Former US Army detective Kate Holland spent years hiding from the world—and herself.
Now a small-town cop, the past catches up with Kate when the body of a fellow Army veteran is left along a backcountry road…in meticulously severed pieces.
Four years earlier, Kate spent eleven hours as a prisoner of war in Afghanistan. According to her Silver Star write-up, she singlehandedly took down eleven terrorists to avoid staying longer.
But Kate has no memory of the deaths, or the events that led up to them. And now, bizarre clues are cropping up in and around that crime scene—and others. Clues that appear to connect to that fateful day. Is the killer trying to tell her something?
Or is Kate finally losing her grip on reality?
As the body count rises, Kate must confront the reason she bolted from the Army—before she becomes the killer’s next victim.
THE GARBAGE MAN (A Hidden Valor Military Veteran/K-9 Mystery Book #1) by Candace Irving is an intense, gritty, emotional roller coaster mash-up of mystery, suspense, and thriller genres featuring a female small-town deputy on the hunt for a serial killer. I could not put this book down, but be warned, this is a book featuring a serial killer and it contains graphic violence.
Former US Army CID investigator Kate Holland saw several tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan seeing some of the worse violence man does to man. On her last trip outside of the wire, her group was captured and Kate spent eleven hours at the hands of terrorists. She escaped but has been suppressing the memory of what happened.
Now a small-town deputy in her hometown, Kate and her German Shepard, Ruger are trying to just get through each day until she is called to the horrific crime scene left by the road. The clues have ties to fellow vets and begin to make Kate believe this is tied to her captivity overseas, but is it true or is she losing her grip on reality?
With each new victim, Kate is forced to face her suppressed past and worry that she may be the next veteran to die.
This is one of those books that pulls you in and keeps you turning the pages. The plot comes at you from many different directions, but all the threads come together to a brilliant climax with PTSD, trauma, and revenge all interwoven throughout. Kate is a complex protagonist. She is strong on many levels, but also vulnerable. She is put through difficult situations, personally and professionally, throughout this story. Ruger is a wonderful sidekick, protector, and emotional support for Kate. This book has everything I look for in a gritty, intricately plotted genre mash-up with a memorable protagonist, and I am looking forward to the next book in the series.
I highly recommend this mystery/suspense/thriller mash-up!
***
About the Author
A former US Navy Lt., Candace Irving is the daughter of a librarian and a retired boatswain’s mate chief. Candace grew up in the Philippines, Germany, and all over the United States. Her senior year of high school, she enlisted in the US Army. Following basic training, she transferred to the Navy’s ROTC program at the University of Texas-Austin. While at UT, she spent a summer in Washington, DC, as a Congressional Intern. She also worked security for the UT Police. BA in Political Science in hand, Candace was commissioned as an ensign in the US Navy and sent to Surface Warfare Officer’s School to learn to drive warships. From there, she followed her father to sea.
Candace Irving writes gritty military thrillers. She is the author of the Deception Point Military Detective Thriller Series and the Hidden Valor Military Veterans/K9 Psychological Suspense Series. She also writes military romance and romantic suspense as Candace Irvin (without the “g”).
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for FROZEN LIVES (Coroner’s Daughter Mysteries Book #4) by Jennifer Graeser Dornbush on this Partner’s-In-Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, the author’s bio and social media links, and a Kingsumo giveaway.
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Book Description
Chicago surgeon Emily Hartford has never quite shaken off the dust of her hometown in Michigan. She may be a professional success and have a princely boyfriend in the Windy City, but she can’t seem to let go of being “the coroner’s daughter” from Freeport.
Once again, she finds herself pulled back upstate during a wintery late March when Jeremiah, the eleven year-old son of her best friend, Jo, goes missing on the frigid shores of Lake Michigan. Emily immediately joins the search for the boy.
To everyone’s relief, Jeremiah turns up days later, alive and unharmed. But tensions remain high, and suspicions of every sort continue to grow. Jeremiah’s account of his abduction doesn’t add up and Emily worries about Jo’s unraveling marriage. Jeremiah’s recovery, it turns out, is not the end of their terrifying tale. It’s only the beginning …
For moving among them is a devious, malevolent force. Sowing panic while seeking to fulfill his own twisted needs, this wolf in sheep’s clothing leaves a trail of rack and ruin, negligent to the damages in his wake … and the bodies he leaves behind.
Emily solidifies her role as coroner’s daughter when she puzzles out this madman’s chilling machinations. Risking everything dear to her, Emily goes the icy distance to end his killing spree.
Genre: thriller, suspense, female detective Published by: Blackstone Publishing Publication Date: October 29, 2024 Number of Pages: 350 ISBN: 9798212638364 Series: The Coroner’s Daughter Mysteries, 4
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
FROZEN LIVES (Coroner’s Daughter Mysteries Book #4) by Jennifer Graeser Dornbush is an edge-of-your-seat crime thriller/amateur sleuth mystery featuring Chicago surgeon Emily Hartford who gets pulled back to her small hometown of Freeport, Michigan when her best friend and son go missing. This is easily read as a standalone crime thriller and the author does a great job of intertwining Emily’s life from the previous books, so I never felt lost with her current relationships.
