Tag: #jamesletoile

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Illusion of Truth by James L’Etoile

ILLUSION OF TRUTH

by James L’Etoile

January 5 – 30, 2026

Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for ILLUSION OF TRUTH (A Detective Emily Hunter Mystery Book #3) by James L’Etoile on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links, and a Partners In Crime hosted giveaway. Enjoy!

***

Book Description

A Detective Emily Hunter Mystery

Illusion of Truth takes Emily by the throat when her cop boyfriend, Brian Conner, responds to a disturbance only to be lured into a church bombing. Seriously wounded, Emily worries if he survives, will he be the man she knew? One-by-one, other officers linked to a crime years earlier are targeted. Was it covered up? Was Brian part of it? Emily discovers truth depends on who’s left to tell the story.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/231796293-illusion-of-truth?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=JbS7Zl54J3&rank=2

Illusion of Truth

Genre: Police Procedural with a Thriller Edge
Published by: Oceanview Publishing
Publication Date: January 6, 2026
Number of Pages: 366
ISBN: 978-1608096497 (1608096491)
Series: A Detective Emily Hunter Mystery, #3

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

ILLUSION OF TRUTH (A Detective Emily Hunter Mystery Book #3) by James L’Etoile is another suspenseful, edge-of-your-seat police procedural/crime thriller/mystery mash-up featuring Sacramento Detective Emily Hunter. I anxiously wait for each new book from Mr. L’Etoile in this series and the Detective Nathan Parker series. He has become one of my favorite writers in this genre with his fully developed memorable main characters and intricately twisted crime plots. While each crime plot/mystery is complete in each book, the characters and their relationships continue to evolve, and I feel the series are best read in order of publication.

Detective Emily Hunter receives a call that her fellow police officer and boyfriend, Sgt. Brian Conner, is in the hospital after being caught in a bomb blast with fellow officers on a fake call for assistance. As Emily and her partner, Det. Javier “Javi” Medina begin their investigation, the bombings continue to injure other officers and then finally the bomber murders a target. They discover all the officers were targeted due to a shared incident in their past.

Trying to pull all the threads from the past together in this investigation is not easy, while also dealing with Brian’s PTSD and TBI, and her mother’s continued mental decline due to Alzheimer’s. Will Emily be able to discover how the past is influencing the bombings of today and bring the killer to justice?

I find I need to set aside a block of time for these books because I cannot put them down. The books pull you in with Emily’s personal trials and her sometimes full hardy, but always genius ways of solving crimes and bringing the guilty to justice. While I follow every twist and turn of the investigation, I am always surprised by a last-minute twist in each plot that shocks me. You may think you know the resolution, but there is always more.

I highly recommend this addition to the Det. Emily Hunter series and cannot wait for more.

***

Excerpt

Chapter One

“All available units, report of a large crowd and 459s in progress at the corner of Rio Linda and South Ave.,” the dispatcher’s voice called out over the radio.

Sergeant Brian Conner clicked the microphone in his patrol unit. “1-Sam-12 responding.”

“Hey, Tommy, isn’t there a church on South Ave.?” Conner asked.

Tommy Robinson, a Black rookie officer assigned to Patrol District 1 in North Sacramento, turned in the passenger seat, checking for cross-traffic at the intersection. “Yeah. It’s one of those pop-up, God-in-a-box churches. You know—no denomination, takes all comers.”

“Why would a church be a target for looting at midnight?”

“It’s right on the edge of Tru Heights Bloods territory. Could be gangbangers after the food pantry and the donations the church’s brought in.”

“Tommy, let me ask you something. You’ve been married a while, so you’ve got this whole relationship thing down. When Emily says she isn’t ready to move in together, what does that mean?”

“Um, Sarge, you think I’m the one to answer that? Shouldn’t Emily—I mean Detective Hunter—tell you why?”

“I mean, sure, but I thought everything was going great—and then, she’s not ready. You ever have anything like that?”

“No. But then my Baptist momma would’ve slapped me into tomorrow if I thought about living in sin.”

“That’s not helpful, Tommy.”

Conner shot north on Rio Linda. The flashing blue lights from other patrol units ahead marked the location. As Conner pulled into the church parking lot, he expected a crowd spilling out of the church and into nearby businesses. There had been a rash of daylight attacks on retail establishments in the city, where mobs of thieves grabbed armfuls of whatever they could carry. Hitting a church in the middle of the night was a new direction.

“Where are they? The looters?” Tommy said.

Conner parked near the church entrance, ahead of another Sacramento Police Department SUV, and stepped from his vehicle. He couldn’t spot a single person near the church, except for the six police officers who had responded to the call.

“Dispatch, 1-Sam-12, have a callback number on the RP? Looks like a false alarm.”

“Negative, 1-Sam-12. Caller didn’t give their name.”

An officer rounded the corner of the church building and approached Conner. “Nobody’s here, Sarge. What gives?”

