Today I am excited to be sharing on the Social Butterfly PR Blog Tour. My Feature Post and Book Review is for the latest book in the Hot Cakes series – SEMI-SWEET ON YOU (Hot Cakes Book #4) by Erin Nicholas. This is one of my favorite contemporary romance series with great characters, sweet and yummy baked goods and plenty of fun!
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
A semi-sweet second-chance rom com!
She broke his heart ten years ago.
Now he’s back — and her new boss.
And she might still be semi in love with him.
But that’s no problem, right? They can keep it professional.
Until her grandmother gets involved.
She’s thrilled to think that Whitney and Cam are still in love. And invites him to move in with her…and Whitney.
Of course, Whitney can handle that too. Yeah, everything is fine. Just fine.
Until Cam makes it clear that he’s all in.
Having him back is very sweet, but can she really have it all? Or will it all crumble around her?
SEMI-SWEET ON YOU (Hot Cakes Book #4) by Erin Nicholas is the latest contemporary romance in the Hot Cakes series. I have been anxiously waiting for Whitney and Cam’s second chance love story and it did not disappoint. Laughter, fun, family, friendship, love, smokin’ hot attraction and yummy baked goods are all used to solve even the toughest problems.
For three generations the feud between the Lancaster and McCaffery families has carried on in the small town of Appleby, but like Romeo and Juliet, Cam and Whitney fell in love in high school and hid it from their families. When it came time for Cam McCaffery to go to away for college, he wanted to stay and marry Whitney, but she knew he had so much more to accomplish, so she broke up with him and sent him on his way.
Now Cam and his best friends are back and have purchased Hot Cakes, the largest employer in town from the Lancaster family to save the town. Cam is now Whitney’s boss, but he realizes that Whitney is not the same girl he left behind.
Whitney has never had the chance to prove herself in her family’s company. Her father and brothers did not believe she had a place in decision making. Now with the new ownership she is determined to prove her worth and become a partner, but she is also dealing with her grandmother, Didi’s Alzheimer’s. Cam slides right into Whitney and Didi’s life with the promise that he will help and support Whitney as a friend only.
Cam is trying to be a friend to Whitney, but even Whitney is not sure this can work because every time they are together the sexual attraction is hot enough to burn anything Cam has baking in the oven.
PERFECT! Cam and Whitney are a great H/h couple. The sexual attraction is smokin’ hot between these two, but Ms. Nicholas has written a romance that shows them with feelings and emotions that have changed according to their new circumstances in life and are more mature than when they were together ten years ago. This relationship is everything I was hoping for and more.
The secondary characters all play a very important role in this story, also. The friendship of all the guys of Fluke, Inc. and that includes the talented Piper, too make this series very entertaining. In this book we get to get to know Didi, Whitney’s grandmother and her side of the feud story even as her mental cognition declines. (Have some tissues ready for these parts of the story.) Whitney’s emotional reactions and emotions for her grandmother I feel were realistically written and handled.
This book is the fourth book in the series, but it can be easily read as a standalone. I believe that after reading this book you will go back and read all the previous stories.
I highly recommend this second chance contemporary romance!
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Excerpt
He leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips when he said, “Let me kiss you.”
Oh damn. She wanted that. She wanted it so much. She was weak.
“I—” she started.
“The tea is getting cold!” Didi bellowed from the kitchen.
Whitney and Cam stilled. Then she felt him sigh. But he didn’t pull back. “You going to let me do this or not?”
He was already practically kissing her. When his lips moved as he spoke, they brushed hers ever so lightly. His body heat surrounded her. She swore she could feel his heartbeat pounding. Or maybe that was hers.
They both clearly wanted this. She certainly wasn’t pushing him away or stepping back. But the only actual connection was his hand on her face. And their mingling breaths.
Clearly he was going to insist that she make this decision. He wasn’t going to just sweep her up and kiss the hell out of her before she could protest and then let the chemistry take over.
“Whit,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Push me back or pull me closer.”
She slid her hands up to his chest, not sure until the last moment if she was going to fist his shirt and pull him in or push him away.
Cam, however, didn’t look surprised when she pushed.
He let go and stepped back though. He didn’t seem angry or even frustrated. It seemed that he’d been expecting her reaction actually.
“Okay,” he finally said.
She wet her lips. “Thanks,” she said, hoarsely. And she meant it. She appreciated that he was giving her these choices. Kind of.
It would be a lot easier to just climb him like a tree and give in to everything zipping between them if he’d just back her up against the wall, seal his mouth over hers, and start running his big hands over her body. Then she could pretend she was just caught up in the moment and enjoy the hell out of it without actually admitting she wanted any of that.
Which he knew.
She could see it.
He knew that she wanted him, but that she didn’t want to admit it.
So, of course, he was going to make her confess before he did anything more.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m very stubborn,” he said.
Whitney gave him a nod. “I remember.”
“And something you should know about me and the past ten years,” he said, holding her gaze steadily, “I’ve also gotten very used to winning. “
That actually made her heart trip and her inner muscles clench.
See, she should really feel trepidation at that implied promise from him. But she didn’t.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, trying desperately not to act excited about the idea of him trying again and again to get close to her.
He looked at her for a long moment and a thought flickered through her mind—he knows.
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About Erin Nicholas
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Erin Nicholas has been writing romances almost as long as she’s been reading them. To date, she’s written over thirty sexy, contemporary novels that have been described as “toe-curling,” “enchanting,” “steamy,” and “fun.” She adores reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines, and happily ever afters.
Erin lives in the Midwest, where she enjoys spending time with her husband (who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books), her kids (who will never read the sex scenes in her books), and her family and friends (who claim to be “shocked” by the sex scenes in her books).
Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour. I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for TORTURED WITH LOVE: The True Crime Romance of the Lonely Hearts Killers by J.T. Hunter.
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
What is the price of passion? What is the power of love?
Meet Martha Beck, a young nurse dedicated to healing others, until her own hurting heart lured her down a darker path. Loneliness led her to Raymond Fernandez, but love led her all the way to the electric chair.
This is the tragic story of the Lonely Heart Killers.
Genre: True Crime Published by: JT Hunter Publication Date: May 15th 2020 Number of Pages: 210 ISBN: 9798646112720 Purchase Links:Amazon | Goodreads
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
TORTURED WITH LOVE: The True Crime Romance of the Lonely Hearst Killers by J.T. Hunter is a true crime story of a couple who ranked fourth on Time magazine’s list of Top 10 Crime Duos in U.S. history. Their crime spree occurred in the 1940’s and while it may seem somewhat tame compared to some of our current atrocities, it was the sensation of its time.
Martha Beck was a young nurse and mother in Pensacola, Florida. Divorced and lonely, her best friend encourages her to sign up with a lonely hearts correspondence club which was popular in the 1940’s and 50’s. Her letter is answered by a suave suitor named Ray from New York City.
Raymond “Ray” Fernandez came to America from Spain leaving his wife and four children behind. Having trouble keeping a job, he begins to scam wealthy women he corresponds with through the lonely hearts correspondence clubs. He meets Martha and while he walks away, Martha cannot let him go and will go to any lengths to keep his love.
Ray and Martha set out scamming and then ultimately moving on to murdering the women Ray makes fall in love with him to acquire all their assets. Dubbed by the press as the “Lonely Heart Killers” they are captured and continue to declare their love for each other all the way to the electric chair.
I had never heard of this couple in my true crime reading and was very interested in learning more. I am especially interested in these stories that have a couple committing murders to learn about the psychology of the couple. There are so many variables and I always wonder if they never met, if there would have been no crimes. The period of the 1940’s is brought to life and I found the author did a great job of displaying the differences in our mores and moral judgements then and now. This is the second book I have read by this author and I enjoy his clean and uncluttered style of writing while still providing a story that keeps you turning the pages.
I can highly recommend this true crime book and author!
