Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: The Boy In The Photo by Nicole Trope

Book Description

She becomes aware of the silence at the other end of the line. A prickling sensation crawls up her arms, her heart rate speeds up. ‘Found who?’ she asks, slowly, carefully, deliberately.
‘They found Daniel.’

Six years ago

Megan waits at the school gates for her six-year-old son, Daniel. As children come and go, the playground emptying, panic bubbles inside her. Daniel is nowhere to be found.

According to his teacher, Daniel’s father, Greg, has picked up his son. Except Greg and Megan are no longer together. After years of being controlled by her cruel husband, Megan has finally found the courage to divorce him. Hands trembling, she dials his number, but the line is dead.

Six years later

Megan is feeding baby daughter, Evie, when she gets the call she has dreamt about for years. Daniel has walked into a police station in a remote town just a few miles away. Her son is alive – and he’s coming home.

But their joyful family reunion does not go to plan. His room may have been frozen in time, with his Cookie Monster poster and stack of Lego under the bed, but Daniel is no longer the sweet little boy Megan remembers.

Cold and distant, Daniel is grieving the death of his father, blaming Megan for his loss and rejecting his family. And as Megan struggles to connect with the son she no longer recognises as her own, she begins to realize that Daniel has a secret. A secret that could destroy their family and put them in terrible danger.

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Elise’s Thoughts

The Boy In The Photo by Nicole Trope is a suspenseful read. This Australian author makes her US debut and does it with a bang. She takes readers on an emotional roller coaster involving love, hurt, heartbreak, and joy.

The story is told in two parts: six years ago, and six years later. Megan Kade divorced her abusive husband, Greg Stanthorpe. Intending to get Megan back or to hurt her he kidnaps their son and goes off the grid.

Six years later the boy, Daniel, appears at a New South Wales police station, reporting that his dad died in a fire. Daniel is distant, volatile, and in some ways resistant to Megan. He believes all the horror stories told to him by his father. The flashbacks of how both Megan and Daniel feel in the six-year gap emphasizes their grief and apprehension.

This emotionally harrowing story has many twists and turns. It is so heart wrenching for both Megan and Daniel and the reader as well. People should make sure they have some time because they will not want to put this book down.

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Elise’s Author Interview

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

Nicole Trope: The idea started with a story on the news about a woman who was fighting to get her children back from Lebanon. He ex-husband had taken them to visit his family and refused to come home. She ended up hiring an organization who specializes in grabbing your child away from the abducting spouse and returning them to you. The plan failed and she was left distraught. The courts in Lebanon were of no help because the country is not part of the Hague Convention on child abduction. I wondered how long it would be until she was able to see her children again and how they would turn out if they ever returned to Australia. They had been taken from one culture into another and were still very young. I tried to imagine how their father would have explained that they were never going to see their mother again and I realized that he must have only had his own interests at heart.

EC: How would you describe Greg, the ex-husband, besides pure evil with no redeeming qualities?

NT: He a narcissist in the most classic sense. He is self -absorbed and can only see the world and those in it in relation to him and how they affect him. He lacks empathy and the ability to see anyone else’s point of view. His own pain is obvious to him but not the pain suffered by his wife and child. They only exist in relation to him and his needs. Control is a big part of who he is as well. When Megan and Greg first met, he was charming and lovely. Narcissists make you feel you are the center of their world and only when things get difficult do you realize that the only people, they really love are themselves.

EC: It is inconceivable that anyone who loves their child would act like him. Please describe his lies:

NT: Inconceivable but not something that is not played out in family courts across the world. Greg planned to take his child from the moment he realized his hold over Megan was gone. To facilitate that he began a campaign of lies against Megan, telling Daniel that the divorce was her choice, that he was the victim, and that she had stopped loving him.

EC: Life can be shattered in an instant?

NT: We see that every day. A car accident, a diagnosis, a lost baby, a missing child. I’ve always seen life as somewhat precarious. The idea that you can grow a child inside you, carry it to term, and give birth to a healthy baby seems simple and yet it’s a miracle. Keeping your child safe in today’s world sometimes feels impossible. When Megan realizes that Daniel is gone, that he’s been taken by his father, her whole world shifts.

EC: How would you describe Daniel-then and now?

NT: Daniel was a sweet little boy, adored by his mother and just an ordinary six-year-old. At twelve he is confused, distant, aggressive, and filled with uncertainty at his place in the world. He struggles with trusting his mother after everything he has been told.

EC: Please discuss parental alienation?

NT: Parental alienation is a term used when one parent turns their child against the other parent. As in the book, it’s mostly a subtle form of abuse because the parent doing the alienating would not simply say, ‘I hate your mother she’s awful.’ What is done is a consistent breaking down of the child’s faith in the other parent. ‘Your mother could have called you today, but she didn’t want to. I would let you do this but your mother wouldn’t. No one loves you like I do. Your mother is too busy with work to talk to you. You make your mother angry.’

EC: What about parental abduction?

NT: Parental abduction is when one parent steals a child from another parent. It’s kidnapping but I’m sure that in some cases the child may not even know it’s happening. It’s a form of abuse and control over the other person in the relationship. It’s a way to make a former partner pay for hurting you by using the child as a pawn. Men or women who are abusive and controlling often use their children as pawns when the relationship breaks down. The child is seen as something to own rather than a person with any rights. Greg took away what Megan loves most, Daniel, to cause her pain.

EC: How would you describe Megan?

NT: I would say she’s someone who’s been to hell and back and survived. She is sensitive, quiet, and artistic. She can never really be sure that her son is alive until he walks into the police station six years after his abduction. She exists in this terrible limbo where she struggles to move or change her life. I think she only forces herself to go on living in the hope that he will one day return and then like any grief she finds a place to put it so that she can begin to live a life again. I admire her resilience. It takes her a long time to find a way to be in the world without her son.

EC: Please compare the past and present relationship between Megan and Daniel?

NT: To a six-year-old his mother is his whole world. That’s what Megan was to Daniel and when Greg took him away, he took away Daniels’s security and sense of self. When Daniel returns, he has been told over and again that his mother did not love him as she said she did. He was young enough to believe his father. Megan has not had the six years of growing in between. Her love for him is still as strong. In the novel she is really struggling with who he is now. He’s a very different person who’s had six years of experience away from her, now almost a teenager. Daniel wants her to know him, and she wants to know him as well but it’s a distance that they struggle to breach. They are like complete strangers.

