#mystery – Page 9 – Avonna Loves Genres

Book Tour/Feature Post and Mini Book Review: Girl Among Crows by Brendon Vayo

Girl Among Crows

by Brendon Vayo

October 30 – November 24 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for GIRL AMONG CROWS by Brendon Vayo on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book description, my mini 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

Beware the Brotherhood of the Raven

When two boys vanish from her hometown, Daphne Gauge notices uncanny parallels to her brother’s disappearance 30 years earlier. Symbols of an ancient Norse god. Rumors of a promise to reward the town’s faithful with wealth and power, for a price. She warns her husband that another sacrifice is imminent, but just like last time, no one believes her.

This leaves her with a desperate choice: investigate with limited resources, or give in to the FBI’s request for an interview. For years, they’ve wanted a member of the Gauge family to go on record about the tragedy back in 1988. If she agrees to a deposition now, Daphne must confess her family’s dark secrets. But she also might have one last chance to unmask the killer from back then . . . and now.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/122757687-girl-among-crows?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=nkIUA7o05e&rank=1

Girl Among Crows

Genre: Horror, Suspense
Published by: CamCat Books
Publication Date: November 2023
Number of Pages: 416
ISBN: 9780744306552 (ISBN10: 0744306558)

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My Mini Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

GIRL AMONG CROWS by Brendon Vayo is an interestingly unique and atmospheric horror story with elements of suspense and mystery with Norse mythology influence.

This is a difficult book to review because I am afraid of giving away any important plot points. You have to give this book a chance to get going because at first a lot of information is given that did not make sense to me, but it is relevant later, and it will come together and move more quickly as the story progresses. The mystery unravels in two timelines, Daphne’s past and present, with the disappearance of young boys in both timelines and the Brotherhood of Crows playing an important part in both. Daphne is so complex because she wants to solve the disappearances, but at the same time she would be betraying those closest to her. One word that I did look up that helped in my understanding early on in the story was “blot” which is Old Norse for an exchange in which they did a blood sacrifice to the gods in order to get something in return.

I am very glad I gave this book a try because it did turn out to be an engrossing read. If you are into dark horror with suspense and mystery this is definitely the book for you.

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Excerpt

My husband Karl shakes hands with other doctors, a carousel of orthopedic surgeons in cummerbunds. I read his lips over the brass band: How’s the champagne, Ed? Since he grayed, Karl wears a light beard that, for the convention, he trimmed to nothing.

The ballroom they rented has long windows that run along Boston’s waterfront. Sapphire table settings burn in their reflections.

The food looks delicious. Rainbows of heirloom carrots. Vermont white cheddar in the macaroni. Some compliment the main course, baked cod drizzled with olive oil. My eyes are on the chocolate cherries. Unless Karl is right, and they’re soaked in brandy.

At some dramatic point in the evening, balloons will drop from nets. A banner sags, prematurely revealing its last line.

CELEBRATING THIRTY YEARS!

Thirty years. How nice, though I try not to think that far back.

I miss something, another joke.

Everyone’s covering merlot-soaked teeth, and I wonder if they’re laughing at me. Is it my dress? I didn’t know if I should wear white like the other wives.

I redirect the conversation from my choice of a navy-blue one-shoulder, which I now see leaves me exposed, and ask so many questions about the latest in joint repair that I get lightheaded.

The chandelier spins. Double zeroes hit the roulette table. A break watching the ocean, then I’m back, resuming my duties as a spouse, suppressing a yawn for an older man my husband desperately wants to impress. A board member who could recommend Karl as the next director of clinical apps.

I’m thinking about moving up, our careers. I’m not thinking dark thoughts like people are laughing or staring at me. Not even when someone taps me on the shoulder.

“Are you Daphne?” asks a young man. A member of the wait staff. No one should know me here; I’m an ornament. Yet something’s familiar about the young man’s blue eyes. Heat trickles down my neck as I try to name the sensation in my stomach.

“And you are?” I say.

“Gerard,” he says. The glasses on his platter sway with caffeinated amber. “Gerard Gedney. You remember?”

I gag on my ginger ale.

“My gosh, I do,” I say. “Gerard. Wow.”

Thirty years ago, when this convention was still in its planning stages, Gerard Gedney was the little boy who had to stay in his room for almost his entire childhood. Beginning of every school year, each class made Get Well Soon cards and mailed them to his house.

We moved before I knew what happened to Gerard, but with everything else, I never thought of him until now. All the growing up he must’ve done, despite the odds, and now at least he got out, got away.

“I beat the leukemia,” he says.

“I’m so glad for you, Gerard.”

If that’s the appropriate response. The awkwardness that defined my childhood creeps over me. Of all the people to bump into, it has to be David Gedney’s brother. David, the Boy Never Found.

My eyes jump from Gerard to the other wait staff. They wear pleated dress pants. Gerard’s in a T-shirt, bowtie, and black jeans.

“I don’t really work here, Daphne,” says Gerard, sliding the platter onto a table. “I’ve been looking for you for a while.”

The centerpiece topples. Glass shatters. An old woman holds her throat.

“Gerard,” I say, my knees weak, “I understand you’re upset about David. Can we please not do this here?”

Gerard wouldn’t be the first to unload on what awful people we were. But to hear family gossip aired tonight, in front of my husband and his colleagues? I can’t even imagine what Karl would think.

“I’m not here about my brother,” says Gerard. “I’m here about yours.” His words twist.

“Paul,” I say.

“What about him?” “I’m so sorry,” says a waiter, bumping me. Another kneels to pick up green chunks of the vase. When I find Gerard again, he’s at the service exit, waiting for me to follow.

Before I do, I take one last look at the distinguished men and a few women. The shoulder claps. The dancing. Karl wants to be in that clique—I mean, I want that too. For him, I want it.

But I realize something else. They’re having a good time in a way I never could, even if I were able to let go of the memory of my brother, Paul.

The catering service has two vans in the alleyway. It’s a tunnel that feeds into the Boston skyline, the Prudential Center its shining peak.

Gerard beckons me to duck behind a stinky dumpster. Rain drizzles on cardboard boxes.

