Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for the first book in a new series with a female astrologist as the amateur sleuth by a new to me author. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE MADNESS OF MERCURY (A Zodiac Mystery Book #1) by Connie di Marco.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Synopsis
San Francisco astrologer Julia Bonatti’s life is turned upside down when she becomes a target of the Reverend Roy of the Prophet’s Tabernacle. The Reverend, a recently-arrived cult preacher, is determined to drive sin from the city, but his gospel of love and compassion doesn’t extend to those he considers an “abomination unto the Lord.” Julia’s outspoken advice in her newspaper column, AskZodia, has put her at the top of the Reverend’s list. While the powerful Mercury-ruled preacher woos local dignitaries, his Army of the Prophet will stop at nothing to silence not just Julia, but anyone who stands in his way.
Driven out of her apartment in the midst of a disastrous Mercury retrograde period, she takes shelter with a client who’s caring for two elderly aunts. One aunt appears stricken with dementia and the other has fallen under the spell of the Reverend Roy. To add to the confusion, a young man claiming to be a long-lost nephew arrives. The longer he stays, the more dangerous things become. One aunt slides deeper into psychosis while the other disappears. Is this young man truly a member of the family? Can astrology confirm that? Julia’s not sure, but one thing she does know is that Mercury wasn’t merely the messenger of the gods – he was a trickster and a liar as well.
THE MADNESS OF MERCURY (A Zodiac Mystery Book #1) by Connie di Marco is the first book in a new series with a female astrologist as the amateur sleuth by a new to me author.
Julia Bonatti is a successful astrologist in San Francisco. She accepts individual clients and answers letters anomalously as Ask Zodia in a San Francisco newspaper column. With an answer to a letter in her column, Julia suddenly becomes the target of a new cult leader Reverend Roy and his followers in the Prophet’s Tabernacle.
With Mercury in retrograde, Julia is chased from her apartment by protestors. The Reverend has the elite and government officials of the city in his thrall and is terrorizing all those who do not agree with his preaching. Julia moves in with a friend and client, Dorothy and her affluent elderly aunts. The gardener dies mysteriously in a fall on the property, one aunt believes Dorothy is trying to kill her and is showing signs of dementia, while the other aunt disappears to join the Reverend Roy’s followers in their secluded compound. Add a controlling ex trying to get Dorothy back and a long-lost relative showing up out of the blue, the charts do not look good for any of them.
Julia knows Mercury was a trickster and a liar. Will she be able to find the truth before anyone else dies?
I enjoyed this new mystery. Julia is a very likable amateur sleuth and the astrology is an interesting twist, even though I enjoy it as an entertainment and not as a way to live my life. I felt some of the astrology terminology was more than the average reader would care to know and it took me out of the story occasionally while reading. The secondary characters were fully-fleshed and I am looking forward to following them in future books in the series. The descriptions of San Francisco made me feel as though I was there. The plot had interesting twists and red-herrings and I was surprised at the ending, which I always consider a plus.
I can recommend this first book in the series and am looking forward to more mysteries with Julia.
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Excerpt
“Thank God you’re there.” Gale sounded very shaky.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m at the Mystic Eye. Something very strange just happened. I heard a knock at the back door. I thought it might be you.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I closed up and sent Cheryl home. When I opened the door . . . oh God, Julia. Someone left a dead cat on the doorstep.”
I cringed. “I’ll be right there.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t need to come. I wrapped it up and put it in plastic in the dumpster. It looked like its neck had been broken.”
“Don’t argue. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Less than that.”
I drove the length of California Street as fast as I could, slowing at each red light. Once I was sure no other cars were crossing I ran through several intersections. When I reached the Eye the shop was closed but the display lights were on in the front windows. I pulled down the alleyway and parked next to Gale’s car. I tapped on the door. “Gale, it’s me.” She opened the door immediately. The storeroom was dark. A stack of empty boxes and packing materials stood against the wall. Inside, the only light was a small desk lamp in the office.
Gale is tall and self-assured with a regal bearing. Tonight she was completely shaken. She hugged her arms, more from fright than from cold. “I feel bad now that I’ve called you. I was just so freaked out. I recognized the cat, it was the little gray one that hangs out behind the apartment building next door. I think it’s a stray. Everyone around here feeds it, even the restaurant people, and it’s such a friendly little thing. Some sick bastard probably gave it some food and then snapped its neck. God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Shouldn’t you call the cops?”
“And tell them what? I found a dead cat? Please. Like they’d listen. Even if they thought someone had killed it, what could they do?”
“It shows a pattern of harassment. Might be worth making a report.”
She sighed. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I just wasn’t thinking straight. I was so upset.” She collapsed in the chair behind her desk.
I shrugged out of my coat. “Why are you here so late?”
“We just got a huge shipment of books and supplies in. Cheryl’s been working late every night so I sent her home. I had just finished stacking the boxes in the storeroom.” Gale shivered involuntarily. “Look, let’s get out of here. Have you eaten? Why don’t we go up the block and grab some food? Actually a drink sounds even better.”
“Okay.”
“Get your coat. We can leave the cars here and walk. I’ll just get my purse.”
I headed to the front door and checked that the locks were all in place. The drapes separating the display windows from the shop were drawn for privacy. Gale left the desk lamp on in the office and walked out to the front counter. As she reached under the counter for her purse, we heard glass breaking. Then I saw a flash of flame through the doorway to the back storeroom. I screamed. The empty boxes and packing materials had caught fire in an explosive flash. The smoke alarm started to ring, filling the shop with earsplitting sound. Using my coat like a blanket, I dropped it over the center of the flaming pile. It wasn’t going to be enough, but I had to do something before the entire storeroom went up, if not the building.
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Author Bio
Connie di Marco is the author of the Zodiac Mysteries featuring San Francisco astrologer Julia Bonatti. The Madness of Mercury, the first book in the series will be re-released in October 2020.
Writing as Connie Archer, she is also the author of the national bestselling Soup Lover’s Mysteries from Berkley Prime Crime. You can find her excerpts and recipes in The Cozy Cookbook and The Mystery Writers of America Cookbook. Connie is a member of Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers and Sisters in Crime.
Today is my turn on the Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SLIGHTLY MURDEROUS INTENT: A Southern California Mystery (Corrie Locke Mystery Series Book #4) by Lida Sideris.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy and good luck on the giveaway!
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Book Synopsis
There’s a shooter on the loose who keeps missing his target. But that doesn’t stop him from trying again…and again. It’s up to Corrie Locke, rookie lawyer and spunky sleuth, to find the gunman before he hits his mark, Assistant Deputy D.A. James Zachary, Corrie’s hunky and complicated frenemy.
When Corrie is stuck with more questions than answers, she enlists a team with various strengths, from weapons to cooking skills, to help her find the shooter. Her computer whiz boyfriend Michael is onboard. So is former security guard Veera. Toss in an over-the-hill informant and a couple of feuding celebrity chefs and Corrie’s got her very own A-Team. Okay, maybe it’s more like a B-Team.
Can Team Corrie hunt down the shooter before he scores a bulls-eye?
Genre: Traditional Mystery with some Humor Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: October 20th 2020 Number of Pages: 280 ISBN: 9781947915930 Series: A Southern California Mystery, #4 || Each can be read as a Stand-Alone book
SLIGHTLY MURDEROUS INTENT: A Southern California Mystery (Corrie Locke Mystery Series Book #4) by Lida Sideris is the latest in this light mystery series featuring Corrie Locke. This is the first book I have read in this series and while the mystery plot stands on its own, I felt slightly confused in beginning until I caught up on some of the characters’ past interactions.