Emily is happy sharing a surgical practice in Chicago with her boyfriend, but she just cannot let go of her smalltown roots and all of her friends in Freeport, Michigan. She receives a call for help when her best friend Jo’s son, Jeremiah, goes missing. He is discovered a few days later unharmed, but the man who took him is still free. With accusations only ramping up the tensions in Jo’s crumbling marriage, Emily feels the need to support her friend.
As they all try to get back to a normal routine, no one knows the danger has not passed them by and it is about to become a race to find a twisted kidnapper and rescue Emily’s friends from a possible watery grave.
I could not put this book down and I am surprised that I had not read any of this series previously. If you have not either, this is a good book to jump in on because the author does a great job of giving the reader enough of Emily’s past and relationships so as not to be confusing. That said, I will be going back to read the previous three books because I enjoyed the author’s fast paced crime plot and hope the other three are just as interesting and well written. Even knowing who the kidnapper/killer is does not distract from the increasing tension and emotional involvement as the book races to a climax. I am excited to read the next book now that Emily has accepted the role she was born to have and to see what happens with her surprise personal ending.
I highly recommend this crime thriller/amateur sleuth mystery and look forward to reading more in this series.
***
Author Bio
The television or movie screen is the closest most people will ever come to witnessing the forensic world. But Jennifer Dornbush was raised in it. As the daughter of a small-town medical examiner whose office was in their home. There were body parts in the fridge. She investigated her first fatality, an airplane crash, when she was 8 years old. Picking up pieces of skull with her father who simply saw it as an anatomy lesson. The first of many coroner lessons she experienced over two decades.
After exploring journalism and high school teaching, Jennifer turned seriously to screenwriting where she began to connect her coroner world to her writing. She sought out a degree at the Forensic Science Academy in Los Angeles to gain more forensic training and earned a unique kinship with LA’s top CSIs, fingerprint specialists, DNA scientists, and detectives.
To share her love of forensics with the writing world, she authored the top selling non-fiction authoritative book, Forensic Speak, used by not only by show-runners and writers, but also crime investigators and law enforcement. She created an Amazon top selling mystery novel series, The Coroner’s Daughter, which she is currently developing as a series for TV. Her crime thriller, Hole in the Woods, is currently optioned for screen. She is a contributor to mystery anthologies, Hotel California and Thriller. She has also penned two true crime books.
As a screenwriter Jennifer wrote the theatrically released film and novel, God Bless the Broken Road (2018), adapted a popular YA novel to script, and sold a children’s show. She is currently developing TV drama series and feature films with various productions companies. As a forensic consultant, she is frequently asked to consult with TV writers on shows such as: Bull, Conviction, Hawaii Five-O, Leverage, Suits, and Rectify. She teaches screenwriting and mentors aspiring writers.
Jennifer is a member of the Writers’ Guild of America, Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, Crime Writers Association, & the FBI Citizen’s Academy Alumni.
London based lawyer Kyra Gibson returns to Martha’s Vineyard and the beach house she inherited for an extended summer holiday. Still reeling from her father’s brutal murder and the role she and the handsome detective, Tarek Collins played in uncovering it, Kyra is hopeful for some peace and quiet. But when a summer squall reveals the wreckage of the pirate ship, Keres, rich with rumored treasure, all hopes of peace are dashed. Conservationists and treasure hunters descend on the exclusive island to lay claim to the ship. When two of the salvagers are killed, Kyra and Tarek’s friend, pub owner and amateur historian, Gully Gould is arrested for murder.
Determined to prove Gully’s innocence, Kyra, Tarek, and reformed playboy Chase Hawthorn team up to clear their friend’s name. But someone wants the treasure for themselves. And with someone willing to kill for it, there is more than just danger lurking along the island’s caves and coves. There is death.
THE WRAITH’S RETURN (Martha’s Vineyard Murders Book #2) by Raemi A. Ray is the second book in the Martha’s Vineyard Murders series with Kyra returning to Martha’s Vineyard for an extended summer holiday and finds herself and her island friends helping one of their own accused of murder. This story can be read as a standalone, but I feel the books are best read in order as the main characters continually evolved in their relationships from book one.
This book has murder, conservationists vs. fisherman, islanders vs. vacationers, and a historical pirate story, and treasure hunters all combined in this mystery read. I am not sure if it is because there is so much going on, which should have made for many red herrings, but when I reached the end, I felt the killer was just there with no build up of tension or foreboding until very close to the end. All the information and side characters were interesting, but at times slowed the plot pace. I love Kyra, Tarek, and Chase and find them all to be interesting characters. I look forward to following them in future books, but I have to say that I liked the mystery plot in book one, A Chain of Pearls, better. The characters pulled me through this story more than the mystery plot.
Overall, a little bit of a let down after such a great debut.
***
Author Bio
Raemi A. Ray’s travels to Martha’s Vineyard and around the world inspire her stories. She lives outside Boston. When not writing or traveling she earns her keep as the personal assistant to the resident house demons, Otto and Dolph Lundgren.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for KNIFE RIVER (The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series) by Baron R. Birtcher 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!
