Today is my turn to share my Feature Post and Book Review for MURDER IN THE GALLOWCATE (Detective Lola Harris Mysteries Book #1) by Daniel Sellers on this Books ‘n’ All Promotions Blog Tour.
Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
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MEET THE DETECTIVE
Lola, a former hairdresser, has an uncanny ability to get people to trust her at their most vulnerable. She can read people just from their appearance, and to ask questions that get to the heart of the matter. If only she could avoid obnoxious Detective Sergeant Pierce, who seems hell-bent on sabotaging the case — and her career with it.
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Book Summary
MEET LOLA HARRIS, GLASGOW’S HOTTEST NEW DETECTIVE.
Detective Lola Harris returns from a miserable singleton’s holiday — an effort to get over an ex — only to find herself in charge of a high-stakes investigation.
One of Glasgow’s most influential movers and shakers has vanished without trace. Police have found a blood-soaked crime scene, but no body . . .
The body count is rising. A merciless serial killer is on the loose.
Lola uncovers a trail that leads back into the past, to a mysterious death on a remote island. It is on the island that she will find the key to an obsessive plan for revenge — one with murder at its heart.
Can she catch the killer before they strike again?
MURDER IN THE GALLOWGATE (Detective Lola Harris Mysteries Book #1) by Daniel Sellers is the start of a new British DI mystery series featuring a complex female Detective Inspector protagonist dealing with a conniving junior coworker and an ex-boyfriend who won’t go away all while trying to solve a high-profile case.
DI Lola Harris has returned from a singles holiday trying to get over her now ex-boyfriend only to be thrown immediately into a high-profile murder case. Lola is not happy to find DS Aiden Pierce will be working with her either, but the case is intriguing and as Lola investigates all the suspects the body count continues to grow.
I really like Lola and her character is very believable. All the secondary characters were well drawn, also. The plot took awhile to come together for me and was slow to pull me in, but once the pieces started to fall into place, I could not put the book down. There are plenty of twists and red herrings that had me guessing who was guilty incorrectly several times. The descriptions of Scotland and especially the islands added to my enjoyment of the story.
I enjoyed this mystery and I will be looking for the next book featuring Lola and her team.
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About the Author
Daniel Sellers grew up in Yorkshire. He has lived and worked in Liverpool, Glasgow, Dublin, and Vaasa in Finland. He now lives in Argyll with his partner and a wheaten terrier called Rasmus.
Daniel loves crime fiction, old and new, particularly the work of Margaret Murphy, Mo Hayder, Ruth Rendell, P D James and Josephine Tey. He is a huge (if not obsessive!) fan of Agatha Christie, collecting first editions and managing the “For the Love of Agatha” Twitter fan account (@FortheLoveofAg1).
Daniel’s detective thrillers are pacy and dark, with as much interest in why dunnit as who.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for HERO HATERS by Ken MacQueen 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 links, and a Kingsumo giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
He seeks redemption, others want revenge
Jake Ockham had a dream job, vetting nominees for the Sedgewick Medallion-the nation’s highest civilian award for heroism. His own scarred hands are an indelible reminder of the single mother he failed to pull from a raging house fire; her face haunts him still. Obligations drag him back to his hometown to edit the family newspaper but attempts to embrace small-town life, and the hot new doctor, are thwarted by unknown forces. The heroes Jake vetted go missing and he becomes the prime suspect in the disappearances. Aided by resourceful friends, Jake follows a twisted trail to the Dark Web, where a shadowy group is forcing the kidnapped medalists to perform deadly acts of valor to amuse twisted subscribers to its website. To save his heroes, Jake must swallow his fears and become one himself…or die in the attempt.
Genre: Adult Thriller Published by: The Wild Rose Press, Inc Publication Date: October 2022 Number of Pages: 366 ISBN: 9781509243853 (ISBN10: 1509243852)
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
HERO HATERS by Ken MacQueen is an exciting thriller that was impossible to put down! The Dark Web has a new pay per view site where a man who hates “heroes” makes kidnapped proclaimed heroes perform heroic acts for their lives. Make time for this one because it will keep you turning the pages. I believe this is the author’s first thriller and I hope it is not his last.
Jake Ockham works as a journalist on his family’s small-town paper and on the side investigates people nominated for the Sedgewick Medallion which is the nation’s highest civilian award for acts of heroism. Jake, himself was nominated many years previously, but never felt himself a hero because while he saved the son from a raging house fire, the mother perished right before his and the surviving daughter’s eyes.
As Jake tries to impress the new and beautiful doctor in his small town, he finds himself becoming not the hero, but the villain in the eyes of law enforcement as Medallion winners go missing. With the help of his college roommate, Erik who is a brilliant cyber investigator, the friends follow a twisted path on the Dark Web and Jake must face a shadow man while also facing his own fears in an attempt to become a hero once again or die trying.
Twisted, scary and dark and yet also completely believable. The back and forth between the different characters about what makes a hero and who should be considered one is very thought provoking. Jake is a flawed and yet likable main character, and the antagonists are truly evil. I loved this fast-paced plot, and it just became more and more intense as it reached the climax. Absolutely riveting thriller with great characters.
I highly recommend this thriller and cannot wait to see what Mr. MacQueen writes next!
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Excerpt
Prologue
Spokane, Washington, August 2019
Local hero Anderson Wise can’t remember the last time he paid for a drink at Sharkey’s.
Nor can he remember an embarrassing assortment of the women who selflessly shared their affection, post-Sharkey’s.
As for that last blurry night at the gin mill, he wished to hell he’d stayed home.
The bar’s owner, Sharon Key, hence Sharkey’s, took joy in chumming the waters on Wise’s behalf for a regular catch of what she called “Hero Worshippers.”
She saw getting him laid as partial repayment for saving her eleven-year-old grandson Toby’s life some eighteen months back.