Corrie Locke is a young attorney for a film studio who is a sleuth on the side. She grew up with a famous P.I. father who was murdered. Now she has a closet full of weapons, the irrepressible attitude to fight for justice and a boyfriend who is a computer whiz.
There is an inept shooter on the loose and he appears to be after Corrie’s friend James. She pulls a unique team of friends together to catch the gunman before he finds his mark.
This fast-paced mystery is full of plot twists and red herrings which always makes for an intriguing read, but this author also uses quirky characters and humorous and witty dialogue to set it apart and it is very entertaining. Even though I had to catch up on the characters’ connections, I am interested in reading the next book to see how Corrie and her friends all move forward.
Overall, this is a well written mystery with a protagonist and secondary characters I would like to read about again.
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Excerpt
The last of my patience dripped onto the concrete floor beneath my feet. My fists clenched, my jaw tightened and my stomach rumbled like the start of an avalanche. I’d officially reached the cracking point.
“Today was V-day for us. Victory with a big fat V.”
Los Angeles Senior Deputy District Attorney Bruce Beckman stood at the head of our table, arms raised high. The first two fingers of each hand formed a “V”. Meanwhile, everyone’s dinner sat in front of them. Everyone’s, that is, but mine. All I had was an empty plate and an empty stomach.
“Where’s our server?” I whispered. The beach side diner was packed. “Did they run out of food?”
Beckman dropped his pose and glared at me so fiercely, my cheeks glowed from the heat.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. What did he expect? His mac n’ cheese was half eaten. I licked my lips.
“The case came close to swinging in the opposite direction,” Beckman continued. “We couldn’t have won today’s trial without this guy.” Beckman gestured toward the deputy D.A. sitting next to him.
I half stood and peered past the other diners. No sign of our server. “Slacker,” I mumbled. I slammed my napkin down beside my plate.
“Have some of mine,” Michael whispered. “Please, Corrie.”
If anyone else had offered, I would’ve cleaned his plate in thirty seconds. But Michael was my oldest friend slash newest boyfriend, and I loved him dearly from his dark floppy hair to the Chuck Taylors on his feet. We sat in a crowded hipster restaurant in Santa Monica, a hop, skip and a jump from the sparkling Pacific Ocean. Michael had barely touched his burger, waiting on my dinner with me. His stomach growled right alongside mine.
“Obviously, I picked the right man for the job,” Beckman said. “And gave him a few tips. Quite a few, actually.” He chuckled.
Weak laughter trickled around the table, followed by a groan. Did that come from me? Beckman shot me his signature scowl. I managed a shadow of an apology, and his attention returned to the man on his left. My hunger pangs took a brief hike while I assessed the object of Beckman’s praise. Assistant Deputy D.A. James Zachary flashed a grin. He was a sight for sore eyes. Or any eyes, for that matter.
“Thanks to James,” Beckman continued, “defense counsel didn’t stand a chance.”
Cheers erupted. I clapped and wriggled around in my seat. My stomach rumblings grew even louder. That’s what happened when my last meal was breakfast.
“I’ll be back,” I whispered to Michael and shoved away my chair. We sat around a table of five. Three of us were members of the world’s oldest profession. The oldest after toolmakers, farmers, the military and doctors. We were lawyers. I was the only lawyer unaffiliated with the D.A.’s office.
“Wait.” Michael took my hand.
Michael Parris wasn’t a lawyer, but he was the associate dean of the computer science department of a private tech college near downtown L.A. Michael’s lips were moving but shouting voices, clanging dinner plates and background music swallowed up his next words.
“What?” I leaned in closer, sniffing a sweet combo of sandalwood and fresh laundry that made my empty insides tingle.
He wiped his mouth on a napkin and said, “Stay here. I’ll go to the kitchen. Help yourself to my burger while you wait. I promise I won’t return empty-handed.”
“No, you stay. I want to make sure they get my order right.” I touched his shoulder. “Be back soon.”
We locked stares and his hazel eyes softened. “Two minutes. If you’re not back, I’m coming after you.”
I’d insisted my table mates eat without me, figuring my meal was on its way…fifteen minutes ago. I aimed for the kitchen, wading sideways between packed tables when I bumped into our server. She tried to push past, but I blocked the way.
“I’m still waiting,” I told her.
“No, you’re not,” she said. “You got served.”
“Crispy chicken sandwich with spicy slaw and chili cheese fries, hold the onions. It’s not on our table.” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder.
“I brought all the orders out personally.”
“Not mine.”
“You wanna talk to the manager?”
“I demand to talk to the manager.”
She tipped her head and pitched it to one side. “Big Sam’s up front by the cashier.”
I moved out of her path, and she hustled past. I continued my sideways trek, filing between chairs and dodging scurrying servers. Nearly closing time and the place was still hopping. I slowed and looked back at the kitchen. Maybe I’d get somewhere if I talked to the cook. I was about to swivel around when I spotted a manager-type; a stocky guy with a shaved head and goatee, chatting up a group of wannabe diners near the bar.
I headed for him and waited behind the blonde hostess. The cash register drawer popped open with a ping. She plucked wads of bills from beneath the drawer and shoved them into a vinyl bank bag.
“Excuse me,” I said.
She jumped and turned to me, zipping up the bag and pushing it behind her. “Yeah?” Long bangs stabbed at her eyes.
I pitched my chin toward the stocky guy. “That the manager?”
“He owns the place. Big Sam Neely.” Her attention went back to the bag. She unzipped it and continued stuffing bills inside.
I navigated closer to Big Sam and leaned against a pillar, waiting for a chance to butt into the conversation. Meanwhile, a lanky dude in a dark gray hoodie and faded jeans edged his way inside. His clothes were baggy; his hood was up and over his head. Only his nose, mouth and tinted shades were visible. Sunglasses at night weren’t unusual in L.A. I stared out at the room. A couple of diners wore shades. The guy in the hoodie flitted past me. He threw out his anchor near the hostess. My heartbeat quickened. The cash drawer still gaped open. I elbowed my way back toward him, half-expecting the guy’s hand to dart out and grab the bank bag, but he ignored the money. Instead, he eased forward and stared out toward the back of the diner. My gaze dropped to the lower left side of his jacket. The bottom edge had latched onto the large violin shaped leaf of an ornamental ficus, exposing the top of his jeans. My heart hammered against my chest. The grip of a revolver stuck out of his pocket.
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Author Bio
Lida Sideris’ first stint after law school was a newbie lawyer’s dream: working as an entertainment attorney for a movie studio…kind of like her heroine, Corrie Locke, except without the homicides. Lida was one of two national winners of the Helen McCloy Mystery Writers of America Scholarship Award for her first book. She lives in the northern tip of Southern California with her family, rescue dogs and a flock of uppity chickens.
Today is my turn on this new Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tour. I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SHADOW RIDGE (Jo Wyatt Mystery Book #1) by M.E. Browning. This is a great start to a new series and a realistic female protagonist.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Synopsis
Death is one click away when a string of murders rocks a small Colorado town in the first mesmerizing novel in M. E. Browning’s A Jo Wyatt Mystery series.
Echo Valley, Colorado, is a place where the natural beauty of a stunning river valley meets a budding hipster urbanity. But when an internet stalker is revealed to be a cold-blooded killer in real life the peaceful community is rocked to its core.
It should have been an open-and-shut case: the suicide of Tye Horton, the designer of a cutting-edge video game. But Detective Jo Wyatt is immediately suspicious of Quinn Kirkwood, who reported the death. When Quinn reveals an internet stalker is terrorizing her, Jo is skeptical. Doubts aside, she delves into the claim and uncovers a link that ties Quinn to a small group of beta-testers who had worked with Horton. When a second member of the group dies in a car accident, Jo’s investigation leads her to the father of a young man who had killed himself a year earlier. But there’s more to this case than a suicide, and as Jo unearths the layers, a more sinister pattern begins to emerge–one driven by desperation, shame, and a single-minded drive for revenge.