The hairs on the back of Conner’s neck pricked up. He swiveled around and surveyed the darkened windows on the street opposite. They were lured here.

“Got movement across the street—second floor, left side,” an officer called out. His brass nameplate read Tucker.

Conner spotted the window and the flare of a cigarette. Someone watching the police respond to this snipe hunt?

“We see any evidence of a break-in? Broken windows, open doors, anything?”

“Nada. Simmons and I walked the perimeter. No sign of entry. No sign of anything,” Tucker said.

“Someone wanted all the units in District 1 to respond. A report of a large crowd breaking into businesses would draw us out here.”

“They needed a diversion so they could pull off whatever they were into somewhere else,” Tucker said.

“Maybe. I haven’t heard anything new from dispatch. Why would we get a callout to the edge of Tru Heights territory?”

“Westgate Crips are on the other side of the freeway. I could see them making a false report to push us to roust a couple of their rivals.”

“Well, nothing going on here. Why don’t you and your partner hit the road. Let dispatch know this was a dry hole,” Conner said.

“Got it, Sarge. You need Parker and Cortez in the other unit? They’re watching the back of the church.”

“Nah, send them on their way, would you?”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Tucker. Be careful out there. I’ve got an uneasy feeling about someone sending us here.”

“I hear you.”

Conner started back to his SUV, paused, and turned. “Hey, Tucker, anyone check the front door lock?”

“Yeah, I shook it. Locked up tight.”

Tucker and his partner got into their SUV, shut off the lights, and backed out of the church parking lot.

Tommy Robinson wandered to the front entrance and peered through the smoked glass doors. “Place is empty. Nothing going on—hey, what’s up with this?”

A metal donation bin sat to the right of the front door. Gang graffiti adorned the side of the four-foot-tall, repainted mailbox.

Conner caught the glint from a thin wire attached to the donation box door. On the concrete below, a cut padlock lay in the shadow.

Tommy reached for the bin.

“Tommy! Wait!”

Conner ran to the young officer as he tugged on the lid.

“Stop,” Conner said.

Tommy was focused on the unlocked donation bin and didn’t hear Conner.

Conner shoved Tommy as a click echoed in the entry vestibule. A microsecond later, a fireball erupted from the donation bin.

A pressure wave of heat and metal shards exploded. Conner caught the blast in the back as he pushed Tommy away. The force of the explosion picked Conner off his feet and threw him into the brick wall opposite the donation bin.

Conner couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in his ears, and his vision was a blurred kaleidoscope of flames and smoke. From where he fell, he could see the parking lot and the window across the street. The glowing ember from the cigarette was gone, but he swore he spotted a flashing red strobe.

Another explosion sounded to his right. A flash of orange shot from the parking lot. Conner squinted through his warped vision and saw a police SUV on fire. Tucker and his partner, Simmons. He couldn’t see them anywhere.

He tried reaching for his shoulder-mounted radio microphone and his arm wouldn’t move. A quick glance down and Conner saw his broken arm pointing in the wrong direction.

“Tommy. Tommy, you okay?”

Conner couldn’t hear anything but the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

He wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight. Conner swapped the shift with a buddy so his friend could go spend some time with his kids.

Conner felt cold, and a heavy blanket of exhaustion fell over him. Emily. He wanted to tell Emily how much he loved her one more time. She’d wanted to take it slow, but now he felt regret. He should’ve told her how he felt when he had the chance.

The sirens in the distance pierced through his muffled hearing. They would not be in time.

“Emily” . . .

***

Author Bio

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novels, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. His novels have been shortlisted or awarded the Lefty, Anthony, Silver Falchion, and the Public Safety Writers Award. River of Lies, Served Cold, and Sins of the Father are his most recent novels. Look for Illusion of Truth coming soon.

Social Media Links

Website: https://jamesletoile.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/james.letoile

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorjamesletoile/

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/jamesletoile.bsky.social

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/illusion-of-truth-a-detective-emily-hunter-mystery-book-3-by-james-l-etoile

Purchase Links

PARTNERS IN CRIME HOSTED GIVEAWAY

https://pictbooks.tours/KkRVvqpM

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Sins of the Father by James L’Etoile

SINS OF THE FATHER

by James L’Etoile


August 4 – 29, 2025

Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SINS OF THE FATHER (A Detective Nathan Parker Novel Book #4) by James L’Etoile on this Partners In Crime Book Tour.