A disaffected dad, high on crystal meth, stormed into Toby’s classroom to take issue with his kid’s latest report card. He showed his displeasure by shot-gunning the teacher, then reloaded and asked all A-students to identify themselves. Being A-students, they dutifully raised their hands, Toby among them.
As the high-as-a-kite shooter herded the high achievers to the front of the class, Wise, the school custodian, charged into the room armed with a multipurpose dry-chemical fire extinguisher. He blasted the shooter with a white cloud of monoammonium phosphate, to minimal effect, then slammed the gun out of his hands. It discharged into the floor sending several pellets into Wise’s left foot. Thoroughly pissed, Wise ended the drama by pile-driving the extinguisher into the shooter’s face.
Sharon Key, a widow in her early sixties, subsequently replaced the beer signs and dart board with blow-ups of the laudatory press Wise earned during the tragic aftermath. The front of the next day’s local paper held pride of place. It carried a photo of Wise, extinguisher in hand, under the headline: Greater Tragedy Averted as Hero Janitor Extinguishes Threat. The story contained a pull quote in large font which Wise came to regret: “ ‘It’s a versatile extinguisher,’ the modest 30-year-old explained, ‘good for class A, B and C fires—and meth-heads’.”
Said famous extinguisher now guards the top-shelf booze behind Sharkey’s oak-and-brass bar.
New stories were added to Sharkey’s wall five months back after Wise was awarded, with much publicity, the Sedgewick Trust Sacrifice Medallion— one of the most prestigious recognitions of heroism that American civilians can receive.
Wise’s liver and a lower part of his anatomy took a renewed pounding in the weeks thereafter. So much so he declared a moratorium on visits to Sharkey’s for reasons of self-preservation.
He was back in the saddle a month now, but his attendance was spotty. “This hero stuff,” he confided to Key one night, while slumped in his chair. “Maybe it’s too much of a good thing?”
“Ya think?” Key muttered as she took inventory of that night’s limited offerings.
It wasn’t just the women. Men often bought him drinks too, happy to bask in the reflected glory of a proven manly man.
Two weeks ago, some weedy academic from back east interviewed him at Sharkey’s and staked him to an alcohol-fueled dinner at the city’s best chop house. The brainy one expected Wise to opine on such things as “neo-Darwinian rules for altruism.”
Asked him if he’d been motivated by “a kinship bond” with anyone in the room?
Er, no.
Wondered if Wise knew that a disproportionate number of risk takers are working-class males?
Nope, sorry.
And had he calculated in the moment that a heroic display of “good genes” would make him a desirable mating partner?
Cripes. Really?
“Don’t know what I was thinking,” Wise said, swirling a glass of something called Amarone, a wine so amazing angels must have crushed the grapes with their tiny, perfect feet. “Heard a gun blast, grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall. Saw the dead teacher, all those kids, and a nut with a shotgun. Did what anybody would do. I spent three years in the army after high school, mostly in the motor pool. Much as I hated basic training, maybe some of it stuck. Who knows?”
The academic gave a condescending smile and called for the bill, his hypothesis apparently confirmed.
Wise fled to the restaurant toilet and took notes on the back of his pay slip. Back home, he Googled the hell out of studies on “extreme altruist stimuli,” on “empirical perspectives on the duty to rescue,” and after many false starts, on theories of “Byronic and Lilithian Heroes.”
He kinda got the concept of “desirable mating partner”, but he was pretty sure his dick didn’t lead him into that classroom. Did it?
While not a reflective guy, Wise had to admit it was creepy to reap the fleshy benefits of his few seconds of glory while his dreams were haunted by visions of teacher Adah Summerhill slumped over her desk, blood pooled beneath her. So much blood. With the shooter sprawled unconscious, Wise gently lifted Adah’s head.
She had no pulse and her eyes, once so vibrant and expressive, were as empty as an open grave. She’d always been nice, and totally out of his league.
So, here he was, back at Sharkey’s, mind made up.
Key arrived at his “courting table” and set down his Jack and ginger ale.
“Gave my notice at the school,” he told her. “Getting outta here for a while. Got that Sedgewick money to spend. Someplace they don’t know me. Mexico, maybe.
Or Costa Rica.”
Key patted his hand. “Knew this was coming, Andy.
You banged every eligible female in town, pretty much.
And some who shoulda been out of bounds. I’m amazed the Tourist Bureau doesn’t list you as a top-ten attraction, up there with the botanical gardens.”
“All I want, Shar, is to be liked for me, not for something I did because I happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. Or is that the other way ’round?”
“Hey, you’re a good-looking guy. Still got that shaggy blond baseball player thing going for ya.
Might’ve taken a run at you myself if my hips weren’t shot.” She patted his cheek. “Made you blush. Now don’t turn into a beach bum down there. Always thought you aimed too low, mopping floors and washing windows for the school board. Time to stretch—”
She craned her neck toward the door after it opened with a bang. “My, my, here’s one for the road. She was in earlier, asking after you.” Key aimed a nod at the door and whispered, “Don’t strain anything.” And headed to the bar.
Wise looked up and…sweet Jesus.
Early twenties, he guessed. His eyes roamed from strappy sandals, up a long expanse of tanned bare legs to a glittering silver dress that started perilously high-thigh and ended well below exposed shoulders. The ripe promise of youth was on full display, like she’d dipped her bounteous curves in liquid lamé.
She drew every eye in the place as she undulated to his table. Full red lips, high cheekbones, chestnut hair piled high. Up close now, her gimlet eyes were at once innocent and knowing, like a debauched choirgirl.
“Hi, hero.” Her voice was low and sultry, as he knew it would be. She remained on her feet, hands on the table, leaning low to full effect. “When you finish that drink, I really want to see your medal.”
**** He remembered her mixing drinks back at his apartment while he retrieved his medallion from the sock drawer in his bedroom. He remembered her running a sensuous thumb over the bas-relief portrait of Philip Sedgewick as she read aloud the inscription: “The most sublime act is to set another before you.”