As Jo closes in, she edges ever closer to the shattering truth–and a deadly showdown that will put her to the ultimate test.
Genre: Mystery (police procedural) Published by: Crooked Lane Books Publication Date: October 6th 2020 Number of Pages: 395 ISBN: 1643855352 (ISBN13: 9781643855356) Series: A Jo Wyatt Mystery, #1 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Penguin Random House | Goodreads
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
SHADOW RIDGE (Jo Wyatt Mystery Book #1) by M.E. Browning is the first book in a new mystery/police procedural series featuring a female detective in a small Colorado town. I am a fan of the Mer Cavallo mystery series by this author written under the name of Micki Browning, so I was looking forward to reading this new book and I was not disappointed.
Detective Jo Wyatt is called to the scene of the apparent suicide of Tye Horton, a young and talented video game designer. Quinn Kirkwood called in the death when she went to pick up a joint project the two were working on. Jo is suspicious of the prickly young woman and she soon learns Quinn was one of a small group who beta tested a previous game for Tye.
Now, one by one the small group is either committing suicide or having lethal accidents until only Quinn is left. Jo’s investigation leads back to a suicide the previous year of the D.A.’s son. As the pieces come together the trail leads to a killer who is interested in their own twisted revenge.
I am a fan of this author’s writing. The mystery/crime is tightly plotted with a mix of perspectives and the characters are fully fleshed and realistic. Quinn’s perspective on the gaming community and Jo’s lack of computer savvy add not only plot points and interest, but a realism to all those not involved in that world. Jo not only has to deal with the case she is working on, but a messy personal life and sexual discrimination in her small police force. Jo’s complexity is what I am always looking for in a lead character and what keeps me coming back for more.
I highly recommend this book and I am looking forward to many more books in this series.
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Excerpt
Chapter One
Detective Jo Wyatt stood at the edge of the doorway of the converted garage and scanned the scene for threats. She’d have the chance to absorb the details later, but even at a glance, it was obvious the occupant of the chair in front of the flickering television wouldn’t benefit from her first-aid training. The stains on the ceiling from the gun blast confirmed that.
Officer Cameron Finch stood on the other side of the sorry concrete slab that served as an entrance. “Ready?”
The only place hidden from view was the bathroom, and the chance of someone hiding there was infinitesimal, but someone always won the lottery. Today wasn’t the day to test the odds. Not when she was dressed for court and without her vest.
She pushed the door open wider. Her eyes and handgun moved in tandem as she swept the room.
A mattress on the floor served as a bed. Stacks of clothes took the place of a real closet. A dorm-sized fridge with a hot plate on top of it made up the kitchen.
Jo avoided the well-worn paths in the carpet and silently approached the bathroom. Its door stood slightly ajar, creating enough space for her to peer through the crack. Never lowering her gun, she used her foot to widen the gap.
No intruder. Just a water-spotted shower stall and a stained toilet with the seat up. A stick propped open the narrow ventilation window above the shower. Too small for even the tiniest child, but an open invitation to heat-seeking raccoons.
“Bathroom’s clear.” She holstered her gun. The cut of her wool blazer fell forward and did its best to hide the bulge of her Glock, but an observant person could tell she was armed. One of the drawbacks of having a waist.
She picked her way across the main room, staying close to the walls to avoid trampling any evidence. A flame licked the edges of the television screen—one of those mood DVDs of a fireplace but devoid of sound. It filled the space with an eerie flicker that did little to lighten the gathering dusk.
Sidestepping a cat bowl filled with water, she stopped in front of the body and pulled a set of latex gloves from her trouser pocket.
“Really?” Cameron asked.
Jo snapped them into place, then pressed two fingers against the victim’s neck in a futile search for a pulse—a completely unnecessary act that became an issue only if a defense attorney wanted to make an officer look like an idiot on the stand for not checking.
The dead man reclined in a high-backed gray chair that appeared to have built-in speakers. In the vee of his legs, a Remington 870 shotgun rested against his right thigh, the stock’s butt buried in the dirty shag carpet. On the far side, a toppled bottle of whiskey and a tumbler sat on a metal TV tray next to a long-stemmed pipe.
“Who called it in?” Jo asked.
“Quinn Kirkwood. I told her to stay in her car until we figured out what was going on.”
Jo retraced her steps to the threshold, seeking a respite from the stench of death.
A petite woman stood at the edge of the driveway, pointedly looking away from the door. “Is he okay?”
So much for staying in the car. “Let’s talk over here.” Not giving the other woman the opportunity to resist, Jo grabbed her elbow and guided her to the illuminated porch of the main house, where the overhang would protect them from the softly falling snow.
“He’s inside, isn’t he?” Quinn pulled the drawstring of her sweat shirt until the hood puckered around her neck. “He’s dead.” It should have been a question, but wasn’t. Jo’s radar pinged.
“I’m sorry.” Jo brushed errant flakes from a dilapidated wicker chair and moved it forward for her. “Is there someone I can call for you?”
She shook her head.
“How well did you know—”
“Tye. His name is—was—Tye Horton.” Quinn played with the tab of her hood string, picking at the plastic that kept the ends from fraying.
Jo remained quiet, digesting the younger woman’s unease. She was all angles: sharp shoulders, high cheekbones, blunt-cut dark hair, and canted eyes that looked blue in the open but faded to grey here in the shadows.
A pile of snow slid from a bowed cottonwood branch and landed with a dull plop. The silence broken, Quinn continued to fill it. “We have a couple classes together up at the college. He missed class. I came over to see why.”
“Does he often cut class?”
“He didn’t cut class,” she said sharply. “He missed it.” She pulled out her cellphone. “The project was due today. I should tell the others.”
What would she tell them? She hadn’t asked any questions. The pinging in Jo’s head grew louder. “Did you go inside before the officer got here?” She looked at the woman’s shoes. Converse high-tops. Distinctive tread.
Quinn launched out of her seat, sending it crashing into the porch rail. “I called you guys, remember?”
“It’s a simple yes or no.”
The smaller woman advanced and Jo fought the impulse to shove her back. “No, Officer—”
“Detective Wyatt.”
The top of Quinn’s head barely reached Jo’s chin. “Tye and I were classmates with a project due, Detective. I called him, he didn’t answer. I texted him, he didn’t respond. He didn’t show up for the game last night, which meant something was wrong. He never missed a game.”
Football. Last night Jo had pulled on her uniform and worked an overtime shift at the Sunday night game. Despite the plunging temperatures, the small college stadium had been filled to capacity.
“Did you check on him afterward?” Jo asked.
“No.” Color brightened Quinn’s pale cheeks. “By the time the game ended, it was too late. After he missed class today, I came straight over. Called the police. Here we are. Now, can I go?”
“Was Tye having any problems lately?”
“Problems?”
“With school? Friends?”
“I shared a class with him.”
Another dodge. “You knew he wasn’t at the game.”
“I figured he was finishing up his end of the project. Are we done? I’ve got class tonight.”
“I need to see your identification before you leave.”
“Un-fucking-believable.” Quinn jammed her hand into her jacket pocket and removed an old-fashioned leather coin purse. Pinching the top, she drew out her driver’s license and practically threw it at Jo.
“I’m sure you understand. Whenever there is a death, we have to treat it as a crime until we determine otherwise.”
The air left Quinn in a huff of frost. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She dipped her face but not before Jo saw the glint of tears. “I’m just going to miss him. He was nice. I don’t have a lot of friends in Echo Valley.”