I never knew Gerard as a man. Maybe he has a knife or wants to strangle me, and all this news about my brother was bait to lure me out here. I’m vulnerable in high heels. But Gerard doesn’t pull a weapon.

He pulls out a postcard, its edges dusty with a white powder I can’t identify. The image is of three black crows inscribed on a glowing full moon.

“I found it in Dad’s things,” says Gerard. “Please take it. Look, David is gone. We’ve got to live with the messes our parents made. Mine sacrificed a lot for my treatment, but had they moved to Boston, I probably would’ve beat the cancer in months instead of years.”

“And this is about Paul?” I say.

“When the chemo was at its worst,” says Gerard, “I dreamed about a boy, my older self, telling me I would survive.”

I take my eyes off Gerard long enough to read the back of the postcard:

$ from Crusher. Keep yourself pure, Brother. For the sake of our children, the Door must remain open.

Crusher. Brother. Door. No salutation or signature, no return address. Other than Crusher, no names of any kind. The words run together with Gerard’s take on how treatment changed his perspective.

Something presses my stomach again. Dread. Soon as I saw this young man, I knew he was an omen of something. And when is an omen good?

“Your dad had this,” I say. “Did he say why? Or who sent it?”

An angry look crosses Gerard’s face. “My dad’s dead,” he says. “So’s Brother Dominic. Liver cancer stage 4B on Christmas Day. What’d they do to deserve that, huh?”

“They both died on Christmas? Gerard, I’m so sorry.” First David, now his dad and Dominic? He stiffens when I reach for him, and, of course, I’m the last person he wants to comfort him. “I know how hard it is. I lost my mom, as you know, and my dad ten years ago.”

The day Dad died, I thought I’d never get off the floor. I cried so hard I threw up, right in the kitchen. Karl was there, my future husband, visiting on the weekend from his residency. I didn’t even think we were serious, but there he was, talking me through it, the words lost now, but not the comfort of his voice.

I looked in his eyes, daring to hope that with this man I wouldn’t pass on to my children what Mom passed down to me.

“Mom’s half-there most days,” says Gerard. “But one thing.”

The rear entrance bangs open, spewing orange light. Two men dump oily garbage, chatting in Spanish.

“Check the postmark, Daphne,” says Gerard at the end of the alleyway. He was right beside me. Now it’s a black bird sidestepping on the dumpster, its talons clacking, wanting me to feed it. I flinch and catch Gerard shrugging under the icy rain before he disappears.

The postmark is from Los Angeles, sent October last year. Six months ago, George Gedney received this postcard. Two months later, he’s dead, and so is another son.

What does that mean? How does it fit in with Paul?

Though he’s gone, I keep calling for Gerard, my voice strangled. Someone has me by the elbow, my husband. Even in lifts, Karl’s three inches shorter than me.

“Daphne, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Colquitt. I need Sheriff Colquitt or . . .” Voices argue in my head, and I nod at the hail swirling past yellow streetlamps. “Thirty years ago, Bixbee was a young man. He might still be alive.”

“Daphne, did that man hurt you? Hey.”

Karl demands that someone call the police, but I shake him.

“It’s fine, Karl,” I say, dialing Berkshire County Sheriff ’s Office. “Gerard’s a boy I knew from my hometown.”

Karl’s calling someone too. “Some coincidence,” he says.

Though it wasn’t. Here I am trying not to think about the past, and it comes back to slap me in the face as though I summoned it. Paul. The little brother I vowed to protect.

The phone finally picks up. “Berkshire Sheriff’s Office.”

“Hello,” I say, “could I leave a message for Harold Bixbee to call me back as soon as possible? He is or was a deputy in your department.”

“Uh, ma’am, I don’t have anyone in our personnel records who matches that name. But if it’s an emergency, I’d be glad—”
I hang up. Damn. I should’ve known at nine p.m., all I’d get is a desk sergeant. I’d spend half the night catching him up to speed.

“Daphne.” My husband lowers his phone, looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “I asked Ed to pull the hotel’s security feed. You’re the only one on tape.”

“What? No.”

“It shows that you walked out that door alone,” says Karl, gesturing, “and I come out a few minutes later.”

The Door must remain open.

Dread hardens, then the postcard’s corner jabs my thumb. I’m about to show Karl my proof when I realize that now there are only two crows in the moon.

“How’d he do that?” I keep flipping it, expecting the third one to return, before I sense my husband waiting. Distantly, I hear wings flap, but it could be the rain. “Gerard wanted me to have his dad’s postcard.”

“So this boy Gerard comes all the way from Springfield to hand you a postcard,” Karl says. “And he can magically avoid cameras?”

“I’m not from Springfield,” I say, shaking off a chill. Magically avoid cameras. And Gerard can turn pictures of crows into real ones too. How?

“You seem very agitated,” says Karl. “Want me to call Dr. Russell? Unless . . .” Karl’s listening, just not to me. “Ed says the camera angles aren’t the best here. There’s a few blind spots.”

“I said I’m not from Springfield, Karl. Any more than you’re from Boston.”

My husband nods, still wary. “Boston is more recognizable than Quincy. But how does your hometown account for why Gerard isn’t on the security footage?”

I lick my lips, my hand hovering over Karl’s phone.

When we first met, I wanted to keep things upbeat. Me? I’m a daddy’s girl, though (chuckling) certainly not to a fault. In the interest of a second date, I might’ve understated some things.

“Here,” I say, “it’s more like I’m from the Hilltowns. It’s a remote area.” My lips tremble, trying to force out the name of my hometown. “I was born and raised in New Minton, Karl.”

Somewhere between Cabbage Patch Kids and stickers hidden in a cereal box, the ones Paul demanded every time we opened a new Crøønchy Stars, is recognition. I can tell by the strange flicker on Karl’s face.

“The New Minton Boys,” he says. “All those missing kids, the ones never found.” Karl is stunned. “Daphne, you’re from there? Did you know those boys? God, you would’ve been a kid yourself.”

“I was eleven,” I say. And I was a kid, a selfish kid. I came from a large family. Brandy was seventeen, Courtney fifteen, Ellie nine, and Paul seven.