That wondrous voice lingering over “sublime act,”
like it was lifted from the Kama Sutra.
And like too many times, post-Sharkey’s, damned if he could remember her name—that evil bitch. He awoke, bouncing in the back of a van, hands and legs cuffed to rings set in the floor. A broken-glass headache served notice of every bump in the road.
Another lost night at Sharkey’s.
Wise had a dreadful feeling he’d never be back.
Chapter One Aberdeen, Washington, July, one month earlier Jake Ockham was one kilometer in, one kilometer to go and already in a world of pain. Lungs, legs and palms, always the damned palms, screaming enough already.
He’d whaled away on his Concept II rowing machine for thirty minutes, building up to this. Stripped off the sweatshirt after ten minutes, the t-shirt after twenty-five. Down now to running shoes and gym shorts, his torso gleaming with sweat despite the morning chill.
He’d rested after a thirty-minute warm-up to gulp water and to consider the need to reinforce the pilings under the creaky wooden deck before it dumped him and the ergometer into the Wishkah River below. Might leave it in the river mud if it came to that.
Full race mode now, one kilometer in, another to go.
The erg’s computer showed the need to pick up the pace to break the six-minute barrier, something he’d regularly shattered a decade ago during his university rowing days.
Thrust with the legs, throw back the shoulders, arms ripping back the handle. Return to the catch and repeat.
Five hundred meters to go. Eyes fixed on a duck touching down on the river, looking anywhere but the screen.
Two hundred and fifty meters. Faster. Harder. Don’t lose the technique.
Fifty meters. You can do this.
A final piston thrust of legs, shoulders, arms and…six minutes, thirteen seconds.
“Fuck!” His roar startled the duck into flight.
He slumped over the machine, gasping for air, ripping at the Velcro tabs of his gloves, throwing them on the deck in disgust. Hated those damned gloves, so essential these days.
Head bowed, he heard the cabin’s door rasp open.
“Such language.” Clara Nufeld, his aunt, and technically his boss as publisher of the Grays Harbor Independent, leaned against the doorframe.
He didn’t look up. “Don’t bother knocking. Make yourself at home.”
“I did, and I am. Got a couple of things to show you.
Right up your alley. Might be pieces for next week’s issue.”
She was lean and tall, in tight jeans and a faded Nirvana sweatshirt, her spiked white hair cut short. At sixty-four, she still turned heads. Jake knew her age to the day, Clara being his mother’s identical twin. Connie, his late mother, fell to breast cancer at age forty-five.
So much of his mother in Clara. So much that when Jake finished high school and rode his rowing scholarship east to Pittsburgh’s Carnegie Mellon University, his father, Roger Ockham, moved his accounting business to Bend, Oregon. Said it was for the golfing, but Jake suspected the sight of his late wife’s twin was a constant reminder of his loss.
Connie and Clara, fresh out of university, worked for their father at the Independent, Clara on the advertising side, Connie as a reporter.
They took the helm of the paper after Derwin Nufeld—their dad, Jake’s grandfather—collapsed and died mid-way through crafting a fiery editorial on a mule-headed decision to pull The Catcher in the Rye from the high school library.
After Connie’s death, Clara did double duty as editor and publisher until she succeeded six months ago in luring Jake home to Washington State from Pittsburgh to take over as editor-in-chief.
This five-room stilt home, Clara’s former cottage on the tidal Wishkah, was his signing bonus.
One of the dwindling numbers of real estate ads in the Independent would describe the cabin something like: “A cozy oasis on the Wishkah, surrounded by nature and just minutes from the city. Fish from your deck while contemplating the possibilities for this prime riverfront property. A bit of TLC gets you a rustic getaway while you make plans for your dream home.”
After years in urban Pittsburgh, he awoke now to bird chatter and the sights and scents of the moody, muddy Wishkah—its current pulled, as he was pulled, to the infinite Pacific.
Jake gathered his shirts and gloves and cringed at a sniff-test of his underarms. “I’ll keep my distance.” He waved Clara inside. “What’s up my alley?”
She waved two dummy pages, the ads already laid out, plenty of blank space for him and his skeleton staff to fill with stories and photos.
Jake was still adjusting to small-town journalism, covering at least one earnest service club luncheon every week, puffy profiles of local businesses, check presentations, city council and school board meetings.
And jamming in as many names as possible. He’d done some summer reporting for the weekly during his high school years, but rowing had occupied most of his time.
Clara handed off a page proof with a boxed advert already laid out. “A new doctor is taking over old Doc Wilson’s practice, thank God. I swear the last medical journal that old man read was on the efficacy of leeches and bloodletting.”
Jake nodded. Worth a story for sure. A few words from Wilson about passing the scalpel to a new generation, then focus on Dr. Christina Doctorow. No hardship there.
The ad for her family practice included her photo.
Rather than the cliché white coat and stethoscope she wore hiking shorts and a flannel shirt with rolled sleeves, thick dark hair in a ponytail, a daypack hanging off a shoulder. A husky at her side gazed up adoringly.
Smart dog.
Jake put her at early thirties, his age more or less. He nodded approval. “Sporty. A fine addition to the Grays Harbor gene pool.”
“The woman’s a firecracker. Spent ten minutes haggling down the price. I finally caved. Said I’ll bump this up to a half-page, but you owe me a free checkup.”
“Seriously?”
“What she said, too. Also asked ‘Is that ethical?’ I said, ‘darling, I’m in advertising. You want ethics, deal with my nephew on the editorial side.’ “
Jake laughed. “Pretty good at bloodletting herself.
What else you got?”
“This is so up your alley.” She handed him a classified ad page-proof. “You being an expert.”
Jake slumped onto a kitchen chair. “On what?”
She tapped a one-column boxed ad in the lower left, “Heroes.”