“Were the two of you dating?”
The sharpness returned to her features. “Not my type.”
“Do you know if he was in a relationship?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Would you know?”
Cameron joined the women on the porch and extended his hand to Quinn. “I’m Sergeant Finch.”
Jo sucked in her breath, and covered it with a cough. The promotional memo hadn’t been posted even a day yet.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Cameron added.
Quinn crossed her arms, whether for warmth or for comfort, Jo couldn’t tell. “Your badge says Officer. Aren’t sergeants supposed to have stripes or something?”
“It’s official next week.”
“So. Really just an officer.”
Jo bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Served him right for acting like an ass.
“I wouldn’t say just.” Cameron hooked his thumb in his gun belt.
“Of course you wouldn’t.” Quinn drew a deep breath and let it out as if she feared it might be her last. “What happened?” she finally asked.
Jo spoke before Cameron could answer. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” She opened her notebook.
Quinn sized up the two officers like a child trying to decide which parent to ask, and settled on Cameron. “Will you get me the laptop that’s inside? It’s got our school project on it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jo answered. “But until we process the scene, everything needs to stay put.”
Quinn sought confirmation from Cameron. “Really?”
Jo shot him a look she hoped conveyed the slow torturous death he’d suffer if he contradicted her and compromised the scene.
Cameron placed his hand on Quinn’s forearm. “I’m certain it won’t take long and I’ll personally deliver it to you as soon as I can.”
“Thanks.” She shook off his hand and addressed Jo. “Am I free to go?”
Prickly thing. Jo handed Quinn’s license back to her. “I’m truly sorry about your friend. May I call you later if I have any questions?”
Cameron stepped closer, all earnestness and concern. “It would be very helpful to the investigation when she realizes she forgot to ask you something.”
The coin purse snapped shut. “Sure. Whatever.”
“Thank you,” Jo said, then added, “Be careful.”
Quinn jerked. “What?”
The wind had picked up, and waves of snow blew across the walkway. Jo pointed toward the street. “The temperature drops any lower and it’ll start to ice up. Be careful. The roads are going to be slick.”
Quinn bobbed her head. Hunched against the cold, she climbed into her bright yellow Mini Cooper.
Snow had collected on the bumper and Jo noted the plate. She’d seen the car around town, its brilliant color and tiny chassis a contrast to the trucks and four-wheel-drive SUVs most locals drove.
The car crunched down the driveway. Jo returned to the task at hand, ignoring Cameron as he followed her.
Two buildings—the main residence and the converted garage—stood at the center of the property. The driveway dumped out onto an alley and the hum of downtown carried across the crisp air. Dogs barked. Cars slowed and accelerated at the nearby stop sign, their engines straining and tires chewing into the slushed snow. A sagging chain-link fence ringed the property, pushed and pulled by a scraggly hedge.
Built in the days when a garage housed only a car and not the detritus of life, the building was barely larger than a tack room. A small walkway separated the dwellings. She followed the path around the exterior of the garage.
Eaves kept snow off the paint-glued windowsill on the far side of the outbuilding. Rambling rosebushes in need of pruning stretched skeletal fingers along the wall. Jo swept the bony branches aside. A thorn snagged the shoulder of her blazer.
She studied the ground. Snow both helped and hindered officers. In foot pursuits, it revealed a suspect’s path. But the more time separated an incident from its investigation, the more it hid tracks. Destroyed clues. This latest snow had started in the early hours of the morning, gently erasing the valley’s grime and secrets and creating a clean slate. Tye could have been dead for hours. The snow told her nothing.
As she stood again at the door, not even the cold at her back could erase the smell of blood. The last of the evening’s light battled its way through the dirty window, failing to brighten the dark scene in front of her.
She tried not to let the body distract her from cataloging the room. Echo Valley didn’t have violent deaths often. In her twelve years on the department, she’d investigated only two homicides, one as an officer, the second as a detective. Fatal crashes, hunting accidents, Darwin Award-worthy stupidity, sure, but murder? That was the leap year of crimes and only happened once every four years or so.
Cameron joined her on the threshold and they stood shoulder to shoulder. He had a shock of thick brown hair that begged to be touched, and eyes that said he’d let you. “Why so quiet, Jo-elle?”
The use of her nickname surprised her. Only two people had ever called her that and Cameron hadn’t used it in a long time. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“What’s to miss? Guy blew his brains out.”
“It’s rarely that simple.”
“Not everything needs to be complicated.” He laughed. The boyishness of it had always charmed her with its enthusiasm. Now it simply sounded dismissive. Perhaps it always had been, but she’d been too in love to notice. “Hey, you got plans tonight?” He tried to sound innocent. She had learned that voice.
“Other than this? I don’t see as that’s any of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business. You’re still my wife.” He stared into the distance as he said it. A splinter of sun pierced the dark clouds and bled across his unguarded expression.
Yearning.
Jo stood as if on ice, afraid to move lest she lose her balance.
He seemed to wake up, and after a deep breath, he surveyed the room. “The landlord is going to be looking for a new tenant. You should give him your name. It’s got to be better than living with your old man.”
Fissures formed beneath her and it took her two blinks before she recovered her footing.
“I need to get my camera. I’ll be right back.”
She left him at the door. The December chill wormed through her wool dress slacks as she trudged the half block to her car. She drew breath after breath of the searing chill deep into her lungs to replace the hurt, the anger, the self-recriminations that burned her. She sat in the passenger seat and picked up the radio mic. She wasn’t ready to face Cameron. Not yet.
To buy herself some time, she ran a local warrant check on Quinn. Something wasn’t quite right about the woman. A warrant might explain things.
Dispatch confirmed Quinn’s address, but had nothing to add.
Jo grabbed her camera bag and crime scene kit and schlepped back to the scene, prioritizing her actions as she went. She’d need to snag another detective. Interrupt a judge’s dinner to get a search warrant. Swab the victim’s hands for gunshot residue. Try to confirm his identification. Hopefully, the person in the front house would return soon so Jo could start collecting background on the deceased. Take overview photos of the exterior first. Inside there’d be lights. Then evidence. Identify it. Bag it. Book it.
She reached the door before she ticked through all the tasks. Cameron was circling the chair.
Jo stopped on the threshold, stunned.
“No wonder they didn’t promote you.” Cameron peered into the exposed cranium. “If you can’t tell this is a suicide, you got no business being a cop—let alone a detective.”
“Get out.”
“We’re not home, sweetie. You can’t order me out here.”
“Actually, I can. Detective, remember? This is my scene and you’re contaminating it.”
He laughed. “Sergeant outranks detective.”
“I think it’s already been established that you’re not sporting stripes.”
“Yet. Couple more days.”
Three. Three days until he started wearing the stripes that should have been hers. Three days until he outranked her. Three. Damn. Days. “And until then, Officer Finch.” With exaggerated care, she took out her notebook and started writing.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a note of the path you’ve taken. Try to retrace your steps. I’d hate to have to say how badly you mucked things up.” She paused for effect. “You getting promoted and all.”
“You’re such a bitch.”
“Is that how you talk to your wife?”
He picked up the overturned bottle on the TV tray. “Johnnie Walker Gold.” He sniffed the premium Scotch whisky. “And here I would have pegged him for a Jack fan, at best.” Cameron tipped the bottle back into place and retraced his steps.
The latex gloves did nothing to warm her fingers, and Jo shoved her hands in her pockets. Had he changed or had she? “When did you become such an ass?”
“When’d we get married?” He shouldered past her, swinging his keys around his finger. Outside, the streetlamps flickered to life. “I’ll leave you to it. Even you can see it’s a slam dunk.”
She didn’t want to agree with him. “It’s only a suicide when the coroner says so.”