The day before my brother disappeared, I wasn’t thinking that this night was the last time we’d all be together. I wasn’t thinking about the pain Mom and Dad would go through, especially after the town gossip began.

No. I thought my biggest problems in the world were mean schoolboys. So I ruined dinner.

“Daphne?” Now Karl looks mad. “That’s a big secret not to tell your husband.”

If only he knew.

***

Author Bio

Brendon Vayo was born in Okinawa, Japan, and now lives in Austin, TX. He has a wonderful wife and three children. The kids keep him awake at night, so he hopes his books do the same to you.

Social Media Links

Goodreads
Instagram – @brendonvayo
Twitter/X – @brendonvayo3
Facebook

Purchase Links

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | CamCat Books

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KINGSUMO GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/s78zfa/girl-among-crows-by-brendon-vayo-arc

Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: Dating Can Be Deadly by Amanda Flower

Book Description

It’s August in Holmes County, and that means it’s time for the Holmes County Fair. It’s the county’s biggest annual event, drawing tourists and locals alike to see livestock, eat too much fried food, and watch the rodeo and speed racing contests. This year, Millie has entered the quilting competition—while her very not Amish best friend, Lois Henry, is distracted by her new dating app and her search for husband number five. In a place where quilting is a way of life, the competition is fierce—especially this year, when an anonymous donor doubles the winning cash prize. Amish and English women are up against each other, and some will do anything to win—even murder . . .

When someone attacks the quilt barn by slashing the quilt display, it’s unsettling enough. But when a quilting judge is found murdered, Millie knows it’s time to for Lois to get off her app and help her hunt for a killer instead—before the competition is wiped out for good . . .

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Elise’s Thoughts

Dating Can Be Deadly by Amanda Flower is a great cozy mystery. Readers never get disappointed with any book Amanda Flower writes. As with all her cozy mysteries there are many suspects, a lot of humor, learning more about the Amish community, and some very touching moments.

There is always a contrast between the Amish characters and the English characters. Millie is Amish and someone who is unassuming, quietly competent, and not eager to call attention to herself. Her best friend, Lois, is English, very flamboyant, and quite vocal. Both are trying to solve murders while trying to figure out their romantic lives. Lois decided to use a dating app to find a love interest, whereas Millie is struggling to get beyond the love of her life, her late husband.

Readers will not get sidetracked with the character’s personal life because the focus is still on the mystery. In this book at the Holmes County Fair Millie has entered a quilt competition with other Amish women. Millie’s nephew, Micah, has also entered her goats, Phillip, and Peter, in a contest. The goats are known for being rambunctious and decide to escape their pen and explore the fair. Millie and Lois search for them only to find them at the quilt barn along with a dead body, the quilting judge. Now they must find who is the murderer before others get hurt including a ten-year-old Amish boy, Zach who possibly witnessed the murder.

This story has it all. The humorous part of the story always comes from Lois’s antics including her trying to find a suitor along with the rascally goats. Because of Millie’s apprehension about pursuing a romantic relationship she finds solace in turning to Amish proverbs, which is where readers learn more about the Amish community. The touching part of the story is how Zach has no family after his grandfather abandoned him and he only has Scooter, his belove Pygmy goat.

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Author Interview

Elise Cooper: Why was the story centered around an axe?

Amanda Flower: I always wanted to write about the Holmes County Fair. A year ago, my husband and I went to the fair to research for the book. One of the first things I see is an axe-throwing booth just like in the book. It seemed like a perfect fit for a mystery novel. Of course, I had to try it. I did hit the bullseye although not on the first time. As soon as I saw it. I knew I wanted to write about it.

EC: The quilts also play a role.

AF: I knew I wanted the main character, Millie, to enter her quilt in the fair. I went to the quilts at the fair and saw how they were displayed. She and her friends were in a quilt group and many of them entered their quilts in the fair contest.

EC: You introduced a new character, Zach. Can you describe him?

AF: He is a ten-year-old boy who is a friend of Millie’s nephew, Micah. His mother left him with his grandfather who thinks poorly of him because he was born out of wedlock and his father was an “English” man. His grandfather basically abandons him. He is a sweet little boy in a bad family situation. As I was writing this story the adoption was being finalized for two of my nephews who were in the foster system.

EC: Why the dating app?

AF: I thought of it funny to think of Millie’s friend, Lois, trying to use it. She is very zany but is a hopeless romantic. She loves being in love. Even though she is almost seventy she tried it. I wanted this to be the humorous part of the story.

EC: The goats played a major role in the story. Do you agree?

AF: Yes. Millie’s great nephew, Micah, wanted to enter her goats, Phillip, and Peter into the fair. Near the beginning of the book, they get out of their pen a lot because they are rascals. Because they were out and everyone was looking for them, they are found in the place with a dead body. They lead Lois and Millie to a dead body. Zach also had a goat, Scooter, who he loved very much because his mother gave it to him just before she left. Scooter is a Pygmy goat.

EC: Where are you going with the relationship between Millie and Uriah?

AF: I used the Amish proverbs to help Millie decide on where she is going with her life. She was really torn between her past and possible future. She is one of my most loyal characters. Even though her husband had been gone for over 20 years it is still hard for her to pursue another relationship. Uriah knows she is struggling and is very supportive of her and cares for her a lot. He realizes she is independent, is frightened of marriage, and how she is dedicated to her husband’s memory forever.

EC: Next books?

AF: There will be another Emily Dickerson mystery coming out this November. Then in March of next year there will be a series with the Wright Brothers written from the point of view of their younger sister Katherine. It is titled To Slip the Bonds of Earth.

It will be a while before there will be another Amish book. Going forward I will be writing one historical book and one Amish book, alternating between the Amish Candy Shop Book and the Amish Matchmaker Book.

The end of next year will be the Candy Shop Book titled Gingerbread Danger. It is a Christmas mystery. There is a life size Candyland Game throughout the village, and someone gets killed.

Then after that will be the Millie and Lois book where they go to Pinecraft Florida where there is an Amish community. There will be a lot of new characters and of course a murder.

THANK YOU!!