“Not hardly.”
He looked closer and reared back. The heading read: “For Sale. Rare Sedgewick Sacrifice Medallion. $100 OBO.”
There was a thumbnail photo of the medal’s obverse, showing the craggy face of Philip Sedgewick, a leading member of the long-dead school of industrialist robber barons. He’d amassed a fortune in textile mills, newspapers, and exploitive labor practices. Awash in cash he came to philanthropy late in life. Like others in this elite group—Carnegie, Mellon, Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, et al—their names and reputation-burnishing generosity live beyond the grave.
Sedgewick, at his wife’s urging, chose to celebrate extraordinary acts of heroism. He used eight of his many millions—an enormous sum in 1901—to endow a family trust to award exceptional heroism with the Sacrifice Medallion and needs-based financial assistance. Over the past one hundred twenty years, the trust awarded some eleven thousand medallions, an inspiring legacy of courage, and yes, sacrifice.
The grainy photo in the classified ad was too small to read the inscription under Sedgewick’s stern visage, but Jake knew it well. It was a quotation by the English poet William Blake: “The most sublime act is to set another before you.”
Below the photo was a post office box address, and “mail inquiries only.”
Jake shook his head. “This is nuts. The price is insanely low, insulting really. The medallions are kinda priceless.”
“I wondered about that,” Clara said. “The ad cost fifty dollars so not much of a profit.”
“The rare few that get to auction can fetch in the thousands. We try to buy them back, prefer that to having them land up in the hands of the undeserving.”
Clara cocked an eyebrow. “We?”
Jake shrugged. “I still do the occasional freelance investigations for Sedgewick. The thing is, there’s never a good reason to sell these. Either the recipient is dead broke, or dead without relatives to inherit it. Or it’s stolen.”
“Or,” Clara said, resting a hand on Jake’s shoulder, “the hero feels undeserving.”
He flinched. “Was there a photo of the medal’s back? It’d have the recipient’s name and the reason it was awarded.”
“Don’t even know who placed the ad. Arrived in the mail: a photo, the ad copy, and a fifty-dollar bill. No return address but the post office box.”
“Pull the ad, Clara. I’ll buy it and return the money.
There’s a story here, something’s not right.”
Clara toyed with her car keys. “I feel bad sometimes, guilting you back. Do you miss it, your old life back in Pittsburgh?”
His pause was barely discernable. “Great to be back in the old hometown.”
“Great to earn half the salary you did in the big city?
Great to prop up the family business? Great to be stuck with your old aunt?”
“Aunt doesn’t cover it. I was twelve when Mom passed. You stepped up for Dad and me.”
She looked like she was about to say something, then shook her head and flashed an enigmatic smile. “A topic for another day. Gotta run.”
She leaned across the table, took his hands in hers, running her thumbs lightly over his scarred palms. She raised his hands to her lips for a kiss, then turned for the door.
Excerpt from Hero Haters by Ken MacQueen. Copyright 2022 by Ken MacQueen. Reproduced with permission from Ken MacQueen. All rights reserved.
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Author Bio
Before turning to fiction, Ken MacQueen spent 15 years as Vancouver bureau chief for Maclean’s, Canada’s newsmagazine, winning multiple National Magazine Awards and nominations. He traveled the world writing features and breaking news for the magazine, and previously for two national news agencies. Naturally, he had to make Jake Ockham, his hero, a reporter, albeit a reluctant one. MacQueen also covered nine Olympic Games and drew Jake’s athletic prowess from tracking elite rowers in training and on podiums in Athens, Beijing and London. He and his wife divide their time between Vancouver, and British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast.
When a cold case in Texas leads to a sinister string of disappearances, a newcomer to the small town helps a detective piece together the clues in this new romantic thriller from New York Times bestselling author Laura Griffin.
Corporate lawyer Ava Burch has had enough of the big city and the daily grind. She grew up with her father, who raised search-and-rescue dogs, in rural Texas and has moved to the small town of Cuervo to spend time in the dry, rugged wilderness near Big Bend National Park. When she and her dog, Huck, discover an abandoned campsite on a volunteer search-and-rescue mission, she’s perplexed, but she carefully photographs it all the same.
All Grant Wycoff can see when he looks at Ava is a city slicker—with her designer jeans and shiny car—who has no business on a serious team made of seasoned outdoorsmen and retired cops. But when she tells him of her findings on the trail, he sees there’s more to her than meets the eye.
Ava’s discovery reminds Grant of the unsolved case of a young woman who went missing two years ago. As they look into the campsite further, another woman disappears under odd circumstances. With time running out, Ava and Grant must work against the brutal heat from both the Texas sun and their own electric chemistry to solve the case.
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Elise’s Thoughts
Vanishing Hour by Laura Griffin shows why she is the master of suspenseful romance. This plot has cold cases, search and rescue missions, and a loveable black lab.
Corporate lawyer Ava Burch has had enough of the big city and the daily grind. She grew up with her father, who raised search-and-rescue dogs, in rural Texas and has moved to the small town of Cuervo to spend time in the dry, rugged wilderness near Big Bend National Park. She is also a volunteer working search and rescue with her dog Huck. On a SAR mission, Ava becomes aware that women are missing annually from the hostile desert environment around the town and decides to pursue her own investigation, finding out that there are three missing women, all unsolved cold cases.
Grant Wycoff deputy sheriff and lead investigator reluctantly is paired with Ava since she and Huck can lead him to where there is evidence of the missing women. He does not want her working his case because she is a civilian and might endanger herself. The two of them don’t see eye to eye about the case. They butt heads digging their boot heels in to see who’s stronger willed. Grant sees her as a city slicker, wearing designer jeans and a driving a shiny new car. He thinks she has no business on a serious team made of seasoned outdoorsmen and retired cops. She is too stubborn to listen to him and eventually shows him her worth. In addition, they both realize there is chemistry between them.
