless Shelter and, because of the doctor who volunteered his services there, Kitty’s memory was making a remarkable improvement.

“Thanks, Honey. I’m on my way.” I dashed back to the Vespa, strapped on my helmet, and started the engine. Usually, the thrum of the engine beneath me and the slapping rhythm of my braid tapping against my back soothed me. Not this morning. I pressed the throttle and hurried to Pickering Wharf, determined to find out what had gone wrong last night.

***

Author Bio

Nancy Gardner writes cozy mysteries with a paranormal twist. The first novel in her new series, Dream Stalker, tells the story of Lily Scott, a contemporary Salem witch who walks into people’s dreams to fight crime. One reviewer called it a gripping tale of witchcraft, family loyalties, and the cost of seeking justice. Her most recent short story, “Death’s Door,” was selected to be included in the 2021 anthology, Malice Domestic 16: Mystery Most Diabolical. She lives near Boston with her writer husband, David.

Social Media Links

NancyGardnerAuthor.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @nancygardner5
Instagram – @ngauthor
Twitter – @NGardner_author
Facebook – @NancyGardnerAuthor

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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f24bf84b776/?

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Patriot Oath by Lloyd Lofthouse

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE PATRIOT OATH by Lloyd Lofthouse on this Virtual Author Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section, the author’s social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!

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Book Description

AND HE THOUGHT BEING IN THE MARINES WAS TOUGH …

After twenty-four years, Special Forces legend Josh Kavanagh has retired from the military. But now that he’s home, he’s finding that everyone has a different understanding of his motivations, and realizes that there are some wounds no amount of time can heal.

Josh’s traumatized sister, Suki, thinks her big brother is a hero and has come home to punish her rapist, the youngest son of a ruthless, crooked billionaire who lives to get revenge on anyone he sees as a threat to his family, wealth, and power.

Josh’s childhood sweetheart, Rachel, hopes he’s returning for her—the fierce girl he left behind when he joined the military. But Rachel doesn’t know about Mia, the woman in France …

And Josh isn’t coming home alone. The Oath Group, an elite force of private military contractors, is already in Montana waiting for their commander to arrive.

The DOD and CIA don’t want President Trump to know they hired Josh’s Oath Group to examine dangerous white supremacist militias that are threatening the U.S. Constitution. That covert black-ops military operation is starting in Idaho and Montana. Josh and his teams have to get the job done while preserving their anonymity—and their lives.

NOTE: This novel grew out of a prompt in a VA Vet Center PTSD support group that focuses on writing as a form of therapy. Everyone in that group was a combat veteran that included Marines, Special Forces, medics, combat photographers, et al. The combat vets in that group heard the entire novel as it was written chapter-by-chapter, starting in March 2018.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58744539-the-patriot-oath?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=QnG3Z63RVL&rank=1

THE PATRIOT OATH

by Lloyd Lofthouse

Publisher: Three Clover Press (July 8, 2021)
Category: Political Thriller, Native American, Terrorism, Psychological, Vigilante Justice, Kidnapping, Romance gone wrong, Suspense and Military.
Tour dates: November, 2021
ISBN: 978-0986032899
Available in Print and ebook, 266 pages

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My Book Review

RATING: 3 out of 5 Stars

THE PATRIOT OATH by Lloyd Lofthouse is an interesting mash-up of several genres that is an exciting, action-packed special ops military/political thriller intertwined with a contemporary romance and family drama. (NOTE: This story does include difficult emotional subject matter such as rape and PTSD.)

The action/adventure/revenge plot of this story were intense, interesting and a bit over the top, but that is what made it fun to read. Who does not want a hero and friends with special skills to stand against all injustice? There are political references and many religious quotes and references, so you must be open-minded as you read this book.

The romance plot in this book did not work for me. I cannot give details without giving away a big twist, but it does not fit the true genre rules of a romance. I would recommend going into this book with a realistic contemporary romantic elements view of the hero’s story than expecting a HEA second chance romance which would have been completely unbelievable.

If you want a fast-paced American heroes thriller this is an entertaining read.

***

Excerpt

**This excerpt appears in Chapter 3 starting on page 16 in the paperback**

When Josh reached the tree, he found the heart carved deep in the smooth grey-brown bark. Inside were the initials JK & RC, with 4EVER right below.

“I didn’t know you were the sentimental type,” Sammy said from behind him.

“I’m surprised this tree’s still alive. It must be forty feet tall now. It was half that back then.” Josh reached out with one hand and caressed the deep letters with his fingertips. “I never stopped loving Rachel. In boot camp, every morning when reveille sounded, I thought about her. I missed her something bad. It took a lot of years for my achy-breaky heart to heal. Even with other women, I often imagined I was with her.”