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BIO: Elise Cooper has written book reviews and interviewed best-selling authors since 2009. Her reviews have covered several different genres, including thrillers, mysteries, women’s fiction, romance and cozy mysteries. An avid reader, she engages authors to discuss their works, and to focus on the descriptions of their characters and the plot. While not writing reviews, Elise loves to watch baseball and visit the ocean in Southern California, with her dog and husband.

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Danger on the Island by Stewart Giles

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for DANGER ON THE ISLAND (DI Liam O’Reilly Mysteries Book #11) by Stewart Giles on this Books ‘n’ All Promotions Blog Tour.

Below you will find a book blurb, my book review, and the author’s bio and social media links. This series never disappoints. Enjoy!

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Book Blurb

The Island of Guernsey isn’t exactly a favourite destination for adrenaline junkies.
But it does have one thing that attracts a new breed of adventure freaks.

Cliff jumping is taking off on the island, and June appears to be the best time of year for those that way inclined to choose to partake in the sport.

When a young woman is killed after a jump, her death is judged a tragic accident, but when her body is retrieved, and the remains of another corpse is found on the rocks below, the Island Police are brought in.

It’s the last thing Detective Liam O’Reilly feels like. Still feeling the effects of a case that almost broke him, he really doesn’t need this.

But when he drags himself back to where he once was, and starts to understand what he’s dealing with he wakes up enough to realise he’s dealing with something much more dangerous than the cliffs that people are jumping off.

There is someone on the Island who likes to take things to the extreme, and O’Reilly is damned if they’re going to do it on his island.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/127541869-danger-on-the-island?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=Z2JAu9hEPC&rank=1

DI O’REILLY MYSTERIES

Book 1 – Blood on the Island

Book 2 – Lies on the Island

Book 3 – Fear on the Island

Book 4 – Malice on the Island

Book 5 – Revenge on the Island

Book 6 – Christmas on the Island

Book 7 – Silence on the Island

Book 8 – Secrets on the Island

Book 9 – Chaos on the Island

Book 10 – Sadness on the Island

Book 11 – Danger on the Island

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

DANGER ON THE ISLAND (DI Liam O’Reilly Mysteries Book #11) by Stewart Giles is an exciting, intricately plotted serial killer mystery featuring the feisty Irish DI Liam O’Reilly and his police team on the island of Guernsey. This book can be read as a crime mystery standalone, but the main characters continue to evolve with each book, and I feel they are best read in order. Every book in this series is amazing and will not disappoint.

Guernsey is usually a laid-back place to live and vacation, but this summer a new phenomenon for thrill-seekers is occurring on the island – tombstoning – which is the activity of jumping into the sea from high cliffs or other high points. When a group goes out early for a jump, the first girl off the cliff hits the jagged rocks instead of the sea and when the Coast Guard go to retrieve the body, they find a second female body impaled on the rocks.

O’Reilly is back to work after a terrible motorbike accident because he refuses to sit at home. As more bodies are found at the farthest points of the island with no identification, O’Reilly and his team are at a loss. No clues but footprints until a young boy films one of the murders, but the perpetrators are wearing masks. O’Reilly knows he and his team are being led and he is determined to turn that around and find what is really going on with this sudden bout of murders on the island.

I absolutely love every time I get to take a book trip to Guernsey and revisit all these characters. O’Reilly and all the recurring characters after these eleven books are fully drawn and I feel as though I am visiting old friends while also trying to figure out a well plotted and always surprising crime mystery. I was on the edge of my seat, as usual, reading this book and could not put it down. I know when I get an Island book that I had better have several hours to sit and get immersed because I never stop until the last page.

I highly recommend this gripping and exciting serial killer crime mystery book! I never miss one of these DI Liam O’Reilly Mysteries books.

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Author Bio

After reading English at 3 Universities and graduating from none of them, I set off travelling around the world with my wife, Ann, finally settling in South Africa, where we still live.

In 2014 Ann dropped a rather large speaker on my head and I came up with the idea for a detective series. DS Jason Smith was born. Smith, the first in the series was finished a few months later.

3 years and 8 DS Smith books later, Joffe Books wondered if I would be interested in working with them. As a self-published author, I agreed. However, we decided on a new series – the DC Harriet Taylor: Cornwall series.

The Beekeeper was published and soon hit the number one spot in Australia. The second in the series, The Perfect Murder did just as well.

I continued to self-publish the Smith series and Unworthy hit the shelves in 2018 with amazing results. I therefore made the decision to self-publish The Backpacker which is book 3 in the Detective Harriet Taylor series which was published in July 2018.

After The Backpacker I had an idea for a totally new start to a series – a collaboration between the Smith and Harriet thrillers and The Enigma was born. It brought together the broody, enigmatic Jason Smith and the more level-headed Harriet Taylor.

The Miranda trilogy is something totally different. A psychological thriller trilogy. It is a real departure from anything else I’ve written before.

The Detective Jason Smith series continues to grow. I also have another series featuring an Irish detective who relocated to Guernsey, the Detective Liam O’Reilly series. There are also 3 stand alone novels.

Social Media Links

Website: www.stewartgiles.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stewart.giles.33

Twitter: @stewartgiles

Book Review: Blessing of the Lost Girls by J.A. Jance

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

BLESSING OF THE LOST GIRLS (A Brady and Walker Family Novel Book #1) by J.A. Jance is a gripping serial killer crime mystery police procedural suspense with combined characters from two of Ms. Jance’s long time series. This book can be read as a standalone because the character’s relationships are explained, and the focus is on a new generation of both families.

Federal agent Dan Pardee is now working for a new government agency, Missing and Murdered Indigenous People Task Force (MIP). An unidentified burned body was found in Cochise County and identified two years later with newly submitted dental records by the new MIP unit. Dan is assigned the case which brings him into Joanna Brady’s jurisdiction, but it is Joanna’s daughter, criminal justice major Jenny Brady, who has information for this investigation.

Dan’s investigation begins to grow as he discovers a rodeo connection from this killer to several more missing girls. He now realizes he is chasing a serial killer who preys on marginalized girls and is skilled at not leaving a trail.