This plot has it all: a gripping mystery, a sizzling romance, and plenty of action. It will keep readers on the edge of their seats with plenty of red herrings placed strategically throughout the story along with real clues.
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Author Interview
Elise Cooper: Will this be a series and why a rescue dog?
Laura Griffin: I don’t have plans to make it a series, although the secondary characters have been teed up for more. I might come back to them, even years later. I became a dog owner about ten years ago. My dog is a Weimaraner. We adopted this sweet dog. I did some research for a previous book I wrote, Alpha Crew Dogs, about bomb sniffing dogs. From there I learned about search and rescue dogs. I really wanted to write a story about this type of dog.
EC: What about Huck, the dog?
LG: I started the story with writing about Huck. I wanted to make him an intricate part of the story. Huck is a black lab because I read a book about a park ranger who does search and rescue work. Labs are smart, sweet, good with people, can be playful, and trainable. Yet, I did not write Huck as having the personality as a human. But Huck is so intelligent with very powerful smelling abilities and great instinct. Huck was seen as a danger to the bad guys who tried to eliminate him. Just as with military dogs, the enemy knows they are in trouble because the dog can find ammunition, guns, and bodies. Huck became a threat.
EC: How would you describe Ava?
LG: Determined, smart, and underestimated. She is a woman who grew up in a man’s world of law enforcement. Her dad was a game warden, so she had experience with law enforcement although she is a civilian. She can be overly sensitive
EC: What about the relationship?
LG: Since her dad was in law enforcement she reflects on if she wants a relationship with someone in that profession. The job can be wearing on people, her dad was always working, many times preoccupied by the grim facts of his work, and her mom had to raise the children by herself. This caused a conflict between herself and Grant because he is a workaholic. Ava can read people and is guarded.
EC: How would you describe Grant?
LG: His home and family are important to him. He is protective, wants his town to be a better place, very dedicated and committed. He is sweet with a big heart, at times condescending, has a big ego, and stubborn.
EC: What role did the setting play?
LG: It takes place in West Texas, which is very remote. The town is in transition, going from a little town to a tourist town with more people. There is a lot of outdoor activities in the plot including, climbing, hiking, rock climbing, a dude ranch, and shooting a crossbow. During Covid a lot of people shifted to the National Parks. Many times, they did not understand all the dangers of these types of settings. For example, people don’t take water or the correct supplies. They are a little bit careless with their safety considering the natural dangers, which is why Ava and Huck helped to rescue people who got themselves in trouble. I learned about rock climbing when I did the research for Stone Cold Heart.
EC: Next book?
LG: It is the next book in the “Texas Murder Files Series” and titled Deep Tide. Leyla is the heroine, who runs the coffee shop. It will be out in the spring. Leyla finds one of her employees murdered in the alley behind her coffee shop. The hero is Sean Moran, who is on an undercover mission. Together he and Leyla are trying to solve who murdered her employee and why.
Paige and her joyful Aunt Glo have learned that the home they inherited comes with a magical library. They put together a book club group of loveable kooks to explore the magic. They’ve recovered from their first book journey, and they all agree on their next book which takes place on a cruise ship bound for Hawaii. Problem is, they were so excited about the cruising idea that they didn’t read the entire blurb on the back of the book. (“It was entirely too long,” explains Zell.)
Once on the ship, they meet a charming and likeable man who blends seamlessly into their motley group. Too bad they don’t know why he’s so scarce during the day but shows up to join them every evening for dinner, drinks, and a show. When a dead body shows up on board, their new friend is labeled a suspect. Can they help him out by finding the real murderer? Or is he the real murderer?
The book club will need to solve the case to get off the ship, out of the book, and back to their home.
VAMPIRES AND VILLIANS (Magical Mystery Book Club #2) by Elizabeth Pantley is another delightful Magical Mystery Book Club cozy murder mystery read. The entire group is back with the addition of a grumpy octogenarian Maximillian, do not call me Max, call me Million. This book is easily read as a standalone, but you will want to read the first just because this series is just so entertaining.
Paige, Glo and the group travel to a Hawaiian island-hopping cruise ship for their cozy mystery book excursion. This cruise at first appears normal, but Frank can once again talk, so they know it is a paranormal story and they soon discover they are on a cruise with vampire entertainers and passengers included. Million becomes friends with Frank, a vampire entertainer, who served with Million during WWII and the group all are enamored with him.
When Frank is set up for the murder of a human cruise photographer, the book club must work together to find the real killer to solve the murder mystery and get the group back home.
I love Paige and all the quirky members of the Magical Mystery Book Club! With this second book, the characters are becoming even more lovable, and I am starting to worry that I may loose one of them, not just the new character that makes the eighth at the table to a future new book. The cozy mystery plot is well written with red herrings and surprising plot twists which are woven seamlessly into the overall book club world. I am looking forward to the Magical Mystery Book Club’s next adventure.
I highly recommend this fun and well-crafted cozy mystery book and series!
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Author Bio
Elizabeth Pantley says that writing her Mystery and Magic book series is the most fun she’s ever had at work. Fans of the series say her joy is evident through the engaging stories she tells. Elizabeth is also the international bestselling author of The No-Cry Sleep Solution and twelve other books for parents. Her books have been published in over twenty languages. She lives in the Pacific Northwest, a beautiful inspiration for her enchanted worlds.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE COUNTERFEITWIFE (A Revolutionary War Mystery Book #2) by Mally Becker 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. Good luck on the giveaway and enjoy!
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Book Description
Philadelphia, June 1780. George Washington’s two least likely spies return, masquerading as husband and wife as they search for traitors in Philadelphia.
Months have passed since young widow Becca Parcell and former printer Daniel Alloway foiled a plot that threatened the new nation. But independence is still a distant dream, and General Washington can’t afford more unrest, not with food prices rising daily and the value of money falling just as fast.