“Oh, Jo-elle.”
There was that laugh again, and she hated herself for warming to him.
“You’ve got to learn to choose your battles.”
***
Excerpt from Shadow Ridge by M.E. Browning. Copyright 2020 by M.E. Browning. Reproduced with permission from M.E. Browning. All rights reserved.
***
Author Bio
M.E. BROWNING served twenty-two years in law enforcement and retired as a captain before turning to a life of crime fiction. Writing as Micki Browning, she penned the Agatha-nominated and award-winning Mer Cavallo mysteries, and her short stories and nonfiction have appeared in anthologies, mystery and diving magazines, and textbooks. As M.E. Browning, she recently began a new series of Jo Wyatt mysteries with Shadow Ridge (October 2020).
Micki is a member of Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, and Sisters in Crime—where she served as a former president of the Guppy Chapter. A professional divemaster, she resides in Florida with her partner in crime and a vast array of scuba equipment she uses for “research.”
Today I am sharing on the blog tour for an action-packed new technothriller in the Net Force series originally created and written by Tom Clancy and Steve Pierczenik and now being written by Jerome Preisler. This Feature Post and Book Review is for NET FORCE: ATTACK PROTOCOL by Jerome Preisler which is the third book he has written for the series.
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!
***
Author Q&A
1.Would you tell us more about the main characters from NET FORCE: ATTACK PROTOCOL?
Well, after introducing a rather large ensemble cast of characters in the first novel of the NET FORCE reboot, I focus on four or five in this book, including grey hat hacker Kali Alcazar and manhunter Mike Carmody in one major storyline, and John Howard and Julio Fernandez in a second. I also introduce two of my favorite characters ever, Mario and Laura, my two lovebirds. My bad guys are … mysterious. There’s a lot of character development, and Mario Perez and Laura Cruz, who came to me in a dream—complete with their introductory scene—add some light and humor to a sometimes dark, almost Gothic tale.
2. What should those new to the series know?
This isn’t their father’s NET FORCE. It propels the original concept of a cyber-security force into a modern, gritty new era full of slam-bang action. Think John Wick meets NET FORCE. I’m universe-building here and riding with my foot off the brake pedal. This is a COOL, contemporary series. Also, one of my strengths as a writer is characterization, and the characters on this series are among the best I’ve ever created. They are human and diverse and representative of the real world. I work hard to develop heroes that aren’t recycled stereotypes. The same is true for my villains.
3. What have been some challenges and some rewards from taking over a series originally created by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik?
The challenges and rewards are often one and the same. The original series was a perennial bestseller, so I know I have to deliver on a big way. I know I have to satisfy old fans and simultaneously bring in new ones. To elaborate on that … I’m deeply appreciative of having a built-in readership. As someone who has worked with Tom and the Clancy franchise for long stretches over two or three decades, I feel a great responsibility to them. But I also want to grow the franchise. I want to open it up to a whole new audience. It’s a tough job—but somebody’s gotta do it!
4. What part or aspect of this series do you love the most?
The concept and characters are so rich, I can tell virtually any kind of story I want.
5. What are three things you have on your writing desk?
My computer, a cup of coffee, and a cat.
6. What character in the book really spoke to you?
All of them!
7. What is your favorite type of character to write about?
I like writing about men and women who are complex and have in many instances overcome—or are in the process of overcoming—some tough situations in life. They’ve wrestled with or are wrestling with demons. My heroes and villains are real human beings to me. They’ve experienced certain things and made certain choices. Where those choices lead them fascinates and occasionally surprises me.
8. How did you get into writing?
I picked up a pen and started writing my first novel at age 10. By the time I was eleven, I was typing it all out. And I was doomed.
9. Who is your writing inspiration?
I have a whole lot. Tolkien, Hemingway, Edgar Allen Poe, Chandler, Ed McBain, Pete Hamill, Harper Lee, Robert E. Howard, Robert Heinlein (while we’re doing the “Roberts”) … the great thriller writer Charles Godey. Tom Clancy, of course! Barbara Tuchman, who made history readable. Stan Lee! Ian Fleming! Bob Dylan! Charles Bukowski! The list goes on and on. And on …
10. What theme or message do you hope readers will take away from your ex book?
There’s hope. With love and faith and courage, there is always hope.
11. What drew you into this particular genre?
I’ve written in almost every genre, maybe in part because I’ve enjoyed books in every genre. For me a story is a story. While I understand as a craftsman that every genre has its requirements, the main thing is that the writing has to be good.
12. If you could sit down with any character in your book, what would you ask them and why?
“Kali, may I have this dance?” ‘Nuff said! (Now I’m even SOUNDING like Stan Lee!)
13. What social media site has been the most helpful in developing your readership?
I think Goodreads is pretty good …
14. What advice would you give to aspiring or just starting authors out there?
You have to invest yourself. Write with commitment and discipline. Write hard. Don’t do it to get rich, because you probably won’t. Write to be good.
15. What does the future hold in store for you? Any new books/projects on the horizon?
My next Net Force novella, then my next NET FORCE novel, then the NET FORCE novella and novel after that… hopefully for a while to come. Also, GAME FACE, the autobiography I co-authored with Hall of Fame basketball great Bernard King was optioned for film a while back and just acquired an incredible producer … but I can’t say who that is till it’s officially announced. Finally my new historical nonfiction, CIVIL WAR COMMANDO: William Cushing and the Daring Raid to Sink the CSS Albemarle, was published in November and I’m hoping people will check it out. Oh—I want to sleep in. Someday. Just for a few hours.
***
Book Summary
The cutting-edge Net Force thriller series, created by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik and written by Jerome Preisler reveals the invisible battlefield where the war for global dominance is fought.
In the wake of stunning terrorist attacks around the world, Net Force jumps into action. The president’s new cybersecurity agency homes in on a dangerous figure operating in the shadows of the Carpathian mountains. And he’s ready to strike again, using the digital space to advance his destructive goals.
But before Net Force can get boots on the ground, the master hacker and his cadre mount a devastating high tech assault against the agency’s military threat-response unit. Has a Net Force insider turned traitor? The stakes are suddenly ratcheted higher when a global syndicate of black hat hackers and a newly belligerent Russia hatch an ambitious scheme to plunge the United States into a crippling war—one that will leave Moscow and its Dark Web allies supreme.
Their attack protocol: to seize control of the Internet, and open the door for a modern, nuclear Pearl Harbor…unless the men and women of Net Force can stop them
NET FORCE: ATTACK PROTOCOL by Jerome Preisler is the latest book in the continuation of the technothiller series created by Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik. The series is set in 2023 and follows Net Force, a government cybersecurity agency established to fight against on-line terrorism and for internet control. This book can be read as a fast-paced standalone thriller.
Net Force is established and attacked simultaneously in New York City as the President of the United States is announcing their creation. The agents are now on the hunt for a dangerous cybercriminal deep in the Carpathian mountains. As one team is chasing this shadowy figure, he has mounted a high-tech attack against the agency’s military threat response base.
Unless the men and women of Net Force can stop this syndicate of terrorists, they will seize control of the internet and open the door for a modern nuclear Pearl Harbor.
This thriller starts off at a fast-pace and never lets up. The plot twists and danger to the main characters kept me turning the pages. I love all the high-tech gadgets and even though this series is set in 2023, I believe much of the tech is probably used now and is not as futuristic as when the original series began. The author does a good job of balancing exposition and dialogue. Even though the overall plot arc and characters are continued from book one, Net Force: Dark Web, this book can still pull you in and you never feel lost.
I recommend this new technothriller and I am looking forward to more books in this series.