EC: Greg manipulated Daniel?

NT: As Daniel grew up, he found himself in remote situations. He was kept from attending school and was always told not to question. Having raised teenagers when they have questions besides going to their parent they ask friends, teachers, and go on the Internet. These were all denied to Daniel because Greg isolated him. Daniel had the same relationship with Greg as Megan did. They wanted to appease him, feared his anger, and did not want to do anything wrong.

EC: While married Megan was also manipulated by Greg?

NT: Greg took away Megan’s identity as a person. There is a scene in the book where she is afraid to order a glass of wine. Her brother asks her ‘what happened.’ She does not even really know. It starts out as tiny compromises, which she felt were not big deals until eventually everything adds up.

EC: In the book there is a quote, “Before her divorce she had lived in a house she didn’t like, driven a car she hated…But everything she did had seemingly been her choice because Greg had always said, ‘Whatever will make you happy…’ That Greg’s version of love was only about suffocating control.” Please explain

NT: I think that there has always been a dispute about levels of domestic abuse. A bruise can be seen, but abuse exists in many more forms than that. In Australia, coercive control has only just been recognized by law as abuse. Sometimes control is a slow breaking down of your own opinions until you’re not sure who you are any more. What starts out as love and compromise can eventually become very one sided. That’s what happened with Megan and Greg. Before she met him, she never questioned her own opinion on things but by the time she left him, she wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. If someone criticizes your choices often enough and you’re sure that they love you-it’s easy to believe they must only be doing it to help you-not hurt you. That’s how it begins and soon you’re making choices on things that are not really what you want but you’re keeping the peace and the other person happy.

EC: Are you a runner and how did running play a role in the story?

NT: I used to run but now I ride the bike at gym. I don’t know how I would get through life without the kind of intense exercise that raises your heart rate to a point where your mind stills. It’s a way to center yourself and when Megan finds it, it’s symbolic of her journey back to life and towards acceptance that Daniel will return to her when he’s an adult.

EC: A heads up about your next book?

NT: Home Sweet Home comes out on August 6^th. It begins with a delivery driver, trying to deliver a computer to a house in the suburbs. The owner of the house answers the door but then tells him she can’t open the door. The way she says it alerts this particular man, a man with a difficult past, to something being wrong inside the house. At the same time the next-door neighbors grow concerned for the family inside. It takes place over the course of just seven hours, but it is another example of how a life can change in an instant, The world shifts and who you were when the sun rose is not the same person as who you are when the sun sets.

THANK YOU!!

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.

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Question Is Murder by Mark Willen

The Question Is Murder

by Mark Willen

July 5-16, 2021 Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for THE QUESTION IS MURDER by Mark Willen.

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

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Book Description

Washington D.C. newspaper columnist Sam Turner, known to his readers as Mr. Ethics, faces his toughest moral dilemma yet: Can murder ever be justified?

That’s the question posed to him by a mysterious young woman who says she is being stalked and harassed by an ex-lover too powerful to be stopped any other way. Sam knows that journalists should never get personally involved in a story, but he finds he is being drawn deeper and deeper into this one whether he wants it or not.

So when Senator Wade Morgan turns up murdered, Sam fears the worst. Worried about his own involvement, the man who normally has all the answers is now the one making questionable decisions.

As his investigation into the Senator’s death begins to spin out of control, Sam finds he can’t let go—even as the case grows more complicated and the threats against his life become more immediate. With the fate of a young woman at stake and his own life in jeopardy, Sam can’t back down until the killer—whoever that may be—is brought to justice.

But this is D.C., and justice can be in short supply.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57685793-the-question-is-murder?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=fWsSzbGX1x&rank=1

The Question Is Murder

Genre: Mystery, Suspense, Amateur Sleuth, Psychological Thriller
Published by: Pen-L Publishing
Publication Date: May 14th 2021
Number of Pages: 304
ISBN: 1683132246 (ISBN-13: 978-1683132240)
Series: The Question Is Murder is not included in a series.

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE QUESTION IS MURDER by Mark Willen is an amateur sleuth mystery/suspense set in Washington DC with a mature newspaper columnist/college lecturer who is known to his readers as Mr. Ethics. This mystery is not only told in the amateur sleuth’s point of view, but through the three main suspects’ points of view in alternating chapters, also.

Sam Turner known as Mr. Ethics receives an email to his column asking if murder can ever be justified?

The unknown young woman who asks the question says she is being stalked and threatened by her ex-lover who is too powerful to be stopped in any other way. Sam knows journalists should never get personally involved, but he is drawn to this woman and her dilemma.

A Senator turns up dead in his car. At first it looks like suicide, but quickly is determined to be murder. Sam fears he has become involved and is starting to question his own decisions. He is drawn deeper into the complicated investigation. Sam cannot back down, even when his own life is threatened, until the killer is brought to justice.

I enjoyed this mystery and the ethical questions that appear and are discussed throughout. It was interesting to see the slippery slope caused by Sam’s decisions and his rationalizations for those decisions. I also enjoyed the unique points of view telling their own stories right along with our amateur sleuth as the mystery unravels. This is a character driven investigation as much as a criminal or journalistic investigation. The author deftly handles all points of view, reliable or unreliable without giving away who is guilty. The resolution to the mystery is satisfactory, but quick. I do like the fact that this is a standalone mystery because I am not always craving a series mystery.

I can recommend this well written, paced and plotted amateur sleuth mystery.

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Excerpt

Dear Mr. Ethics

Sam reads the email a second time, then a third, not sure whether to dismiss it as a prank or call the police. He prints it out and then reads it again, looking for some clue to the sender’s frame of mind.

It’s probably a stunt. Sam gets more than his share of cranks and weirdos. There’s something about writing a newspaper column and calling yourself “Mr. Ethics” that attracts them. Some people just take offense at the notion of a guy sitting behind a computer trying to tell them there’s a right way to behave.

