#thriller – Page 5 – Avonna Loves Genres

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Knife River by Baron R. Birtcher

KNIFE RIVER

by Baron R Birtcher

April 15 – May 10, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

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 . . .

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/193780754-knife-river?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=XLHHlK7kWu&rank=2

KNIFE RIVER

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!

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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.

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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.

Social Media Links

Facebook – @BaronRBirtcher
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram – @baronbirtcher_author
Twitter/X – @BaronBirtcher22

Purchase Links

Amazon – https://pictbooks.tours/hSlGa
BN – https://pictbooks.tours/kwF9C
Goodreads – https://pictbooks.tours/aOUPM
Open Road: – https://pictbooks.tours/l1TFy
BookShop.org – https://pictbooks.tours/B2W9Q

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KINGSUMO GIVEAWAY

https://kingsumo.com/g/vuil0q/knife-river-by-baron-r-birtcher-amazoncom-gift-card

Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: She’s Not Sorry by Mary Kubica

Book Description

Everyone has secrets, but not everyone has remorse…

A terrible accident.

Meghan Michaels is trying to find balance between being a single mom and working full time as an ICU nurse, when a patient named Caitlin arrives in her ward with a traumatic brain injury. They say she jumped from a bridge and plunged over twenty feet to the train tracks below.

A shocking revelation.

When a witness comes forward with new details about Caitlin’s fall, it calls everything they know into question. Was a crime committed? Did someone actually push Caitlin, and if so, who… and why?

No one is safe.

Meghan lets herself get close to Caitlin until she’s deeply entangled in the mystery surrounding her. Only when it’s too late, does she realize that she and her daughter could be the next victims…

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Elise’s Thoughts

She’s Not Sorry by Mary Kubica is a suspenseful thriller with a compelling twist. The characters are gripping although unreliable.

The main character is Meghan Michaels who is like any single mom, trying to find balance between working full time as an ICU nurse and being a doting mother. Now one of her patients, Caitlin Beckett, is in a coma with traumatic brain injury. As the story goes on authorities begin to question if she suicidally jumped from a bridge or was pushed.

Then there is Natalie (Nat) Cohen who Meghan runs into on the street. Nat was a high school classmate. After noticing a huge bruise on Nat’s face and having experience with abuse Meghan is worried and invites Nat to stay with her and her daughter Sienna.

Also wanting to make sure her teenage daughter is safe Meghan becomes a formidable character. Although thoughtful and caring she can become a “mama bear” if someone in her family is threatened.

As the story unveils readers see Meghan as strong but someone who has secrets that need to be kept. This is what compels readers to not want to put the book down.

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Author Interview

Elise Cooper: Did you have the idea for the ending or the plot first?

Mary Kubica: I started with the twist first, which is unusual for me. I have a starting point and no idea where I am going with it. With this one the twist came first and then I stepped backwards and created the characters to go with it, building up to it.

EC: Comas played a role in the book?

MK: I did not know anyone who has been in a coma, but I did quite a bit of research. This book has a medical setting and there was a patient in a coma. I am also very fortunate to have several friends who are nurses, some ICU nurses. There is nothing like speaking to someone who knows the information and lives in that world. I asked them some very specific questions including the day-to-day experience of being a nurse. I wanted a couple of nurses to read the book after it was finished for accuracy.

EC: How would you describe the daughter Sienna?

MK: A typical sixteen-year-old girl. My daughter would have been the same age at the time I started writing this book. She is a little sassy, defiant, and likes to push the boundaries. She and her mother Meghan have a great relationship. They are close. She is obviously not shy and speaks her mind.

EC: How would you describe Meghan?

MK: I think characters will find her relatable. As a mother she puts her daughter first: Sienna’s happiness and safety. She has recently gone through a divorce and is trying to find her footing. Being a nurse and having to work she is trying to find the right balance between being a solo parent and working mom. She is very empathetic. But will do anything to protect those she loves. She is compassionate, guarded, and tough.