“Then why did you leave like you did?” Sammy asked.

Josh wasn’t ready to talk about that, so he changed the subject. “The first time I saw her was in second grade, and that’s when I knew she was special.”

Unbeknownst to the brothers, they were being watched. “Asshole!” Rachel growled. “We were in high school the first time you sang that ‘Achy Breaky’ Billy Ray Cyrus song to me. Back then, I thought it was cute. I was stupid to trust you.”

Hearing her voice caused Josh’s heart to stampede. While reeling in his ticker, he took his time turning around. “When I used those words just now, I wasn’t thinking about the song, Rachel.” It was a struggle to stay calm. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and discover her lips all over again.

She stood a few feet behind Sammy, who had jumped out of the way like a startled jackrabbit ready to run. His eyes were bouncing back and forth from her to his brother.

For Josh, she was an eye magnet. His gaze left her face and moved slowly down her body, loving every inch of her five-foot-three-inch frame. Her only sign of age was the weathered tone of her skin and the beginning of fine worry lines around her eyes. She looked better than he remembered; she was still slim and her hips had filled out, making for a damn sweet feast. It was apparent that the years had treated her kinder than they had treated him.

“What do you think I am,” she said, “a filly on the auction block?” From the look on her face, he knew he’d made a mistake checking her out like that. “Or maybe you think I’m a broodmare. I should poke your eyeballs out.”

He never imagined they’d be reunited on this spot. They’d been sixteen when they carved that heart in the tree and swore it was the symbol of their undying love. That was also the first of many times he said he’d never leave her.

“Yea, you broke that promise, too, dickhead.” The harsh tone of her voice stung.

“You always could read my mind,” he said.

“What shitbucket full of bunk are you going to dump on me now? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I want to know about the other women.” Her lips became a tight line, and her eyes flashed what he hoped was jealousy.

“What I did between boot camp in 1994 and today is history. It’s none of your business, just like what you did with your life isn’t mine.” He didn’t need to mention Luke, the abusive alcoholic gambler she’d married. She knew—no need to rub it in.

A moment of silence followed before she stabbed him with more words. “You broke my heart when you left.”

He squirmed, trying to look pitiful. “I can’t go back and fix it.” He didn’t know what else to say, so for the first time in twenty-four years, he let the words flow without controlling them. “Before I left on that bus to MCRD, I called your house and recorded a message on the answering machine.”

“You’re dumb as a rock,” she replied. “You knew that machine was broke.”

Jolted, he stammered. “I … forgot.” The embarrassment was stuck between his teeth. Then he thought about something that happened in second grade. He was sitting behind her and leaned forward to whisper that he loved her. Without turning around, she had stabbed him with a sharp pencil and broke the graphite off under his skin, leaving a dark spot below his right knee that was still there.

“I think we should go inside.” Sammy sounded nervous.

“Shut up!” Rachel turned her blazing eyes on him. “You and the rest of your family tricked me. I’ll take care of you all later.” She walked forward until she was inches from Josh, who was getting ready to take whatever beating she was going to dish out. He hoped it’d be with her fists instead of more words.

He stared into her angry green eyes. “Until today,” he said, “I didn’t know I was the father of your children.” …

***

About Lloyd Lofthouse

Multiple award winning author, Lloyd Lofthouse is a former U.S. Marine and combat vet with a BA in journalism and an MFA, with a focus on writing. He’s the author of the award-winning novels My Splendid Concubine, Running with the Enemy, The Redemption of Don Juan Casanova, and the memoir Crazy is Normal, a classroom exposé. His short story, A Night at the Well of Purity was named a finalist in the 2007 Chicago Literary Awards.

Social Media Links

Websites: http://lloydlofthouse.org/ & https://thesoulfulveteran.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lflwriter
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Lloyd-Lofthouse-168775989838050/

Buy Patriot Oath by Lloyd Lofthouse

Amazon (Get it on Sale During the Kindle Countdown Deal Nov 18-24)
Indiebound

***

RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

“http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/e23ee71d1517/”

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Mini Book Review: The Last Line by Robert Dugoni

Hi, everyone!

Today I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the blog tour for THE LAST LINE (Traci Crosswhite Book #8.5) by Robert Dugoni.

Below you will find an author Q&A, a book summary, my mini book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section, the author’s social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Author Q&A

From books to movies to television, police procedurals are incredibly popular with audiences. What do you think is the appeal of these stories?

I think the appeal is readers and viewers have good guys to root for and bad guys to root against. Readers also like a good mystery. They like to see if they can solve the crime, determine the bad guy and figure out what he did and how he did it, just like the detectives. It keeps them engaged in and part of the story.

Do you recall the first detective story you ever read or perhaps you have a favorite? What was it about this type of story that made you want to write in the genre?