He takes a deep breath and reads the email again, a blue felt-tipped pen in his hand. He studies the words, the grammar, even the sentence structure, looking for oddities or inconsistencies. Nothing jumps out.

He doesn’t need this. Not now.

But then maybe he does. Maybe it’s just what he needs. Something to take his mind off of Lisa, not unlike the migraine that makes you forget the sprained ankle, at least for a while.

He looks up from the sheet of paper in his hand and glances at the poster that hangs in front of him. It’s filled with quotations on writing, and although it’s the kind of thing a college kid would hang in a dorm room, he’s always liked having it near. And he didn’t have much else to stick on the wall two years ago when he was awarded his own office, a privilege he didn’t especially want and still hasn’t adjusted to. He loves the column, both for its intellectual challenge and for the feeling that he may be helping people, albeit in small ways, to make the world a better place.

He turns back to the email. He needs another opinion and knows it should come from his boss, but he doesn’t want to lose control. Brenda would be cautious and call in the executive editor or a lawyer, maybe both, and that would mean days of delay. He’s not going to use the email in his column, so whatever he does shouldn’t come back to hurt the newspaper. He wants to help if he can, and he doesn’t want anyone to get in his way. He’s too old for bureaucratic games.

But he does want another opinion.

He gets up, grabs the printout, and walks down the hall to the newsroom. It’s eerily quiet, nothing like the newsrooms he grew up in. Gone is the chaos of constant motion and loud conversations carried on from opposite ends of the room. Gone too are the ugly metal desks shoved together so close you can smell the whisky on your neighbor’s breath, hear him belch or argue with an official or a source on the phone. Some had hated it, but Sam thrived on the synergy it produced, the bonds it created, the shared excitement of doing something he believed—still believes—is important.

Now, in its place he sees what the younger reporters view as high-tech paradise, with desks crowded with laptops and other electronic devices. The reporters and editors are stuck in a maze of mini-cubicles with three-foot high, sound-absorbing barriers to create a sense of privacy. They need to stand up to see another person.

He’s acutely aware of how much journalism has changed in the thirty years he’s been practicing it. Not that it was ever pure and not that all its practitioners had less than selfish motives. But many did. Now it’s nothing more than a business, a fight for internet clicks or a spot appearance on TV, just when facts and truth matter the most because they’re in such short supply. It’s one of the reasons he was ready to give up reporting and editing to take on the ethics column, but that’s not to say he doesn’t miss the thrill of unraveling an important story.

He walks the maze, heading to Molly’s corner. “Hey,” he says as he comes up behind her.

Her right hand rises in a silencing gesture, and he realizes she’s on the phone. One of those ear things hidden by her hair. How was he supposed to know?

While he waits, he glances up at the silent TV monitors on the wall and tries to guess why the weatherman is moving his arms around in a circle. After a minute or so, Molly ends the call and turns to him.

“What?” she asks, not unfriendly but not friendly either. Busy is the vibe he gets.

Sam was once Molly’s editor and mentor as she learned her way around Congress, which was Sam’s beat for twelve years. She still comes to him for advice, though not often, and he will seek her out when his ethics column needs the perspective of someone younger, or a woman.

He hands her the printout without speaking and watches her read it, biting down on her lower lip, a habit he’s grown used to. He averts his eyes when she looks up and catches him staring at her. He glances around her cubicle while she finishes, then turns back to her, focusing now on her hands, which grip the printout on either side, as if she’s worried he’ll have second thoughts and try to take it back. He’s never noticed how graceful her hands look, with long supple fingers, as though she was born to play the piano. Or type. The thought makes him smile.

Molly hands back the email and frowns. “So what’s the question?” she asks.

“Do you think it’s for real?”

She purses her lips and turns her head slightly. Her blue eyes, accented with eye shadow she doesn’t need, seem to settle on a photograph of her and Kyle, her fiancé. They are wearing hiking gear and standing atop a boulder, Molly’s bleached-blond hair blowing lightly in the wind. Their wedding is set for Memorial Day weekend, less than three months away.

“Look, Sam,” she says finally, picking up her water bottle and taking a swallow, making him wait for what’s coming. “Every woman has some rat-bastard in her past she’d love to blow to kingdom come, but they never actually do it.”

“Some do.”

“Not many. And probably only on the spur of the moment. More passion than planning, and never with advance notice.”

“This is different. He didn’t dump her. He’s stalking her and she’s scared. She doesn’t see any other way out.”

Molly tilts her head slightly and he’s not sure what that means. She reaches for the moisturizer she keeps on her desk. He watches her squirt some in her palm and then rub it carefully on the backs of her hands. He feels himself getting annoyed. Since Lisa asked him to move out, he has less patience for everything and everyone. He reminds himself of that and takes a deep breath.

“I can’t ignore it,” he says.

“But what can you do? It’s vague and anonymous. You can’t use it in the column. Are you thinking of turning it over to the police?”

“No. I have to answer her. Reach out in some way.”

“Tell me why. You always told me not to get involved in the stories I cover.”

“I can’t just let it go.”

“What if you find out she’s serious? Or suicidal?” she asks. “Then you’ll have no choice but to go to the authorities.”

The question annoys him. “Of course. But I don’t have enough to work with now.”

“I don’t disagree, and if it’s not a hoax, I feel sorry for her. But all you can do is tell her to go to the police.”

“She says she can’t,” he says. “I want to find out why. This is a cry for help.”

Molly shrugs, making it clear she doesn’t agree. “If I came to you with this, you’d say reporters shouldn’t get involved. I’d get your lecture on how our job is to shine a light on problems while staying above the fray, not try to make everything okay.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t argue with the journalistic principle she’s quoting, but it doesn’t apply here because he’s not a reporter planning to write a story about the email. “I have to follow it up,” he tells her. “I just do.”

“Why’d you ask my advice if you already had your mind made up?”

He walks away without answering. On the one hand, he sees her point, but he’s disappointed she isn’t more concerned, more helpful. It surprises him that Molly isn’t able to put herself in other people’s shoes more often. Seeing the other side of an issue—any issue—is an important skill for a reporter. Call it empathy.

But maybe he’s just annoyed because she doesn’t agree with him.