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Excerpt
ONE
On an otherwise mundane March day, a peculiar piece of paper arrived in Martha Beck’s office mailbox. It came with the usual medical correspondence and junk mail, giving no indication of its importance. Yet, this one particular envelope would change Martha’s life forever.
The envelope arrived on a cool afternoon, the temperature hovering just below 60, the highest it had climbed all day in the Pensacola area of the Florida Panhandle. But Martha was not in the mood to enjoy the weather. She was still down in the dumps about her recently finalized divorce from Alfred Beck, a Pensacola bus driver who had married her when she was six months pregnant with another man’s child. Although she had been separated from Alfred since May 1945, nearly two years earlier, the formal entry of their divorce had the nearly 27-year-old Martha feeling like an old maid doomed to live out the rest of her life alone.
Martha was not unique in that respect in post-World War II America. With well over a million more women than men, the United States population of the mid and late 1940’s left many lonely women in its wake.
A visit from Elizabeth Swanson, one of the nurses she supervised at the Crippled Children’s Home, temporarily distracted Martha from feeling sorry for herself. She considered Elizabeth her closest friend. When Elizabeth knocked on her office door, Martha had just started going through the mail. As the two engaged in the latest gossip and friendly chit-chat, Martha resumed sorting through the assortment of envelopes. The first was an advertisement from a Jacksonville company selling medical equipment. She quickly flipped past it as well as a few other pieces of junk mail until a mysterious envelope caught her eye. It was made of thin, pale-brown paper with the name, Mrs. Martha Jule Beck, typed prominently on the front.
“What’s this?” she asked, the question directed more to herself than her friend.
“What is what?” Elizabeth replied, sipping from a mug of coffee.
“This . . . this odd envelope,” Martha said, holding it up to show her.
“Beat’s me,” Elizabeth remarked coyly. “I wonder who sent you that.”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Martha remarked, her curiosity now piqued. She turned the envelope over to inspect it further, and seeing nothing hinting at its contents, opened it to find a thin, paper pamphlet inside. It was a promotional mailing and application for the Standard Correspondence Club, one of many “lonely hearts clubs” operating across the country. The return address gave Standard’s location as Grave Lake, Illinois.
LONELY?, the pamphlet asked in large, bold letters, Let us help you findthat certain someone. Join old reliable Club, 50 years of dependable, confidentialservice. Correspondents most everywhere seeking congenial mates, provenresults. Interesting photos, descriptions FREE. There were several pictures of women spaced throughout the page, each next to a testimonial about a happy marriage brought about by contacts made through the club.
“Now why on earth would they send this to me?” Martha wondered aloud, taking a little offense that such a “lovelorn club” would be contacting her.
Elizabeth’s coyness now morphed into a broad grin that spread across her face.
“Now why on earth would they send this to me?” Martha wondered aloud, “I have a confession to make,” Elizabeth said as she started giggling. “I wrote the club and asked them to send you information and an application.”
Martha studied her friend’s face, deciding whether she was serious.
“Whatever for?” she asked in a tone matching the astonishment in her eyes.
Still giggling, Elizabeth moved to a chair closer to Martha and sat down beside her.
“I originally did it as a joke,” she explained, “but the more I thought about it, the more I decided that you should give it a try. Three of my daughters are writing to me that they have met men through this correspondence club, and this is the very same club that I met my husband through thirty years ago. And after all, what do you have to lose?”
Martha rolled her eyes.
“I may be a little lonely,” she acknowledged, “but I’m not THAT desperate.”
She glared with some annoyance at Elizabeth. “I swear, sometimes I really wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Martha tossed the pamphlet onto a pile of papers stacked on the side of her desk and made no more mention of it for the rest of their time together. But the seeds of intrigue had already been planted in her mind.
Later, after Elizabeth had left, Martha retrieved the discarded pamphlet and read it more closely. Part of the pamphlet contained a form asking her to fill out information about herself and write a letter detailing what kind of men she would like to meet. Sitting down at her desk, she carefully completed the form and took her time crafting the letter, being sure to mention how people often commented that she was witty, vivacious, and oozed personality. She also emphasized that she was a trained nurse with her own pleasant apartment. When she was satisfied with what she had written, Martha carefully folded the papers, enclosed $5.00 for the required membership fee, and licked the envelope to seal it. That evening, she dropped it in a mailbox on her way home from work.
*****
Years later, when asked whether she had experienced any misgivings about joining a lonely hearts club, Martha candidly replied, “Yes, as soon as I’d put the letter in the mailbox, I began thinking I’d made a mistake.”
Questioned about what kind of man she hoped to meet through the club, Martha took a little more time before answering.
“Well, I don’t know,” she confessed. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it much.
But I sure didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone like Ray.”
***Excerpt from Tortured With Love by J.T. Hunter. Copyright 2020 by J.T. Hunter. Reproduced with permission from J.T. Hunter. All rights reserved.
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Author Bio
JT Hunter is a true crime writer with over fifteen years of experience as a lawyer, including criminal law and appeals. He also has significant training in criminal investigation techniques. He enjoys being a college professor teaching fiction and nonfiction to his creative writing students.
Today I am excited to share My Feature Post and Book Review on the Blog Tour for THE WRECKAGE OF US by Brittainy Cherry.
Below you will find an interview with the author, a book summary, 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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Interview with the Author
The Wreckage of Us takes place in the inauspicious town of Eres, Nebraska. Not exactly a place where happily-ever-afters are made. What made you choose this setting?
I wanted to tell a story about a small town that was overlooked by the world as a whole. Most people would overlook a town like Eres, Nebraska, but there are still people who are living, who are loving, and who are struggling in these small towns. I wanted to show their stories, and how even though the rest of the world may not see them, that they still matter. They deserve their happily ever afters just as much as the rest of the world.
Hazel, your heroine, is newly eighteen when her criminal step-father throws her out of the house. She literally has nothing when the story begins—not even her mother’s support. What choices does Hazel make? Do you agree with them?
Hazel chooses to find a job in order to help her mother from a distance. I think she acts on impulse, not exactly thinking things through. She doesn’t get the opportunity to think far into the future, she only has right in that moment. Second by second. I do agree with her choices in a way, since she isn’t harming anyone with these choices. She is just doing her best to make it to the next day.
Forget about healing, Hazel is in survival mode. What keeps her going?
Her twisted love and care for her mother is keeping her going—along with her unborn sister. She knew what it was like to grow up in her household, and she wouldn’t want her little sister to go through those same kind of struggles. So, that pushes Hazel to keep moving forward and fighting for her family.
Your hero is a very interesting mix of both the town’s “golden boy” as well as the town’s “bad boy”. Ian is…complicated. How did you get to know him? How does Hazel get to know him?
I believe Hazel and I both got to know Ian the same way—piece by piece. He has a wall of protection up from the world due to the trauma he experienced as a child. Being abandoned by his parents really did a number on Ian’s trust. Yet, the beautiful thing about Ian is when he loves, he loves fully. He does everything he can to make sure those he loves are taken care of. Once his pieces are discovered, he makes a beautiful complete puzzle.
Music is Ian’s whole life. He sees it as his escape, a way out of the stifling Eres, Nebraska. However, he struggles with his emotions and allowing himself to really feel the music he is making. What needs to change for him?
He needs to tap into his darkest struggles. He has to go to the edge of his anger, his hurts, and express those feelings on the page in front of him. Ian holds so much in that it becomes a creative block in a way. Once he starts breaking those walls down—with the help of Hazel—he discovers his real creativity. He finds his voice, he finds his songs. He finds himself.
Hazel and Ian are an unlikely pair. They really get on each other’s nerves and they want different things out of life. Yet despite their differences, they find a connection. What is the spark that brings them together?
I think it’s loneliness. They grew up without having the true love of their parents. And in the town of Eres, drugs are a big issue. Those drugs affected both of their parents lives in different ways, but it’s a connecting factor for them both. They are able to connect with one another because they both know what it’s like to hurt so deeply and dream of a parent’s love.