EC: What role did Nat play in the story?

MK: Meghan remembers her as a high school friend. She thought she knew her more than she did. She felt safe with her because Nat was someone she grew up with. Because she went through this divorce, she feels isolated, desperate, and alone so she confides in her a deep secret.

EC: How did you come up with the prologue scene at the beginning of the book?

MK: This was not the first thing I wrote. I knew I wanted to start something out with a bang that would grip the readers. As a parent the idea of someone taking their child is every parent’s worst nightmare.

EC: I never heard of virtual kidnapping, is it true?

MK: Sadly, this is prevalent these days. It is a way to get money even though there was never a kidnapping. They do not have that person.

EC: Would you have paid the money straight out?

MK: I do not know. This is one of the things I would bring up in my books. What would the reader do? Thankfully, most of us have never been in this situation. But if I thought someone had my child and had a short time to pay this ransom, I might have done it.

EC: Role of Caitlin?

MK: She is the patient in the ICU and unconscious. Because she cannot speak the readers get information from her parents, the Becketts. They reveal more and more about her over time. The more we learn about her, the less we like her. In the beginning Meghan bonds with Mrs. Beckett because they are both mothers who care so much about their daughters.

EC: Next book?

MK: I just started it so no title and no release date. It is another suspense novel. This has a new setting, the North Woods of Wisconsin. Two families go on vacation together and bad things start to happen.

THANK YOU!!

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

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: The Leopard of Cairo by Bayard and Holmes

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for THE LEOPARD OF CAIRO (Apex Predator Espionage Thrillers Book #1) by Bayard and Holmes on this Author Marketing Experts Blog Tour.

Below you will find a guest post from the authors, a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, and the authors’ bios and social media links. Enjoy!

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Guest Post from the Authors

As Bayard & Holmes, we are known for accuracy in our espionage tradecraft. This is due to Jay Holmes’s fifty years of military and intelligence experience fighting against the Soviets and the terrorist groups they sponsored during the Cold War, straight through to the current Global War on Terror. As a result of our experience and authenticity, people like to ask us questions about the shadow world.

One of the common questions we receive is, “What are some of the most common mistakes writers make about the CIA?” The answer to that would be vocabulary.

Our espionage professionals at the CIA do not refer to themselves as spies. The word “spy” is considered a bit derogatory. As Holmes says, “Spying is seamy. It’s what the Russians do.” Technically, spies are foreigners who are spying on us, or they are foreigners who are spying on other countries for us.

Also, and this is a big one for the folks at the CIA, the intelligence personnel at the Agency are not “CIA agents.” In the world of the CIA, agents are people, most often foreigners, who are spying for our behalf on their own or other foreign governments.

The exceptions to that rule are the actual guards at the physical facilities. For example, if you were to go to headquarters, the personnel in security who would greet you at the gate are “CIA agents.” An easy rule of thumb is that if the position someone holds regards law enforcement, physical protection, or facilities security, they are agents.

In other words, Jack Ryan is not a CIA agent, but the guard he talks to at the front gate of headquarters is an agent, and the foreign spy who gives him information is an agent.

Instead of being spies or agents, our intelligence personnel are referred to as “officers” and “operatives.” Intelligence personnel at the CIA are technically called officers, which is a label particular to the CIA. CIA officers are actual employees of the CIA rather than contractors, and they get pretty touchy when you call them agents.

The term operative can apply to CIA officers and contractors, as well as to personnel from other civilian and military intelligence organizations. The term is rather vague and has no official definition, but it generally refers to men and women who work in field operations.

So to sum things up, Jack Ryan is not a spy or an agent, he is a CIA officer who must guard against foreign spies, collect intelligence from foreign agents, and sometimes goes into the field with operatives.

This is just one example of the accuracy that is the hallmark of our Bayard & Holmes fiction. To supplement, we have a Truth & Fiction section at the end of The Leopard of Cairo and all our novels, and we are happy to take your questions about the shadow world at the Contact page at our website, BayardandHolmes.com.