Back in his office, he forwards the email to the IT department. He deletes the content, but they can analyze the IP address or whatever they look at to try to determine where it came from. He doesn’t have much hope, but it’s worth a try. Then he turns back to the email and rereads it.

Dear Mr. Ethics:

Is murder ever ethical? I hope so because I don’t have a choice. An ex-lover is destroying me. I broke up with him and now he’s ruining my life. He got into my laptop, stole all my data and used it to stalk, embarrass, and almost bankrupt me. Now he’s moved on to even worse stuff. He’s killing my hope for any kind of normal life, so killing him is a form of self-defense. Justifiable homicide, right?

I can’t go to the police for reasons I can’t explain here. And I can’t give you any more details because I can’t risk you figuring out my name.

So can I murder him? And no, I’m not kidding.

Sincerely,

Truly Desperate

Sam jots down several notes. The tone strikes him as strangely calm and rational. She’s making a logical argument, not what you’d expect from someone stressed and frantic. Or crazy. Is it a hoax? Maybe a college kid bored with her ethics class and looking for term paper ideas. Or an author concocting a crazy plot for a thriller. Or maybe someone pissed off at Mr. Ethics and hoping to draw him into a discussion that will embarrass him if made public.

But maybe not.

It doesn’t matter. He has to answer her. Keep her talking, try to get more clues so he can stop her on the off chance she really is planning a murder.

He turns to his keyboard and after several false starts comes up with his reply.

Dear Truly Desperate,

I’m going to assume this is a not a prank because I have no way of knowing, and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt.

From the little you’ve told me, I can assure you that what you propose is not ethical. Justifiable homicide applies only when your life is in imminent danger, and you haven’t convinced me that this is the case. I don’t think you’ve convinced yourself or you wouldn’t be asking me.

You need to go to the police. If you can’t do it yourself, is there someone who can do it for you? If necessary, I might be willing to do that, depending on the details. And with the newspaper behind me, the police will feel obliged to take it seriously.

If you don’t want my help, I suggest you talk to a mental health professional or a social worker or someone experienced in cases involving domestic partner abuse (which this obviously is).

If you’d like to talk about this more (and I will treat any conversations we have confidentially), you may call me at any time (cellphone number below).

Above all, don’t do anything rash.

Regards,

Sam Turner (a.k.a. Mr. Ethics)

He sits back and reads the note again. He considers his offer to go to the police on her behalf, mindful of Molly’s warning not to get involved. He wants to help her, but that’s going too far. He eliminates that sentence.

He also cuts the promise of confidentiality. If she asks for it, he’ll agree, but there’s no need to offer it upfront. And it might tie his hands unnecessarily.

He reads his response one last time and hits the send button.

* * *

Author Bio

Mark Willen was born, raised, and educated in New England, where he developed a special appreciation for the values, humor, and strength of its people, as well as the sense of community that characterizes so many of its small towns. After college, he moved to the Washington, DC area, where he quickly learned how the other half lives.

As a journalist, he has been a reporter, columnist, blogger, producer, and editor at The Voice of America, National Public Radio, Congressional Quarterly, Bloomberg News, and Kiplinger. Though based primarily in Washington, he has reported from datelines as varied as New York, Moscow, Cairo, Beijing, Buenos Aires, and Johannesburg. Having retired from journalism in 2010, Mark now divides his time between writing fiction and volunteer work. As a former graduate-level teacher of journalism ethics, he also tries to help people figure out the right thing to do in difficult situations through his blog, TalkingEthics.com Mark has a Masters of Arts in writing from Johns Hopkins University (2010) and a Bachelor of Arts in government from Dartmouth College.

The Question Is Murder is Mark’s debut mystery, but there is always an element of suspense in his novels. His earlier Jonas Hawke series, three books set in a small but troublesome town in Vermont, were also published by Pen-L. His short stories have appeared in The Rusty Nail, Corner Club Press, and The Boiler Review.

Mark lives in Silver Spring, Maryland, with his wife, Janet.

Social Media Links

MarkWillen.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @MarkWillen
Instagram – @markwillen7
Twitter – @MarkWillen
Facebook – @MarkWillenAuthor

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Goodreads

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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f24bf84b750/?

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Silent Listener by Lyn Yeowart

Today is my turn on the Books n All Promotions Blog Tour and I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE SILENT LISTENER by Lyn Yeowart.

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

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Book Description

AN UNFORGETTABLE PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER SET IN THE DARK, GOTHIC HEART OF RURAL AUSTRALIA

The moment he dies, the room explodes with life.

Joy Henderson returns to the family farm to nurse her dying father. To the outside world, George is a pillar of the community, but to Joy and her siblings, he’s a monster. As children, they lived in constant fear of the punishments he dished out to his “dirty, filthy sinners who are going to rot in Hell”. Then, the day after George finally confesses to a horrific crime, Joy finds him dead — with a belt pulled tight around his neck . . .

Senior Constable Alex Shepherd, summoned to the scene by George’s doctor, is suspicious: did Joy murder her father? If so, why?

The more Shepherd digs the more questions he raises. Will the truth finally be revealed?

Effortlessly propelling the reader back and forth between three timelines, Lyn Yeowart’s unforgettable debut richly rewards the reader with its explosive, pitiless conclusion.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55439152-the-silent-listener?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=xXSeiROICC&rank=1

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE SILENT LISTENER by Lyn Yeowart is an intense, dark atmospheric family drama suspense. This debut author follows a family over several decades by intertwining three timelines. This is a slow burn suspense and it does take a while to sort out, but it is so well written it is difficult to put down even with the difficult subject matter and well worth your time.

Set in rural Australia, one timeline is set in the 1940’s when George Henderson meets his future wife Gwen and after a whirlwind romance marries her. George is not the man he pretends to be and Gwen does not realize the direction her marriage will take. They have three children, Mark, Ruth and Joy. The second timeline is told in Joy’s perspective. Joy in the 1960’s when she is age 11 and her neighbor’s 9-year-old daughter, Wendy disappears. Joy returns home in 1983 to take care of her dying father and Senior Constable Shepard investigation is the focus.