Years ago, I remember reading Michael Connelly’s The Poet. I don’t know if it was the first detective story I read, probably not, but it was visceral and stuck with me. I do recall reading All The President’s Men when I was in high school, and though Woodward and Bernstein were not detectives, per se, they very much functioned like detectives in that story—finding clues, trying to piece together those clues, and then solve the puzzle. In many ways, that’s what a good detective story is all about: solving a puzzle. I think that is one of the appeals to writers, as well as readers and viewers.

Del Castigliano, the police detective in your newest release The Last Line, has worked in narcotics, arson, sexual assaults, robbery, and now homicide. He has definitely seen the worst that humans have to offer. What keeps him sane and on the job?

For most police officers I’ve spoken with, they do the job knowing that they are keeping people safe—maybe people they know or even love. It’s a tough job and burnout can be a problem. Most detectives have to be mentally tough and can be frequently rotated to help minimize burn out. It’s one of the reasons detectives and uniformed officers, I believe, are underappreciated. It’s a tough job.

Throughout The Last Line, readers get to see Del at his worst—he faces loss, failure, insecurity, loneliness…yet we also respect him. He is honest, hardworking, and clever. How do you see him? If you were to sit down to have a beer with him, what would you talk about?

In The Last Line, I see Del as a guy trying to find his way after life has thrown him a curveball. If we sat down for a beer, I’d ask him if, looking back, he has any regrets, or if time has helped him put life in perspective and he realizes that what he went through as a young man actually helped him to get to a better place in his life.

The Last Line ends in a way that will have readers wanting more. Do you have any future plans for Del and the larger cast?

Very much so. Del is a central character in the Tracy Crosswhite series, and in Tracy #9, What She Found, the story of Del’s first case from The Last Line comes back to Tracy, who is now working a cold case and trying to figure out what happened 24 years ago.

For fans of your bestselling Tracy Crosswhite series, will they feel at home with Del as the lead protagonist? For readers who haven’t discovered Tracy yet, will they be able to dip right in?

Absolutely. The Last Line is a standalone story that predates Tracy arriving at Seattle PD. I’ve had so many readers ask me for more of Del and Faz! Writing The Last Line was an opportunity to dig into how they got started and what shaped them. I have a thought now about Tracy #10 being a cold case that Del and Faz investigated 25 years earlier and telling the story from both time periods leading up to Tracy solving the crime in the present.

What do you have coming up next?

The third book in the Charles Jenkins espionage series, The Silent Sisters, will be published, February 22, 2022, followed by Tracy #9, What She Found, which will be out August 23, 2022. Beyond that, readers can look for a new standalone legal thriller introducing criminal defense attorney Keera Duggan. I’m excited about that novel and working hard to get it finished soon.

***

Book Summary

His old life in the rearview, Del Castigliano has left Wisconsin to work homicide for the Seattle PD. Breaking him in is veteran detective Moss Gunderson, and he’s handing Del a big catch: the bodies of two unidentified men fished from Lake Union. It’s a major opportunity for the new detective, and Del runs with it, chasing every lead—to every dead end. Despite the help of another section rookie, Vic Fazzio, Del is going nowhere fast. Until one shotgun theory looks to be dead right: the victims are casualties of a drug smuggling operation. But critical information is missing—or purposely hidden. It’s forcing Del into a crisis of character and duty that not even the people he trusts can help him resolve.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58481394-the-last-line?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=9IQyTbCfUR&rank=3

THE LAST LINE

Author: Robert Dugoni

Page Count: 53 pages

Release Date: October 21, 2021

Publisher: Amazon Original Stories

***

My Mini Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE LAST LINE (Tracy Crosswhite Book #8.5) by Robert Dugoni is a short story which takes us back in time to when Delmo Castigliano first becomes a homicide detective for the Seattle PD. This is a prequel that features Del’s first lead on a homicide case and the beginning of his friendship with another rookie detective, Vic Fazzio.

Del is paired with veteran detective Moss Gunderson and they are called out to investigate two bodies fished out of Lake Union. Moss gives Del the lead, but every trail is a dead end until he reinterviews the harbormaster that Moss interviewed alone. Information is missing and Del goes to Vic for advice and assistance. Everyone does not have Del’s back, and he learns a valuable lesson.

I was immediately hooked. This short story has familiar characters from the Tracy Crosswhite series in an intriguing case from their pasts that is quickly read. This 1990’s case cements Del and Faz’s friendship and I am looking forward to how it impacts Del in the present.

***

Excerpt

Del drove from the parking garage into a blustery and cold November morning—cold being relative. In Madison, anything above freezing was balmy for November, though Del was starting to understand what Seattleites meant when they said it wasn’t the temperature that chills you; it’s the dampness. He could feel the cold in his bones. A stiff wind rocked his metallic-blue Oldsmobile Cutlass.The wind had started blowing late the prior evening; branches of a tree scraping against Del’s bedroom window had kept him awake half the night.