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Book Summary

John Viera left his CIA fieldwork hoping for a “normal” occupation and a long-awaited family, but when a Pakistani engineer is kidnapped from a top-secret US project and diplomatic entanglements tie the government’s hands, the Intelligence Community turns to John and his team of ex-operatives to investigate — strictly off the books. They uncover a plot of unprecedented magnitude that will precipitate the slaughter of millions.

From the corporate skyscrapers of Montreal to the treacherous alleys of Baluchistan, these formidable enemies strike, determined to create a regional apocalypse and permanently alter the balance of world power. Isolated in their knowledge of the impending devastation, John and his network stand alone between total destruction and the Leopard of Cairo.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/71953522-the-leopard-of-cairo?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=Kw9Ey7OAgH&rank=1

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

THE LEOPARD OF CAIRO (Apex Predator Espionage Thrillers Book #1) by Bayard and Holmes is an edge-of-your-seat international espionage thriller with storytelling that pulls you into exotic locations and takes you on a thrilling adventure to stop a plot to change the world’s governments balance of power. This is the first book in the series, and I cannot wait to get started on book #2, The Panther of Baracoa.

John Viera has left the CIA to start a “normal” life, but occasionally gets called back into off-the-book operations with a team of other ex-operatives who are able to accomplish jobs the government legally or politically cannot. John and the team are sent to discover why an engineer and his young daughter have been kidnapped, but what they discover is just the tip of the iceberg in a conspiracy that could end up killing millions.

This plot never lets up on the action and peril. The authors are able to introduce you to many characters, both good and bad, while never losing the fast pace of the story and also surprising you with the many plot twists throughout. John Viera and the rest of the team are fully developed both in their personal lives and their contributions to the team. The intrigue and mystery of the shadow cabal is a great way to keep me hooked and ready to grab the next book in the series.

I highly recommend this exciting start to this international espionage thriller!

***

Excerpt

THE LEOPARD OF CAIRO

John Viera jumped back from the swirl of soot. The bright green-and-blue Quetta city bus choked out another cloud, and a donkey beside it snorted, rattling its cart full of secondhand housewares. The vendor in the driver’s seat searched the crowd for one last customer. John ignored his hopeful glance and watched the bus chug deeper into the bowels of the Hazara Town market district.

The aroma of fresh bread sweetened the stench of exhaust that hung over the rush-hour crunch. John ducked into the bakeshop’s recessed doorway and scanned the street.

Bright paints battled vainly to beautify cement walls between dirty gray roll-down metal shop doors. Signs above the portals broadcast goods and trades in Urdu and English, revealing the creep of Westernization into the Islamic stronghold. Above John’s head, electrical wires crisscrossed, tying the one- and two-story structures together.

Vendors bustled to secure their wares in time for evening prayers. Mothers gripping plain cloth shopping bags herded children down sidewalks while bicycles competed with cars and donkey carts for street rights. None of them appeared to notice John. Western influence was widespread enough that he did not stand out with his collar-length umber hair, reddish beard, blue jeans, and khaki jacket.

Satisfied there were no immediate threats from the street, he glanced at his watch: 5:45. Martin would be waiting. John exited the bakery doorway and continued in the bus’s wake.

A bicyclist veered into traffic, and a truck swerved and jerked, cutting off a rusty sedan. The sedan’s horn blared. John flinched and pressed his hand to his ear.

¡Hostias! ¡Qué idiotas! He wished for a split second that he was still crouched in the mountains of Afghanistan, where he was sanctioned by the US government to capture or kill hostile actors, or at least to slam their heads in their car doors. In the city, though, he was constrained by rules of law and discretion. John quelled his irritation and strode to the corner.