When George Henderson dies, it is under suspicious circumstances and Senior Constable Shepard is called to the home. He was part of the search for the missing Wendy all those years ago and now as he investigates George’s death and learns more about the Henderson family, nothing is as it seems.

This is a story that is difficult to read and yet difficult to put down. Even with the slow set-up, there are so many things that you question and that you are intrigued by. The plotting has subtle red herrings in the first part of the book and then as secrets begin to unravel and be revealed the pacing picks up to a conclusion that was very surprising and satisfying. Trigger warnings for readers: Domestic violence and child abuse.

I can recommend this dark family domestic suspense for an intense read by this debut author.

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Author Bio

Lyn Yeowart is a professional writer and editor with more than 25 years of experience in writing and editing everything from captions for artworks to speeches for executives. Her debut novel, The Silent Listener, is loosely based on events from her childhood in rural Australia. She is now happily ensconced in Melbourne, where there is very little mud, but lots of books.

Social Media Links

AUTHOR WEBSITE
FACEBOOK
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
GOODREADS

Book Review: The Woman Who Smashed Codes by Jason Fagone

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE WOMAN WHO SMASHED CODES: A True Story of Love, Spies, and the Unlikely Heroine Who Outwitted America’s Enemies by Jason Fagone is a literary nonfiction WWII biography novel which brings to light the major contributions of the amazing female half of a married couple who both invented many aspects of the modern science of cryptology.

Elizebeth Smith wanted a job in literature. She is hired by an eccentric millionaire who brings the best minds of 1916 together on a large farm outside of Chicago and tells them to be the best they can be. Elizebeth becomes disillusioned with the project she was hired to work on, but she is intrigued with the young man, William Freidman she meets who is helping with the project.

The two get married and begin working together on breaking coded messages that are brought to them from various government and law enforcement agencies. They soon build a reputation and are instrumental in building the strategic texts for codebreaking that they and others use throughout WWI, Prohibition and WWII while William is in the Army and Elizebeth works for the Coast Guard.

While history hails William’s accomplishments of being a groundbreaker and innovator in cryptology and at breaking the Japanese version of Enigma, there is little praise given to Elizebeth’s own contributions from breaking Prohibition gangsters’ codes to breaking the Enigma code German spies were using all over South America.

This book brings Elizebeth’s accomplishments and contributions to light. Mr. Fagone brings Elizebeth to life from her professional publications and personal writings. I was truly amazed by how her and her husband’s brains worked to decode so many secret code systems without using mathematics or having the use of the just being invented computer. The only problem I had with the book was the inclusion of some codes that were used and/or broken by the duo because while I know some would work to solve the puzzles, it just interrupted the flow of the story for me. Otherwise, Elizebeth’s personality comes alive in this story and her story just leads you to wonder how many other brilliant women have been overlooked by history.

I recommend this literary nonfiction WWII biography of a brilliant mind and woman!

***

Author Bio

I’ve written about science, sports, and culture for Wired, GQ, Men’s Journal, Esquire, NewYorker.com, The New York Times Magazine, The Atlantic, Slate, Philadelphia, and the 2011 edition of The Best American Sports Writing. A few years ago, I wrote a book called “Horsemen of the Esophagus,” about competitive eating and the American dream. For the last three years, I’ve been working on my next book, “Ingenious,” which will be published this November. It’s about inventors and cars. I live outside of Philadelphia with my wife and daughter.

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Lady Sunshine by Amy Mason Doan

Hi, everyone!

Today is my last blog post on the Harlequin Trade Publishing Summer 2021 Beach Reads Blog Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for LADY SUNSHINE by Amy Mason Doan.

Below you will find an about the book section, my book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!

***

About the Book

ONE ICONIC FAMILY. ONE SUMMER OF SECRETS. THE DAZZLING SPIRIT OF 1970S CALIFORNIA.

For Jackie Pierce, everything changed the summer of 1979, when she spent three months of infinite freedom at her bohemian uncle’s sprawling estate on the California coast. As musicians, artists, and free spirits gathered at The Sandcastle for the season in pursuit of inspiration and communal living, Jackie and her cousin Willa fell into a fast friendship, testing their limits along the rocky beach and in the wild woods… until the summer abruptly ended in tragedy, and Willa silently slipped away into the night.

Twenty years later, Jackie unexpectedly inherits The Sandcastle and returns to the iconic estate for a short visit to ready it for sale. But she reluctantly extends her stay when she learns that, before her death, her estranged aunt had promised an up-and-coming producer he could record a tribute album to her late uncle at the property’s studio. As her musical guests bring the place to life again with their sun-drenched beach days and late-night bonfires, Jackie begins to notice startling parallels to that summer long ago. And when a piece of the past resurfaces and sparks new questions about Willa’s disappearance, Jackie must discover if the dark secret she’s kept ever since is even the truth at all.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55004512-lady-sunshine?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=uRo5EzwBAJ&rank=1

Lady Sunshine

by Amy Mason Doan

On Sale Date: June 29, 2021

9781525804670, 1525804677

Trade Paperback

$16.99 USD, $21.99 CAD

Fiction / Women/ Coming of Age

368 pages

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

LADY SUNSHINE by Amy Mason Doan is a new women’s fiction story that has two intertwining timelines, the first is of an idyllic summer in 1979 when two young cousins come together and the second is 1999, as one cousin faces truths and discovers secrets from that free-spirited summer.

This new-to-me author hooked me immediately with vivid characters and nostalgia that takes a very unexpected turn not once, but twice during this captivating story. The Sandcastle is the setting for both timelines on the California coast and is the compound of Jackie Pierce’s uncle. The 1979 timeline brings back memories from that time period and compares the two cousins very different lives which at first are pure and simple, but they have underlying secrets that tear them apart. The 1999 timeline brings Jackie back to the compound that she has inherited and she now has to face truths from the past that she has been hiding away from in her small life in Boston.

This book has so many different layered facets that come together into a compelling story that has friendship, family, secrets, and forgiveness. This new-to-me author had me completely wrapped up in both timelines with surprising plotlines and realistic characters.

I highly recommend this hard to categorize, yet beautifully written story.

***

Excerpt

A Girl, Her Cousin, and a Waterfall

1999

I rattle the padlock on the gate, strum my fingers along the cold chain-link fence.