***
Excerpt
1
Satu Mare District, Romania
The first snowfall of the season was dusting the banks of the Somes River when a catastrophic failure struck the power grid, plunging the western third of the country into darkness.
Nicu Borgos was just an hour into his midnight shift when things went wrong. An operator for Satu Mare District’s Electrica Power Distribution Center, he was tired from caring for his daughter, who was seven and sick with the flu. His wife, Balia, a sales clerk at a clothing store, was also miserably under the weather, and he had been doing his best to help her as well. But money was tight and, like him, Balia needed to work and bring in a paycheck.
The night before, she had come home from the shop, put chest rub on Angela, tucked her in, showered, and climbed into bed with her dinner untouched. Nicu normally slept until 9:00 p.m. or even a little later, but the sounds Angela was making in her room concerned him. He had lost his dear mother to the pandemic three years ago, and the outbreaks still could be vicious.
Taking no chances, he’d resolved to stay up to check on the child, poking his head through the doorway every fifteen or twenty minutes. It was a while before she settled in.
So Nicu was worn out and bleary, which might have been why he doubted his eyes when he saw the cursor suddenly drifting across his screen. The computer was networked into the energy grid, and the numbered blue buttons on its display controlled the circuit breakers for ten substations throughout the county—an area of almost seventeen hundred square miles, with some three hundred thousand residents.
The cursor landed on the switch for Substation One. Clicked. A dialogue window opened below the button:
Warning: Opening the breaker will result in
complete shutdown. Do you wish to proceed?
YES NO
Reaching for his mouse, Nicu tried to drag the cursor out of the window, thinking its driver might have developed a minor glitch. But it remained there…and slid to Yes.
He quickly swiped the mouse across its pad, wanting to move the cursor to No.
It stayed on Yes. Clicked. The dialogue box vanished, and the button for Substation One changed from blue to red.
Nicu inhaled. He had been an operator at the distribution center for half a decade and did not need to bring up a map to see the region each substation covered. The map was already in his head.
Substation One was Lazuli, a rural commune of six villages to the extreme north, near the Ukrainian and Hungarian borders. Its six thousand residents had now gone off-line. Even as Nicu registered this, the on-screen cursor jumped to the Substation Two button.
He snatched up the mouse in desperation, lifting it above the pad. It made no difference. The cursor clicked. Opened another dialogue window requesting confirmation. Went to Yes again.
Click.
Blue turned to red, and Nicu Borgos watched Substation Two go down in an instant.
“Draga meu Domnezeu,” he rasped. “My dear God.”
Substation Two was the city of Satu Mare itself. With a population of one hundred thousand—a full third of the county’s inhabitants—it was now completely dark.
Nicu tried to think clearly. During the day, the operating station would have two people on shift. There was a second computer to his left, with a separate monitor. Possibly the problem was only with his machine. If he could log in to the system using the other computer, he might prevent more breakers from tripping open.
He rolled his chair in front of it, tapped the keyboard. The computer came out of idle showing the operator log-in screen. He entered his username and password.
A Wrong Password notification flashed on-screen.
He slowly retyped the password, thinking he might have entered a wrong character in his haste.
The notification appeared again. He was locked out of the system.
Nicu sat up straight, his spine a stiff rod of tension. His original machine showed that Substation Three, which provided power to Negresti Oas’s twelve thousand citizens, was down. He glanced at its screen just in time to see the cursor move to Substation Four…the distribution station for the commune Mediesu Aurit’s seven villages. The two stations combined served more than twenty thousand customers.
He remembered that tonight’s temperature was forecast to drop below freezing in the mountain areas, and felt suddenly helpless. Whatever was causing the shutdowns, he could not deal with the growing emergency himself.
His heart pounding, he reached for the hotline to call his supervisor.
The black BearCat G3 bore north on the unmarked strip of macadam that linked Satu Mare City to the tiny farming village of Rosalvea in the Carpathian foothills. Its windshield wipers beating off fat, wet flutters of snow, the vehicle moved smoothly and quietly for a big four-tonner armored with hardened ballistic steel panels.
At the wheel was Scott Dixon of the CIA’s elite manhunting Fox Team, recently placed under operational detachment to Net Force. Kali Alcazar sat beside him. In her late twenties, she had short silver-white hair and wore a black stealthsuit and lightweight plate vest. They were standard organizational issue. A Victorian English adventurer’s belt and a vintage film-canister pendant hanging from her neck were personal additions.
“How we doing timewise?” Dixon asked.
Kali looked at her dash screen. On it was the same controller’s interface Nicu Borgos was struggling with at the power distribution center. A moment ago she had seen the circuits trip in rapid succession.
“Pickles,” she said. Using the unfortunate name given to the vehicle’s AI by its architect, Sergeant Julio Fernandez.
“Yes, K?”
“Outlier,” she corrected. Using the dark web handle she had long ago created for herself.
“Yes, K.”
“Bring up the Satu Mare power grid.”
“Yes, K.”
She clicked her tongue. Fernandez had infused the AI with one too many of his stubbornly aggravating personality traits. But the upside was that, like Julio, it was also smart, nuanced, and intuitive. She could live with it.
In front of her now, the panel on-screen was replaced by a sector-by-sector map of the region, its cities and towns numbered according to the substations that supplied their electricity. The five already off-line were black, the rest red.
She watched as a sixth went dark.
“Over half the stations are down,” she said. “Total blackout in about five minutes.”
“Bitter cold out, a quarter million people without light or heat,” Dixon said. “Women, children, seniors. All for the sake of bagging one guy.”
She glanced over at him. “The hackers—the technologie vampiri—are the local economy. The government protects them. The polizei, the citizens, everyone.”
He shrugged with his hands on the wheel. She was right. Suspicions definitely would have been raised at the syndicate’s current headquarters— the Wolf’s Lair—if they only cut power to its surrounding village.
“I get it,” he said. “Still tough.”
“Tougher than it was on New York?”
Dixon didn’t answer. Four months ago the vampiri had launched a cyberattack that left the East Coast a shambles, killed hundreds, and almost took out the President. Now his team’s pursuit of the Wolf had led them out here to the Romanian boonies, making them key players in the first fully integrated operation conducted by the various elements of America’s new Department of Internet Security and Law Enforcement. Net Force, in bureaucratic government shorthand.
He really did get it.
The BearCat rolled between the gigantic evergreens standing sentinel on either side of the road. In the rear compartment, Gregg Long, Fox Team, sat with a small detachment on loan from Task Force Quickdraw—six men in tactical gear with Mark 18 CQBR carbines strapped over their shoulders and short-barreled Mossberg 590 combat shotguns racked to the sides of the passenger compartment.
“Distance to the target?” Dixon asked after a few minutes.
This time Kali skipped the AI, tapping her computer keyboard for the GPS sat map. “Thirty-two miles.”
Dixon nodded and checked the speedometer. He was doing about fifty. So a little over half an hour.
Taking his hand off the wheel, he adjusted his earpiece and hailed Carmody on the ground-to-air.
Jerome Preisler is the prolific author of almost forty books of fiction and narrative nonfiction, including all eight novels in the New York Times bestselling TOM CLANCY’S POWER PLAYS series. His latest book is DARK WEB, the first novel in a relaunch of the New York Times bestselling NET FORCE series co-created Tom Clancy and Steve Pieczenik. Forthcoming in November 2020 is his next NET FORCE novel, ATTACK PROTOCOL. Jerome lives in New York City and coastal Maine.
Today is my turn on the Harlequin Series December 2020 Blog Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for A SOLDIER UNDER HER TREE (Sweet Briar Sweethearts Book #8) by Kathy Douglass.
Below you will find a book description, my book review an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio. Enjoy!