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Book Description
A sheriff fighting to keep the peace in 1970s Oregon faces a shocking secret from his town’s past, in this crime thriller from the author of Reckoning.
There are rules in the West no matter what era you were born in, and it’s up to lawman Ty Dawson to make sure they’re followed in the valley he calls home. The people living on this unforgiving land keep to themselves and are wary of the modern world’s encroachment into their quiet lives.
So it’s not without some suspicion that Dawson confronts a newcomer to the region: a record producer who has built a music studio in an isolated compound. His latest project is a collaboration with a famous young rock star named Ian Swann, recording and filming his sessions for a movie. An amphitheater for a live show is being built on the land, giving Dawson flashbacks to the violent Altamont concert. Not on his watch.
But even beefed up security can’t stop a disaster that’s been over a decade in the making. All it takes is one horrific case bleeding its way into the present to prove that the good ol’ days spawned a brand of evil no one wants to revisit . . .
Genre: Crime Thriller Published by: Open Road Media Publication Date: April 23, 2024 Number of Pages: 338 ISBN: 9781504086523 (ISBN10: 150408652X) Series: The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
KNIFE RIVER (The Sheriff Ty Dawson Crime Thriller Series) by Baron Birtcher is an intricately plotted crime thriller with buried appalling crimes and secrets from the sheriff’s small town’s past that are about to be revealed and become the cause of a horrific crime in the present. This is the fourth book in the Ty Dawson series, but each is easily read as a standalone story.
Sheriff Ty Dawson is a Korean War veteran, rancher, and sheriff in the 1970’s small town of Meridian, Oregon. Ty discovers a new music studio compound has been built outside town. A famous young rock star is recording a new album and filming his sessions. It will culminate in the filming of a live concert built in a new outdoor amphitheater. Ty does not want the headaches and crimes related to a large intrusion of outsiders, but he has no choice.
What Ty does not know is the singer has ulterior motives for picking this location and is in danger from someone who does not want crimes from the past to resurface.
This is a story that pulled me in, and I did not put the book down until the end. I enjoy that it is set in the 1970’s and I especially like the references regarding the music scene and musicians. The flashback scenes to the buried secrets were interwoven throughout the present in the story and just kept ratcheting up the tension to the climax when the two collide. Sheriff Ty Dawson is a fully developed character of moral conviction with a love of his family, friends, and town, but he is not blind to the changes happening in the world. There is just something in Mr. Birtcher’s writing style that pulls me into each book in this series and makes me believe Ty is real and could walk right off the page.
I highly recommend this exceptional crime thriller addition to the series, the entire series, and this author!
***
Excerpt
Prelude:
FACING WEST
SOME SAY THAT to be born into a thing is to be blind to half of it. Oftentimes, the things we seek and discover for ourselves are those we hold most dear.
Any cattleman will tell you that a ranch is a living thing. Not only the livestock that graze the meadowland, but the blood that nourishes the hungry soil, the trees that inhale the wind, and the rain that carves runnels into the hardpan that, in time, grow into rivers. The Diamond D is no different in that respect, some would even say it was the beating heart of Meriwether County, Oregon.
As both a stockman and the sheriff of this county, I believe this to be true.
But the events that unfolded in the autumn of 1964 cast a cloud across that land. Not just across my ranch, but the entire valley, though they didn’t bear their terrible fruit until nearly a dozen years later, in the spring of 1976. The incidents still haunt me, though others paid a steeper price than I; some with their lives, or the lives of their loved ones, while some forfeit their sanity, and still others with their souls.
That is where this story begins.
CHAPTER ONE
LAMBS AND LIONS hold no sway over the springtime here in Meriwether County. Some years it will snow through mid-May, other times the golden sun rides high and bright, and the river flows fast, clear and deep with high-country melt on the first day of March. Most years, it’s both, with Mother Nature keeping her whims to herself until she alone decides to turn them loose upon us.
But this particular Saturday morning was unusually quiet, not even a breath of breeze stirring the leaves of the cottonwoods that grew thick and untamed along the creekbank. I was standing outside on the gallery, sipping my coffee as I leaned on the porch rail, watching my wife, Jesse, hammer the last nail into a birdbox she had made. She must have felt my eyes on her, as she looked up from her work and smiled. A few moments later, she stepped up the stairs to where I stood and kissed me on the cheek, smelling of sawdust and lemongrass tea.
“The bluebirds are back,” she said. “I just saw them.”
“You haven’t lost your knack for building those things.”
“Plenty of practice. You got home late last night.”
I had spent the previous day transporting a man all the way from Lewiston up to the Portland lockup to await his trial. He stood accused of murdering his own wife and young child. It had been a long, depressing day, and by the time I completed the intake paperwork, locked up the substation in Meridian, and finally drove home to the ranch, Jesse was already asleep.
But this morning, everything in her expression seemed overflowing with hope and expectation. Springtime was her season and always had been.
“Want a hand putting that thing up?” I asked.