The theme of “impossible love” runs through your novels. Two people that can’t possibly make it work realize that they don’t want anyone else but each other. What excites you about these types of stories.
I think there’s something so exciting about a love worth fighting for. When the passion is given from not only one side of the equation, but both the hero and heroine know the feelings they have run deep. Sure, there are struggles, like there are in everyday life, but they know they wouldn’t want to struggle with anyone else in the world. They fight for their happily ever after, no matter what. And that, in my mind, is what makes the impossible love become possible and true. That’s what gives us the happily ever afters that we as readers crave.
Currently our country and the world are going through unprecedented crisis. The arts have become so important for people to feel a sense of normalcy. As a writer, how do you hope your story affects your readers?
I hope my stories give my readers hope. I hope it reminds them that even throughout the storms, the sun will always shine once the clouds move to the side. There’s beauty in the storms, too, if you are willing to look hard enough. There are lessons of self that can be learned, and I think my characters discover that from time to time. I just hope to showcase that this is still a time to believe in happily ever afters, and that the world’s story as a whole, is far from over. We still have so much beauty to still discover. We still have so much light to find. And those facts alone, give me hope, and I hope my stories do the same for readers. I hope I give them light.
How has our current situation affected projects you are working on now? (Any spoilers you can tell us about what is up next for you?)
I’m finding myself more forgiving of my writing pace! I fell off for a while, and found it hard to be creative, but now that I am in a groove, I am finding writing fun again. It’s my great escape from the issues around me. Words save me day in and day out, and I’m thankful for that. Up next for me is my second book in my Compass series, which is entitled Eastern Lights. It’s my first ever romantic comedy, that is filled with so much heart. I think readers are going to love getting to know Connor and Aaliyah’s story!
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BookSummary
I know I should stay away from Ian Parker.
But when my drug-dealing stepdad kicks me out, I have nowhere to go. Squatting in an abandoned shed on Ian’s grandpa’s farm seems like as good a plan as any.
Ian finds me there, of course, and he insists on me moving into his spare room. I should say no, but the appeal of a roof and a warm bed is too much. Not to mention Ian’s brown eyes and strong arms.
We’re nothing alike, but the spark between us is undeniable. My life is finally looking up.
Until I call the cops on my stepdad and unintentionally get my pregnant mom arrested.
Now I have to sacrifice my dreams to take care of my mom’s baby. She’s the only family I have left. Meanwhile, Ian’s band is taking off; his dreams are coming true.
Ian is my one chance at love. I just hope he doesn’t become the one chance that got away.
THE WRECKAGE OF US by Brittainy Cherry is a contemporary romance which has the H/h in the New Adult age range, but they have been through so much even before they meet that it feels as if they are older as you fall into their well written story by this new to me author.
Hazel Stone lives with an abusive drug dealer step-father and an addicted mother until her eighteenth year when they kick her out. It is a good thing she was hired recently on Big Paw’s ranch. She ends up squatting in an old abandoned shed until she is found out by Big Paw’s grandson, Ian and is offered a room in the manager’s ranch house.
Ian Parker dislikes the strange girl all in black that his grandfather hired and told him her had to train. Ian’s drug addicted parents left him on his fourteenth birthday and never returned. Big Paw and his wife Holly raised Ian and he wants nothing to do with the girl whose father sells the drugs in their small Nebraska town.
Ian and his three friends not only work on the ranch, but have a band called The Wreckage. They are on the verge of realizing their dream of fame. They just need that special level of emotion to take their songs to the next level. Hazel brings out that emotion and helps with the words.
Ian and Hazel find that special kind of connection, but Ian and the band are taking off and Hazel has responsibilities in the small town of Eres that keep her there. Can this new found relationship and love survive?
This book was a complete surprise to me. There are heavy subjects like physical abuse and drug abuse that I feel the author handled realistically, but the overall story is filled with the dream of forever love, family and hope. Ian closed himself off after his parents abandoned him, but he did have the love and support of his grandparents and bandmates. Hazel had a harder young life and yet she was willing to work as hard as necessary to obtain her goals step by step and was always hopeful. I loved the back and forth between small town life and the California rock star life with Hazel not wanting to stop Ian from reaching for his dreams for any reason and Ian counting on Hazel and the ranch to keep him grounded. All the secondary characters, good and bad were fully fleshed and realistic. The sex scenes were not gratuitous, but appropriate for the story.
I can highly recommend this N/A contemporary romance!
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Excerpt
A typical Eres Saturday night.
I wandered the ranch with a notebook and pen in my hand. I kept scribbling down lyrics and crossing them out before trying again to create something better, stronger—realer. I kept drumming my fingers against each other, trying to unlock the pieces that I was missing. As I paced back and forth, a voice broke me away from my mind.
“It’s the words.”
I looked up to see Hazel sitting in the rocking chair that Big Paw built for my mother years ago. I used to sit in Mom’s lap as she’d read me stories before bedtime all those years back.
There’d been times I thought about getting rid of the chair in order to forget that memory, but I hadn’t found the strength to let go just yet.
“What do you mean it’s the words?” I asked, walking up the steps of the porch. I leaned against the railing facing her.
She blinked and tilted her head in my direction. “Your words are trash.”
“What?”
“The lyrics to your songs, they are complete garbage, filled with clichés and bubblegum. Don’t get me wrong, the music style and tempos are brilliant. And even though it pains me to admit, your voice is so solid and soulful that you could be a star in a heartbeat. But your lyrics? They are pig shit.”
“I think the saying is horseshit.”
“After spending weeks in a pig pen, pig shit seems to truly sum up my feelings about your music. But my gosh, your voice. It’s a good voice.”
I tried to push off her insult, and tried to ignore her compliment, too. But it was hard. I had an ego that was easy to bruise, and Hazel was swinging her punches while also speaking words of praise. It was as if every bruise she made, she quickly covered with a Bandaid.
“Everyone else seemed to enjoy it,” I replied, tense with my words.
“Yeah, well, everyone else are morons who are drunk off their minds.”
“Oh? And you think you could do better?”
She laughed. “Without a doubt.” “Okay, Hazel Stone, master of lyrics, give me something to go with.”
She gestured toward the other rocker beside her—the one Dad used to sit in.
I sat down.
She pressed her lips together. “Okay. Give me one of your songs. One that you know is crap but are pretending isn’t crap.”
“They aren’t—”
“Lying isn’t going to get us far tonight, Ian.”
I narrowed my eyes and murmured a curse word before I began flipping through my notebook to find a song for Hazel to magically make better. “Fine. We can do Possibilities.”
“Hmm… What is it about?”
“A new relationship forming. I want to showcase those beginning feelings, you know? The fears and excitements. The nerves. The unknown. The—”
“First chapters of love,” she finished my thoughts.
“Yes, that.”
She took the pencil from behind my ear and took the notebook from my grip. “May I?”
“Please. Go for it.”
She began scribbling, crossing things out, adding things in, doing whatever came to her mind. She worked like a manwoman, falling into a world of creativity that I didn’t think she’d held inside of her. The only thing I knew about Hazel Stone was where she came from, and the clothes she wore. I hadn’t known anything else, but now she was pouring herself out on the page, and I couldn’t wait to see what the hell she was scribbling.
She took a breath and handed the notebook back to me. “If you hate it, no harm, no foul,” she said.
My eyes darted over the words. “It’s possible this is forever ours. It’s possible we’ll reach the stars. We’ll fight for this, we’ll make it real. Is it possible, possible, to show you how I feel?”
“Shit.” I blew out a breath of air. “Hazel…that’s… It’s like you crawled into my head and read the thoughts I couldn’t decipher. That’s the chorus. That’s it.”
***
About the Author
Brittainy Cherry has been in love with words since she took her first breath. She graduated from Carroll University with a bachelor’s degree in theater arts and a minor in creative writing. She loves to take part in writing screenplays, acting, and dancing—poorly, of course. Coffee, chai tea, and wine are three things that she thinks every person should partake in. Cherry lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her family. When she’s not running a million errands and crafting stories, she’s probably playing with her adorable pets.