He crossed with the light and visualized the remainder of his route to Martin’s. His MI6 counterpart had said his good-byes only a few weeks before, anticipating the welcoming women and rich cigars he would explore at his new post in Cuba. What ill wind could have blown the man from paradise back to hell so soon? Had he identified the mole in MI6? John picked up his pace.

An open truck shoved past, its load of sheep bleating protests through warped wooden slats, stinking of mud and hay. John wrinkled his nose. A block up the street, the truck spun a U-turn through an unlikely gap in the traffic and parked in front of a restaurant.

The bus ahead of John stopped at the corner across from the sheep. Passengers crowded on. Then a shopkeeper stepped from his corner store and threw his arms wide. The bus driver sprang to the sidewalk. The men clasped in a hug and submerged into conversation.

A fresh-faced woman in a pink hijab and sky-blue kameez veered around the talking driver, a little boy in tow. The child hugged a toy blow-up horse and grinned as if he clutched the Koh-i-Noor diamond. John gave the boy a smile when he passed.

Suddenly, three men in gray kameez tunics and salwar trousers burst around the opposite street corner. John’s head snapped up, drawn by their speed and focus. They stopped and scanned the crowd. One pointed toward the truckload of sheep and then pulled a pistol and fired.

John dove behind a parked car and drew his Makarov pistol from his waistband. Fight or flight? He stilled his urge to fire back. The last thing he needed was to become embroiled in a local turf war, particularly so near Martin’s. He only hoped his friend was not involved. He had to get to Martin.

More shots. Horns blared, and cars crowded one another to escape. The bus driver levitated into his vehicle. He threw it into gear and bullied his way around the corner. People who had sheltered behind the bus scrambled toward shops, even as shopkeepers slammed down their corrugated metal doors. Only two people weren’t moving—the child with the toy horse kneeling beside the woman in the pink hijab.

Blood seeped across her shoulder and rib cage. She gestured toward a shop with her good arm and shouted in Urdu. “Run. Now. Run.” The child burrowed closer.

John shoved his pistol in his waistband and charged to the woman. He swept her up and spoke to the boy in Urdu. “Follow us.” He sprinted toward a spice stall. The child dropped the horse and dogged John’s heels. The shopkeeper met John’s eyes, shook his head, and crashed down his metal door.

A bullet whizzed past and shattered a divot from the cement wall. John ducked away from the flying chips. The woman in his arms screamed, and her gaze sought her son. The boy tugged the end of her kameez and let go.

“Here,” cried a voice.

The bus driver’s friend crouched, holding open a slice of doorway at his corner shop. John ran, the boy beside him. The man rolled up the door to let them in and then slammed it down behind them.

Frightened people shuffled aside, and John laid the woman on the floor. Bright red oozed from her shoulder, shading her blue kameez a deep purple. She gripped her arm close and grimaced. John whipped off his jacket, peeled out of his T-shirt, and pressed the cotton against the wound.

The woman groaned. “Hakeem. Where is Hakeem?”

“I have him.” A man pushed forward and showed her the child in his arms. “He is unharmed.”

John spotted the shopkeeper. “Call an ambulance, and bring some towels.”

“We don’t have towels,” the man said. A woman with her hands full of T-shirts pushed past him.

“We can use these. I’m a nurse.” She knelt beside John. “I will care for her.”

“Thank you.” John moved out of the woman’s way and turned to the store owner. “Where is your bathroom?”

The man pointed to a door at the back of the store. John wedged through the people and opened it onto a reeking closet where a window gaped wide above a hole in the ground with a footprint on each side. He pulled himself through the window into an alley, and he landed on his feet and ran.

Three blocks later, he slowed to a walk. A knife vendor gawked and John glanced down. His blood-smeared jacket hung open, revealing his bare six-pack. He zipped up the coat.

A block away, a sign reading Changezi’s tilted across the street front of a three-story cement apartment building. In front, a white panel van purred to life and whisked away as John crossed the street. John circled toward Changezi’s dwelling at the back of the building. He turned the corner and froze.