She replied by handing it to me, together with the hammer.
She watched me hang the birdbox on a post beside the vegetable garden, outside the kitchen window where I knew she’d spend her quiet mornings secretly observing the bluebirds as they built their nest and reared their brood.
“You plan on helping Caleb pick the new cowboys today?” She asked me when I came back inside.
It was the time of year when we hired a few temporary hands for Spring Works, when we’d round-up the cattle and calves from every corner of the ranch; we’d vet, brand and sort the livestock, and mend a perpetual string of breaks in the wire along miles of fenceline before we turned the herd out to the pastures for summer grazing. The Diamond D employed three permanent cowboys in addition to me and old Caleb Wheeler—our foreman for more than three decades—but with 63,000 deeded acres and another 14,000 under a Land Management lease, Spring Works was more work than the five of us could handle in the short span of time required to get it done. Every year a couple dozen hopeful itinerant riders, ropers, rodeo bums and saddle-tramps would answer the call for a temporary employment opportunity, and every year Caleb Wheeler got more riled up about what he viewed as the eroding quality of the contemporary American cowboy. He’d cuss and grump and holler about it, but he’d end up settling on three or four hands he reckoned could help us get the job done with a minimum of aggravation.
“I’m staying out of it this year,” I said, and Jesse grinned. “Figured I’d lay in a cord or two for the woodshed instead, before the weather gets too hot.”
“I saw some deadfall down by Corcoran’s,” she said.
“That’s where I was headed.”
“Make you some lunch to take with you?”
“I don’t intend to be out that long.”
“Good to hear,” she said, and winked at me before she turned, and stepped inside the house.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later I was straddling a fallen spruce, angling the chainsaw to buck the trunk into three-foot rounds that I’d later split into quarters with the long-handled axe. The solitary labor, the sweat staining my shirt, and the burn down deep inside my muscles were a welcome balm after the week I’d had, and the air was rife with the smell of pine tar, sap and chain oil. I looked up and caught some movement in the distance, where the BLM forest gave onto an open range already knee deep with wildflowers and whipgrass. I recognized Tom Jenkins’ roping horse moving hellbent-for-leather across the flats, with young Tom leaning across her withers, one hand on the reins and the other holding his hat in place on top of his head. His mount was an admirable animal, a grullo Quarter Horse that stood nearly seventeen hands, fast and thick through the chest. Tom Jenkins handled her well, and he was beelining in my direction like he had something on his mind.
I killed the power on the chainsaw and set it in the bed of the military surplus jeep I use when I do ranch work, stepped over to the fence and took a splash of water from the canteen I’d hung in the shade of a young cedar. I didn’t have to wait long before Tom pulled up in a skidding stop inside a cloud of dust, throwing a cascade of torn earth and pebbles through the barbed strands of the wire.
“Mr. Dawson,” he said and touched a finger to his hat brim, sounding nearly as breathless as his horse. “I was hoping that was you.”
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I asked, but suspected I already knew the answer.
When I’d first met Tom Jenkins, he was nothing but a kid with a limp handshake, no eye-contact, and the familiar slope-shouldered gait and posture of the typical aimless teenaged slacker. At that time, he’d been well on his way to serious trouble, the variety and scope of which would have landed him in a six-by-eight jail cell where the other inmates would have eaten him alive.
He is the nephew of my neighbor to the south of me, Snoose Corcoran, whose sister had sent the kid up here from California’s central valley to his uncle’s ranch in southeastern Oregon in hopes of putting some distance between young Tom and his unquestionably poor choices of acquaintances. Ill-equipped to deal with the boy himself, Snoose begged me to take the kid on as a maverick, and I’d reluctantly agreed. After six months working side by side with trail hardened cowboys on the Diamond D young Tom Jenkins’ attitude had been readjusted, straightening both his spine and fortitude. Now, at barely 18 years of age, Tom had assumed the reins of the floundering Corcoran cattle operation from his uncle Snoose, who had been gradually disappearing into a bottle.
“Cow and a calf went missing from my place,” Tom answered. “Fence busted by the westward line, and I figured them two mighta headed for the water.”
My ranch hands ended up nicknaming the kid “Silver,” after he’d astonished us all by stepping up and winning a silver buckle for the Diamond D in the team roping event at the annual rodeo. I knew Tom secretly treasured the handle they’d bestowed, wore it like a medal, but I never spoke it; that was between my men and him.
“Where’s your uncle?” I asked.
His shrug spoke sorrowful volumes.
“So, what set you hightailing over here to see me, son?” I asked. “What’s the trouble? Besides the missing beeves.”
“I was up there on the other side of the tree line,” he said. He twisted sideways in his saddle, took off his hat and gestured with it toward a distant stretch of blue sky. “There was an eagle making low passes over the meadow, so I stopped to watch it for a minute. It was so still and quiet out there, I could hear the eagle calling out while it was gliding on the thermals.”
“You don’t see something like that every day,” I said. “Not even out here in the boondocks.”