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

***

Book Description

Detective Nathan Parker discovers an unidentified man tossed to his death from an airplane is connected to the emergence of a new criminal organization, Red Dawn, when a secretive Joint Terrorism Task Force appears in Phoenix. The leader of the Task Force coerces Parker to support their efforts or his ex-coyote friend, Billie Carson, could face federal charges for supporting a terrorist organization. With Billie’s freedom in jeopardy, Parker agrees and one-by-one, people associated with the Task Force are picked off. When a target close to Parker is attacked, and the Task Force leader vanishes, Parker seeks help from an unusual ally to expose Red Dawn’s mastermind. Familiar foes, lies, secrets, and a father’s sin converge in a deadly standoff.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/235376868-sins-of-the-father?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=amRRrM9UwQ&rank=1

Sins of the Father

Genre:  Thriller; Police Procedural
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: July 15, 2025
Number of Pages: 320
ISBN:  978-1-68512-992-7
Series: The Detective Nathan Parker Novels, Book 4

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

SINS OF THE FATHER (A Detective Nathan Parker Novel Book #4) by James L’Etoile is an action-packed police procedural crime thriller and another great addition to this series. The series follows Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office Detective Nathan Parker, his co-workers, family, and friends as they deal with immigrants, cartels, gangs and drugs on both sides of the border. While each book has a main crime plot which is unique to that book, I feel the books should be read in order for character continuity and because of some carryover antagonists from prior books.

A new criminal organization, Red Dawn, is attacking the cartels over the border and has moved to killing FBI Terrorism Task Force members and innocents in Nathan’s jurisdiction. Nathan gets pulled into the investigation by the Task Force’s leader by applying legal pressure on his friend, Billie. While every clue in this investigation leads to Red Dawn, it also has Nathan believing it ties to his past with Esteban Castaneda, the vicious leader of the Los Muertos gang, but he is in solitaire in the Federal Colorado Supermax.

With several dead bodies and one of his own shot and fighting for his life, Nathan and his team are finding more questions than answers. With an unrelenting pace, danger all around them, and twists that continually change the direction of the investigation, Nathan and his team must discover the truth before any more people die.

I always look forward to a new Nathan Parker crime thriller. Nathan, his friends, coworkers, and adopted family are all fully developed and interesting. The information the reader receives through the character of Billie is informative and thought-provoking as she just wants to help people no matter who they are or their legal status. The locations on both sides of the border are all brought to life with Mr. L’Etoile’s descriptive and well researched writing. The crime plots could come right out of the current news cycles and have many layers, twists, and surprises that keep the reader turning the pages. I never quite get the entire picture before the resolution, which I enjoy.

I highly recommend this gripping crime thriller and cannot wait for more!

***

Excerpt

Chapter One

Death to a ten-year-old is a pause in a video game. It’s temporary. A momentary setback until you’re back into the game again. At their age, the boys of Boy Scout Troop 116 thought they were immortal. Or they did until they got their first glimpse of human remains.

Ken Dryden stood on the brakes, sending the fifteen-passenger van into a skid on the hard-packed desert road. A flock of eight turkey vultures pecked and tore hunks of flesh from their prey. The enormous birds didn’t budge at the approach of the speeding white passenger van. Only one bothered to look up with a flap of meat hanging from its curved beak.

The birds ignored a loud burst from the van’s horn. Dryden unbuckled and turned to the eight boys in the back. “Stay here.”

Dryden and the assistant scoutmaster, Bill Cope stepped from the van and approached the circle of birds.

“Must’ve found themselves a coyote or something,” Cope said. “Why you insist we take this road? It’s in the middle of—”

“This can’t be…” Dryden trailed off and crept toward the flock of scavengers.

“Whatever they found, they sure don’t want to give it up,” Dryden said as he waved his arms trying to chase the birds off the road.”

“Don’t blame them. Pickings are probably a bit thin out here.”

From behind, a high-pitched voice called out. “Oh, cool. What did they kill?”

Dryden turned and three ten-year-old boys stood a few feet away gawking at the feeding frenzy on the hardscrabble dirt road.

“I told you guys to wait in the van.”

“What did they find?” The tallest boy asked.

“Probably a coyote or something run over on the road, Chase.”

“There’s no tracks in the dirt but ours,” Chase said.

The birds fought and squawked at one another, tearing bits of flesh out from the beaks of weaker birds in the flock. Wings flared and cupped over the remains, claiming them.

“Mr. Dryden? What’s that?” Chase asked.

“What?”

“That,” the boy said with a trembling finger, pointing toward the largest vulture with a torn hunk of flesh hanging from its red beak.

Dryden followed the boy’s line of sight and under the bird’s talons were the remains. He felt sick when he saw it. A brown work boot. Coyotes didn’t wear boots.

“Oh my God.”

“Is it a dead person? Chase said.

“Back to the van boys,” Cope said.

“But—”

“Now!” Dryden barked the order, and the three scouts scurried back to the van.

“Why did you take us on this back road to begin with? What do we do now?” Cope asked Dryden. The two adult supervisors of this scout troop stood at the desert crossroads.

Cope pulled out his cell phone. “No signal out here. We need to call 911.”

Dryden looked back to the van and all eight boys pressed up against the windows gawking at the human remains as the carrion birds devoured their treasure.

“We gotta get them outta here,” Dryden said.