Changezi’s goat pen hung open, and his three nannies clustered at his front door. John’s skin prickled. Even Changezi’s youngest child would not be so careless with such valuable property. He drew his pistol and shooedthe goats the five steps into the pen. Then he knocked at the manager’s door. Silence answered—a sound unprecedented from a home with two wives and five young children.

John bounded up the steps to Martin’s old apartment door. A bullet hole gaped next to the doorknob, and splinters littered the ground. His heart racing, he hugged the wall, pistol in hand, and tried the knob. The door swung wide. More silence.

He ducked low and peeked around the corner into the apartment’s shadowed hallway. Nothing. He crept up the passage to the living room.

A threadbare divan squatted under a window next to a weathered table that had been tipped sideways. Two straight-backed chairs stood by an upended bowl with two apples on the floor.

“Come out,” John said.

A man rose, his hands up. His gaze riveted to the bloodstains on John’s jacket, and his knees quivered. “Don’t shoot. I have a wife and child. Please.” A woman in a navy-blue headscarf peered from behind him. She clutched a bundle in her arms.

John lowered his weapon slightly. “I’m looking for a man named Martin. He’s English. My height and build. Blond hair and blue eyes. Have you seen him?”

The man’s eyes grew wide. He shook his head. “I saw nothing.”

John dropped his pistol to his side. “I don’t even need to know your name. What happened, and did you see him?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened.”

The woman’s glance darted from John to her husband and back. Then she lowered her eyes and stared at the child in her arms.

“It’s clear a bullet came through that door recently. I’m not with whoever did that. I only want to find my friend.” John retrieved an apple from the floor and settled into a chair with the manner of an overlord. “I can see something happened here, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.” He raised the apple to take a bite.

“Wait,” the man said.

John moved the apple away from his mouth and cocked his head.

“I saw a blond man in the hallway. I was taking out my trash, and he ran out of the flat next door. He jumped down the rubbish chute. Then three men ran up the stairs and started shooting. I barely made it back inside.”

John stood. “Have you seen these men before?”

“Never.”

“What did they look like?”

The man shifted and glanced toward the door, as if expecting the men to reappear. His voice was barely audible. “Black hair and gray clothing. That is all I saw.”

John’s mind flashed on the shooters at the market, and dark fear unfolded. He tossed the unbitten apple to the man. “Thank you.”

He readied his Makarov and stole from the apartment. The next door slanted ajar. Standing against the wall, John reached out and tapped it. It creaked open. A sharp whiff of bleach wafted into the hallway. He peered inside.

Chaos. A table skewed sideways, kitchen drawers dangled, and stuffing sprouted from chair cushions. No sign of Martin. John scanned the debris and noticed a minute red spot on the carpet. He knelt down and touched it. Then he sniffed. The iron tang of blood filled his nostrils.

John bolted down the stairs to the trash room. A red trail spotted from the Dumpster to the back door and stopped. A chill ran up his spine. He combed the alley. It was empty—no one and no clues. Martin was gone.

***

Author Bios

Piper Bayard is an author and a recovering attorney with a college degree or two. She is also a belly dancer and a former hospice volunteer. She has been working daily with her good friend Jay Holmes for the past decade, learning about foreign affairs, espionage history, and field techniques for the purpose of writing fiction and nonfiction. She currently pens espionage nonfiction and international spy thrillers with Jay Holmes, as well as post-apocalyptic fiction of her own.

Jay Holmes is a forty-five-year veteran of field espionage operations with experience spanning from the Cold War fight against the Soviets, the East Germans, and the various terrorist organizations they sponsored to the present Global War on Terror. He is unwilling to admit to much more than that. Piper is the public face of their partnership.

Together, Bayard & Holmes author non-fiction articles and books on espionage and foreign affairs, as well as fictional international spy thrillers. They are also the bestselling authors of The Spy Bride from the Risky Brides Bestsellers Collection and were featured contributors for Social In Worldwide, Inc.