“No sir, that’s a fact,” Tom said. “But, while I sat there watching that creature flying, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, a helicopter come buzzing across the ridge, you know the one…”
“Big stone bluff, looks like somebody cut it down the middle with a KA-BAR knife.”
“That’s the one,” he said. “Well, that chopper came in fast, and went straight toward that bird…” The young man’s voice trailed off, his face contorted like he’d encountered a foul odor. “They circled it as it flew, like they were teasing it. Two men inside the—whattaya call it?”
“Cockpit.”
“Yeah, the cockpit. Then they started closing in on him, chasing it. The guy in the passenger seat had a rifle in his hands. I could see the barrel sticking out.”
What Tom was describing to me was not only a despicable and loathsome act, it was a serious crime. The mere harassment of a protected species is a federal offense; hunting and killing one merely for the sick thrill of it was another matter entirely.
“What happened, Tom?”
He swallowed drily, shook his head and looked down at the ground between us.
“He shot that bird right out of the sky, sir,” he said. “That eagle wasn’t even doing nothing, just gliding circles on the wind, and those assholes—sorry, sir—they shot him cold dead.”
I could imagine the creature’s confused and lonely cry as it spiraled down, bleeding, terrified and helpless, to the earth.
“You pretty sure about the location, Tom?”
“About four, five miles thataway, near the bluff, where the river makes that sharp bend to the south.”
“Did you get a look at either of the men?”
“Naw, they were too far away and moving pretty fast. But I got a good look at the whirlybird.”
I asked him for a description of the helicopter, and I knew right away he was referring to a Bell H-13, known to soldiers as a “Sioux.” They’d been in common use as scouting and medical evacuation aircraft by the military. I’d seen them every day when I was stationed in Korea.
“Like the choppers on that TV show?” I asked.
“Yes, sir. Exactly like on M*A*S*H.”
“Big glass bubble on the front? No doors? Looks kinda like a dragonfly?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see any numbers written on it? On the tail? Or maybe on the underside?”
Tom Jenkins pressed his hat back on his head and gazed up at the empty sky beyond the forest, like he could return that beautiful animal to where it rightfully belonged through sheer force of his will. The high peaks beyond the meadow were streaked with deep blue shadows in the sunlight, their cloughs and gorges washed in purple and topped with snow so white it hurt your eyes.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I don’t remember seeing numbers or anything like that.”
His face took on the aspect of defeat, as though some personal failure had cost the animal its life.
“You did good, Tom. You did the right thing coming to me straight away. There was nothing else you could have done.”
He nodded once, his lips pressed tight, and he leaned down to adjust a stirrup that needed no adjustment.
“You want some help finding your cows?” I asked, thinking he might appreciate the company.
“I can do it, sir, but thank you. I can haze ’em back home on my own.”
“You gotta get eyeballs on the critters first. I can help you, son.”
“Thank you just the same, Mr. Dawson… Sheriff… Hell, I don’t even know what to call you.”
His expression softened for the first time since he’d showed up, a brief and fleeting smile, then his focus drifted far away again.
“Something else, Tom?”
“Just wondering.”
“Wondering what?”
“Do you think you can catch those guys who shot that bird?”
“I’m going to try my damndest.”
His eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
“What’ll happen to ’em if you do?”
I drew a bandana from the back pocket of my jeans, removed my hat, and dried the sweat that had been leaking from beneath the band.
“It’s been against the law to kill an eagle since the 1940s. If you’re not an Indian, you can’t even possess a single feather. If you get caught, you pay a steep fine and then they send you off to jail. If you’re a rancher, you could lose the leases on your land.”
Tom turned his gaze back on me, and I noted for the hundredth time that this young man no longer bore any resemblance to the person he had been on the day he first arrived here from California.
“That punishment don’t seem tough enough,” Tom said. “Not for what I seen ’em do.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He clucked softly to his horse, and reined her back in the direction from which they’d come.
“I’d better get a move on,” he said.
“Be careful out there, son,” I said to his retreating back, but my words were lost in the distance.
***
Author Bio
Baron Birtcher is the LA TIMES and IMBA BESTSELLING author of the hardboiled Mike Travis series (Roadhouse Blues, Ruby Tuesday, Angels Fall, and Hard Latitudes), the award-winning Ty Dawson series (South California Purples, Fistful Of Rain, Reckoning, and Knife River), as well as the critically-lauded stand-alone, RAIN DOGS.
Baron is a winner of the SILVER FALCHION AWARD, and the WINNER of 2018’s Killer Nashville READERS CHOICE AWARD, as well as 2019’s BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR for Fistful Of Rain.
He has also had the honor of having been named a finalist for the NERO AWARD, the LEFTY AWARD, the FOREWORD INDIE AWARD, the 2016 BEST BOOK AWARD, the Pacific Northwest’s regional SPOTTED OWL AWARD, and the CLAYMORE AWARD.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for STRUCK DEAD (A Forensic Instincts Novel Book #10) by Andrea Kane 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!
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Book Description
The fragile line between life and death… Families that will never be the same…
When a tragic hit-and-run takes the life of a hardworking family man, multi-millionaire Christopher Hillington becomes the prime suspect, and the whole city of New York alights with speculation as to what happened.