He drove from Capitol Hill with the defroster on high and worked his way around the southern edge of Lake Union, noting marinas and water-based businesses. He pulled into a parking lot where Moss stood beside a black Buick LeSabre, sipping coffee and towering over a patrol officer. Moss was almost as big as Del, who stood six foot five and weighed 250 pounds.

Del pulled up the collar of his coat against the howling wind as he approached the two men. He recognized the green logo on Moss’s Starbucks coffee cup, the company name taken from Captain Ahab’s first mate on the Pequod, the whaling ship Moby Dick sent to the bottom of the ocean. The logo, a green siren, tempted sailors to jump overboard and drown. Neither was a good omen.

“Look what the cat dragged out. Did we wake you, Elmo?”

“Funny.” Del had heard iterations of Elmo since his teens, when the beloved puppet first appeared on Sesame Street. Moss introduced Del to Mike Nuccitelli, the patrol sergeant. “How’d you get here so quick?” Del asked Moss. He understood Moss lived in West Seattle, twenty minutes farther from the marina than Del’s apartment.

“I didn’t take time to do my hair.” Moss rubbed the bristles of a crew cut. “I’m like my name. You know. A rolling stone.”

Del knew. More than once, Moss had told him his parents bequeathed him the moniker because as a child he never remained still. Vic Fazzio had said it was more likely Moss gave himself the nickname. His Norwegian first name was Asbjorn.

“Halloway here?” Del asked.

“At this hour of the morning?” Moss scoffed. “Stayaway doesn’t come out this early on a cold morning unless he thinks the brass might show up and he can shine their badges with his nose.”

“What do we got?” Del asked.

“Two grown men. Looks like they drowned,” Nuccitelli said. “We’re waiting for the ME.”

“What more do we know about the victims; anything?” Del asked.

Nuccitelli raised the fur collar of his duty jacket against the wind. “Hispanic is my guess, though the bodies are pretty bloated and their skin the color of soot. I’m guessing roughly late twenties to early thirties, but again . . .”

“They didn’t have any ID?” Del asked.

“Not on them,” Nuccitelli said.

“That strike you as odd—they didn’t have ID?”

Nuccitelli smiled.“Not my job.That’s your job.”

“How far out is the ME?” Moss looked and sounded disinterested.

Nuccitelli checked his watch.“Should be here in ten.”

“We’ll take it from here.”

***

About the Author

Robert Dugoni is the critically acclaimed New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, and Amazon Charts bestselling author of the Tracy Crosswhite series, which has sold more than seven million books worldwide. He is also the author of the bestselling Charles Jenkins series; the bestselling David Sloane series; the stand-alone novels The 7th Canon, Damage Control, The World Played Chess, and The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell, Suspense Magazine’s 2018 Book of the Year, for which Dugoni won an AudioFile Earphones Award for narration; and the nonfiction exposé The Cyanide Canary, a Washington Post best book of the year. He is the recipient of the Nancy Pearl Book Award for fiction and a three-time winner of the Friends of Mystery Spotted Owl Award for best novel set in the Pacific Northwest. He is a two-time finalist for the Thriller Awards and the Harper Lee Prize for Legal Fiction, as well as a finalist for the Silver Falchion Award for mystery and the Mystery Writers of America Edgar Awards. His books are sold in more than twenty-five countries and have been translated into more than two dozen languages.

Social Media Links

Website: www.robertdugoni.com

Twitter: www.twitter.com/robertdugoni

Facebook: www.fb.com/AuthorRobertDugoni

Instagram: www.instagram.com/robertdugoni

***

RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/07c2363f272

Feature Post and Book Review: Rogue Christmas Operation by Juno Rushdan

Hi, everyone!

I have been posting Feature Post and Book Review blog posts on the Harlequin Investigators Blog Tour for all of these great reads throughout this month and last.

Today I am sharing my blog post for ROGUE CHRISTMAS OPERATION (Fugitive Heroes: Topaz Unit Book #1) by Juno Rushdan.

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 link. This is my last post for this tour. Enjoy!

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Book Description

He’ll sacrifice his safety

…for a woman who could completely upend his Christmas.

After Gage Graham saves her from drowning, Hope Fischer revives, determined to learn the truth about her sister’s death. All she has to do is infiltrate a mysterious closed Virginia town and discover why the attractive—but secretive—Gage feels compelled to help her. Can she trust him? Will he risk being discovered by his former employer, the CIA, for a woman he just met? Neither will matter if a killer succeeds.

Add Rogue Christmas Operation to your Goodreads!