At the General’s request, Becca and Daniel travel to Philadelphia to track down traitors who are flooding the city with counterfeit money. Searching for clues, Becca befriends the wealthiest women in town, the members of the Ladies Association of Philadelphia, while Daniel seeks information from the city’s printers.
But their straightforward mission quickly grows personal and deadly as a half-remembered woman from Becca’s childhood is arrested for murdering one of the suspected counterfeiters.
With time running out – and their faux marriage breaking apart – Becca and Daniel find themselves searching for a hate-driven villain who’s ready to kill again.
Genre: Historical Mystery Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: September 2022 Number of Pages: 300 ISBN: 9781685121587 Series: A Revolutionary War Mystery
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
THE COUNTERFEIT WIFE (A Revolutionary War Mystery Book #2) by Mally Becker is the second Revolutionary War era historical mystery featuring Rebecca Parcell and Daniel Alloway as spies assisting General George Washington. This book can easily be read as a standalone, but the first book, TheTurncoats Widow introduces this engaging pair of spies and is an exciting mystery also.
Rebecca Parcell and Daniel Alloway are once again assisting General Washington and Alexander Hamilton as they now play a married couple in search of a band of counterfeiters flooding the new economy in Philadelphia with bad currency that could destabilize the new nation. While they suspect the English, they need proof. As they investigate, one of their main suspects ends up dead on the docks and the mother Rebecca thought dead for years, is accused of the murder.
Rebecca and Daniel find themselves accused of crimes and until they can discover the murderer, they could end up in prison or dead.
I enjoyed this well researched and intricately plotted second mystery in this series. Rebecca and Daniel are brought to life in this period, and I was just as engrossed in their story in this mystery as the first. The plot was full of twists and red herrings, but the mystery was also character driven involving many of the issues of the day. An interesting historical inclusion in the plot was the description of inoculation for smallpox and that Washington wanted his troops inoculated.
I recommend this historical mystery book and series.
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Excerpt
Heat rose from Rebecca Parcell’s chest, climbed her neck, and stamped a flush on her cheeks. She knew what would happen next. It was time for the toasts.
“Steady now,” Daniel Alloway whispered. They stood alone in a corner of the crowded ballroom. His good hand brushed hers for reassurance. His other hand hung at his side, deadened by the injury he’d incurred escaping from a British prison ship a year ago.
Becca scanned the room to assure herself that no one watched them. Even his light touch was frowned upon by polite society, but it brought her warmth and comfort.
Their host rapped an ornate silver fork against his crystal goblet again and waited for the magpie chatter of gossip to quiet. He stood by the large fireplace, his feet planted wide as if he were standing on the deck of one of his ships. Mr. Thaddeus Barnes was the wealthiest merchant in Philadelphia, which meant, she knew, that he was one of the richest men in all of North America.
Becca had rarely seen luxury like this, not even last winter in New York City. The ceiling dripped curved garlands of flowers carved of plaster. Blue and white vases from China rested on the carved marble mantel. Cherry wood tables hailed from France, and the glass chandelier from Venice.
“I’d be much more comfortable with a bow in my hand,” Becca murmured. “Or a knife. A knife would do.”
“You’d rather hunt in Morristown than here?” Daniel smiled, his green eyes filled with amusement. The gaunt, haunted look he wore when she met him last winter was gone. But his features still seemed to be carved from stone, all hard angles and shadows. Except when he smiled at her like this.
Despite being tall, Becca had to tilt her chin up to see eye-to-eye with Daniel. “Hunting here will do.” she said, sounding more prim than she intended, and Daniel laughed. “Even this type of hunting.”
They were in Philadelphia, searching for the counterfeiters flooding the colony with fake money. They were the obvious, though unconventional, pair for the job, General Washington had said when he assigned them. Daniel because he was a former printer with the skills to evaluate ink and paper and Becca for her talent with numbers, accounts, and codes, which had already served the general well.
The clink-clink of metal on glass rang through the air again, and Mr. Barnes’s guests finally quieted. “A toast,” he called, beginning the first of the three he would raise to Becca and Daniel. It was the same at each of the parties held in their honor these past few weeks. Always three. Becca dreaded the third. “To independence.”
Becca lifted her goblet and sipped to a chorus of “huzzahs.” One, she counted to herself, because counting was soothing but not soothing enough for what was to come.
When the cheers faded, Mr. Barnes raised his glass again. The wine-filled cup glimmered red beneath the crystal candelabras. “To General Washington.”
“Huzzah!” The ballroom cheered again. Two, Becca counted.
She should be grateful to Mr. Barnes, not gritting her teeth over his toasts. He had opened his home to them at the Washingtons’s request, and he was introducing them to the finest families in Philadelphia, who were happy to welcome two friends of General and Lady Washington.
At least that much was true. Since last February, she and Daniel had become regular visitors to the Washingtons’ residence in Morristown after uncovering a plot that threatened the new nation.
Another round of cheers. Some guests made the mistake of lowering their glasses.
“And…” Mr. Barnes crowed.
A man with ginger-colored hair lounging by the doorway sighed loudly, catching her eye.
Becca couldn’t have agreed more.
The stranger gave her a slow, lazy smile. His expression was almost intimate, as if he were trying to draw her in. She turned away quickly.
“Finally…” Mr. Barnes added.
Becca took a deep breath, inhaling the warm scent of beeswax candles.
“…let us wish the newlyweds a joyous and productive marriage.” Mr. Barnes, a long-time widower, winked at Daniel. “May your hearts ever be at each other’s service.”
The cream of Philadelphia society turned in unison to Becca and Daniel.
She dropped her gaze to avoid the stares.
“A delicate flower, you are,” Daniel whispered without moving his lips.
She banged his ribs with her elbow and heard a satisfying oomph.
Anyone watching her redden and look away at the mention of their marriage might indeed take it that she was a shy, delicate flower. This was false.