But before the NYPD can establish Hillington’s guilt, he himself is brutally murdered in his own home. As he lays dying, he scrawls the name Casey Woods with his own blood, and the Forensic Instincts team is drawn into a complex mystery that has placed its president in the sights of a desperate killer.
A millionaire’s life is full of secrets and suspects. So as the baffled NYPD investigates Casey for the murder, and the body-count ratchets up, Casey herself becomes another potential victim. The FI team’s hardcore investigation has them twisting and turning through suspects and secrets, where the stakes intensify―and so does the collateral damage. As Casey and the team get closer to finding the killer, the unthinkable happens, and the life of one of FI’s own hangs in the blood-stained balance.
They say dead men tell no tales, but blood doesn’t lie. Peeling back layer after layer of deception, the team will cross whatever lines are necessary to solve the case, get justice for the families, and make their team whole again…unless the relentless killer gets to them first.
Genre: Suspense Thriller Published by: Bonnie Meadow Publishing Publication Date: March 2024 Number of Pages: 384 ISBN: 9781682320631 (ISBN10: 1682320634) Series: Forensic Instincts (#10)
***
My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
STRUCK DEAD (A Forensic Instincts Mystery Book #10) by Andrea Kane is another suspenseful mystery story featuring the brilliant team from Forensic Instincts. While each book in the series has a unique crime/mystery to solve that can be read as a complete standalone crime plot, each book also continues to further develop the main characters’ personal lives over time, and I personally enjoy reading them in order.
A multi-millionaire, Christopher Hillington is the prime suspect in a hit-skip that kills a man. All of New York is speculating about his guilt or innocence when Casey Woods gets a call from his lawyer to come immediately to the Hillington home. Casey is shown the bludgeoned body of Hillington and on the desk written in his blood is “Casey Woods”.
With a multitude of suspects and secrets, but few leads, Forensic Instincts is working to unravel all the threads of this case. The stakes increase when Casey is threatened. The team is fighting to uncover layer upon layer of deceit as the killer gets to one of the team first.
I always enjoy revisiting the team at Forensic Instincts and this addition to the series is one of my favorites. The mystery plot is intricately woven between two crimes and three families. I liked that the two crimes kept me guessing and were solved at different times in the book. The most intense part of the book for me was when I might lose one of the main characters. The plot is fast paced with the investigations, and it is not predictable. The twist at the end should bring an entertaining new dynamic to the team that I am looking forward to reading.
I highly recommend this addition to the Forensic Instincts series.
***
Excerpt
1
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Tribeca, New York
Main conference room
Monday, 9:40 a.m.
Casey Woods, the president of Forensic Instincts, stood at the head of the oval table, her jaw having dropped. She pressed her iPhone closer to her ear, and tried to reconcile herself, both to who the caller was, and the reason for her call.
She certainly didn’t sound like the Angela King that Casey knew. And why in the name of heaven was she reaching out to Casey, of all people?
Angela repeated her original demand: “I need you to meet me now—as in drop everything and get over here.” This time her voice was commanding but shaken.
Shaken? Angela King?
Casey’s mind raced.
Angela was a high-powered and aggressive criminal defense attorney at Harris, Porter, & Donnelly. A virtual barracuda. Rumor had it that she was next up to make partner. No surprise. She successfully defended the richest of the rich, from corporate executives, to wealthy entrepreneurs, to “businessmen” with rumored links to Organized Crime—a fact she chose to overlook since they were affluent enough to pay her fees. She and Forensic Instincts were on opposite sides of law enforcement. They’d battled it out more than once the criminals that FI had helped catch becoming the very criminals Angela would defend.
Needless to say, the FI team and Angela weren’t friends.
And yet, here she was, calling Casey on an urgent, time-is-of-the-essence matter—one she seemed incredibly high-strung about.
“Casey?” Angela repeated. “Did you hear me?”
Casey lowered herself into a chair. “I heard you. What is this about? And why me, of all people?”
“You’ll see for yourself,” Angela replied. She rattled off the address of a luxury skyscraper on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. “Hurry. I’m jeopardizing my career by waiting to call 9-1-1. I can’t wait much longer. But you have to view the scene first and later provide me with some answers. No more questions. Just come. I have a key to the building’s back door. I’ll let you in. We’ll use the freight elevator.”
Casey’s common sense was urging her to refuse. 9-1-1 meant a crime scene, and questions meant involving her. Both those things were screaming for her to stay away. She pushed aside that inner voice. She was too intrigued to refuse. “I’m on my way.”
She shrugged into her wool winter coat as she called John Nickels, Forensic Instincts’ number one on their security team. Then, she blew out the front door, not waiting to fill the FI team in on where she was going. There was no time. Plus, they’d only try to talk her out of it.
Holiday decorations were glistening everywhere, and tiny snowflakes danced in the air.
Casey didn’t notice any of it.
John pulled around a few minutes later, and Casey hopped into the car, gave him the address, and urged him to hurry.