He charged the birds, and most of them backed away. Dryden got a good look at what lay in the desert crossroads—a man, twisted, mangled, and broken. Huge swaths of flesh torn away by the feeding birds. Dryden’s shoulders drooped at the sight—a dead man left in the crossroads.

“I’ll try and keep them away. Drive the boys back out to Quartzite. Call 911. I’ll wait.”

“You wanna stay out here? In this heat?” Cope said.

“It’s early, the heat won’t top out for a couple of hours. I’ll take my pack and all the water we can spare. I’ll be fine. There’s a little shade over there under that Palo Verde.”

Tall, dry creosote brush and a few taller gangly green Palo Verde trees and Saguaro cactus lined the crossroads

“You sure? It’s not like you can help that guy?”

“Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve to get eaten by these feathered desert rats either. How would you feel if it was someone you knew?”

Dryden retrieved his day pack and two canteens from the van.

“Guys, Mr. Cope is going to take you out. He’ll stop in Quartzite for a pee break.”

“I’ll stay with you, Mr. Dryden,” Chase said.

“Everyone’s going with Mr. Cope.”

A sigh of disappointment filled the back of the van. Dryden knew Chase’s mother was going to meltdown over her precious offspring’s exposure to the dark fringes of life. He figured the Scottsdale socialite would spirit her son away to a resort in Sedona for a crystal bath and chakra realignment.

Dryden hefted his pack and slung the canteens over his shoulder while the van cut a three-point turn and returned in the direction they came.

Once the dust and engine noise died down, all that remained was the breeze cutting through the dried brush and the cackling of the vultures fighting over their prize.

Setting his pack down, Dryden broke off a creosote branch and swung it in front of him forcing the birds away from the remains. Reluctantly, the birds gave up and hopped to the other side of the crossroads.

Dryden closed in on the dead man and grimaced at the mess the vultures made. Unrecognizable. Legs twisted and folded under the body, with a boot sticking out at an impossible angle. No way Chase would earn his first aid merit badge here.

The arms were flayed out over his broken head.

“Oh God.”

Dryden noted the wrists bound with zip ties. This wasn’t a lost hiker. This was a murder victim.

He snatched his cell phone and tried calling Cope to warn him, but the screen reminded him there was no cell signal out here. He shot a series of photos of the dead man, figuring the police would want to see what they found before the vultures could finish it off.

Dryden backed off into the shade and moved out when the vultures grew brave enough to advance. Back and forth for an hour until Dryden spotted a dust trail.

It was too soon for Cope to have summoned help. Quartzite was more than an hour away and the authorities would need time to respond after Cope called them. And this dust plume was coming from the other direction and building fast.

A dead man. Murdered. Alone in the desert. Only a twinge of relief. It wasn’t someone he knew. He knew what that kind of loss felt like and felt guilty about feeling thankful. The dust plume was coming in fast and there was the faint whine of an ATV engine—high pitched and loud.

Dryden snatched his pack and blended into the brush along a game trail, hoping he didn’t encounter an unfriendly javelina. Fifty feet from the road, he hunched down as a green ATV tore into the crossroads and skidded to a stop a few feet away from the body.

Two men stepped from the six-wheel ATV, and one used a bulky satellite phone. After a quick call, the two men donned gloves and picked up the remains, tossing them into the rear cargo compartment of the ATV. They weren’t gentle about it—they were hurried. They needed several trips to gather the bits and pieces.

Once they finished loading the dead man, they sped off in the direction they came from.

Dryden waited until the dust plume died down before he stepped out from his hiding place. He approached the spot in the center of the crossroads where the body had been. There was little to prove a life ended there. The red dirt was marked by a dark circle—what Dryden believed was blood. A single human finger was left behind by the men on the ATV.

A second trail of dust appeared on the horizon in the direction Cope and the boys used on their way out.

Dryden sank back into the brush again until the Black and Yellow Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office SUV pulled to a stop near the intersection.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the finger. Had they left the finger by mistake, or was it a message?

***

Author Bio

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novels, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. His novels have been shortlisted or awarded the Lefty, Anthony, Silver Falchion, and the Public Safety Writers Award. River of Lies, Served Cold, and Sins of the Father are his most recent novels. Look for Illusion of Truth coming soon.

Social Media Links

Website: https://jamesletoile.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/james.letoile

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorjamesletoile/

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/jamesletoile.bsky.social

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/sins-of-the-father-a-detective-nathan-parker-novel-by-james-l-etoile

Purchase Links

Amazon: https://pictbooks.tours/9mTcPYeg

Goodreads: https://pictbooks.tours/LPTBlXux

###

KINGSUMO GIVEAWAY

https://www.promoamp.com/c/sins-of-the-father-james-letoile

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Devil Within: A Nathan Parker Detective Novel by James L’Etoile

Devil Within

by James L’Etoile

July 24 – August 18, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for DEVIL WITHIN: A Nathan Parker Detective Novel by James L’Etoile on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

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

***

Book Description

The border is a hostile place with searing heat and venomous serpents. Yet the deadliest predator targets the innocent.