Today I am sharing on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour. My Feature Post and Book Review is for DERAILED (PI Kelly Pruett Book #1) by Mary Keliikoa.
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
A dying wish. A secret world.
Can this grieving investigator stay on the right track?
PI Kelly Pruett is determined to make it on her own. And juggling clients at her late father’s detective agency, a controlling ex, and caring for a deaf daughter was never going to be easy. She takes it as a good sign when a letter left by her dad ties into an unsolved case of a young woman struck by a train.
Hunting down the one person who can prove the mysterious death was not just a drunken accident, Kelly discovers this witness is in no condition to talk. And the closer she gets to the truth the longer her list of sleazy suspects with murderous motives grows. Each clue exposes another layer of the victim’s steamy double life.
Can Kelly pinpoint the murderer, or is she on the fast track to disaster?
Genre: Mystery Published by: Camel Press Publication Date: May 12th 2020 Number of Pages: 232 ISBN: 1603817069 (ISBN13: 9781603817066) Series: PI Kelly Pruett #1 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop | Goodreads
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
DERAILED (P.I. Kelly Pruett Book #1) by Mary Keliikoa is the start of a new female P.I. series by a debut author. This is an intriguing mystery full of characters with secrets and plot twists which take you as well as this inexperienced P.I. down many paths before ultimately discovering the truth.
P.I. Kelly Pruett is trying to make it on her own after her divorce and the death of her father who left her his detective agency. Kelly has always been fascinated with her father’s P.I. work, but has yet to work a major investigation. Kelly is trying to move forward after the death of her father, support herself and her deaf daughter and deal with an ex and mother-in-law who are still much too involved in her life.
A client shows up looking for Kelly’s father, but retains Kelly to investigate the supposed drunken accidental death of her daughter. This is Kelly’s chance to prove to everyone she is capable of taking over her father’s firm. As Kelly investigates the life of the dead woman, nothing is as it first seemed. She had a secret life and the murder of her main suspect leads her further into a web of sleazy characters that all have their own secrets.
Kelly is learning as she goes. She is finding she has more suspects than she anticipated and their many secrets lead to a motive that the killer does not want revealed and is willing to kill again to protect.
This is a cozy P.I. mystery that is intricately plotted with deceitful characters and red herrings that kept me turning the pages as I follow this new P.I. Kelly’s personal life felt realistic and pulled me in with her determination to make her dream work, protect her relationship with her child and hopefully more of her budding relationship with the handsome police officer. I am impressed with this mystery by this debut author and I hope she will continue with many more books in this series.
I recommend this first book in this cozy P.I. mystery series.
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Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Portland, Oregon has as many parts as the human anatomy. Like the body, some are more attractive than others. My father’s P.I. business that I’d inherited was in what many considered the armpit, the northeast, where pickpockets and drug dealers dotted the narrow streets and spray paint tags of bubble-lettered gang signatures striped the concrete. In other words, home. I’m Kelly Pruett and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
I’d just finished invoicing a client for a skip trace and flicked off the light in the front office my dad and I used to share when a series of taps came from the locked front door. It was three o’clock on a gloomy Friday afternoon. A panhandler looking for a handout or a bathroom was my best guess. Sitting at the desk, I couldn’t tell.
Floyd, my basset hound and the only real man in my life, lifted his droopy eyes to meet mine before flopping his head back down on his bed. No help there.
Another rap, louder this time.
Someone wanted my attention. I retrieved the canister of pepper spray from my purse and opened the door to a woman, her umbrella sheltering her from the late October drizzle. Her angle made it hard to see her face, only the soft curls in her hair and the briefcase hanging from her hand. I slipped the pepper spray into the pocket of my Nike warmup jacket.
“Is Roger Pruett in?” she asked, water droplets splatting the ground.
She hadn’t heard the news and I hadn’t brought myself to update R&K Investigation’s website. I swallowed the lump before it could form and clutch my throat. “No, sorry,” I said. “My dad died earlier this year. I’m his daughter, Kelly.”
“I’m so sorry.” She peered from under the umbrella, her expression pinched. She searched my face for a different answer.
I’d give anything to have one. “What do you need?”
“To hire a P.I. to investigate my daughter’s death. Can you help me?” Her voice cracked.
My stomach fluttered. Process serving, court document searches, and the occasional tedious stakeout had made up the bulk of my fifteen hundred hours of P.I. experience requirement. Not that I wasn’t capable of more. Dad had enjoyed handling cases himself with the plan to train me later. In the year since his death, no one had come knocking, and going through the motions of what I knew how to do well had been hard enough. Now this lady was here for my father’s help. I couldn’t turn her away. I raked my fingers through the top of my shoulder length hair and opened the door. “Come in.”
“Bless you.” She slid her umbrella closed and brushed past me.
After securing the lock, I led her through the small reception area and into my office. A bathroom and another office that substituted for a storage closet were down the long hallway heading to the rear exit. Floyd decided to take interest and lumbered over. With his butt in the air, he stretched at her feet before nearly snuffling my soon-to-be client’s shoe up his nose. She nodded at him before vicious Floyd found his way back to his corner, tail swaying behind him. Guess he approved.
The woman looked in her mid-sixties. She had coiffed hair the color of burnt almonds, high cheekbones, and a prominent nose. She reminded me of my middle school librarian who could get you to shut up with one glance. “Would you like coffee, Ms…?”
“No thank you. It’s Hanson.” She settled in the red vinyl chair across from my dad’s beaten and scarred desk. “Georgette Hanson.”
My skin tingled when she said her name.
“My condolences on your father,” she said.
“Thank you.” Her words were simple, and expected, but her eyes held pain. Having lost her daughter, she clearly could relate.
“How did it happen?” she asked.
I swallowed again. With as many people as I’d had to tell, it should be getting easier. It wasn’t. “Stroke. Were you a former client of my father’s?”
She waved her hand. “Something like that.” She lifted the briefcase to her lap and popped the latch. Her eyes softened. “He was a fine man. You look just like him.”
My confident, broad-shouldered, Welshman father had been quite fit and handsome in his youth. Most of my adult life he’d carried an extra fifty pounds, but that never undermined his strong chin, wise blue eyes, and thick chestnut hair. I’d been blessed with my Dad’s eyes and hair and had my mom’s round chin. But since I’d ballooned a couple of sizes while pregnant with Mitz, I knew which version she thought I resembled. “What were you hoping he could do for you with regards to your daughter?”
“Find out why she’s dead.” Georgette shoved a paper dated a few weeks ago onto the desk and snapped the case lid closed.
A picture of a young woman with a warm smile, a button nose, and long wavy brunette hair sat below the fold on the front page under the headline: WOMAN STRUCK BY MAX TRAIN DIES.
I winced at the thought of her violent end. “I’m sorry. Such a pretty girl.”
“She was perfect.” Georgette pulled off her gloves, her eyes brimming. “The train destroyed that. Do you know what a train does to a hundred-pound woman?” Her voice trembled.
To avoid envisioning the impact, I replaced it with the smiling face of Mitz, my eight-year-old daughter. Which made it worse. If anything ever happened to her… How Georgette wasn’t a puddle on the Formica eluded me. I took a minute to read the story. According to the article, Brooke Hanson fell from the sidewalk into the path of an oncoming MAX train downtown at Ninth and Morrison Street. The police reported alcohol was a contributing factor. “They detained the sole witness who found her, Jay Nightingale. Why?” I set the paper down.
Georgette brushed her hair away from her forehead flashing nails chewed to the quick. “At first, the police thought he had something to do with her fall. He told them he’d seen my Brooke stumble down the sidewalk and teeter on the edge of the curb. Supposedly, he called out the train was coming and she didn’t hear him. He made no effort to get her away from those tracks. When the autopsy showed she’d been drinking, they wrote her death off as an accident, released Mr. Nightingale, and closed the case.”
Their decision couldn’t have been that cut and dry. “How much had she been drinking?”