When they aren’t writing or, in Jay’s case, busy with “other work,” Piper and Jay are enjoying time with their families, hiking, exploring back roads of America, talking foreign affairs, laughing at their own rude jokes until the wee hours, and questing for the perfect chocolate cake recipe.

Social Media Links

Website: https://bayardandholmes.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/piper.bayard

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PiperBayard

Purchase Links

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3UVvUkr

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/71953522-the-leopard-of-cairo

Friday Feature Author Interview with Elise Cooper: The Deepest Kill by Lisa Black

Book Description

For software pioneer Martin Post, the third richest man in America, his private compound on the Florida coast is a sunny no-man’s-land separating his family from the rest of the world. Now, expert forensic analysts Ellie Carr and Rachael Davies of the renowned Locard Institute have been summoned to its dark side.

Martin’s pregnant daughter, Ashley, had ventured on a day trip in her motorboat into the Gulf, only to wash up dead on a nearby shore. Although the local coroner determined her death was an accident, Ellie and Rachael soon confirm Martin’s gravest fear: His daughter was murdered. Was it a kidnapping gone wrong? Or something even more brutal? Ashley and her husband, Greg, had been working working with Martin on a revolutionary new defense initiative for the US military – could espionage have played a part in her death? Martin believes Greg is behind the murder, and the spoiled charmer does set off Rachel’s deception radar. If the widower didn’t kill Ashley himself, why isn’t he more upset that she’s dead?

Drawn into the Posts’ increasingly dangerous family dynamic, Ellie and Rachael must work hard and fast to discover what secrets are buried at the heart of the crime. Because the churning waters of the Gulf are getting rougher. And soon, Ellie and Rachael themselves will be in danger of getting crushed in their depths.

***

Elise’s Thoughts

The Deepest Kill by Lisa Black brings back forensic investigators Dr Ellie Carr and Dr Rachael Davies of the Locard Institute. Once again readers get a glimpse into the forensic world as Black uses her own experiences as a forensic scientist to intertwine information within the riveting plot and readers will not be disappointed.

Carr and Davies are asked by billionaire Martin Post to investigate his pregnant daughter’s death. Ashley had taken out her boat into the Florida Gulf, and just disappeared until her body washed ashore. Both scientists determine that her death was not accidental but murder. Her husband, Greg, is considered the number one suspect. But because Greg, Ashley, and Post were working on a revolutionary defense initiative for the US military, some think that foreign agents might be involved. Thus, FBI agents Michael Tyler and Luis Alvarez are brought into the investigation.

Also adding to the storyline is the coast setting and the weather that appear as a character. Not to mention that Black gives more details of Ellie’s backstory whose mother died under suspicious circumstances and her death was also ruled drowning.

***

Author Interview

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

Lisa Black: Throughout the series readers will discover more of Ellie’s history that is relevant to what is happening. This story popped into my head as I was thinking about defense contracting and the Laci Peterson case. I describe it as the Laci Peterson case if her father was Bill Gates, although I never worked on it. I did watch a documentary about it.

EC: Do you like switching off from featuring as the main character, Ellie, and Rachel?

LB: I want both in the story. It depends on what needs to be done because their expertise is in different areas. It depends on what they are investigating. If it deals with pathology and anatomy Rachel will be featured more, but if it is about fingerprints then Ellie will be featured. It depends on what is called for with the investigation.

EC: Deception, detection, and body language are mentioned. Does it play a role in forensic analysis?

LB: Not really, it was what a detective does. But a class was offered for the police officers in detection and deception. I was allowed to attend it. It was a two-day class which I found interesting. I got a lot of ideas for this story. For example, what was told about people’s feet. I put a scene in about it. People know that they should cover their faces, but a person’s feet can betray them. There must be a baseline that should be interpreted.

EC: Did the setting play a role in the story? I laughed when I read what you said about your husband and moving to Florida.