A sniper strikes in the Valley of the Sun and Detective Nathan Parker soon finds a connection between the victims—each of them had a role in an organization founded to help undocumented migrants make the dangerous crossing. Parker discovers no one is exactly who they seem.

There’s the devil you know and then there’s the devil within—when the two collide, no one is safe.

Devil Within is the sequel to the Anthony and Lefty Award nominated Dead Drop.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/150491854-devil-within?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=Ok6bKYU5Ig&rank=1

Devil Within

Genre: Procedural/Thriller
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: July 2023
Number of Pages: 310
Series: The Nathan Parker Detective Series, Book 2

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

DEVIL WITHIN: A Nathan Parker Detective Novel by James L’Etoile is an adrenaline rush of a thriller/ police procedural that is impossible to put down. I loved the first book, Dead Drop, in this series and this follow-up second book is just as gripping from start to finish. I feel that for the reader to really enjoy this book, they should read book one first because all the characters are carried over with continuing storylines.

Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office Detective Nathan Parker is assigned to investigate a series of shootings that are being labeled the Sun Valley Sniper murders. At first, the victims all seem random, but as he digs deeper, he discovers a disturbing connection between the Immigrant Coalition an organization that aides undocumented migrants, a Mexican gang, and the Aryan Nation. Nathan also must deal with the revelation that Estaban Castaneda, the gang leader who killed his partner is back on American soil and has kidnapped his foster son, Miguel.

This is another fantastic thriller/police procedural that kept me on the edge of my seat. All the characters we met in book one are back and just as dynamic and believably crafted. The mysterious Billie is once again integral to Nathan’s investigation and his education on immigrant problems. This multi-layered plot is intricately woven with varying hate groups, Mexican gangs, law enforcement, corrupt politicians, legal and illegal immigrants, human trafficking, and those fighting to aide the immigrants. I was completely surprised by the reveal of the sniper.

I highly recommend this thriller/police procedural and I am looking forward to many more in this series!

***

Excerpt

Chapter One

Nia Saldana didn’t think today would be the day she died. Why would she? She was careful and avoided situations which drew too much attention. She never wanted to be noticed. When you got noticed, it only led to trouble, or worse.

She cursed herself for snooping around her employer’s office as she tidied up. The big man wasn’t who he pretended to be. If others knew what she saw…

Nia fought off anxiety driving home after another twelve-hour day cleaning homes on Camelback Mountain, the upscale enclave in Central Phoenix. Commuter traffic on this section of the 101 loop was a field of brake lights and her hands gripped the wheel, knowing she’d be home after her two girls were asleep. Her sister Sofia never complained when she watched the girls and loved them as if they were her own. Nia regretted every minute away from them, and the envelope of cash on the seat next to her meant she could stop and pick up a little pink box of day-old Mexican pastries for the girls as a sweet surprise.

A job that didn’t require hours away from her girls was a dream. She didn’t dare look for a better-paying job. There was too much at risk for a single, undocumented mother. One wrong move, like getting caught in her employer’s office, and she would join her deported husband in Hermosillo. What would happen to the girls then?

She pushed a worn stuffed animal away from her leg when she caught a sudden blur from the right. A familiar black SUV cut across her path, nearly clipping the front end of her Nissan Sentra. She knew her boss was furious; in a way she’d never seen before. But to chase her on the freeway because of what she’d discovered? Reckless.

A pop caught her attention. Seconds later, the heavy SUV lurched and bumped Nia’s sedan into the left lane, pushing her into the gravel median. A second pop sounded moments before the wheel wrenched from Nia’s hands sending the Sentra into a hard spin to the left until it faced back into the oncoming traffic.

Rubber barked on the asphalt as a semi-truck slammed on its brakes and the trailer jackknifed, a wall of metal rushing toward Nia’s windshield. The Sentra crumpled from the impact of the heavy eighteen-wheeler. The thin metal roof folded in pinning her against the seat. The steering wheel crushed against the driver’s seat, and Nia with it. The pressure against her chest made breathing impossible. If her brother-in-law hadn’t sold the airbag for a few dollars…. Nia glanced at the blood-spattered stuffed animal and pulled it close to her.

Inside her broken passenger side window, Nia watched as the SUV plowed into the metal rails in the center divider without slowing down. The driver slumped over the wheel after his vehicle came to rest. Why? Why did he? The grip on the stuffed animal loosened as she grew cold. The faces of her two young girls were the last images she held while she slipped away.

Chapter Two

Detective Sergeant Nathan Parker weaved his way through the snarl of traffic on the freeway. Phoenix dwellers took it in stride because commute hours meant a sludge across the valley with a daily multi-car pile-up, or a disabled vehicle in the tunnel. None of the usual reasons for traffic meltdowns would justify a Major Crimes detective call out.