“You sound like the police.” Georgette lifted her chin and met my gaze. There are many stages to grief. One of them anger, another denial. Georgette straddled both, something I knew plenty about. “Not sure…exactly. You’ll have to check the report.”
I scanned her face for the truth. “You don’t know or you’re afraid to tell me?”
She massaged the palm of her hand with her thumb. “The bartender at the Limbo said she’d had a few before he’d cut her off and asked her to leave. None of that matters because Nightingale’s lying. He had something to do with her fall. He may have even pushed her. At the very least, he knows more than he’s telling.”
My eyebrows raised. The police weren’t perfect, but they had solid procedures in death investigations. They would have explored that angle. “What are you basing that on?”
“My gut.”
A mother’s intuition while undeniable, alone didn’t prove foul play. “Did the MAX operator see Mr. Nightingale next to her at any point?”
“He didn’t even see her because the area wasn’t well lit.”
“Do you have his name?”
“Chris Foley.”
I jotted the information down. “What do the train’s cameras show?”
“There weren’t any. And no passenger statements because the train was done for the night. But Brooke shouldn’t have even been in the vicinity of that train.”
“Where is the Limbo located?”
“Ten blocks from where she was hit.”
A half mile, give or take. “Could she have been heading to catch the MAX to go home?”
“Brooke detested mass transit. The people who ride during the day scared her. She wouldn’t go there at night. Besides, she lived south of town. The train wouldn’t have taken her there.” She sighed. “I’m telling you, she wouldn’t be that far from the bar unless someone…” She closed her eyes.
Georgette talked in circles attempting to make sense of it all, but I had first-hand knowledge of drunk people doing things out of character. Given what she’d described, I could understand why the police had closed the matter. Even so, her devastation gripped my heart. And something had brought her out on this rainy Friday. “What are you holding back, Ms. Hanson? Why do you feel so strongly Mr. Nightingale was involved that you’d come to my dad for help?”
She stared at her hands as if they held the answers. “Brooke had changed in the last year. Become more distant. Not visiting. Missing our weekly calls.” The corner of her mouth turned upward in a sad smile. “We used to go for pie once a month. She loved pie. Apple pie. Cherry pie.” Her smile melted. “One day she was too busy and couldn’t get away. When she did, she didn’t look well. Stressed.”
“Did she say what was bothering her?”
“No. She shut me out, which she’d never done before. Now to have been killed by a train downtown when that Nightingale fellow was close enough to stop it from happening? He’s involved. I can feel it.” She straightened. “Until I know what happened that night, I won’t rest.” Georgette reached into her purse and produced an envelope grasped in her right hand. “Here’s three thousand for you to find the truth. Please say you’ll help me.”
Despite steady work from a few law firms around town, and an adequate divorce settlement, being a single mom often meant more month than money. Georgette was offering twice what I made in a good month of process serving and that would go a long way in taking care of my little girl. Not needing to ever rely on my ex would have been incentive alone, but there was more to it than that.
I’d recognized Georgette’s name the moment she’d said it. At the reading of my dad’s will, his lawyer had handed me a handwritten letter. It was a request from my dad that if a Georgette Hanson ever came to his door asking for help, I should assist and not ask questions why. It had meant nothing at the time. I’d figured it was due to his unending dedication to his clients.
Because Georgette had a connection to my dad in some capacity, that sealed my decision to at least try and help her. While I’d been directed not to ask questions, even he would have needed the obvious one answered before he took her money.
“You said she’d changed. Is there any chance she might have…I mean, was she depressed? Could she have stepped…”
Georgette cut me off. “Stop.” Her eyes grew wide with denial and the damn broke. Tears poured over her cheeks; her shoulders shook, buckling from the weight of her anguish. The anger and determination she’d used as a mask crumbled, and each passing second exposed another layer of her gut-wrenching grief.
I shifted at witnessing her raw emotion, bracing myself against my own around my father, and my thoughts on Mitz. Tears stung my eyes, unsure how to comfort my client when I struggled to do that for myself.
She muffled a wail with the back of her hand and finally drew in deep breaths until the sobs subsided.
I grabbed a box of Kleenex behind me. She already had a handful of tissue ready from her purse. I’d back off the notion of suicide—for the moment. The woman didn’t need any more distress than she’d already endured.
She sniffed hard a couple of times and sopped up her face with the tissue. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I swiped under my eyes with my fingers, gaining control over my thoughts. “I’m not sure I’ll uncover anything new, but I will look for you.”
“Thank you.” She composed herself and stuffed the tissue back in her purse for the next inevitable breakdown.
I handed Georgette one of my dad’s old contracts, explaining my hourly rate, and a couple of authorization forms that might come in handy if requesting any case files was necessary.
She signed her name without bothering to read the fine print. She stood, the vinyl chair screeching against the hardwood floor startling Floyd. Her expression softened. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Brooke was a couple of years older, but pretty, like you and with the same flowing brown hair and kind eyes.” She sniffed. “I came to Roger because he could get to the heart of things. If you’re like him, you’ll find out what happened to my baby.”
I’d never be as good as my dad, but I did possess his mule-like stubbornness to get to the bottom of things. My ex could attest to that. “I’ll do what I can.”
She nodded. “Brooke was a good girl. She loved animals, ran every morning, and worked for the law firm Anderson, Hiefield & Price. She was the head accountant there.” Her face beamed with pride before her chin trembled again, but she held it together.
“It might help if I get a better sense of who she was.” I slid the legal pad to her. “If I could get her address, I’d like to start there.”
Georgette jotted the information down and pushed it back to me. She dug into her purse and produced the key. “I haven’t brought myself to go there yet.”
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Are there family or friends I should start with?”
“Besides my husband, Chester, there’s just her sister, Hannah, who lives in Seattle. They weren’t close.” Georgette cleared her throat. “She never spoke to me about friends or boyfriends. Honestly, with her work schedule, she didn’t have time for any.”
With my own social life lacking, I related. “Do you have her cell? I’d like to check who she had on speed dial.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t among her belongings.”
What thirty-something didn’t have their phone glued to them? Unless the impact of the train threw it. Another image I pushed away. I rounded my desk and walked her out of my office.
“Please keep in touch on how the investigation is going,” she said.
I assured her I would. She squeezed my arm to thank me as she left. With a twist of the deadbolt, I rested my shoulder against the door and closed my eyes. Mitz would get hugged a little closer tonight.
At my desk, Floyd trotted over and sat at my feet. He rested his chin on my lap while I added a few more notes. His sixth sense of when I needed him never faltered. I tucked the notes, along with a couple of divorce petitions into my bag to serve in between outings with Mitz.
It was early enough to get to Brooke’s place, about twenty minutes away, and to the grocery store so Mitz and I weren’t eating PB&Js for dinner. The faster I got started and found answers, the sooner Georgette could begin healing. If I was lucky, Brooke’s phone would be sitting on her nightstand waiting to be found.
Before getting up, I pulled the letter from my dad out of the top drawer and unfolded the paper. I traced the ruts in the desk we shared with my finger as I read his words. Georgette’s name was there in black and white. I had wanted to ask her more about how she knew my dad, but he’d been explicit in his request. He was a good man, albeit a tough man that I didn’t question. Nor had I ever felt the need to. It hadn’t been easy for him after my mom died, and we became the Two Musketeers. We may have run out of time for him to teach me everything he knew about being a P.I., but I’d learn as I went. I had no other choice. Helping Georgette was the last thing I could do for him. And I would.
“Ready to boogie, Floyd?” I flicked off the lights and Floyd padded behind me down the narrow hall to the backdoor.
We jogged to my yellow 1980 Triumph Spitfire, a gift from my dad when I graduated. “You know the routine, buddy.” Floyd stretched himself halfway into the car, and with a grunt, I lifted in his other half. He tripped over the manual gearshift and settled into the passenger seat as I slunk behind the wheel. The engine started right up, for a change.