LB: I live in Florida now. I have accepted the move he wanted to make, but still would rather have stayed where I was because I loved Cleveland where my job and family are. I wanted to present how I felt when I first came here. It was a shock. I hoped to have a little fun presenting an outsider’s view of Florida. There are hurricanes, and in summer it is hotter than heck and very humid. Florida has two seasons, raining season and not raining season.

EC: What about the boat scenes?

LB: When I was a child in Lake Erie, we had a boat, so I am comfortable around boats. I love boats. This was also inspired by the Laci Peterson case because they think the husband dumped her body in the water.

EC: You put in the forensics about the water?

LB: Yes, being in the water changes a body. The way it decomposes and what happens to it after death. A body is affected greatly after being submerged. This helped me to keep the mystery going.

EC: Was the father’s dead wife presented like a hologram?

LB: No. I was basing it on smart phones, Alexa, and Siri, all the artificial types. He just gave it his wife’s name so when he asked a question he referred to her name.

EC: How would you describe Ellie?

LB: Someone who wants to fit in, committed, athletic, and does not handle change very well. She does have insomnia. Having to move around a lot as a child has made her a little insecure. Having her adjust to new living situations made her crave stability. She was always raised by aunts, uncles, and cousins.

EC: How would you describe the husband, Greg?

LB: Energetic, amiable, rich, shallow, and arrogant. Picture a spoiled frat boy. He is used to women giving him what he wants because he is cute and the rest of the world giving him what he wants because he is rich. He was born rich.

EC: What about your next book?

LB: It is titled Not Who We Expected. The plot has this aging rock star trying to make a comeback. He calls the Locard Institute because of his missing daughter and is very worried after the boyfriend turns up dead.

THANK YOU!!

***

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Her Silent Bones by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for HER SILENT BONES (Delaney Pace Book #1) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins on this Bookouture Blog Tour.

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

***

Book Description

Fifteen years ago I watched my father’s murder.

Now, having never truly recovered from losing her father all those years ago, Detective Delaney Pace is devastated when her brother and sister-in-law are killed in a car crash. Packing up her life she heads back to the rugged cowboy town of Kearney, Wyoming. Her niece Kateena is just eleven years old and Delaney will do anything to keep her safe…

Now there’s another killer on the loose, and he’s already taken his first victim.

New to the local police force, when a body is found on a secluded mountain trail Delaney is called to the scene. Surrounded by imposing pine trees, a young woman lies still in the moonlight. Gazing into her dark, unblinking eyes Delaney’s heart pounds wildly in her chest as she recognises the victim. It’s her beloved sister-in-law: Kateena’s mother, Lila. But she died weeks before. Didn’t she?

There’s evil lurking in this town and I’ll stop at nothing to hunt down the truth and deliver justice. With Kateena traumatised all over again, when Delaney links Lila’s murder back to the place where her own father was killed she realizes she must face her own dark past to catch the man responsible. But little does she know that the killer has already made their next deadly move. Back at home, Kateena should be in bed sleeping soundly, but her room is empty. Kateena is missing…

Can Delaney uncover the truth behind the killings and save Kateena before it’s too late?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/202526858-her-silent-bones?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=3u5UkiffHc&rank=1

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out 0f 5 Stars

HER SILENT BONES (Delaney Pace Book #1) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins is an exciting and fast-paced new crime thriller/police procedural series featuring a tough and determined female detective in small town Kearney, Wyoming. This is a new to me author and a very promising start to a new series that I am looking forward to following in the future.

Delaney Pace returns to her hometown after ten years of ice-trucking to take care of her eleven-year-old niece, Kateena, who has been orphaned with the death of her parents. She goes to the county sheriff and gets her job back as an investigator. Right away she is thrown into a murder investigation with a new detective from California who is talented with computers, but out of his depth in the wilds of Wyoming and possibly hiding an agenda of his own.