Parker’s Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office Ford Explorer was unmarked, but the antenna bristling on the roof and the flashing red and blue lights in the grill gave it away. As he approached, he wasn’t certain what warranted a major crimes investigator. Parker spotted the vehicles spun out in the median, the front end of a compact sedan crumpled under a big rig trailer. No one would survive this one.

Fire engines stopped traffic in the two lanes near the accident. A single lane of cars bled through the remaining gap in the freeway, going slow enough to glimpse the gruesome wreckage.

Deputy Marcus Stone called Parker on his cell phone rather than make the call over the department radio frequency. The call was quick on detail, other than Deputy Stone needed Parker at the scene. Parker’s mind shuffled through the possibilities as he pulled his Explorer to the far left median. He spotted the wrecked SUV on the center divider, twenty yards from the jackknifed semi-truck. A high-profile victim, or an influential Phoenix power player caught in a deadly drunk driving crash? Maybe. Politics was king, even in the desert. The twisted remains of the Nissan underneath the big rig, however, didn’t scream of valley nobility.

Parker spotted deputy Stone near the rear of the Phoenix Metro Fire Department engine. Stone looked gray.

“Marcus.” Stone didn’t take his gaze from the fire crew using an air powered extraction device, sometimes called the Jaws of Life, to peel back the exposed left front quarter panel of the gutted Nissan Sentra . “We’ve got two deceased.” Stone jutted his square jaw at the Nissan. “A young woman. In the SUV against the guardrail, our second victim, a middleaged white male.”

“Looks nasty. Any statements from witnesses about how it happened. Why’d you call me out, anyway? Traffic accidents aren’t usually our thing.” Stone started toward the SUV. “Come with me.” Stone didn’t wait for Parker and made a path around the littered wreckage toward the black SUV. Parker noticed the driver slumped over the wheel after the fire department opened the driver’s door and left him in place. From experience, Parker knew fire crews extracted accident victims from the vehicles and tried to administer lifesaving treatment.

The driver’s razor cut gray hair lay matted in crimson. His skull disappeared in a jagged mess of blood and bone behind his ear.

“He’s been shot. Dammit, this makes three in a month,” Parker said. “That’s why I called you.”

Instinctively, Parker glanced at his surroundings. The freeway sat in the bottom of a wash, with city streets twenty feet above on both sides. An unnatural valley, but a natural killing ground for the Sun Valley Sniper. “Get any ID on this guy?”

Stone held a plastic evidence bag in his hand. Parker hadn’t noticed the deputy gripping the plastic envelope since his arrival.

“Roger Jessup. Local attorney, according to the Arizona Bar card in his wallet.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of him before. Gives us an angle to look at—you know, the whole disgruntled client thing.”

They both turned at the sound of ripping metal pulled from the Nissan Sentra. Two fire fighters crouched into the passenger compartment, cut the seatbelt, and pulled the driver from the car. They placed her gently on a yellow tarp spread on the gravel shoulder.

“I take it she wasn’t a shooting victim?” Parker said.

“No. The collision with the SUV spun her out and then the big rig finished it. Wrong place, wrong time, poor thing.”

“You call in the Medical Examiner?”

Stone shook his head. “Didn’t know how you would handle it.”

“No problem. While I call the M.E., could you ask the fire crews to set up some tarps to give our victims a bit of respect?”

“On it.” Stone strode off to the closest fire fighter and started pointing at the scene.

Parker approached the Nissan as the fire department crew draped a tarp over the dead woman. Parker saw she was olive skinned, young, perhaps in her early thirties, with dark black hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was attractive, but even in death, she carried signs of stress, lines creasing her forehead, and dark bags under her eyes. Parker dropped to one knee and scanned the passenger compartment. The driver was crushed. If it wasn’t bad enough, Parker spotted a well-loved stuffed animal on the seat.

“Oh man. She’s got kids.”

He reached for her purse and pulled the inexpensive plastic and cardboard handbag from the floorboard. Parker had seen these knockoff items before, carried by women coming over the border. He fished through the purse for a wallet and ID. Nothing. No driver’s license, insurance cards, or credit cards. When he stood, he spotted a blood-stained envelope. When he lifted it from the seat, it held one hundred dollars. No note or message in with the five twenty-dollar bills. The face of the envelope bore a simple inscription: “Nia.”

“Nia, what happened?”

Parker thought deputy Stone might be right. He was about to write it off as another case of a random victim until he found the bullet hole in the Nissan’s front tire. The tire exploded outward on the opposite side of the path of entry. Likely sending the compact sedan into an uncontrolled skid, careening off any vehicles in the next lane.

What were the chances of two cars being shot at in evening commuter traffic?

***Excerpt from Devil Within by James L’Etoile. Copyright 2023 by James L’Etoile. Reproduced with permission from James L’Etoile. All rights reserved.