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

ROGUE CHRISTMAS OPERATION (Fugitive Heroes: Topaz Unit Book #1) by Juno Rushdan is an action-packed, edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense. This book is the start of a new Harlequin Intrigue series by a new-to-me author. While Christmas is in the title and when the book is set, it is not really a holiday read, but it is an excellent romantic suspense.

Hope Fischer is a globe-trotting photojournalist who is notified that her sister, Faith has committed suicide. Hope finds everything about the supposed facts regarding her sister’s death unbelievable and she is willing to do anything to get to the truth.

Gage Graham rescues Hope from drowning as her car crashes on the rode to the Benediction, which is a rural Virginia closed town, locked down by the government. Gage feels compelled to help Hope find what truly happened to her sister even as it may cost him his safe sanctuary and expose him to his former CIA employer.

Can Gage and Hope trust each other enough to uncover the truth, find a killer and escape with their lives?

I read this book in one sitting. It is exciting and has two fast-paced suspense plots which are both equally intriguing. You get the main suspense plot of the H/h searching for the truth of Faith’s death and the secondary suspense plot featuring the Topaz Unit hiding out while they attempt to figure out why they have been targeted for elimination. Hope and Gage are engaging main characters who both love family, are intelligent and resilient. The danger they are in speeds up their connection and trust, but I never felt like it was forced or unbelievable in this story. The sex scenes are explicit, but not gratuitous. This new-to-me author gave me everything I am looking for in a Harlequin Intrigue and I will definitely be looking for more of her stories.

I highly recommend this romantic suspense and I am anxiously waiting for the next book in the Topaz Unit series!

***

Excerpt

She’d been warned. That’s what everyone wanted. For her to leave it all alone. To go back to California and bury her head in the sand.

But then a murderer would go free.

She had failed her sister once. Not again. She swallowed past the ball of anxiety in her throat. You can do this.

The SUV zoomed up alongside her, sending a new wave of fear crashing through her. What was he doing?

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the SUV swerved sharply. The front end slammed into her side of the car, propelling it into a wild slide toward the edge.

Hope panicked, hitting the brakes. The wheels locked. Her vehicle lost traction and went into a skid. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast.

Spinning out of control, her car missed a large tree and slid over the edge of the slope. A high-pitched cry escaped her lips. Dirt and rocks spit up. She tried to straighten the steering wheel and pumped the brakes. Her car fishtailed, clipped a tree and went airborne.

The sedan flipped. Rolled end over end down the gradient. Metal crunched and groaned around her.

Hope’s seat belt jerked hard across her body, cutting off her oxygen for a second.

The airbag deployed like a hot fist, knocking her head back against the seat. Dust and chemicals saturated the air.

Her lungs seized as a scream lodged in her throat.

The car slammed to a stop with the impact of crashing into a brick wall. Her skull smashed into something hard.

A riot of pain flared…everywhere. In her head, chest, bones—even her teeth hurt.

Her vision blurred. Not that it mattered. She couldn’t see past the airbag, which was the size of a large beach ball in her face.

Hope pushed on the light fabric, and the airbag deflated. Coughing, she wiped at the wetness coming from her nose with the back of her hand. Blood. Her nose was bleeding.

She switched on the interior light and pushed the deflated airbag out of her way.

The headlights were still on.

Water.

The car was in the lake. Beneath the water, or at least half of it. The weight of the engine pitched the front end forward, so that the car was almost pointing straight down. She looked back at the rear window. Rain and darkness.

Water was starting to seep inside the vehicle. The foot well was filling up as water rushed in. Faster and faster.

Hope pressed the button to release the seat belt. But nothing happened. It was stuck, jammed tight. She yanked on the belt, trying again, tugging and pushing. Praying.

Oh, God. She was trapped.

Icy water rose past her hips to her waist. Shockingly cold. Her toes were already growing numb, and she was shivering. She had to get out. Now!

Her purse floated up on the passenger’s side. If she reached it, got to the Swiss Army knife inside, she could cut herself free.

She extended her hand in the water. Her bag was inches from her fingertips. She stretched out as much as she could, straining her arm muscles. A pang wrenched through her chest, her eyes tearing at the intense pain, but she didn’t stop. She kept reaching for her purse. Almost had it. The bag was so close—she needed to stretch a hair farther, but the seat belt had her pinned.

The car shifted, still moving. Down and down it sank. The car tipped to the side, and water carried her purse away, out of reach.

***

About the Author

Juno Rushdan draws from real-life inspiration as a former U.S. Air Force Intelligence Officer to craft sizzling romantic thrillers. However, you won’t find any classified leaks here. Her stories are pure fiction about kick-ass heroes and strong heroines fighting for their lives as well as their happily-ever-after.