Brooke was a couple of years older than me—far too young to die. Was Nightingale involved in her death? Did he know more than he was telling? Or was he just a helpless bystander who could only watch Brooke fall because she was drunk off her ass? I had a feeling I’d be returning the bulk of Georgette’s money after putting in some legwork. With a case the Portland police had already closed and an eyewitness who’d already been cleared, what other possibility was there?
***
Author Bio
Mary Keliikoa spent the first 18 years of her adult life working around lawyers. Combining her love of all things legal and books, she creates a twisting mystery where justice prevails. She has had a short story published in Woman’s World and is the author of the PI Kelly Pruett Mystery Series.
At home in Washington, she enjoys spending time with her family and her writing companions/fur-kids. When not at home, you can find Mary on a beach on the Big Island where she and her husband recharge. But even under the palm trees and blazing sun she’s plotting her next murder—novel that is.
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Mary Keliikoa. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on September 1, 2020 and runs through October 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
Today I am sharing on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour. My Feature Post and Book Review is for Diann Mills’ AIRBORNE. Written before the current pandemic, this book is another type of viral nightmare that kept me turning the pages!
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, author bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
***
Book Synopsis
Heather Lawrence’s long-awaited vacation to Salzburg wasn’t supposed to go like this. Mere hours into the transatlantic flight, the Houston FBI agent is awakened when passengers begin exhibiting horrific symptoms of an unknown infection. As the virus quickly spreads and dozens of passengers fall ill, Heather fears she’s witnessing an epidemic similar to ones her estranged husband studies for a living—but this airborne contagion may have been deliberately released.
While Heather remains quarantined with other survivors, she works with her FBI colleagues to identify the person behind this attack. The prime suspect? Dr. Chad Lawrence, an expert in his field . . . and Heather’s husband. The Lawrences’ marriage has been on the rocks since Chad announced his career took precedence over his wife and future family and moved out.
As more victims fall prey days after the initial outbreak, time’s running out to hunt down the killer, one who may be closer to the victims than anyone ever expected.
Genre: Romantic Suspense Published by: Tyndale House Publishers Publication Date: September 8th 2020 Number of Pages: 400 ISBN: 1496427173 (ISBN13: 9781496427175)
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
AIRBORNE by Diann Mills is a Christian romantic suspense/mystery written before the current pandemic, this book is another type of viral nightmare that kept me turning the pages.
Houston FBI agent Heather Lawrence is on a flight alone to a vacation previously planned for herself and her husband to attend the famous Salzburg Music Festival in Germany. Not even over the Atlantic yet, several passengers begin exhibiting horrific viral symptoms of an unknown origin. As Heather helps the flight attendants where she can, she fears she is witnessing a viral epidemic similar to the type her estranged husband studies for a living. As she works to help other passengers, she prays for not only her own safety but that of her unborn child.
Dr. Chad Lawrence is separated from his wife of eight years. When he returned from his last trip with Doctors Without Borders, he announced that his career took precedence over his wife and any future together and that their marriage was over. He moved out and was planning to move to Atlanta for a job with the CDC, but that is now on hold as he is the prime suspect of the FBI in the viral attack on Heather’s plane.
The plane is rerouted to NYC for hospitalization of the sick passengers and all of those not showing symptoms are isolated on an island off the coast. Heather is tasked with discovering who on the plane released the virus and if her estranged husband is involved.
I enjoyed this book’s compelling main characters and the intense study of their relationship. At first, Chad really rubbed me the wrong way until I learned the reason for his actions with Heather. The questioning of beliefs and actions by both Heather and Chad in their relationship felt realistic and had me vested in the resolution. The underlying conflict between Heather’s religious beliefs and her husband’s atheism is woven throughout the story as well as other secondary character’s religious beliefs. The suspense/mystery plot is well paced and builds to a climax that was not a surprise, but was still satisfying.
I enjoyed this story’s main characters and plot and I would recommend it for readers of Christian fiction.
***
Excerpt
Chapter One
Houston
Early July
Monday, 6 p.m.
Vacations offered a distraction for those who longed to relax and rejuvenate, but FBI Special Agent Heather Lawrence wrestled with the decision to take an overseas trip alone. Normally she arrived for a flight at IAH eager to embark upon a new adventure. Not this time. Her vacation expectations had bottomed out over four weeks ago after Chad had slammed the door on reconciliation. Was she working through her grief or avoiding the reality of a husband who no longer wanted her?
She waited to board the flight in a designated line at the gate. The hum of voices blended with airport beeps, and announcements swirled around her as though enticing her to join the enthusiasm. In the line beside her, passengers shifted their carry-ons and positioned their mobile devices or paper boarding passes. Ready. Alert. People eager to be on their way.
Heather offered a smile to those nearest her. An adorable little blond boy with an older woman found it hard to stand still. A middle-aged couple held hands. The bald head and pasty skin of the man indicated a medical condition. He stumbled, and the woman reached for him. A robust man held a violin case next to his heart. A twentysomething woman with pink hair and a man behind her with a scruffy beard exchanged a kiss.
Chad used to steal kisses.
If she pinpointed the exact moment when he chose to separate himself from her, she’d say when he returned from a third trip for Doctors Without Borders late last fall. He’d witnessed suffering and cruel deaths that had scarred him. She’d encouraged his desire to help others, not realizing their future would take a backseat. While he drove toward success, their marriage drifted across the lanes and stalled in a rut.
The boarding line moved toward the Jetway. Each step shook her to the core as though she should turn and try to reverse the past seven months. She’d ignored her and Chad’s deteriorating relationship in an effort to make him happy. A huge mistake. But she didn’t intend to add the labels beaten or weak to her dossier.
A cell phone sounded, and a man boarding in front of her stopped to answer it. His shoulders stiffened under a tan sports coat, and he talked in hushed tones. Heather dug her fingers into her palms and forced one foot in front of the other while the man pocketed his cell phone and proceeded into business class.
A flight attendant greeted her, a dark-haired young man wearing a wide smile, relaxed and genuine, an obvious sign he enjoyed his job. She returned the gesture. His black jacket with two rows of silver braid on the sleeves and black trousers were magazine perfect.
Heather walked to a rear aisle seat in business class and hoisted her tote bag into the overhead compartment. Although it held essentials for every emergency in case her luggage was delayed, the bulging piece weighed less than the burden on her heart.
Easing onto her seat, Heather pulled the brochure from her shoulder bag describing Salzburg’s music festival, a celebration of musicians past and present. First a layover in Frankfurt and then on to her destination. She’d rented an apartment for ten days within walking distance of the historical center. The flexibility allowed her to choose her itinerary and cook or dine out. From the online photos, the centuries-old building had just enough updates to be comfortable without damaging its historic charm. She’d have hours to explore Mozart’s roots, museums, the many churches, immerse herself in the culture, and think.
A female passenger, sporting red spiked hair and chin-length hooped earrings, stopped beside her. The woman carried a Venti Starbucks. “Excuse me.” Her German accent a reminder of the destination. “Would you mind holding my coffee while I store my carry-on?”
“Of course.” Heather held the cup while the woman shoved her small suitcase into the overhead bin.
“Sorry for the inconvenience. I wasn’t thinking when I bought the coffee.”
“It smells heavenly.” Heather stood to let the woman pass and then handed her the cup.
“Thank you.” The woman blew on the lid and took a sip. “I’m Mia.”
“I’m Heather.”
“Long flight ahead but soon I’ll be home.” She pointed to Heather’s brochure. “Salzburg?”
“Yes. For a much-needed vacation.”
“I’m from Frankfurt. Really missing my daughter and husband.”
“You’ll see them soon.”
Mia broke into a wide smile. “We’ve done FaceTime and texted, but I want to touch their faces and hug them.”
Heather continued to read the Salzburg brochure to avoid any personal comments from Mia, like whether she was taking a vacation solo. An elderly man wearing a straw fedora and a white mustache sat in the aisle seat across from Heather. He pulled his phone from his pant pocket and used his thumbs on the keyboard like a kid.