***

Author Bio

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novel, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. Black Label earned the Silver Falchion for Best Book by an Attending Author at Killer Nashville and he was nominated for The Bill Crider Award for short fiction. His most recent novel is the Anthony and Lefty Award nominated Dead Drop. Look for Devil Within and Face of Greed, both coming in 2023.

Social Media Links

www.JamesLEtoile.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @crimewriter
Instagram – @authorjamesletoile
Twitter – @JamesLEtoile
Facebook – @AuthorJamesLetoile

Purchase Links

Amazon – https://amzn.to/3N3S0Nl
Goodreads – https://bit.ly/3oDCEFO

###

KINGSUMO GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/p4xndr/devil-within-by-james-letoile-gift-card

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Dead Drop by James L’Etoile

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for DEAD DROP (A Detective Nathan Parker Novel Book #1) by James L’Etoile on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

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

***

Book Description

Hundreds go missing each year making the dangerous crossing over the border. What if you were one of them?

While investigating the deaths of undocumented migrants in the Arizona desert, Detective Nathan Parker finds a connection to the unsolved murder of his partner on a human smuggling run. The new evidence lures Parker over the border in search of the truth, only to trap him in a strange and dangerous land. If he’s to survive, Parker must place his life in the hands of the very people he once pursued.

Border violence, border politics, and who is caught in between. The forces behind it might surprise you.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61440622-dead-drop?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=ggtpHIUfIq&rank=2

Dead Drop

Genre: Thriller
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: July 19, 2022
Number of Pages: 300
ISBN: 978-1-68512-114-3
Series: The Detective Nathan Parker Series, Book 1

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

DEAD DROP (A Detective Nathan Parker Thriller Book #1) by James L’Etoile is a mash-up of fast-paced thriller, Federal and local police procedural, and southern border crime mystery. This is the first book in this new series and the first book I have read by this author.

Detective Nathan Parker is called by an eccentric local named Billie about four 55-gallon drums off the side of the highway she discovered while searching for scrap. She has opened one of the drums and found a body stuffed inside. This dead drop is not the first found and all contained illegal immigrant males. The coroner discovers they have all died from fentanyl poisoning.

When Parker gets to close to several cartel operations, he is carried across the border to meet the head of the cartel and faces a horrible death, but Billie has followed him. Billie is not what Parker first perceived and he soon learns to survive, he is going to have to put his life in the hands of the people he once pursued and looked down upon.

I thought I was getting a straightforward southern border drug cartel crime story, but this story with its many twists and surprises is so much more. Nathan Parker is a man who has been in law enforcement for some time and has preconceived notions. He is also carrying a lot of guilt over the death of his partner. As Parker progresses through the story, he has his eyes opened and is discovering an empathy he did not have previously. Billie is a big part in helping Parker see the other side of his prejudice against illegal immigrants and in helping him fight and survive the antagonists. I liked Nathan and his character’s growth, but I really loved Billie. This is the first book I have read written by this author, and I will be looking for others in his catalogue. Great characters, fast-paced, surprising and a realistic ending had me reading this book way past my bedtime.

I highly recommend this first thriller in this new series, and I cannot wait for more!

***

Excerpt

Chapter 1

With one good score Billie Carson hoped she could begin to repair the damage from her past. But after three hours kicking rocks in the sweltering North Phoenix sun, all Billie had to show for the effort was a bag of beer cans and three Jeep lug nuts. She knew most folks wrote her off as a scavenger, but Billie fancied herself as a treasure-hunter. It was a romantic notion, in her mind—always looking for that one big find. She’d dug up wallets, rings, car parts, and good scrap metal out here. Not the crap you tripped over in the bottom of a desert wash, but leftover copper wire from building sites and steel tire rims left behind on the side of the asphalt. The recycling yards paid you good money for that shit, but money could never really make up for the broken lives she’d left behind. How could you repay the ghosts of men you’d led to their death?

Billie looked at the meager haul in her black garbage bag and calculated she wouldn’t be able to buy a cold beer at Paula’s Roadhouse on the way home, let alone help anyone else. Besides, the Roadhouse made her sit outside on the patio with her beer, on the days she could afford one. Paula told her once she made the regulars uncomfortable and wasn’t welcome inside. The beer was cold out on the patio and she figured she wouldn’t like the company inside anyway.

She knew there were treasures out here among the Saguaro cactus and creosote brush waiting to be discovered. Hell, she found her Maui Jim sunglasses out here, you could barely see the crack in the left lens after you got used to it. If she had the money, she’d buy one of them fancy electronic metal detectors that beeped and chirped when you found the good stuff. Paula would let her inside the Roadhouse then, for sure. Until Billie found her big score, she’d keep her head down and kick some more rocks.