I felt this was an exceptionally strong crime mystery plot which the author took step-by-step to an exciting conclusion, even knowing who the serial killer is from the beginning. The story could be right out of the headlines with the focus on missing and murdered indigenous women. Dan is a determined and skilled law enforcement agent with an interesting Native American background which makes him perfect for his job. I also liked the possibility of Jenny Brady working with Dan in the future, which was left open. The serial killer is terrifying in his proficiency. I have heard of J.A. Jance for years, but this is the first book I have read by this author. I feel that helped me enjoy the new focus on these characters without expectations, but the marketing of it as a Brady and Walker book is confusing. Dan Pardee is a great character and I think he should be the focus in future marketing.

I found this engrossing serial killer crime mystery/police procedural suspense a thrilling read with a much needed focus on missing and murdered indigenous women. I am looking forward to more books featuring Dan Pardee.

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About the Author

J.A. Jance is the New York Times best selling author of 46 contemporary mysteries in four different series.

A voracious reader, J. A. Jance knew she wanted to be a writer from the moment she read her first Wizard of Oz book in second grade. Always drawn to mysteries, from Nancy Drew right through John D. McDonald’s Travis Magee series, it was only natural that when she tried her hand at writing her first book, it would be a mystery as well.

J. A. Jance went on to become the New York Times bestselling author of the J. P. Beaumont series, the Joanna Brady series, three interrelated thrillers featuring the Walker family, and Edge of Evil. Born in South Dakota and brought up in Bisbee, Arizona, Jance lives with her husband in Seattle, Washington, and Tucson, Arizona.

Jance is an avid crusader for many causes, including the American Cancer Society, Gilda’s Club, the Humane Society, the YMCA, and the Girl Scouts. A lover of animals, she has a rescued Dachshund named Bella.

Social Media Links

Website: https://www.jajance.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JAJance

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-a-jance

Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: Blood Sisters by Vanessa Lillie

Book Description

A visceral and compelling mystery about a Cherokee archeologist for the Bureau of Indian Affairs who is summoned to rural Oklahoma to investigate the disappearance of two women…one of them her sister.

There are secrets in the land.

As an archeologist for the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Syd Walker spends her days in Rhode Island trying to protect the land’s indigenous past, even as she’s escaping her own.

While Syd is dedicated to her job, she’s haunted by a night of violence she barely escaped in her Oklahoma hometown fifteen years ago. Though she swore she’d never go back, the past comes calling.

When a skull is found near the crime scene of her youth, just as her sister, Emma Lou, vanishes, Syd knows she must return home. She refuses to let her sister’s disappearance, or the remains, go ignored—as so often happens in cases of missing Native women.

But not everyone is glad to have Syd home, and she can feel the crosshairs on her back. Still, the deeper Syd digs, the more she uncovers about a string of missing indigenous women cases going back decades. To save her sister, she must expose a darkness in the town that no one wants to face—not even Syd.

The truth will be unearthed.

***

Elise’s Thoughts

Blood Sisters by Vanessa Lillie combines a riveting mystery within a thrilling plot. This is a story of the main character’s personal journey as she attempts to overcome her past demons and strives to balance her Native American identity with her current life.

Syd Walker, the protagonist, now lives in Rhode Island with her wife Mali, working for the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA). She moved there from Oklahoma because of her violent past. Fifteen years ago she barely escaped from being killed when two masked men came into the trailer she, her sister, and her best friend were staying. She was able to rescue her sister, Emma Lou, but her best friend, Luna Myers was murdered. She is guilt ridden and haunted literally by Luna’s ghost, who speaks to her ala Charles Todd whose ghost Hamish haunts Scotland Yard Inspector Ian Rutledge.

After Syd’s old BIA ID badge from a college internship is found inside a skull on BIA-managed land she is asked by her BIA supervisor, Jo Mankiller, to investigate. Reluctantly, she returns to her hometown and learns that her sister Emma Lou, an opiate addict, has vanished, one of many Indigenous women to have recently disappeared from the area. She begins to investigate the women’s disappearances, hoping her inquiry might finally bring her face-to-face with Luna’s killer.

The blending of the culture and history made the plot even more interesting. Readers take the journey with Syd as she tries to reconcile her past, come to terms with her demons, and attempting to rebuild a relationship with her family.

***

Author Interview

Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea for the story?

Vanessa Lillie: This is the first book in the series. The story is set in Northeast Oklahoma, which is where I am from. I wanted to write about my hometown and the surrounding towns. The town in the story, is based on the history of a real town where there was oil and minerals, lead, and zinc. It became a boom town overnight. I wanted to incorporate my real history within my fictional characters backstory. I also wanted to write about the meth production, the Mexican Cartels coming into NE Oklahoma, and the legislative changes which is all accurate for the time, in 2008. I wanted to show how the illegal drug of meth combined with the legal Opioid drugs caused a lot of devastation in so many communities.

EC: What about the Native American references?

VL: The Quapaw Tribe had land taken from them. I set the story in 2008 because it is now a ghost town, with a government buyout program. There are serious health issues because of all the left-over minerals. I grew up next to this community. I am Cherokee so I wanted to write about a Cherokee protagonist. Because the matriarchal connection among Native Americans is so strong, I wrote how Syd is connected to her late grandmother, her Cherokee heritage that they shared together.

EC: How would you describe the main protagonist Syd?

VL: She is a badass—with a lot of vulnerability. I wanted to show through this character how someone processes trauma. She cares about justice, what she believes is right. She is haunted and struggles to connect with people. She is not direct and a loner. She has a little bit chip on her shoulder.

EC: Syd coming home reminded me of those in the military who come home on leave and feel like a fish out of water?

VL: I am from a small town and left it to go to college when I was 18.I still felt a disconnect and insecurity when I returned, which is something I put onto Syd. It is hard for her to come in and think she has answers when Syd did not live there. She might have good intentions but does not know the reality of what is going on. She had created emotional boundaries and literal physical boundaries when she left her hometown and moved across the country.

EC: The story has the mystery of what happened to Syd’s sister?

VL: She will do anything to find, help, and save her. Even putting her life at risk. Syd had created boundaries in her life, but at the end of the day when her sister was at risk, she would do anything to save her sister.

EC: What was the role of Syd’s boss, Jo Mankiller?