Although Juno is a native New Yorker, wanderlust has taken her across the globe. Fortunately, she is blessed with a husband who shares her passion for travel, movies, and fantastic food. She’s visited more than twenty different countries and has lived in England and Germany. Her favorite destination for relaxation is the Amalfi Coast, Italy for its stunning seascape, cliffside lemon groves, terraced vineyards, amazing pasta, and to-die-for vino.

When she’s not writing, Juno loves spending time with her family. Exercise is not her favorite thing to do, but she squeezes some in since chocolate and red wine aren’t calorie-free.

She currently resides in Virginia with her supportive hubby, two dynamic children, and spoiled rescue dogs. Check her out on Instagram, Facebook or follow her on Twitter or BookBub. She loves to connect with readers!

Social Media Links

Website: https://junorushdan.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/junorushdan/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JunoRushdan Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/junorushdan/

Buy Rogue Christmas Operation by Juno RushdanHarlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335555410_rogue-christmas-operation.html

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Sisters of the Great War by Suzanne Feldman

Hi, everyone!

Today I am excited to be on the HTP Books Fall 2021 Women’s Fiction Blog Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SISTERS OF THE GREAT WAR by Suzanne Feldman.

Below you will find an author Q&A, 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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Author Q&A

Q: Your books have won quite a few awards. Do you ever feel pressure when you write a new book to make it an award winning book?

A: I do love awards and who doesn’t? (I’m striving for a Pulitzer!) But awards are sort of a wonderful perk for what I already love doing, which is making something big from a little spark of an idea. I think it’s a stretch to think to yourself, ‘I’m going to write something for THIS award.’ because what if the book doesn’t win anything? I’m much happier just writing and editing until I think it’s ready to go out into the world–then we’ll see how it does.

Q: What inspired this book?

A: Sisters of the Great War was a four-year project that started one morning as I walked into my classroom at some pre-dawn hour. I’d been thinking about my next project after ‘Absalom’s Daughters’ and I knew I wanted to write a war story–but there were already so many books about WW2. So I thought, what about WW1? Could I write something epic yet intimate about that period? I wrote on a post-it: ‘WW1; epic yet intimate,’ and put it in my pocket. After school that day, I found the post-it and by some miracle, I still knew what I’d meant.

I started doing research and realized pretty quickly that the reason WW1 literature peaked with All Quiet on the Western Front was because it was a trench war, and over the space of four years, the trenches barely moved so there were very few ‘victories.’ The war itself was awful beyond description. Troops went out and were mowed down by new weapons, like the machine gun, tanks, and poisonous gas. It’s hard to write a glorious book about a barbaric war that had no real point, so I decided to explore the lives of the forgotten women–the nurses and ambulance drivers who were in the thick of the action, but not really mentioned in the movies and books about the period.

Q: Where is your favorite place to write?

A: I have a room where I write, my ‘office.’ I have all my favorite art, my most-loved books, and a bed for my dog. I love being able to close the door and just get into the groove of writing, but I have been known to write in coffee shops and libraries. When I was teaching, when I would get an idea, I would write on a post-it and put it in my pocket, so, yes, technically I have written at work as well.

Q: Do you have a writing routine?

A: My writing routine involves getting really wired on coffee in the morning and then taking a long walk with my dog, sometimes by the river and sometimes in the mountains. I get my ideas for the day in order, and the dog gets tired. Then I spend about four hours working on writing projects–sometimes novels, sometimes short stories, and drinking a lot more coffee. By then the dog has woken up, and we go out for another walk. I like to treat writing as a job. It’s not too exciting, but it works for me.

Q: Are you a plotter or pantser when it comes to writing?

A: I’m a pantser and proud of it! I love not really knowing what’s going to happen, and I love the discovery of plot points and personalities that might not show up in an outline. My favorite part is when a character does something on the page that I never thought of, and I get to go with that. What’s funny is that as a teacher (before I retired) I needed a plan for everything!

Q: What is a fun fact about you?

A: I was a high school art teacher for almost 30 years, and I am also a visual artist. I do a lot of abstract painting, which you can see on my Instagram account, Suzanne Feldman Author. I’ve taught every art class you can imagine, from darkroom photography to ceramics. I had a wonderful time teaching, and I loved nearly all of my students.

***

Book Summary

Two sisters. The Great War looming. A chance to shape their future.

Sisters Ruth and Elise Duncan could never have anticipated volunteering for the war effort. But in 1914, the two women decide to make the harrowing journey from Baltimore to Ypres, Belgium in order to escape the suffocating restrictions placed on them by their father and carve a path for their own future.