She was not shy.
She was not delicate.
And, more to the point, she and Daniel were not married.
Mr. Barnes nodded to a double-chinned musician in the corner dressed in maroon breeches and a matching silk coat. At the signal, he tucked his violin into his neck, lifted a bow, and attacked his instrument. Two men laughed at something a third said. A few women formed a group and chatted, and the high-ceilinged room filled again with noise.
Barnes knew the reason they were in Philadelphia. General Washington had trusted him with that information. But their host believed that Becca and Daniel were wed. This way, Mr. Barnes could rightfully claim to be as outraged as everyone else if their deceit came to light.
Memory pulled Becca back to a dinner with the Washingtons in Morristown. “Perhaps this is unwise.” The general voiced a rare doubt after they agreed to come to Philadelphia. “You are unmarried and unchaperoned. It is scandalous. Society will close ranks against you. You’ll learn nothing.”
Lady Washington had taken a small sip of sherry. Her blue eyes lit with humor. “Then they must appear to be married while maintaining all the proprieties.”
The general made a choking sound that Becca and Daniel decided later was laughter. And so they’d agreed to play the part of a newly married couple, with Daniel looking for a new business opportunity in Philadelphia. It was a brazen plan but might just succeed.
Becca startled. The ginger-haired gentleman suddenly stood before her.
He extended a silk-clad leg and bowed, then rose, displaying the same secret smile that made her uncomfortable minutes ago. His nose was straight, his eyelashes pale against close-set blue eyes. Perhaps his chin was a bit heavy, his mouth a bit small. His features were not memorable, but something about him commanded attention.
It wasn’t just his shock of red hair combed back neatly and tied low along the back of his neck, nor the well-made clothes of ivory silk and gold embroidery. Everyone in the room bore similar signs of wealth. It was the confidence with which he moved, the sense that his regard flattered anyone upon whom it was bestowed.
“You’ve kept her from me, Alloway. I thought I knew all the beautiful women in Philadelphia.” His eyes locked on Becca’s.
She stiffened. It took discipline not to raise her hand and double check that the lace covering the top of her breasts was in place. He made her feel naked.
Daniel stiffened, too. “Mrs. Alloway, may I introduce Mr. Edmund Taylor, another merchant here in Philadelphia.”
Taylor’s light eyebrows shot up in mock distress. “Just another merchant? One of the most successful in the colonies, despite the war.” His gaze dropped to Daniel’s injured hand.
“And is your wife here, too?” Daniel bit down on the words, “your wife.”
Irritation crossed Taylor’s face so quickly Becca thought she imagined it. “My dear,” he called loudly.
A woman standing near the fireplace tensed, then moved toward them with the elegance of a swan. Her hair was honey blond, her skin unblemished, and her eyes a liquid blue. She stopped before them, wearing a tentative smile.
“I’m honored to present my wife, Charlotte Taylor.” He completed the introductions.
“It is a pleasure. I hope you enjoy our city.” Her voice was breathy and slow. There was a stillness about her, as if she had her own secrets to guard.
“I am enjoying it.” From downstairs, Becca heard the butler’s placating voice, then a woman’s shrill, demanding response.
Moments later, Mr. Barnes’s butler, Eli, slipped into the room.
Heads turned to the butler with a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise.
He whispered to Mr. Barnes, who nodded.
Then Eli strode toward them. He cupped his hand over his mouth and leaned toward Mr. Taylor.
“Begging your pardon, sir. There’s a woman at the front door. She says she’s yours, and that she must see you now.”
Becca couldn’t help but overhear. She says she’s yours. The woman at the door must be enslaved. Neither her dead husband nor father had owned slaves. But even she knew that enslaved people did not enter by the front door.
Color leeched from Taylor’s face.
“I will see her.” Mrs. Taylor swept from the room without waiting for her husband’s response.
“How do you find Philadelphia, Mrs. Alloway? Your husband says that this is your first visit,” another guest, who had turned to them at the servant’s approach, asked to mask the embarrassment of the moment.
When Becca didn’t answer, Daniel elbowed her gently. “Yes, Mrs. Alloway. How do you find Philadelphia?”
She really must do a better job responding to her married name. “People have been kind here. I hardly expected it.”
Mr. Barnes joined them, interrupting, “How goes your business, Taylor?”
“We don’t want to bore the ladies.” Taylor glanced at Becca.
“Please, don’t stop on my account. I comprehend so little, but hearing you speak of business never bores me.” Becca would have fluttered her eyelashes if she were the sort of woman who could manage it without appearing to have caught a speck of dirt in her eye.
She pasted a pleasant far-away expression on her face. Men spoke of business and politics as if she couldn’t understand a word, as if she didn’t listen and pass anything of interest back to General Washington. She took a small sip of the straw-colored dry sherry.
“Are you paying your investors in silver or paper these days?” Barnes asked.
Becca admired his playacting. Daniel and their host had rehearsed their lines. They asked the same questions at each party.
Taylor glared. “Sterling, of course. What are you accusing me of?”
Becca slowly lowered her glass. Taylor was the first to interpret the query as an accusation. An accusation of what? Having less silver than a man of his stature should? Or of passing along fake dollar notes?
Barnes nodded to Taylor. “No offense intended. I started seeing badly printed dollar notes again this spring. Merely asking whether you’re being cautious about paper dollars these days, given the situation.”
Taylor nodded curtly.
By now, five men had formed a tight ring as if warming themselves round a campfire. Becca stood just outside their circle.
Another of the merchants stepped up. “I thought I was the only one who noticed the forgeries.”
Daniel feigned surprise. “Has that been a problem here?”
“The British—damn them. They’re printing false money and spreading it as fast as they can,” one of the men said.
“There are worse problems, surely,” Daniel said.
“Ah, a young man who believes war is only about battles,” another guest drawled with feigned pity.
The others chuckled.