Dry, spindly brush dotted the roadside. Thin branches cracked when you knocked up against them. The broken limbs were sharp and left red welts if you ventured too far off the beaten path. Motorists tossed, or lost, most of the good stuff she found a few feet off the road. Billie couldn’t imagine a world where you lost hard earned jewelry out your window and didn’t bother to stop and go find it. If tourists on their way to Cave Creek, or Sedona, were so well off they didn’t need their stuff–that was fine by her.

Billie spotted a set of tire tracks off the asphalt and her heart began to race. What if she found a broken refrigerator dumped in the brush? She could eat for a month on what she’d pull for scrapping a hulking appliance. She’d figure a way to drag it out of the desert before someone else grabbed it. The wide tracks bent behind a rock outcropping digging three inches into the sandy desert floor. Billie knew the vehicle was laden with treasure if it left tire tracks up to her ankles.

She slipped a dingy blue bandanna from her head and wiped the gritty sweat at the back of her neck. A makeshift canteen, fashioned from a Gatorade bottle and a length of drapery cord hung from Billie’s neck. She unscrewed the plastic cap and poured the last of her water on the bandanna. The soaked cloth cooled her head for the climb to the top of the hardscrabble rock outcropping.

The view from the small rise looked down into a deep, sandy wash where the memory of scant seasonal rainfall from the monsoons faded into chalky dust. Patches of tinder-dry brush lined the edges of the dry bed. The heavens hadn’t seen fit to nourish their shallow roots for months. A moonscape of tumbled rocks, sand, and broken branches, left behind by a distant flash flood, lined the bed. At the center of the sandy basin, the deep ruts ended. A second set of tire tracks painted a story of a stop before backing into the middle of the sand. At the end of the tracks no prize waited for her; no refrigerator, no mattress, not even a crumpled beer can. Whatever it was, Billie figured someone else got here first. She crawled down the rock ledge to the floor of the basin, kicking smaller rocks and watching for rattlesnakes along the way.

Down in the wash, the dry brush was taller than it seemed from the view up on the rise. Thin dried fingers of creosote bush towered over Billie’s five-seven height, and the vegetation screened off access to the dry bed. The brush lay crushed and broken at the edge of the parched earth where the vehicle punched through the barrier. Billie hiked the plowed path, where dry shattered twigs snapped under her boots releasing the acrid resin smell from the creosote bush.

Hidden from the road, Billie knew this was the perfect spot for a quick illegal dump. Yet, there was nothing here. Maybe it was a quickie dump of another sort, she thought, a make-out spot for a couple of hormone-engorged teenagers.

She turned and spotted a bright white patch in the brush at the bottom of the draw. A few steps closer and Billie made out four fifty-five gallon drums partially hidden under a layer of broken creosote branches. She wouldn’t have seen them if it weren’t for the blue and white stripes emblazoned on the sides of the containers.

“Well, shit. This don’t get any better.”

Billie swiveled around and tried to catch a glimpse of anyone who might be keeping an eye on the barrels. She knew she wasn’t the smartest woman, but what she did know was people who stashed things in the desert, generally don’t want them found. She also knew you dumped things out here to get rid of them fast.

Billie got on her knees next to one of the barrels, tossed off the layer of broken branches, and the hot metal surface burned her palm. She wrapped her bandanna around her fingers and forced the barrel upright. It was heavy, but she felt the contents shift as the barrel moved. She figured a land developer or machine shop owner needed a place to dump used oil, or chemicals they’d have to pay the county to take off their hands. Billie figured the empty drums would net her ten bucks a piece, easy. She’d dump the oil, or whatever was in the cylinder, back in the dusty wash. Her daddy always poured his motor oil out in the desert and Billie never even saw so much as a sick coyote.

She strained with the locking ring on the lid. It wouldn’t budge. Billie ran a finger across dark marks where tack welds burnt the paint away from the locking ring.

Something good was in this barrel, for sure. Why go through this effort for used motor oil? If it was old pesticide, maybe she could wrangle a reward from one of them cactus-lovin’ environmental places.

Billie grabbed a rock and hammered it against the welds. They chipped away after a few blows, and the bent locking ring fell at her feet. With the blade of a folding knife Billie kept on her belt, she pried under the lid. The lid popped and released a strong odor from within the sealed container. Billie grabbed her bandana and held it over her nose. The stench was unmistakable–decomposing flesh.

***

Author Bio

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his novels, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, facility captain, and director of California’s state parole system. He is a nationally recognized expert witness on prison and jail operations. He has been nominated for the Silver Falchion for Best Procedural Mystery, and The Bill Crider Award for short fiction. His published novels include: Black Label, At What Cost, Bury the Past, and Little River. Look for Dead Drop in the summer of 2022.

Social Media Links

www.jamesletoile.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @crimewriter
Instagram – @authorjamesletoile
Twitter – @jamesletoile
Facebook – @AuthorJamesLetoile

Purchase Link

 Amazon

***

RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/u3ucmk/dead-drop-by-james-letoile