Mia placed her coffee on the tray and made a phone call. “Wie geht es meinem kleinen Mädchen?”
Heather translated the German. How is my little girl? The woman’s excitement resonated through every word. Love. Laughter. Priceless commodities that Heather didn’t possess. Yet this trip offered an opportunity to rekindle her faith in God and chart a course for the future.
While the attendants made their way through business class with drink orders, Heather longed to have confirmation she’d made the right decision to take this trip. No one knew of her vacation plans except her parents and Assistant Special Agent in Charge Wade Mitchell in Houston. No one needed to know the why of her trip until she made a few decisions.
Stuffing the Salzburg brochure into her bag, she snatched the aircraft’s information and confirmed the layout for 267 passengers, restrooms, exit doors, in-seat power, on-demand entertainment, and three galleys. She always noted the details of her surroundings, another habit of working so many FBI cases. Always be prepared for the unexpected.
If the trip had been FBI sanctioned, her present circumstances might not hurt so much. How ironic she worked the critical incident response group as a behavior analyst, and she wrestled to understand her own life.
Right on time, the flight attendants took their assigned posts while miniature screens throughout the plane shared the aircraft’s amenities and explained the passenger safety instructions. The captain welcomed them moments before the plane lifted into the clouds.
On her way. No turning back. She prayed for a safe journey and much-needed answers.
Food smells from business class caught her attention, a mix of roasted chicken and beef. Too often of late, she forgot to eat or nothing appealed to her. To shake off the growing negativity, she paid for Wi-Fi and grabbed her phone from her bag. Time to concentrate on something other than herself.
She glanced at the incoming notifications. No texts. Her emails were an anticipated list of senders when she longed for a change of heart from Chad. Sighing, she closed her eyes. Between her job, Chad, and stress, too often she fought for enough pillow time.
Two hours later, she woke from a deep sleep to the sound of a woman’s scream.
Chapter 2
Heather whirled toward the ear-piercing cry behind her. She released her seat belt and rushed back to the economy section. The overhead lights snapped on to reveal the middle-aged couple whom she’d seen at the gate. The panic-stricken woman beside him held a tissue to his nose. Blood dripped beneath her fingers and down her wrist.
Not a muscle moved on the man’s face, and his eyes rolled back into their sockets. Heather approached him in the aisle seat. Before she could speak, the woman gasped, a mix of sobs and a struggle for composure. “Help me. I can’t stop the bleeding.”
Heather used tissues from the woman’s lap to help block the blood flow. “Try to stay calm.”
The woman nodded. “I shouldn’t have let him talk me into this trip. He’s been so weak.”
From the front of the plane, the male flight attendant who’d greeted passengers earlier rushed their way. He carried two kits, one labeled first aid and the other biohazard. A female attendant trailed after him.
“Help is here,” Heather said to the woman. She moved aside for the attendant to administer aid. She prayed the ill man was undergoing a minor problem—an easily resolved issue—and for the woman’s comfort. But his lifeless face showed a grim reality.
“Sir, how do you feel?” Not a sound or movement came from the man. Blood flowed from Heather’s mass of tissues.
The male attendant twisted off the seal of the biohazard kit and searched inside. He drew out a pair of nitrile gloves and wiggled them on. The female attendant opened the first aid kit, ripped into a gauze package, and handed it to the male attendant, who applied it to the man’s nose. She opened the biohazard waste bag to dispose of the soiled materials.
The male attendant captured the woman’s attention. “Ma’am, I’m Nathan. Is this your husband?”
“Yes. He’s very hot.”
Nathan touched the man’s forehead. “How long has he been feverish?”
“He was fine when we boarded. Perhaps over an hour into the flight?” Her sobs subsided to soft cries. “Do something. Blood’s coming from his mouth.”
Heather touched her shoulder with a clean hand. “Take a deep breath.”
“How can I? Roy’s not breathing.”
“That’s his name?” His gentle voice ushered in compassion.
“Yes. I’m Catherine.”
He bent to speak to Roy. “I’m Nathan. Give me a few minutes to administer first aid.” He replaced the gauze on Roy’s nose for the second time and turned to the female flight attendant, who’d paled but didn’t tremble. “Leave the kits. Call the flight deck and tell them what’s happening.”
She rushed to the front of the cabin.
“This is my fault.” Catherine held Roy’s hand. “He finished chemo and radiation for lung cancer, but his doctor hadn’t cleared him for the trip.”
“Catherine,” Nathan said, “I know you’re worried, but try to stay calm. Has he experienced these symptoms before?”
“No.”
A voice spoke over the interphone. “If a licensed medical professional is on board, we have a medical issue. All other passengers, please remain in your seats.”
Within moments, a lean man arrived from the right side of business class carrying a leather case. “I’m a doctor.” Heather stepped back while he examined Roy and spoke to Nathan.
While the doctor stood over Roy with his back to Heather, Nathan turned to her. “We’ve got this handled. Please return—”
“No, please. Let her stay,” Catherine said. “If she doesn’t mind.”
Nathan frowned. “Okay, for the moment. Our manual states we have to keep the aisle clear around the patient.”
“I understand,” Heather said. “I’d be happy to sit with her, and I’m Heather.”
“Miss, if the pilots call our med service on the ground, I’ll need you out of way so we can relay instructions.”
The doctor and Nathan lowered Roy to the aisle and treated him. They blocked Heather’s view of the procedure, but the doctor rummaged for something inside the leather case. For the next ten minutes, she waited for the doctor to reassure passengers of the man’s recovery.
Catherine’s hysteria spun in a cloud of uncertainty that left unchecked often spread panic. She unfastened her seat belt and rose on unstable legs. “Please, tell me my husband is all right.” The female attendant gently urged her back onto the seat.
The doctor eased up from Roy and spoke reassuring words to Catherine. He peeled off his blood-covered gloves and tossed them into the bag. Had Roy succumbed to the lung cancer or a complication?
Nathan walked to a galley area. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am Nathan Howard, your lead flight attendant on board your flight today. We appreciate your concern for the man receiving medical attention. We will transport him to the rear of the cabin, where he’ll be comfortable. A doctor is tending to him, and the medical concern is under control. Thank you.”
Heather supported the airline’s protocol designed to keep everyone from alarm and terror while the crew addressed issues. Yet a few people craned their necks to watch the scene as though it was a morbid form of entertainment more interesting than the recycled movies on the screens in front of them.
Nathan returned to Catherine. “I know you’d like for the young woman to sit with you, but it would be easier for the flight crew and safer for her if we placed an attendant here. Can we do that?”
“I guess.” Catherine’s lips quivered.
Heather bent to speak. “I’m not far.” She understood how Catherine had latched on to her, a stranger, for moral support.
Nathan and the doctor picked Roy up and carried him to the rear. Roy was either unconscious or dead.
The female flight attendant sat in Roy’s seat and held Catherine’s hand. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you like.”
“Can I join my husband?”
“When the doctor is finished, I’ll escort you back.”
Heather returned to her seat—her mind weighed with concern.
“Gott hab Erbarmen,” Mia said.
“Yes, God have mercy.”
“You speak German?”
“A little. Spent a year in Frankfurt when I was in college.”
“The sound of it makes me long for home.” She hesitated. “What’s wrong with the man?”
“His wife said he’d recently completed chemo treatments for lung cancer. I’m sure the doctor is doing all he can. The airline has doctors on the ground, and they’ll consult with the doctor on board. Between them, they’ll figure out what’s best.”
“Do you work for the airlines?”
“No.” Heather smiled. “I’m with the Department of Justice.”
Mia rubbed her palms together. She’d already stated her desire to see her family. “Will the flight be diverted?”
“It depends on lots of factors. The man may just require rest.” Heather wasn’t going to state the excessive blood from Roy’s mouth and nose pointed to his death. By now the doctors at Medi-Pro-Aire, an advisory service for airlines, had been contacted and put in communication with the pilot.