VL: She represents the new generation of those in the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA). She feels she is there to support the tribes and the people. She has her own internal politics going. She agrees with Syd that BIA should help the tribes, particularly with the murdered and missing girls. The BIA is a management structure for tribal lands. Unfortunately, the Federal government in 2008 controls the law enforcement and they do not often care about girls going missing. Their attention is on the drug cases.

EC: What was the role of the ghost, Luna-did you get the idea from the movie “The Sixth Sense” where the boy saw “dead people?”

VL: I wrote a pilot through the Native American media. It was a screenplay. I was struggling to communicate Syd’s problem. My editor and I worked it into this story. Syd is literally haunted by this sarcastic ghost girl. Ghost Luna is a manifestation of trauma and pain that Syd carries. She appears during Syd’s stress. She is based on an old memory of a teenage friend when they were girls.

EC: Can you explain the quote about love?

VL: You are referring to this one, “Love isn’t protective. In fact, it’s what makes us vulnerable to pain.” Anytime someone loves, they risk pain. People open themselves up to others and risk disappointment and hurt. There are beautiful things that come with it. For Syd, she has the idea of love, pain, and hope.

EC: Next book?

VL: It will be set where I live now. Syd has another case tied to earlier colonial days. It will probably come out in 2025.

THANK YOU!!

***

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater by Jaime Jo Wright

The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater

by Jaime Jo Wright

October 9 – 20, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE LOST BOYS OF BARLOWE THEATER by Jaime Jo Wright 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

It promises beauty but steals life instead. Will the ghosts of Barlowe Theater entomb them all?

Barlowe Theater stole the life of Greta Mercy’s eldest brother during its construction. Now in 1915, the completed theater appears every bit as deadly. When Greta’s younger brother goes missing after breaking into the building, Greta engages the assistance of a local police officer to help her unveil the already ghostly secrets of the theater. But when help comes from an unlikely source, Greta decides that to save her family she must uncover the evil that haunts the theater and put its threat to rest.

Decades later, Kit Boyd’s best friend vanishes during a ghost walk at the Barlowe Theater, and old stories of mysterious disappearances and ghoulish happenings are revived. Then television ghost-hunting host and skeptic Evan Fisher joins Kit in the quest to identify the truth behind the theater’s history. Kit reluctantly agrees to work with him in hopes of finding her missing friend. As the theater’s curse unravels Kit’s life, she is determined to put an end to the evil that has marked the theater and their hometown for the last century.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/90203406-the-lost-boys-of-barlowe-theater?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=P1RToxl6E7&rank=1

The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Christian, Historical
Published by: Bethany House Publishers
Publication Date: October 2023
Number of Pages: 384
ISBN: 9780764241444

***

My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE LOST BOYS OF BARLOWE THEATER by Jaime Jo Wright is a wonderfully atmospheric Christian romantic suspense/mystery story for the Halloween season. This story is told in dual timelines by two female heroines trying to find loved ones lost in the eerie Barlowe Theater in Kipper’s Grove, Wisconsin.

The female heroine in 1915 is Greta Mercy. After the death of her parents and her eldest brother, she is trying desperately to keep her younger brothers with her. Her brother, Leo disappears with two other boys in the Barlowe theater. Her storyline was very believable and felt appropriate to the period. The female heroine in the present is Kit Boyd. Her best friend disappears in the Barlowe as they are filming with a crew from a TV show about psychics and skeptics. While I understand some adoptees have abandonment issues that make it difficult to trust and form attachments, Kit brought up her issue with this continually and I lost my sympathy with her because it just became annoying. Both women meet men that assist them with their investigations and become their HEAs. There is no sex and I felt little build up or chemistry to their relationships.

I really loved the intricate plots in the dual timelines that constantly had me guessing if this story was going to delve into the paranormal, spiritual, or just pedestrian criminal human realms. My angst level was high while I was reading this book, and I could not stop until the solution of both timelines. The discussions of faith, spirits and demons, and skepticism were interwoven in the timelines and illustrated the differing beliefs in the differing time periods. Both stories are based around missing loved ones and even though they were different, they blended perfectly.

I recommend this Christian romantic suspense/mystery for a haunting good read.

***

Excerpt

Greta Mercy

October 1915
Kipper’s Grove, Wisconsin

Sometimes death came quietly. A phantom swooping in and siphoning the last remnant of a soul from one’s body, leaving behind a shell of a person who once was and would never be again. Other times, death decided that dramatics coupled with terror were its preferred method of delivery. Tonight, that was the chosen form death took.

Screams echoed throughout the theater’s golden, embellished auditorium and drifted upward to the domed, hand-painted ceiling, where Putti flew as angelic, childlike spirits over the mass of onlookers.

A shoulder rammed into Greta’s arm as a husky man, far too large for the narrow seats, pushed his way past her toward the center aisle.

“Let me pass!” he barked. Urgency spurred him forward. “I’m a doctor, let me pass!”

The vaudeville lights on either side of the stage boasted letters a through g, with the g lit and distinct over the other letters.

“I’m letter g!” The doctor shouted while those in front of him jostled to the side or hurried ahead to move out of his way. Doctors were assigned specific letters from the vaudeville lights, and if they were lit, a doctor was needed—either at home, on call, or in the vicinity.

The vicinity was here. It was now.

Onlookers continued to gasp and protest. Women in beautiful silks and satins hurried to the back to find respite in the upstairs ladies’ room. Men in evening wear catapulted over seats and to the floor on the far left of the auditorium.

Greta was frozen in place, her seat having flipped up against its back so she could move. But her eyes were fixed with horror on the scene unfolding. They lifted to one of the box seats above the floor, where men, including the doctor, were congregating en masse. The gilded box was a flurry of activity. A man embraced a woman, who fought and clawed at his hold. Her screams had many onlookers staring at her, including the performer in her violet gown and befeathered hair. Moments before, her vocals had swirled around them all in a cadence of beauty and refined music. Now, her mouth was open, her face pale, her entire pose aghast. She had captured an enthralled audience, all whose gazes toward the stage had kept them from seeing what Greta had seen. Greta, who shouldn’t have been here to begin with. She didn’t belong with the pomp and circumstance, the heady scent of perfume and cologne, which made her mind thick and her eyes wander. They’d wandered to the box seat, and she’d witnessed what no one else had. The white hands stretching, reaching over the side,
dangling . . .