I own this place.

Maybe if I repeat it often enough I’ll believe it.

All along the base of the fence are tributes: shells, notes, sketches, bunches of flowers. Some still fresh, some so old the petals are crisp as parchment. I follow the fence uphill, along the coast side, and stop at a wooden, waist-high sign marking the path up to the waterfall. It wasn’t here the summer I visited.

The sign is covered in words and drawings, so tattooed-over by fan messages that you can barely read the official one. I run my fingertips over the engravings: initials, peace symbols, Thank you’s, I Love You’s. Fragments of favorite lyrics. After coming so far to visit the legendary estate, people need to do something, leave their mark, if only with a rock on fog-softened wood.

Song titles from my uncle’s final album, Three, are carved everywhere. “Heart, Home, Hope.”

“Leaf, Shell, Raindrop.”

“Angel, Lion, Willow.” Someone has etched that last one in symbols instead of words. The angel refers to Angela, my aunt. The lion is my uncle Graham.

And the willow tree. Willa, my cousin.

I have a pointy metal travel nail file in my suitcase; I could add my message to the rest, my own tribute to this place, to the Kingstons. To try to explain what happened the summer I spent here. I could tell it like one of the campfire tales I used to spin for Willa.

This is the story of a girl, her cousin, and a waterfall…

But there’s no time for that, not with only seven days to clear the house for sale. Back at the gate, where Toby’s asleep in his cat carrier in the shade, I dig in my overnight bag for the keys. They came in a FedEx with a fat stack of documents I must’ve read on the plane from Boston a dozen times—thousands of words, all dressed up in legal jargon. When it’s so simple, really. Everything inside that fence is mine now, whether I want it or not.

I unlock the gate, lift the metal shackle, and walk uphill to the highest point, where the gravel widens into a parking lot, then fades away into grass. The field opens out below me just like I remember. We called it “the bowl,” because of the way the edges curve up all around it. A golden bowl scooped into the hills, rimmed on three sides by dark green woods. The house, a quarter mile ahead of me at the top of the far slope, is a pale smudge in the fir trees.

I stop to take it in, this piece of land I now own. The Sandcastle, everyone called it.

Without the neighbors’ goats and Graham’s guests to keep the grass down, the field has grown wild, many of the yellow weeds high as my belly button.

Willa stood here with me once and showed me how from this angle the estate resembled a sun. The kind a child would draw, with a happy face inside. Once I saw it, it was impossible to un-see:

The round, straw-colored field, trails squiggling off to the woods in every direction, like rays. The left eye—the campfire circle. The right eye—the blue aboveground pool. The nose was the vertical line of picnic benches in the middle of the circle that served as our communal outdoor dining table. The smile was the curving line of parked cars and motorcycles and campers.

All that’s gone now, save for the pool, which is squinting, collapsed, moldy green instead of its old bright blue.

I should go back for my bag and Toby but I can’t resist—I move on, down to the center of the field. Far to my right in the woods, the brown roofline of the biggest A-frame cabin, Kingfisher, pokes through the firs. But no other cabins are visible, the foliage is so thick now. Good. Each alteration from the place of my memories gives me confidence. I can handle this for a week. One peaceful, private week to box things up and send them away.

“Sure you don’t want me to come help?” Paul had asked when he dropped me at the airport this morning. “We could squeeze in a romantic weekend somewhere. I’ve always wanted to go to San Francisco.”

“You have summer school classes, remember? Anyway, it’ll be totally boring, believe me.”

I’d told him—earnest, sweet Paul, who all the sixth-graders at the elementary school where we work hope they get as their teacher and who wants to marry me—that the trip was no big deal. That I’d be away for a week because my aunt in California passed away. That I barely knew her and just had to help pack up her old place to get it ready for sale.

He believed me.

I didn’t tell him that the “old place” is a stunning, sprawling property perched over the Pacific, studded with cabins and outbuildings and a legendary basement recording studio. That the land bubbles with natural hot springs and creeks and waterfalls.

Or that I’ve inherited it. All of it. The fields, the woods, the house, the studio. And my uncle’s music catalog.

I didn’t tell him that I visited here once as a teenager, or that for a little while, a long time ago, I was sure I’d stay forever.

Excerpted from Lady Sunshine @ 2021 by Amy Mason Doan, used with permission by Graydon House.

***

About the Author

AMY MASON DOAN is the author of The Summer List and Summer Hours. She earned a BA in English from UC Berkeley and an MA in journalism from Stanford University, and has written for The Oregonian, San Francisco Chronicle, and Forbes, among other publications. She grew up in Danville, California, and now lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and daughter.

Social Media Links

Website: https://amymasondoan.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AmyLDoan

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

Pintrest: https://www.pinterest.com/amydoanla/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16722065.Amy_Mason_Doan

Mailing List: https://amymasondoan.com/contact/

Purchase Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lady-Sunshine-Amy-Mason-Doan/dp/1525804677

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lady-sunshine-amy-mason-doan/1137570752?ean=9781525804670

Bookshop: https://bookshop.org/books/lady-sunshine-9781525804670/9781525804670

Powell’s: https://www.powells.com/book/lady-sunshine-9781525804670

Broadway Books: https://www.broadwaybooks.net/book/9781525811548

Libro.fm: https://libro.fm/audiobooks/9781488211324-lady-sunshine

Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Lady-Sunshine/Amy-Mason-Doan/9781525804670?id=8228253181468

Target: https://www.target.com/p/lady-sunshine-by-amy-mason-doan-paperback/-/A-81262153#lnk=sametab

Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/Lady-Sunshine-Original-Ed-Hardcover-9781525811548/118720350

Indigo: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/lady-sunshine-a-novel/9781525804670-item.html?ikwid=amy+mason+doan&ikwsec=Home&ikwidx=0#algoliaQueryId=0bd161f9a9366fb59095bf4f608b9f53

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/lady-sunshine-2

AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/lady-sunshine/id1527559208

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Amy_Mason_Doan_Lady_Sunshine?id=-ET3DwAAQBAJ

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Dead Tree Tales by Rush Leaming

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours for DEAD TREE TALES by Rush Leaming.