“I read the airline’s cost to emergency divert range from $10,000 to upwards of $200,000,” Mia said.
“I don’t doubt the cost, but with this airline, the safety and welfare of the passengers always come first. They don’t blink at the cost of diversion. It’s on management’s mind post-action.”
“Can the pilots be called to the carpet for making a safety decision?”
“I’m sure their procedure is in place to protect the passengers.” Heather forced comfort into her voice. “We’ll be okay.”
Muffled voices around her prompted alarm.
A man shouted for help. “My wife has a terrible headache.”
A man in business class vomited.
“My son has a fever,” a woman said.
“Please, the man beside me has a nosebleed, and he can’t stop it.”
“What is going on?” Mia whispered. “All these people are suddenly sick. Frighteningly sick.”
Heather wished she had answers while horror played out around her.
“I’m afraid.” Mia’s face turned ashen.
“We have to stay calm.” Heather craved to heed her own advice.
Throughout the plane, people complained of flu-like symptoms. Another person vomited. Heather touched her stomach. A twinge of apprehension crept through her.
Nathan spoke over the interphone. “If you are experiencing physical distress, press your call button. Flight attendants will be in your area soon with damp paper towels. Use these to cover your mouth and the tops of beverages. As always, remain in your seats.”
Heather messaged ASAC Mitchell in Houston with the medical emergency report, including the symptoms.
He responded. The FBI, TSA, CDC, and Medi-Pro-Aire are on it. Are you okay?
Yes. People’s symptoms indicate a serious virus.
The doctor on board has given a similar conclusion.
She trembled as she typed. Looks similar to what Chad described in Africa.
The doctor said the same. Is the man dead?
I think so.
How many others are sick?
Heather surveyed the passengers within her sight and typed. From my seat, I see around ten in business class, and I hear the sick in economy. Will the plane divert?
No decision yet. Keep me posted. You are our eyes.
Beyond what the doctor on board relayed to those on the ground, ASAC Mitchell must believe she held the voice of reason and objectivity. The irony of their interpretation. The viruses were usually zoonotic or caused by insects, and the symptoms created intense suffering. She blinked to clear her head and not ponder the worst.
With panic gripping her in a stranglehold, she imagined what others were feeling. A man questioned why the plane hadn’t landed. A woman bolted to the galley and held her mouth. The man who held the violin marched to the business class restroom but fell face-first and vomited.
The elderly man across the aisle from her coughed. His nose trickled blood.
Heather grabbed tissues from her bag and handed them to him. “Will this help?”
“Tell me this is a nightmare.” He gripped her arm—fiery hot.
***
Author Bio
DiAnn Mills is a bestselling author who believes her readers should expect an adventure. She is a storyteller and creates action-packed, suspense-filled novels to thrill readers. Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists; won two Christy Awards; and been finalists for the RITA, Daphne Du Maurier, Inspirational Readers’ Choice, and Carol award contests. DiAnn is a founding board member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, a member of Advanced Writers and Speakers Association, Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and International Thriller Writers. She is the director of the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference, Mountainside Retreats: Marketing, Speakers, Nonfiction, and Novelist with social media specialist Edie Melson where she continues her passion of helping other writers be successful. She speaks to various groups and teaches writing workshops around the country.
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for DiAnn Mills. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Gift Card each (Amazon or B&N). The giveaway begins on September 1, 2020 and runs through October 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
Today I am excited to be sharing on the September 2020 Harlequin Category Romance Blog Tour. I chose the Harlequin Intrigue for my Feature Post and Book Review – HIS BRAND OF JUSTICE (Longview Ridge Ranch Book #4) by Dolores Fossen.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
USA TODAY bestselling author Delores Fossen does it again, with a romantic suspense book that forces a US Marshal to confront his past—and the woman who might hold all the answers…
Can he help her recover her memory before they are both killed?
The only person who knows who killed Marshal Jack Slater’s father is Caroline Moser. But the Texas profiler has no memory of the murder, her abduction…or Jack. And her witness-protection safe house has just been compromised. Now in Jack’s protective custody, Caroline must trust her ex to help her recall her past before a murderer steals their future.
HIS BRAND OF JUSTICE (Longview Ridge Ranch Book #4) by Delores Fossen is the final romantic suspense in this series. Ms. Fossen does give enough backstory that you can read this as a standalone, but I would recommend you at least read book #1 first. These four books are about four modern day law enforcement cowboy brothers and the women they meet under perilous circumstances.
Caroline Moser was a profiler and computer wiz working on a program for law enforcement to identify serial killers spearheaded by Gemma Harrison. Their research assistant, Eric Long was a serial killer who almost killed both women. Caroline escaped with a severe head wound causing amnesia and she was placed in the WITSEC program under the protection of Marshall Jack Slater.
Marshall Jack Slater is determined to keep Caroline safe at all costs. Their relationship was lost when Caroline lost her memory as well as any clues to the murderer of the Slater brother’s father who was killed trying to save the women.
Eric Long might be dead, but someone does not want Caroline to get her memories back. As Jack tries to keep Caroline safe, he races to find the threat before even more people turn up dead.
I really enjoyed this conclusion to the Longview Ridge Ranch series. Ms. Fossen does a great job of bringing together all the threads of this plot and the overall arc of the series. I was bouncing back and forth between the suspects and for such a limited number of characters, I was still surprised. I always know that I am going to get an alpha cowboy hero and a strong heroine to match in any of Ms. Fossen books I pick up. I was excited to read Jack and Caroline’s HEA and it did not disappoint. There are explicit sex scenes, but they are not gratuitous or dragged out.
The Intrigue series always gives me a great romantic suspense or mystery that I can read quickly and be completely satisfied with the HEA. I recommend this book, this series and any book by Ms. Fossen!
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Excerpt
“I nearly got Lucille and you killed,” she said, and Caroline cursed her own voice. It was shaking, too.
Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Funny, I thought it was the shooter who nearly killed us.”
“The shooter wouldn’t have been firing those bullets if it hadn’t been for me.” She expected him to give her some sugarcoated answer, but she’d obviously forgotten this was Jack.
“That’s true.” With that hanging in the air, he waited a heartbeat. “And since I’d rather not have any more attempted murders, that means you’re going to have to let me help you.”
“You mean I’m going to have to trust Kellan,” Caroline blurted out. She was feeling a lot less shaky now.
Jack shrugged, took his hand from his pocket so he could tap the badge on his belt. “Every lawman in Texas isn’t tainted, and if you dig beneath all the anger, fear and whatever else it is you’re feeling, you’ll remember that I’m the best shot you’ve got at keeping us both alive.”
He followed that too logical minilecture with a long stare. Jack was obviously waiting for her to come to the only conclusion that she had right now.
“I’m not going to trust your brother,” she insisted, but left the rest of it unspoken—that she would trust Jack. Again, it was the only choice she had.
He nodded as if they’d just hashed that out with a heated argument. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” He paused. “Want me to take a bullet for you to prove it?”
Jack didn’t wink, but he might as well have, because he was obviously trying to lighten things up. Trying to bring her back down and ease some of the still raw adrenaline. It was working, sort of, since it was something he’d said to her in jest when they’d been lovers. A way of letting her know that he cared that much for her.
“No,” she said, drawing out the one-word answer to emphasize it. There was a lot more emotion in her voice than she wanted as she stared at him.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Yes, definitely remembering.
That helped more than his lame attempt at cop humor. His being there helped, too, and despite everything she’d been through—or maybe because of it—Caroline wanted to step right into his arms. Those strong arms with their toned muscles. She wanted to feel the heat, and the comfort that she’d gotten there before. Jack had tugged and pulled at her in a way that no man ever had before.
Or ever would again, she was forced to admit to herself.
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Author Bio
USA Today bestselling author, Delores Fossen, has sold over 70 novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award, the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award and was a finalist for the prestigious Rita ®. In addition, she’s had nearly a hundred short stories and articles published in national magazines. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.deloresfossen.com