“If not winning battles, then what?” Daniel smiled, but the skin around his eyes tightened. He’s offended by the condescending tone, Becca thought.
“The counterfeits will set this country ablaze.” Barnes sputtered. “There have been food riots already. The poor are starving, and they can’t afford bread. How soon until people seek another king, another tyrant who swears that only he can save them?”
“When no one can tell whether money is real, the price of bread goes up, and everyone—everyone—turns against the government,” another man added. He looked to the group for support.
Becca studied them, shaken. She had thought of this trip as a lark, a way to spend more time with Daniel while unraveling a simple puzzle for General Washington.
Daniel bowed to Mr. Barnes. “It does sound terrible. My apologies.” He turned to Taylor. “And what do you think of all this, sir?”
Taylor shrugged. “Mr. Barnes is right. The economy is undone. I’d look to the traitors’ wives first. I wouldn’t put counterfeiting past them.”
“Who are the traitors’ wives?” Becca asked, catching Taylor’s attempt at redirection.
The men turned to her in surprise.
Oh bullocks. “Traitors? I don’t see any traitors at this party. Mr. Barnes wouldn’t allow it.” There. That sounded more like the simple, oblivious young woman they expected her to be.
Taylor and the others chuckled indulgently. “Nothing for you to worry about, Mrs. Alloway. Our apologies.”
“Do you know something specifically about these women, or are you trading in rumors?” Daniel’s voice was soft, but the challenge was clear. Neither he nor Becca cared for baseless rumors, not after gossip had almost ruined her life last winter.
“My husband’s passions sometimes lead him astray.” Charlotte Taylor had returned. “There are times that he causes harm when it is least intended.”
The husband and wife stared at each other from across the small circle of guests. He looked away first.
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Author Bio
Mally Becker combines her love of history and crime fiction in mysteries that feature strong, independent heroines. She is the Agatha Award-nominated author of The Turncoat’s Widow, which Kirkus Reviews called, “A compelling tale… with charming main characters.” Her first novel was also named a Silver Falchion finalist and a CIBA “Mystery & Mayhem” finalist.
A member of the board of MWA-NY, Mally was an attorney until becoming a full-time writer and an instructor at The Writers Circle Workshops. She is also a member of Sisters in Crime and the Historical Novel Society. Mally and her husband live in New Jersey, where they raised their wonderful son and spend as much time as they can hiking and kayaking.
Hiding her own dark past in plain sight, a TV reporter is determined to uncover the truth behind a gruesome murder decades after the investigation was abandoned. But TWENTY YEARS LATER, to understand the present, you need to listen to the past…
Avery Mason, host of American Events, knows the subjects that grab a TV audience’s attention. Her latest story—a murder mystery laced with kinky sex, tragedy, and betrayal—is guaranteed to be ratings gold. New DNA technology has allowed the New York medical examiner’s office to make its first successful identification of a 9/11 victim in years. The twist: the victim, Victoria Ford, had been accused of the gruesome murder of her married lover. In a chilling last phone call to her sister, Victoria begged her to prove her innocence.
Emma Kind has waited twenty years to put her sister to rest, but closure won’t be complete until she can clear Victoria’s name. Alone she’s had no luck, but she’s convinced that Avery’s connections and fame will help. Avery, hoping to negotiate a more lucrative network contract, goes into investigative overdrive. Victoria had been having an affair with a successful novelist, found hanging from the balcony of his Catskills mansion. The rope, the bedroom, and the entire crime scene was covered in Victoria’s DNA.
But the twisted puzzle of Victoria’s private life just the beginning. And what Avery doesn’t realize is that there are other players in the game who are interested in Avery’s own secret past—one she has kept hidden from both the network executives and her television audience. A secret she thought was dead and buried . . .
Accused of a brutal murder, Victoria Ford made a final chilling call from the North Tower on the morning of 9/11. Twenty years ago, no one listened. Today, you will.
TWENTY YEARS LATER by Charlie Donlea is an exciting and intricately plotted mystery/thriller. A top-rated television news show host is on the hunt for her next big story in NYC, even as she has her own secret reasons for being there.
Avery Mason is looking for a story to grab her TV audience’s attention and keep her top rating as host of American Events. She looks into the first discovery of an individual’s identity from a new DNA bone technique from the Twin Towers disaster in many years. The woman Victoria Ford was accused of the murder of her famous married lover and has all the mystery, kinky sex, and betrayal to bring in top ratings.
Avery talks to the woman’s sister and listens to phone calls from Victoria from the North Tower. Victoria claims she is innocent and begs her sister to clear her name, but there is too much evidence against her so no one will help and with her death the case is dropped. Avery is introduced to the retired FBI agent, Walt Jenkins who investigated the murder twenty years ago, but he has his own agenda involving Avery’s life before her fame and in regard to her infamous father.
I love reading Charlie Donlea’s books. Everyone has secrets and there are always plot twists that throw everything you believe completely upside down. The beginning was a slightly confusing until the separate characters and motives began to come together and the varying plot threads and motives begin to take shape and when they do, the story took off and I could not put it down. I was surprised many times during the investigations and especially by both plot twist endings. I loved them!
I highly recommend this mystery/thriller and this author!
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About the Author
Charlie Donlea is the #1 internationally bestselling author of Summit Lake, The Girl Who Was Taken, Don’t Believe It, Some Choose Darkness, The Suicide House and Twenty Years Later. Praised for his “soaring pace, teasing plot twists” (BookPage) and talent for writing an ending that “makes your jaw drop” (The New York Times Book Review), Donlea has been called a “bold new writer…on his way to becoming a major figure in the world of suspense” (Publishers Weekly). A late bloomer, he was twenty years old when he read his first novel––THE FIRM by John Grisham––and knew he would someday write thrillers. His books have now been translated into more than a dozen languages across thirty countries.
He was born and raised in Chicago, where he continues to live with his wife and two children.