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

***

Book Description

Set in Charleston, SC, and the surrounding islands, police are called to investigate the poisoning of a much-loved 1000-year-old tree, only to find evidence of a more brutal crime. From there, the story explodes into a fast-paced, multi-character thriller unlike any you’ve ever read.

Not for the faint of heart…“Dead Tree Tales by Rush Leaming is about a lot more than a dead tree. It’s a mystery. It’s a crime story. It’s a thriller. It’s a powerful comment on today’s society and politics… fast-paced, full of action and intrigue… It’s a real page-turner and just a fantastic read.” – Lorraine Cobcroft, Reader’s Favorite

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57666953-dead-tree-tales?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=wm2bHLUxaw&rank=1

Dead Tree Tales

by Rush Leaming

Genre: Crime Thriller
Published by: Bridgewood
Publication Date: June 8th 2021
Number of Pages: 488
ISBN: 0999745654 (ISBN13: 9780999745656)

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

DEAD TREE TALES by Rush Leaming is a fantastic new mystery/crime thriller that is impossible to put down. Mr. Leaming ties together several crimes which include the arboricide of a 1000-year-old legendary tree with the murder of an unknown young female all with acute observations of today’s political and societal unrest and corruption.

Detectives Charlie Harper and Elena Vasquez of the Charlestown PD are called out to Johns Island to investigate the poisoning of Addison’s Oak nicknamed “The Tree” which has survived for 1000 years. As they survey the area, they also notice blood on the grass and the severed tip of a finger.

As the investigation progresses, it becomes more complex, twisted and leads to a startling climax.

I cannot say enough about how much I enjoyed this book. The author’s observations through the eyes of his two main characters brings Charlestown and the coastal islands to life. Each of the two main detectives are having personal family problems which the author handles with honesty and empathy. The secondary characters are also fully fleshed and add to the depth and realism of the story. All the characters could walk right off the page. The politics and racial tensions are woven throughout and based on current events.

I feel this is one of the most perfectly crafted mix of characterization and plotted mystery/crime thrillers that I have read. I loved it!

I highly recommend this story.

***

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

It was known simply as The Tree; that is what the locals on Johns Island, South Carolina, called it. A Southern live oak born a thousand years ago (some even said fifteen hundred), its gargantuan limbs swirled and stretched as much as two hundred feet in all directions. The lower arms, heavy with age, sometimes sank into the earth only to reemerge. Other branches flailed recklessly in the sky, like some sort of once-screaming kraken turned to wood by an ancient curse.

Generation after generation had protected it. Rising from the center of a former indigo plantation, and now officially known as Addison’s Oak, The Tree had long been a source of pride, even fear, in the surrounding community, as well as James Island, Wadmalaw Island, and the nearby city of Charleston.

But now, The Tree was dying. It was not from natural causes either, not from time, nor gravity, nor the weather.

Someone had killed it.

“Is that a thing?” Detective Charlie Harper asked as he turned his head to look at his partner, Detective Elena Vasquez.

“I think so.” Elena squinted her eyes toward the top of the canopy, the leafy summit shadowed and backlit by the noon sun.

“Arborcide? That’s a thing?” Charlie asked again.

An Asian-American man in his mid-twenties wearing wraparound sunglasses stood next to the two detectives. “Yep. You remember that incident a few years ago in Auburn? Toomer’s Corner. Crazy Alabama fan poisoned the tree there.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said. “But I mean legally. Is it legally a crime to do this?”

“Cops were involved there,” the man said. “The guy went to jail. Has to be something. Why don’t you call them? See what they did.” He pulled a pack of spearmint gum from the front pocket of his jeans and stuffed five pieces in his mouth, noticing Charlie watching him. “Quitting smoking. Nicotine gum makes me dizzy.”

Charlie nodded. “Been there.” Six feet tall, with a closely trimmed beard under bright-blue eyes, he walked around the perimeter of the field.

Salt air swirled around him—they were only a couple of miles from the beach—and Charlie realized it was the first time he had been away from the city and out on the islands in months, maybe even over a year.

Elena Vasquez, an athletic five-ten with shoulder-length black hair bobby-pinned over her ears, stood in front of the young man and opened a new page in the Notes app on her iPhone. “So, you’re the one who called about this?”

“Yes. It took some digging to figure out who to contact. I didn’t know there weren’t any police stations out here.”

“That’s correct.” She typed the date 5/19/2015 at the top of the page. “Closest station is the Island Sheriff’s Patrol on James Island, but they don’t handle things like this. That’s why you got us from the city. And who are you again?”

“Daniel Lee.”

She looked up from her iPhone. “Daniel is a nice name. It’s my son’s name, though we call him Danny. Where are you from, Mr. Lee?”

“I’m originally from Maryland—Chesapeake Bay area—but now I live in Charleston. West Ashley. I’m a Ph.D. candidate at the college.”

“College of Charleston?” Elena asked and continued typing.

“Yes. Environmental science. Teach a couple of undergrad classes as well. And I’m president of the local Sierra Club chapter. Our service project for this year has been public park maintenance and cleanup. I came here a week ago and saw that broken limb—”

“This one?” Charlie pointed at a fat twisted branch about the length of a Greyhound bus lying near the base of the tree.

“Yes.”

“Well . . .” Charlie said. “How do you know it wasn’t lightning or something?”

Daniel went over to Charlie and squatted next to the fallen limb. “There are no burn marks. Lightning would leave those.”

“Maybe it’s just old age. Isn’t this thing like a thousand years old or something?”

“Possibly more. It is rotting,” Daniel said. “But not from old age. See this discoloration? The rust-colored saturation of the stump where it broke?”

Charlie leaned in a little closer. “Yes.”

“That’s from poison, from a lot of poison. And you can see spots like this forming and spreading all around the trunk and on other branches.”

Elena stood beneath The Tree, placing her hand on a dark-orange splotch on the trunk. The gray bark surrounding the stain felt tough and firm, but inside the color spot, it was soft and crumbling. “I see it.”

“It’s like cancer,” Daniel said. “The Tree is not dead yet, but it will be soon. I had the soil tested as well as samples from the broken limb. They came back positive for massive levels of DS190.”