“It was a child!” The horrified cry slipped for the third time from Greta’s lips. She could hear herself screaming and was unable to stop. Her screams had ripped through the performance as the child in a white nightdress plummeted into the shadows of the floor’s obscure corner.

The woman in the box seat had been pulled from view, its red velvet curtain shut swiftly.

“It was a baby!” Greta rasped out as horror strangled her.

“Greta. It’s all right.” The reassuring voice of her friend, Eleanor Boyd, as well as the comforting grip on Greta’s arm finally stilled her.

Greta focused again on her friend—her wealthy friend who should not be her friend at all.

Eleanor’s blue eyes were round with fear that must mirror Greta’s own. Her blond curls swept upward and were twisted with pearls. Her dress was a baby-blue silk. Any other moment, Greta would have soaked in the awe that tonight she, Greta Boyd, who could barely keep her family fed and clothed, was sitting among the elite, pretending to be one of them. But now? It hardly mattered. The borrowed corset that tucked in her waistline, the aged but wearable pink dress she had borrowed from Eleanor, and even the gloves she wore on her dry, cracked hands—none of them mattered now.

“What happened? What did you see?” Eleanor clutched at Greta’s arm.

Greta couldn’t reply. The sheer magnitude of the moment, the honor of being in the audience of the Barlowe Theater had been overwhelming . . . until she’d seen it. The baby launched over the side of the box seat. Like a cherub from the mural above, it had taken flight before it disappeared.

Greta’s knees gave out, and she fell to where her seat should have been had it not folded in on itself. Her hip struck the polished wood arm.

“Greta!” Eleanor reached for her.

Greta felt Eleanor’s brother on her other side, grabbing for her waist to give her support. But it was too late. She had collapsed to the narrow walkway between the seats. Her knees hit the carpeted floor.

Was she the only person who had seen death’s swift visitation tonight? The only one who had witnessed its evil intent as it ripped the babe forcefully from its mother’s arms?

It wouldn’t survive. It could not. The fall was too far, too great.

Death had decided to match the theater’s reputation for drama and awe. Greta couldn’t tear her gaze from where she’d seen the small form disappear on its way to its resting place on the floor of the Barlowe Theater.

The babe had slipped. No, it had been tossed. Its mother’s screams still echoed from the hallway beyond the curtain. Those in the crowd cried “Accident,” “Traumatic mishap,” and other such things. But Greta knew differently. She had known before she came tonight, and she should have stayed away.

Barlowe Theater was not a place that brought joy and entertainment, as was its supposed purpose. No, it had already taken lives in the construction of it, tortured the ones who dared stand in its way, and now it was hunting those innocents who had happened into the shadows of its deadly interior. The theater was cursed.

Kit Boyd

October, Present Day
Kipper’s Grove, Wisconsin

Death stuck with a place. Once the blood had seeped into the carpet, the flooring, the walls, it stayed there, long after the stains were removed. They were the testament to lives robbed of their rightful journey through time. Cut short. Obliterated. Bludgeoned into nonexistence. Smothered by the grave, burrowed into by the worms—

“Hey!”

Fingers snapped in front of Kit Boyd’s face, and she startled out of her staring into the dark, narrow stairwell that led beneath the stage of the Barlowe Theater.

“Get with it, bruh.” The fingers snapped again. Kit looked up at the taller man beside her. He was overweight and smelled like pizza, but he had a nice face. His name was Tom, they’d told her, the crew from the TV show Psychic and the Skeptic.

“Sorry.” Kit offered him a wince. She’d paused on the first concrete step while her best friend, Madison, the psychic medium, Heather Grant, and the skeptic investigator, Evan Fischer, disappeared into the bowels of the theater. Tom the cameraman was held back by her hesitation. She gave him a warning look, though the theater’s darkness in the midnight atmosphere probably hid most of her expression. “You do know people died here . . . have disappeared here.”

“That’s the point.” Tom waved her forward, the camera on his shoulder blinking a red light. “But I need to catch them on film if I can, and you’re in my way.”

Fabulous. She was on camera. That would probably make the show too. Kit Boyd, the quirky sidekick to Madison Farrington, the historical activist, the beauty, the granddaughter of the town’s ambitious CEO of all things expansion, modern, and money-making.

“Hello?” There was definite irritation in Tom’s voice.

“I’m going! I’m going.” Kit hurried down the steps. She’d taken them many times before. Anyone who was native to Kipper’s Grove, Wisconsin, had grown up in the Barlowe Theater at one point or another. Dancers had tapped and glided across its stage in recitals, high school glee clubs with dreams of Broadway had warbled off-key through its hall, and the local theater guild had put on such plays as Arsenic and Old Lace and The Music Man. Kit hadn’t been in any of those. Instead, she was the one backstage handing bottles of water to the performers, smiling and cracking jokes to encourage the stage-frozen little six-year-old dressed in a yellow tutu with glitter on her cheeks.

“Oh, c’mon!” Tom hissed, his irritation past the point of being hidden. How he’d gotten behind her anyway was a faux pas for filming. He was supposed to stick close to the stars of the show, Heather and Evan. And boy, did those two get along famously—not.

“Whew!” Kit wheezed under her breath, not caring if Tom heard. “I’d try to avoid those two if you could.”

“Yeah, well, I have a job to do.” Tom squeezed past Kit as she hugged the cement-block wall at the bottom of the stairs to let him through. He elbowed her arm and didn’t bother to apologize. He probably felt as if she owed him that luxury. The luxury of being annoyed.

Okay, fine. She did.

If she was being honest, Kit wasn’t a fan of the Barlowe Theater past dark. Which was the cliché of all theaters built just after the turn of the century. It was dark. Haunted. The place was like a tomb. Crank up some vaudeville music and the place became a literal haunted house of horrors for Halloween. And Kit hated Halloween. The darkness, the Gothic look and feel, Halloween was for morbid people who thought Edgar Allan Poe was romantic in his mystery and lore instead of macabre and bleak. Hadn’t he died questionably? She’d heard a podcast once that claimed the poet might have been murdered, contrary to the popular belief that his death had been the result of some fatal malady undiagnosed.