***
Book Description:
Tis the season…for a second shot at love. Could a fake boyfriend be her real hero this Christmas?
When her ex-fiancé shows up at her shop—engaged to her sister!—dress designer Hannah Carpenter doesn’t know what to do. Especially when her former fling Russell Danielson sees her plight and rides to the rescue, offering a fake relationship to foil her rude relations. The thing is, there’s nothing fake about his kiss… But when things get real, will the sexy soldier once again stop short of commitment?
From Harlequin Special Edition: Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.
A SOLDIER UNDER HER TREE (Sweet Briar Sweethearts Book #8)
ISBN: 9781335894991
Price: $5.99
On Sale Date: December 1, 2020
***
My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
A SOLDIER UNDER HER TREE (Sweet Briar Sweethearts Book #8) by Tracy Douglass is a cozy, second-chance, contemporary holiday romance. (I label all romances that do not have sex scenes as cozy romances.) This book is a part of the Sweet Briar Sweethearts series, but it can be easily read and enjoyed as a standalone story.
Hannah Carpenter has made Sweet Briar, North Carolina her home after catching her ex-fiance and sister in bed together just three days before what was to be her Christmas wedding day. While she has made of success of her personal design clothing boutique and has great new friends, she only participates in the holiday for show around her friends and customers. She refuses to celebrate in private and avoids anything Christmas as much as possible.
Russel Danielson is on leave in Sweet Briar for the holiday to see his family and try to decide what he is going to do for the rest of his life after having to take a medical discharge from the military after 20 years of service. He is also looking forward to once again seeing Hannah, who he met one day before returning to duty over the summer.
Russ walks into Hannah’s boutique and into a situation between Hannah, her mother, sister and ex-fiance. He pretends to be her boyfriend. When they leave, Russel and Hannah decide that being a fake couple over the Christmas holiday will solve both of their problems.
Can a fake couple help each other and become the real thing?
This is a fast and easy read with a lot of heart. Russel and Hannah both have personal obstacles to overcome and the author does a good job of emotionally moving them along to the HEA. This is a cozy romance, which is the term I use for a romance with no sex scenes. All of Hannah’s friends and Russel’s family are realistically portrayed and interesting secondary characters that make me want to go back and read about their stories in other books in the Sweet Briar series.
Entertaining, heartfelt and fun holiday contemporary romance read.
***
Excerpt
“Why do you have to be like that? I tried to resist. We both did, for your sake. That’s why we didn’t get married right away. We were considering your feelings. But Gerald and I are in love and want to be together.”
Hannah managed not to throw up the yogurt she’d grabbed for breakfast. Respect for her feelings wasn’t the reason Dinah and Gerald hadn’t gotten married three years ago. They hadn’t tied the knot because Dinah hadn’t been divorced yet. Her ex-husband hadn’t been in the mood to give her half of what he’d earned, so the proceedings had dragged on and on. Of course, had Dinah been as much in love with Gerald as she’d claimed, she would have just walked away from her then eight-month marriage and a huge settlement. But Dinah had absorbed their mother’s teaching quite well. Never leave a dollar behind.
“I’m not stopping you. Get married. Have the biggest wedding the state of Virginia has seen. Heck, all of America has seen. But leave me out of it.”
Gerald stepped forward then. Hannah had hoped to never see the weasel ever again. Yet here he was, standing right in front of her. He was average height with hair that was beginning to thin and cold, calculating eyes. Hannah wondered what she’d ever seen in him. When they’d worked together at his father’s architectural firm, she’d been impressed by what she’d interpreted as his drive and desire to make a name for himself. Now she realized that had just been a mirage.
“Hannah, we weren’t right for each other.” Was he trying to sound sympathetic? If so, he was failing miserably. But then, true feelings weren’t included in his limited repertoire. “I know you feel the same way.”
“You got that right.”
“I know you’re hurt and disappointed,” he said as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Apparently he’d prepared this speech and intended to recite every word of it. “But don’t hold it against Dinah.”
“You’re unbelievable. Please, all of you, just leave.”
“Not until you agree to make my dress,” Dinah said. Clearly trying to make nice was putting a strain on her and she was reverting to type.
Hannah had a business to run. A customer could come in at any moment. She needed to put an end to this now.
“You know, I can always call the chief of police. He’s a friend, too.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Eleanor said indignantly, pressing a manicured hand against her chest.
“Actually I would,” Hannah said, hoping her mother wouldn’t call her bluff. Hannah didn’t want anyone in town, especially her friends, to know about her messed up family. She’d never told a soul about them or how Gerald had betrayed her. And she never would. But Eleanor didn’t know that.
“There’s no need for that,” Eleanor said hastily, trying to get back on script. “Hannah, just consider what’s best for the family. And for you.”
“How would it look if you, a successful dress designer to the stars, refuse to design a wedding dress for your only sister? It could harm your reputation if anyone ever found out how petty you’re being,” Dinah added.
“Was that a threat? That’s an interesting strategy for someone asking a favor.”
“I’m just pointing out the obvious. You like to pretend that you’re the victim. Poor betrayed Hannah. The truth is Gerald dumped you because he didn’t want you. He wanted me.” Dinah preened as if she were some sort of prize. “You’ve always been jealous of my beauty. I would have thought you’d gotten over it by now. Maybe if you could find a man, you wouldn’t be so bitter. But then, maybe you haven’t met anyone desperate enough.”
Hannah gasped. That was low even for Dinah.
The sound of a throat being loudly cleared filled the uneasy silence. Hannah closed her eyes.
Just what she’d hoped to avoid—a witness to her family’s dysfunction and her personal humiliation.
She opened her eyes and turned to face her customer.
Russell Danielson. Her good friend’s brother. She’d met Russell this past summer when he’d been in Sweet Briar visiting his siblings and their families. They’d hit it off and spent a glorious evening together. He’d promised to contact her when he got back to his duty station. He hadn’t.
She’d been hurt when he’d ghosted her—disappointed even—but not surprised. She was still down on men. Besides, though they’d had a couple of good conversations, those talks hadn’t involved anything truly personal. Still, she’d thought they’d connected. Clearly she’d been wrong.
Russell looked around the room, taking in the scene, and then smiled. Did he find the way she was standing against the wall while they circled her like sharks amusing? “Sorry I’m late.”
“Uh.” Late for what? Until he’d stepped into her store, she hadn’t known he was in town.
He crossed the room, not stopping until he was standing an inch in front on her. Instinctively she inhaled and got a whiff of his delectable scent. He was wearing a woodsy cologne, which when mingled with his natural scent made her weak in the knees. Before she could utter a word, he put his arms around her waist and pulled her into a kiss.
His lips were warm, and the pressure was perfect. He lingered for a few seconds before pulling away. Though he’d ended the kiss, he kept his arm firmly around her waist, which was good since her knees had turned to Jell-O.
***
Author Bio
Kathy Douglass came by her love of reading naturally – both of her parents were readers. She would finish one book and pick up another. Then she attended law school and traded romances for legal opinions.
After the birth of her two children, her love of reading turned into a love of writing. Kathy now spends her days writing the small town contemporary novels she enjoys reading. Kathy loves to hear from her readers and can be found on Facebook.
Today is my turn on the Harlequin Series November 2020 Blog Tour. I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for A SHERIFF’S STAR (Home to Oak Hollow Book #1) by Makenna Lee.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
***
Book Description:
It was only supposed to be a temporary home… He interrupts her plans…
When police chief Anson Curry returns a lost little girl to her frantic mother, his only goal is to ease the single mom’s anxiety. But it doesn’t take long for Tess Harper’s amazing child to have Anson wrapped around her little finger—and for Tess to have him thinking about a possible relationship. As for Tess, she’s tempted—even though she had planned to be in Oak Hollow, Texas, only temporarily. But after losing her father and brother in the line of duty, Tess thinks Anson’s job poses too much of a risk to her heart. And Anson has no plans to get involved with someone who’s planning on leaving.