With a brief nod, John was on his way, navigating the FDR Drive in record time. He got Casey to her destination in thirteen minutes. He dropped her off around back, far from the doorman’s view. Then, he waited to return her to the brownstone once her meeting was over, as per her instructions.
Angela was pacing inside the building, and opened the door to let Casey in the moment she saw her. No matter how dire the occasion, Angela always looked stunning. An Armani cobalt blue pants suit that set off her dark skin, matching four-inch Louboutin heels, and long wavy black hair styled at the highest end salon. She carried herself like a queen. In short, she was a knock-out.
Now she looked more rattled than Casey had ever seen her.
“Let’s go,” she said. She led the way to the freight elevator, where she and Casey rode up.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Casey stated flatly.
Angela didn’t answer. She glanced at her Apple Watch, her gaze snapping up as the elevator stopped on the twenty-first floor.
The doors slid open.
Angela paused only long enough to ensure that Casey was right behind her. Then, she strode down the hall, made a turn, and halted in front of Apartment Twenty-One B. She unlocked the door, pulled Casey inside, and faced her to offer the first few words of an explanation.
“This is the home of my client, Christopher Hillington. We had a nine-thirty AM meeting scheduled to be held here.”
Casey’s brows rose. Christopher Hillington was a renowned and phenomenally wealthy managing director of the private equity firm YNE. He was also a major suspect in a vehicular homicide, and Casey knew through various news sources that he’d been questioned several times by the NYPD and was on the verge of arrest.
“I see you know of him,” Angela said. “Given the circumstances, I’m not surprised.” She gestured toward a breathtaking sunken living room. “In here.”
Casey bit back her question about what Angela had just said. She sensed she was about to get her answers. So she remained silent.
The two women stepped down and Angela stood to a side and waited.
Casey got the full view immediately.
Christopher Hillington’s body was crumpled on the Oriental carpet beside his desk, blood pooling out around him. His head was bashed in, clearly having been struck multiple times by a heavy object. The bloodied sledge hammer lying next to the body was obviously the murder weapon. Judging from the damage done, the killer had been, not only determined, but brutal.
Casey eyeballed the scene, feeling sickened as well as confused. She was about to ask Angela what this horrific scene had to do with her when she spotted the letters, written in blood, on the lower edge of the desk, right beside Hillington’s outstretched arm.
She walked over, careful not to touch anything, squatted down, and squinted. The two words were completely legible, and they made Casey’s blood run cold.
Casey Woods.
***
Photographr Information
Stevenson/Lupke
1924 Rittenhouse Square
Philadelphia, Pa 19103
215-627-3777
amandastudio@yahoo.com
Author Bio
Andrea Kane is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of thirty-two novels, including eighteen psychological thrillers and fourteen historical romantic suspense titles. With her signature style, Kane creates unforgettable characters and confronts them with life-threatening danger. As a master of suspense, she weaves them into exciting, carefully-researched stories, pushing them to the edge—and keeping her readers up all night. Kane’s first contemporary suspense thriller, Run for Your Life, became an instant New York Times bestseller. She followed with a string of bestselling psychological thrillers including No Way Out, Twisted and Drawn in Blood. Her latest in the highly successful Forensic Instincts series, Struck Dead, showcases the dynamic, eclectic team of investigators as they hunt down a desperate killer who’s threatened one of their own. The first showcase of Forensic Instincts’ talents came with the New York Times bestseller, The Girl Who Disappeared Twice, followed by The Line Between Here and Gone, The Stranger You Know, The Silence That Speaks, The Murder That Never Was, A Face To Die For, Dead In A Week, No Stone Unturned, At Any Cost, and Struck Dead. Kane’s beloved historical romantic suspense novels include My Heart’s Desire, Samantha, Echoes in the Mist, and Wishes in the Wind. With a worldwide following of passionate readers, her books have been published in more than twenty languages. Kane lives in New Jersey with her family. She’s an avid crossword puzzle solver and a diehard Yankees fan. Author Hometown – Warren, New Jersey
This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Andrea Kane. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
The giveaway is for: 1 – $20 Amazon.com Gift Card, US Only
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for ECHO FROM A BAYOU: One Man’s Journey to Hunt Down His Murderer by J. Luke Bennecke on this Partner’s In Crime Virtual Book Tour.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Murder. Treasure. A supernatural twist.
John Bastian is plunged into a dangerous journey to uncover the truth about his past life after a freak skiing accident unlocks hidden memories. With unshakable visions of a brutal attack, the cursed Lafayette treasure, and a captivating redhead, John searches to find answers and confront the man who murdered him. On a perilous path and with a hurricane fast approaching, John fights for his survival and the safety of those he loves, threats haunting him at every turn.
Will he find redemption, or be consumed by an unquenchable thirst for revenge?
Genre: Suspense Thriller Published by: Jaytech Publishing Publication Date: August 2023 Number of Pages: 400 ISBN: 9780965771559
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My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
ECHO FROM A BAYOU: One Man’s Journey to Hunt Down His Murder by J. Luke Bennecke is an exciting mix of suspense/action thriller/treasure hunt adventure and reincarnation. This is a standalone story that kept me turning the pages well into the night.