Smart and practical Ruth is training as a nurse but dreams of becoming a doctor. In a time when women are restricted to assisting men in the field, she knows it will take great determination to prove herself, and sets out to find the one person who always believed in her: a handsome army doctor from England. For quiet Elise, joining the all female Ambulance Corps means a chance to explore her identity, and come to terms with the growing attraction she feels towards women. Especially the charming young ambulance driver who has captured her heart.

In the twilight of the Old World and the dawn of the new, both young women come of age in the face bombs, bullets and the deadly futility of trench warfare. Together they must challenge the rules society has placed on them in order to save lives: both the soldiers and the people they love.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55004534-sisters-of-the-great-war?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=FA1UTQ6zRJ&rank=1

SISTERS OF THE GREAT WAR

Author: Suzanne Feldman

ISBN: 9780778311225

Publication Date: October 26, 2021

Publisher: MIRA Books

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

SISTERS OF THE GREAT WAR by Suzanne Feldman is a Woman’s fiction/historical fiction story which follows two American sisters who volunteer to work at the front during WWI. Both want to escape the conventional roles society and their father demand they follow.

Ruth Duncan has grown up assisting her doctor father and dreams of attending a medical school to train as a doctor rather than the nursing school she is currently attending. Her father refuses to even consider assisting her and wants her to be a nurse then a wife and mother.

Elise Duncan has grown up being able to take anything mechanical apart and put it back together again. She is currently living at home and is the mechanic for her father’s car he needs for house calls. She has always felt different than other girls and her father believes she will continue to live at home and never marry.

Both sisters want their freedom and travel to England to join the war effort. Ruth volunteers as a nurse and Elise follows volunteering as an ambulance driver and are sent to the front at Ypres, Belgium. As both adjust to the appalling conditions, they also both seize the opportunities to realize their dreams. The sisters suffer heartache and loss, but also realize their resilience and strengths. Bonds of friendship are forged that cannot be broken by war.

I really enjoyed this story even as there are many scenes depicting the horrors and suffering of the troops and volunteers during WWI. The field hospital doctors and nurses had to deal with so much loss and the lack of current medical knowledge and antibiotics underscore how lucky we are with the medicine of today. The sister’s personal dreams and love interests are depicted with strength, vulnerability and empathy. This Women’s fiction/historical fiction story realistically depicts some of the horrors of WWI, feminist issues and an LGBT relationship all through the eyes of two American sisters.

I recommend this Women’s fiction/historical fiction story.

***

Excerpt

Baltimore, Maryland

August 1914

Ruth Duncan fanned herself with the newspaper in the summer heat as Grandpa Gerald put up a British flag outside the house. If he’d had a uniform—of any kind—he would have worn it. People on the sidewalk paused and pointed, but Grandpa, still a proper English gent even after almost twenty years in the U.S., smoothed his white beard and straightened his waistcoat, ignoring the onlookers.

“That’s done,” he said.

Ruth’s own interest in the war was limited to what she read in the paper from across the dining table. Grandpa would snap the paper open before he ate breakfast. She could see the headlines and the back side of the last page, but not much more. Grandpa would grunt his appreciation of whatever was in-side, snort at what displeased him, and sometimes laugh. On the 12th of August, the headline in the Baltimore Sun read; France And Great Britain Declare War On Austria-Hungary, and Grandpa wasn’t laughing.

Cook brought in the morning mail and put it on the table next to Grandpa. She was a round, grey-haired woman who left a puff of flour behind her wherever she went.

“Letter from England, sir,” Cook said, leaving the envelope and a dusting of flour on the dark mahogany. She smiled at Ruth and left for the kitchen.

Grandpa tore the letter open.

Ruth waited while he read. It was from Richard and Diane Doweling, his friends in London who still wrote to him after all these years. They’d sent their son, John, to Harvard in Massachusetts for his medical degree. Ruth had never met John Doweling, but she was jealous of him, his opportunities, his apparent successes. The Dowelings sent letters whenever John won some award or other. No doubt this was more of the same. Ruth drummed her fingers on the table and eyed the dining room clock. In ten minutes, she would need to catch the trolley that would take her up to the Loyola College of Nursing, where she would be taught more of the things she had already learned from her father. The nuns at Loyola were dedicated nurses, and they knew what they were doing. Some were out-standing teachers, but others were simply mired in the medicine of the last century. Ruth was frustrated and bored, but Father paid her tuition, and what Father wanted, Father got.

Ruth tugged at her school uniform—a white apron over a long white dress, which would never see a spot of blood. “What do they say, Grandpa?”

He was frowning. “John is enlisting. They’ve rushed his graduation at Harvard so he can go home and join the Royal Army Medical Corps.”

“How can they rush graduation?” Ruth asked. “That seems silly. What if he misses a class in, say, diseases of the liver?”