From Harlequin Special Edition: Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.
A SHERIFF’S STAR (Home to Oak Hollow Book #1) by Makenna Lee is the start of a new Harlequin Special Edition series contemporary romance set in the Texas Hill Country.
Single mother Tess Harper has arrived in Oak Hollow with her four-year-old daughter, Hannah to work a temporary job setting up exhibits for the new Historical Society. While shopping, before checking out their temporary rental home, Hannah walks away. Tess is frantic until a handsome lawman brings Hannah back to her mother.
Chief of Police Anson Curry is enchanted with the little girl he finds who calls him “Sheriff”. He is also interested in Tess, but she no pushover. Anson has had his heart broken in the past and is not sure about Tess. While Tess has been a single mother on her own even before the birth of her daughter and is not interested in a relationship. Anson is not willing to give up though and is willing to work to get Tess to give them a chance.
Tess has experienced several losses and is worried Anson’s job is too dangerous, but Anson wants to prove to Tess that he has no plans to leave her and Hannah.
I loved this single mother romance and the determination of Anson to make Tess understand that she had so many people who wanted to help her if she would just let them in, including him. Being a single mother myself, I know how difficult it can be and how protective I was of my child, so with Hannah having special needs with her Down syndrome and being rejected by her birth father and his family, I feel that Tess’s fight against letting anyone into their lives was very realistic. Hannah’s love and innocence will steal your heart and Nan, Anson’s grandmother, adds to the healing that occurs in all their lives.
I can recommend this heartfelt small-town romance and I am looking forward to the future stories in this series as well.
***
Excerpt
Where’s my baby?
Tess Harper’s rib cage rattled with the abrupt drumming of her heart. “Hannah Lynn! Where are you? Answer Momma!”
This can’t be happening! I only glanced away for a second.
Blood pounded in her head with such force her vision wavered, and a hot, prickly knot wedged in her throat. She grabbed a rack of clothes, knocked items to the floor and forced herself to focus. No one had been standing near them to snatch her little girl. Her precocious child must’ve slipped into one of the stuffed, round racks to play her favorite game of hide-and-seek.
Please, please let her be okay. “Hannah Lynn, answer me!”
A store employee stood nearby folding T-shirts, unaffected by Tess’s cries.
“My daughter is missing! Can you make an announcement?”
“What does she look like?” asked the blank-faced teen.
“She’s four, blonde, has Down syndrome.”
“Over here, ma’am,” a deep, male voice called from across the women’s department. “I think I have who you’re looking for.”
Tess spun to see her daughter in the arms of a tall police officer. She ran, dodging obstacles and other shoppers, and pulled Hannah into her arms. The slight weight of her child was an immediate relief. She cradled her head of silky curls and kissed her smooth, broad forehead. “Don’t you ever run off like that again. You scared the life out of me.”
Hannah’s bottom lip poked out and she placed both hands on her mother’s cheeks. “I sorry, Momma.”
The waning adrenaline rush left her trembling and dizzy. A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and she stiffened. “I’m fine.”
“Let’s find a place to sit.”
Allowing a strange man to touch her wasn’t typical behavior, but he was a police officer like her father had been, and at the moment, she welcomed the support. “I could sit for a minute.”
He guided them to a bench near the dressing room and sat beside them. “Can I get you anything? Water?”
Tess shook her head, too intent on hugging her squirming daughter and savoring her baby shampoo scent. “I can’t believe I let this happen. I only turned my head, and when I looked back, she was gone. What if…” Her throat tightened and burned with repressed tears, cutting off her words. Terrible scenarios scrolled through her mind, each one more horrifying than the next.
“Play hide-see, Momma.”
“Sweet girl, you have to promise to tell me before we start playing hide-and-seek.”
“Something like this happens to every parent at some point,” said the officer. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
She cut him a hard look, ready to argue that her slipup was completely unacceptable. “Are you a parent?”
His jaw tightened and twitched. “No.”
“Then you don’t know what this feels like.” Tess didn’t miss the spark of sorrow in the man’s blue eyes. His expression almost matched the strained one that often stared back from her reflection. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, though. Where did you find my daughter?”
“She found me. I was looking through the ladies’ robes when a little hand reached out and tugged on my pant leg.”
“Ladies’ robes?” She bit her lip. It was none of her business what he shopped for.
Color bloomed high on his cheekbones. “For my grandmother.”
Hannah wiggled off her mother’s lap and onto the bench between them. “Sheriff safe?” Her blue-green eyes cut back and forth between them.
“Yes, baby.” Tess glanced at his badge that read Chief of Police. “She thinks you’re a sheriff like one of her favorite cartoon characters.”
He smiled at Hannah, showing dimples almost hidden beneath a short-cropped, blond beard. “You sure are a smart little girl. How old are you?”
“I four.” Hannah climbed onto her knees and traced around the border of his badge. “Circle.” Her tiny finger poked through each of the holes surrounding the center star. “Sheriff star.”
“It means I’ve promised to protect and keep you safe.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small plastic star and pinned it onto Hannah’s pink shirt. “You can be my honorary officer.”
Her daughter—normally shy around men—flung her arms around his neck. “Tank you.”
Tess once again caught a quick flash of distress before he schooled his features and returned the hug. Watching her child interact with a “father figure” set off a familiar swell of sadness that rolled in like a tidal wave. Hannah’s father didn’t want to be part of their lives, but he was the one missing out on the unconditional love of a precious child.
His loss. Idiot, selfish bastard.
She shook off the dark thoughts and took a good look at the man wearing a tan cowboy hat. His movie-star-worthy face topped powerful shoulders and a chest that filled his uniform shirt almost to the point of bursting buttons.
What’s the matter with me? How can I notice a man’s appearance at a time like this?
Eyes squeezed closed, she turned her head to hide her emotions from a man who was way too attractive, and no doubt knew it. He probably had women fawning all over him. She did not need another man who’d play with her heart like a chew toy. Especially one with a dangerous job.
I can, and will, raise my child on my own.
Oak Hollow, Texas, might be a small town, but she made up her mind to keep as much distance as possible between her and this tempting officer. It wouldn’t be that hard. They’d only be here a couple of months before moving on to Houston to prepare for Hannah’s heart surgery.
Hannah plopped onto her bottom, little legs swinging as she admired her prize.
“Thank you for your help. I need to find our shopping cart and get groceries. I’m moving into our new place today and I don’t want to be late meeting the landlord.”
He cocked his head and studied her with a set of stormy blue eyes. “Is your new place by any chance the Craftsman bungalow on Eighteenth Street?”
Hair lifted on the back of her neck. “How’d you know?”
He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tess Harper. I’m your landlord, Anson Curry.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
***
Author Bio
Makenna Lee is an award-winning romance author living in the Texas Hill Country with her real-life hero and their two children. Her oldest son has Down syndrome and taught her to appreciate the little things, and he inspired one of her novels. As a child, she played in the woods, looked for fairies under toadstools, and daydreamed. Her writing journey began when she mentioned all her story ideas, and her husband asked why she wasn’t writing them down. The next day she bought a laptop, started her first book, and knew she’d found her passion. Now, Makenna is often drinking coffee while writing, reading, or plotting a new story. Her wish is to write books that touch your heart, making you feel, think, and dream. She enjoys renaissance festivals, nature photography, studying herbal medicine, and usually listens to Celtic music while writing. She writes for Harlequin and Entangled Publishing and believes everyone deserves a happy ending.