“And that is?” Charlie said.

“A variant of tebuthiuron. A very powerful herbicide. Similar to what was used at Toomer’s Corner. Somebody has been injecting the tree as well as dumping it into the ground. Probably for a few months to reach these levels.”

“Injecting the tree?” Elena said.

Daniel pulled them over to the base of the trunk where a ring of jagged holes stretched just above the ground. “Yes. See these gashes? Somebody has been boring into the trunk, then filling it with DS190.”

Charlie took out a pair of latex gloves and put them on before touching the holes in the trunk. “You’re sure this is intentional?”

“Has to be. This stuff doesn’t just appear on its own. It’s man-made. Someone has been doing this.”

“But why?” Charlie asked.

Daniel held out a hand, palm up. “Thus, the reason the two of you are here.”

Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know about this. We usually work homicide.”

Daniel gestured towards the gashes in the trunk. “You have a murder victim. Or soon will. Right in front of you.”

“But it’s a tree!” Charlie said.

Elena looked up from her phone. “Okay, Mr. Harper. Easy.”

Daniel motioned for them to follow as he walked to the backside of the trunk. “There’s something else.” He came to a stop in a patch of grass ringed with dandelion sprouts and pointed to dark-red streaks spread across the blades. “That’s blood, isn’t it?”

Charlie bent down and touched his gloved hand to one of the blades. “Maybe.” He took out a plastic bag and a Leatherman multitool from his jacket. He pulled apart the hinged scissors, then clipped away about a dozen pieces of grass and dropped them into the bag.

“And another thing,” Daniel said and led Elena to a spot about ten feet away. He pointed to a white card lying in the grass. “I didn’t touch any of this, by the way. I didn’t want to disturb the crime scene . . . I watch a lot of cop shows. I know how that goes.”

“Doesn’t everyone.” Elena squatted down, taking a plastic bag from her jacket. She used tweezers to pick up the card, muddy and frayed at the edges and turned it over to reveal a yellow cat emoji, just the head, whiskers, and a faint smile, printed on the opposite side. There were no words, just the image.

A strong breeze moved through the leaves of the great tree, a sound like rain showers mixed with groaning as the heavy limbs bent in the wind.

Charlie Harper removed his glove and rubbed the edge of his dark-brown beard. Looking at the massive branches, which did seem like the arms of giants, he began to understand why The Tree was such a big deal. “Have to say, it is beautiful here. Can’t believe I’ve been in Charleston four years and never been here. I should bring Amy. She’d love it.”

Daniel looked at Elena for an explanation.

“His daughter,” she said, then turned to Charlie. “You should. My dad brought me here a few times when I was a kid.”

“Well, you better hurry,” Daniel said.

“There’s nothing to stop it?” Elena asked.

“Probably not. I contacted a team of forestry researchers I know from Virginia Tech. They are going to send a team down to look at it, see if anything can be done. I sent a request to the Parks Department to pay for it. If they don’t, Sierra Club will hold a fundraiser.”

Charlie sighed. “Okay. While we decide what to do about this, I’ll call and have some signs and barriers put up to keep the tourists away.”

Elena turned to Daniel. “Thank you for meeting us here. Could you come to our station in the city today or tomorrow to give a formal statement?”

“Sure.”

“Bring copies of the lab work. We gonna find anything when we do a background check on you?”

Daniel shook his head. “No. Just some parking tickets . . . a lot of tickets actually. Parking at the college is a bitch.”

“That it is,” Elena said. “Here is my card if you think of anything else.”

“Thanks,” Daniel said. He stopped a moment as if to say something, then continued toward a white Chevy Volt parked near the road.

Elena looked at Charlie and raised her eyebrows. “So, Mr. Harper, what do you think?”

“Ehh . . . I mean I understand it’s old and rare and special and all that, but it’s a fucking tree. I don’t know anything about trees, do you?”

“No, but . . .”

“But what?”

“I don’t know,” Elena said and looked around the field. “My Spidey-sense tells me there’s more to it than just some weird vandalism.” She took a step forward and winced.

“Back acting up?” Charlie asked.

“A bit,” she said.

“Lunchtime anyway. Let’s take a break. I’m starving. June and I got into it again this morning. Skipped breakfast.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Elena swept a strand of black hair behind her ear. She pointed with her chin down a two-lane road to a crooked sign with a faded image of a pagoda: The Formosa Grill. “Chinese?”

“Sure,” Charlie said.

The two of them began to walk toward their gray Ford Explorer when Charlie saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and knelt in the grass. He used his Leatherman tool to again pry away several blades.

“What is it?” Elena asked.

Charlie’s head bolted upright, his blue eyes narrowing. “Mr. Lee!” he shouted. He pulled another latex glove from his pocket.

In the parking lot, Daniel climbed out of his car and made his way back to the field. “Yes?”

“Mr. Lee, when was the last time you were here before meeting us today?”

“Yesterday morning,” Daniel said.

Elena knelt next to Charlie, looked into the grass, and let a low whistle escape her lips. She used her phone to take a photo.

Charlie used tweezers to pick up a severed finger. Sliced just below the knuckle, the stump crusted in blood, the flesh covered with red ants, it ended with a sharp green fingernail. He looked at Daniel. “Did you happen to notice this?”

Daniel swallowed hard, turning his face to the side. “No. I did not.”

Charlie put the finger in a plastic bag.

Elena looked at him, her wide brown eyes giving him a knowing shimmer. “You interested in this case now, Mr. Harper?”

Charlie didn’t flinch. He stared at The Tree.

***

Author Bio

RUSH LEAMING has done many things including spending 15+ years in film/video production working on such projects as The Lord of the Rings films. His first novel, Don’t Go, Ramanya, a political thriller set in Thailand, was self-published in the fall of 2016 and reached number one on Amazon. His equally successful second novel, entitled The Whole of the Moon, a coming-of-age tale set in the Congo at the end of the Cold War, was published in 2018. His short stories have appeared in Notations, 67 Press, Lightwave, Green Apple, 5k Fiction, and The Electric Eclectic. He has lived in New York City, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Zaire, Thailand, Spain, Greece, England, and Kenya. He currently lives in South Carolina.