Grandpa folded the letter and looked up. “I don’t think he’ll be treating diseases of the liver on the battlefield. Anyway, he’s coming to Baltimore before he ships out.”

“Here?” said Ruth in surprise. “But why?”

“For one thing,” said Grandpa, “I haven’t seen him since he was three years old. For another, you two have a common interest.”

“You mean medicine?” Ruth asked. “Oh, Grandpa. What could I possibly talk about with him? I’m not even a nurse yet, and he’s—he’s a doctor.” She spread her hands. “Should we discuss how to wrap a bandage?”

“As long as you discuss something.” He pushed the letter across the table to her and got up. “You’ll be showing him around town.”

“Me?” said Ruth. “Why me?”

“Because your sister—” Grandpa nodded at Elise, just clumping down the stairs in her nightgown and bathrobe “—has dirty fingernails.” He started up the stairs. “Good morning, my dear,” he said. “Do you know what time it is?” “Uh huh,” Elise mumbled as she slumped into her seat at the table.

As Grandpa continued up the stairs Ruth called after him. “But when is he coming?”

“His train arrives Saturday at noon,” Grandpa shouted back. “Find something nice to wear. You too, Elise.”

Elise rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Ruth pushed the letter at her and got up to go. “Read it,” she said. “You’ll see.”

Ruth made her way down Thirty-Third Street with her heavy bookbag slung over one shoulder, heading for the trolley stop, four blocks away, on Charles. Summer classes were almost over, and as usual, the August air in Baltimore was impenetrably hot and almost unbreathable. It irritated Ruth to think that she would arrive at Loyola sweaty under her arms, her hair frizzed around her nurse’s cap from the humidity. The nuns liked neatness, modest decorum. Not perspiring young women who wished they were somewhere else.

Elise, Ruth thought, as she waited for a break in the noisy traffic on Charles Street, could’ve driven her in the motor-car, but no, she’d slept late. Her younger sister could do pretty much anything, it seemed, except behave like a girl. Elise, who had been able to take apart Grandpa’s pocket watch and put it back together when she was six years old, was a use-ful mystery to both Father and Grandpa. She could fix the car—cheaper than the expensive mechanics. , For some rea-son, Elise wasn’t obliged to submit to the same expectations as Ruth—she could keep her nails short and dirty. Ruth wondered, as she had since she was a girl, if it was her younger sister’s looks. She was a mirror image of their mother, who had died in childbirth with Elise. Did that make her special in Father’s eyes?

An iceman drove a sweating horse past her. The horse raised its tail, grunted, and dropped a pile of manure, rank in the heat, right in front of her, as though to auger the rest of her day. The iceman twisted in the cart to tip his hat. “Sorry Sister!”

Ruth let her breath out through her teeth. Maybe the truth of the matter was that she was the ‘sorry sister.’ It was at this exact corner that her dreams of becoming a doctor, to follow in her father’s footsteps, had been shot down. When she was ten, and the governess said she’d done well on her writing and math, she was allowed to start going along on Father’s house calls and help in his office downstairs. Father had let her do simple things at first; mix plaster while he positioned a broken ankle, give medicine to children with the grippe, but she watched everything he did and listened carefully. By the time she was twelve, she could give him a diagnosis, and she remembered her first one vividly, identifying a man’s abdominal pain as appendicitis.

“You did a good job,” Father had said to her, as he’d reined old Bess around this very corner. “You’ll make an excellent nurse one day.”

Ruth remembered laughing because she’d thought he was joking. Her father’s praise was like gold. “A nurse?” she’d said. “One day I’ll be a doctor, just like you!”

“Yes, a nurse,” he’d said firmly, without a hint of a smile. It was the tone he used for patients who wouldn’t take their medicine.

“But I want to be a doctor.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He hadn’t sounded sorry at all. “Girls don’t become doctors. They become nurses and wives. Tomorrow, if there’s time, we’ll visit a nursing college. When you’re eighteen, that’s where you’ll go.”

“But—”

He’d shaken his head sharply, cutting her off. “It isn’t done, and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

A decade later, Ruth could still feel the shock in her heart. It had never occurred to her that she couldn’t be a doctor because she was a girl. And now, John Doweling was coming to town to cement her future as a doctor’s wife. That was what everyone had in mind. She knew it. Maybe John didn’t know yet, but he was the only one.

Ruth frowned and lifted her skirts with one hand, balancing the bookbag with the other, and stepped around the manure as the trolley came clanging up Charles.

***

Author Bio

Suzanne Feldman, a recipient of the Missouri Review Editors’ Prize and a finalist for the Bakeless Prize in fiction, holds an MA in fiction from Johns Hopkins University and a BFA in art from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Her short fiction has appeared in Narrative, The Missouri Review, Gargoyle, and other literary journals. She lives in Frederick, Maryland.

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