John Bastian awakes after a three-day coma after a skiing accident with memories that are not his own. He learns the memories belong to Jack Bachman from Louisiana who was married to a red-headed beauty.
He is compelled to take a trip to Louisiana to follow his memories, find the red-headed beauty, and find the man who murdered him over a buried treasure. And then there is a hurricane.
This is an intriguing look into reincarnation, betrayal, murder, and true love all combined into an action-adventure thriller. All the characters are fully fleshed and the descriptions of all the locations throughout the story add to believability. I did have a bit of difficulty with the past and present differences if I did not pay attention to the chapter headings, but eventually it all came together. There are plenty of plot twists and surprises throughout.
This is an intriguing thriller and more.
***
Excerpt
Chapter 1
John Bastian
November 8, 2016 – Mammoth Mountain, CA
Never had I seen so many angry trees in one place.
Through a gondola window covered with spider cracks, ominous mountains loomed in the darkened distance. One peak in particular, a white, snowcapped giant, laughed at me with his frozen face and pointed pines, pompous with knowledge he had risen to life, fallen, and rebirthed his dominance over countless millennia.
Ignoring the familiar tug to spiral down another rabbit hole of negativity, I instead envisioned myself racing down a crazy-steep, treeless, triple black diamond slope at the summit of Mammoth Mountain: Huevos Grande.
Passengers continued to pack inside the already-full car, oblivious to our collective need to breathe oxygen, already limited in the high-altitude air that smelled of sweaty gym socks.
“And I don’t see you wearin’ no helmet,” Kevin said.
“Enough about Sonny Bono already, that was a long time ago,” I said, glancing down at Kevin, who, at a foot shorter than me, sported matching black ski pants and jacket with a rainbowcolored voodoo doll embroidered on the back. The snowboarding boots boosted his height by two inches, bringing his height up to five feet five inches.
My closest friend for the last two decades and best man at the wedding of my disaster of a marriage, we’d met at track practice during senior year of high school.
With my last shred of patience wearing thin, I waited with Kevin in the front corner of the room-sized orange cube, near the sliding doors. Skis propped and steadied with one hand, I gave his down-insulated shoulder a friendly punch with the other and said, “Stay positive, man. We need as much optimism as we can handle.”
“Glad you finally gettin’ your head outta them clouds,” Kevin said. “Sooner you forgive Margaret, sooner you can get on with your life, Johnny Jackass.”
“You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“Exactly.”
Two months ago, he’d suggested this trip to some of California’s highest slopes in order to check off the last item on our mid-life crisis bucket list.
One final group of skiers jammed inside, jerking the box that would soon glide us up to the peak of peaks. My heart flopped around inside my chest as I ignored the instinctive urge to go back to our room and down a double bourbon. Instead, I adjusted my black beanie, giving Kevin a forced smile. A tinge of alcohol withdrawal headache pinged my noggin. I dug out two Tylenol gel caps from my inner jacket pocket, popped them into my mouth and swallowed without water.
I tightened my lips and turned my head, glancing through a different gondola window, up to the 11,000-foot peak riddled with wide, white, invincible slopes.
But a shiver crawled up from my legs to my neck, deflating any remnants of confidence.
I tapped open a weather app on my phone. “This might be the last run. That huge storm front’s almost here.”
“Word.”
We both enjoyed the occasional humorous embellishment of stereotypical hip-hop culture, even though Kevin had two masters’ degrees from Berkeley, one in American history and another in theater arts.
After separating from Margaret three years ago, the entire divorce process continually marinated in my head, but I wanted—needed—to lick my mental wounds, get on with my life, and find a new purpose. Hence my agreeing to this trip.
Heads bobbed among the other snow enthusiasts, along with a colorful assortment of mirrored goggles and insulated garments. My height allowed me an unobstructed view of my fellow sardines.
“Think of all the times they said it was supposed to rain back home in Newport Beach,” I said. “Nothing. Just a few drops here and there. Damned drought’s horrible.”
A man with dark, heavy-lidded eyes stood five feet away from us in the rear of the gondola, wearing a baby blue sweater and black jeans. Then for no apparent reason, he started tapping his forehead repeatedly on the gondola wall.
Dude wore no ski jacket.
No ski pants.
Odd.
***
Author Bio
J. Luke Bennecke is a veteran civil engineer with a well-spent career helping people by improving Southern California roadways. He has a civil engineering degree, an MBA, a private pilot’s certificate, and is a partner in an engineering firm. He enjoys philanthropy and awards scholarships annually to high school seniors.
In addition to his debut novel, bestselling and award-winning thriller Civil Terror: Gridlock, Bennecke has written several other novels and screenplays, a creative process he thoroughly enjoys. His second Jake Bendel thriller, Waterborne, was published in 2021 by Black Rose Writing and received several awards. Echo from a Bayou is his latest suspense thriller with a supernatural twist, available now.
Bennecke resides in Southern California with his wife of 32+ years and three spunky cats. In his leisure time he enjoys traveling, playing golf, voiceover acting, and spending time with his grown daughters.