Kit shook her head to clear her thoughts. Mom said cobwebs couldn’t possibly gather in her head because she had too many ideas. Mom was right. Kit would never be accused of having an underactive imagination.

A finger jabbed into the back of her shoulder.

“Stop it!” Kit spun to glare at the offender.

No one was there.

Her skin began crawling. “Gahhhhhh!” She waved her hands wildly at the unseen ghost finger. Probably her imagination, but whatever. She had let Madison sucker her into a ghost hunt for the popular ghost-hunting television show. This was her penance? Getting poked by an elusive spirit?

“Sorry, God.” Kit mumbled an apology to the Almighty, who was probably rolling His eyes at their attempts to mess with the spirit world. But this was Madison. She believed anything was possible. Kit had been raised to believe that this type of anything was probably demonic. There had to be a middle ground. Hadn’t there?

Kit hurried around the corner, stubbing her toe on a bolt that rose half an inch up from the floor. Dampness and time had warped the theater’s floor, making it uneven. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her bare toe. Flip-flops on a ghost hunt. Bad idea.

She looked around—well, as best as she could. The basement was dark, as were the dressing rooms to her right, sized like prison cells. The short hall to her left leading directly below the stage was also dark.

“Hello, darkness,” Kit crooned quietly, craning her neck to peer ahead. “Hello?” she tried again, this time louder.

No answer.

“Seriously, someone?” Kit was beginning to share Tom the cameraman’s annoyance now. Two argumentative television stars, her best friend, and a cameraman didn’t just vanish within minutes. The basement wasn’t that huge.

But it was Barlowe Theater.

“Tom?” Kit hissed, daring a few steps into the dank blackness. “Madison?”

Again, no one answered. The only light was a flickering bulb that had to be a wattage short of worth having at all. It buzzed too. Of course it did. If this stunt was for show
dramatics . . .

“Madison!” Kit shouted. In the ten years since they’d graduated high school, she had followed this woman around. She was owed some loyalty in return. “If this is for ratings, it’s unkind of you!” Kit yelled. Her words echoed back at her.

“Madis—”

Light slammed into her face, blinding Kit. She raised her hands as the flashlight’s beam collided with her eyes.

“They’re gone!” It was Tom.

Kit could see the whites of his eyes just beyond the flashlight he swung around wildly.

“What do you mean?” Kit tried to take captive Tom’s arm as he flooded the hallway with the light, then a dressing room, then the ceiling. His camera wasn’t on his shoulder.

He wasn’t filming.

Kit’s throat tightened. Okay, that wasn’t a good sign. “Where’s Madison?”

Tom swung the light back in Kit’s face. “Where’s Evan? Where’s Heather? Where’s my team?” His voice shook with undisguised concern, turning fast into panic. “How big is this place?”

“Not that big.” Kit pushed past him. Concerned now. This had gone too far. Madison and her harebrained schemes to keep her own grandfather from ruining the historic downtown. Make it famous, she said. Put it on TV, she said. Make viewers defend Kipper’s Grove, she said. “Madison!” Kit shouted, anxiousness seeping into her voice. “Stop this! It’s not funny!”

Tom’s light bounced on the floor in front of them as Kit spun around and marched back toward him. She shoved past his husky chest and down the short passage to the door leading under the stage. Her fingers curled around the doorknob, its old mechanics making it wobbly beneath her grip.

Kit jerked it open.

She fell back with a shriek, colliding with Tom, who had come way too close behind her.

Heather, the medium from the show, stood stock-still facing them. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her skin white in the flashlight’s glow.

“She’s gone.” Heather’s monotone voice filtered through the passage.

Kit words were stolen from her as her stomach dropped.

“Who’s gone?” Tom demanded.

“Madison.” Evan Fischer, the cohost, the skeptic, and the all-around grumpy hero of the show strode past his partner. Heather’s expression didn’t waver as her eyes remained fixated on . . . whatever she was staring at in the spirit world beyond. “Madison’s gone.”

Evan left less than a few inches between his face and Kit’s as he bent his six-foot frame down to meet her five-foot-four one. “Where is she?”

“I don’t kn—”

“Where. Is. She?” He cut off Kit’s answer as unsatisfactory.

Her breaths came shorter, faster. She could feel Tom behind her. She was sandwiched between him and Evan, with Heather staring into the great abyss.

“I told you. I don’t know.” Kit heard the quaver in her voice. She shoved her trembling hands into her pockets.

“She’s gone.” Evan slapped the wall, glaring at Tom, who was speechless. “Is this a scam? A stunt?”

Kit couldn’t answer. Of course, the show would think it was a ploy by Madison. A publicity ploy. But it went deeper than that. Far deeper. Kit sagged against the wall, the air not reaching her lungs as it should.

She prayed then. Prayed that Madison really was messing with them. That she had simply gone too far ahead beneath the stage and left them behind.

But the theater was hungry, and everyone in Kipper’s Grove knew it was only a matter of time before this hunger added to the stories of death and spirits. That’s how the theater was, after all. Drama. Suspense. And the unearthly way that such things drifted through its rafters.

***

Author Bio

Jaime Jo Wright is the author of nine novels, including Christy Award and Daphne du Maurier Award winner The House on Foster Hill and Carol Award winner The Reckoning at Gossamer Pond. She’s also the Publishers Weekly and ECPA bestselling author of two novellas. Jaime lives in Wisconsin with her cat named Foo; her husband, Cap’n Hook; and their two mini-adults, Peter Pan and CoCo.

Social Media Links

jaimewrightbooks.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @JaimeJoWright
Instagram – @JaimeJoWright
Twitter – @JaimeJoWright
Facebook – @JaimeJoWright
TikTok – @JaimeJoWright

Purchase Links

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Kingsumo Giveaway

https://kingsumo.com/g/snxgb6/the-lost-boys-of-barlowe-theater-by-jaime-jo-wright-book-gift-card