With one woman dead and another missing, the killer then raises the stakes when he takes Delaney’s niece. Can Delaney discover the identity of the killer and rescue her niece before it is too late?

This is a crime thriller with multiple surprising plot twists that kept me turning the pages, especially in the last few chapters. The plot throughout moves at a fast rate with ever escalating stakes. The crime/killer plot in this book is solved, but there is an over-arching plot involving another antagonist and questions from Delaney’s past that are uncovered and still need answered in future books. So, there is a cliffhanger for that plotline. Delaney is street tough, tenacious, and intelligent and takes a beating in this story, but just keeps going. While others see her as intimidating, she loves her niece and bulldog and is willing to help others down on their luck. She is a complex character that surprised me on several occasions, and I am looking forward to seeing how her character evolves in future books.

I recommend this captivating start to a new crime thriller/police procedural series with a strong female protagonist, and I will be checking out other books by this author, also.

***

About the Author

USA Today bestselling and Silver Falchion Best Mystery winning mystery/thriller/suspense author (and recovering attorney and investigator) who splits time between an off-the-grid lodge on the face of Wyoming’s Bighorn Mountains and a rustic cabin on Maine’s Lake Mooselookmeguntic with her husband, kids and grandkids, rescue pets and sled dog, and draft cross horses.

Writes for Bookouture and independently.

Host of Crime & Wine: Novelist Chats with Pamela Fagan Hutchins.

Social Media Links

Website: https://pamelafaganhutchins.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pamela.fagan.hutchins.author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PamelotH

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/pamela-fagan-hutchins

Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Broadcast Blues by R.G. Belsky

BROADCAST BLUES

by R.G. Belsky

JANUARY 1-26, 2024 VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Review for BROADCAST BLUES (Clare Carlson Mystery Book #6) by R.G. Belsky on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

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

***

Book Synopsis

Wendy Kyle took secrets to her grave—now, Clare Carlson is digging them up

New York City has no shortage of crime, making for a busy schedule for TV newswoman Clare Carlson. But not all crimes are created equal, and when an explosive planted in a car detonates and kills a woman, Clare knows it’ll be a huge story for her.

But it’s not only about the story—Clare also wants justice for the victim, Wendy Kyle. Wendy had sparked controversy as an NYPD officer, ultimately getting kicked off the force after making sexual harassment allegations and getting into a physical altercation with her boss. Then, she started a private investigations business, catering to women who suspected their husbands of cheating. Undoubtedly, Wendy had angered many people with her work, so the list of her suspected murderers is seemingly endless.

Despite the daunting investigation, Clare dives in headfirst. As she digs deeper, she attracts the attention of many rich and powerful people who will stop at nothing to keep her from breaking the truth about the death of Wendy Kyle—and exposing their personal secrets that Wendy took to her grave.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/125637341-broadcast-blues?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=HHoRFuP6Lw&rank=1

BROADCAST BLUES

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Oceanview Publishing
Publication Date: January 2, 2024
Number of Pages: 320
ISBN: 9781608095315
ISBN10: 1608095312)
Series: Clare Carlson Mystery Book 6

While all of the novels in the Clare Carlson Mystery Series stand on their own and can be read in any order, the publication sequence is:

Yesterday’s News
Below the Fold
The Last Scoop
Beyond the Headlines
It’s News to Me
Broadcast Blues

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

BROADCAST BLUES (Clare Carlson Mystery Book #6) by R.G. Belsky is another intriguing and fast paced addition to this mystery/crime thriller series featuring New York journalist turned TV news director, Clare Carlson. While this is the sixth book in the series, each of these stories is easily read as a standalone mystery/thriller.

New York Channel 10 News Director Clare Carlson is waiting for a lead story for her six o’clock news broadcast and once again the news gods deliver. Wendy Kyle is a former NYCP officer turned private eye who is murdered by an explosive device planted on her car door. Clare begins to dig into Wendy’s death and her cases that are specifically geared to help women with cheating high-profile husbands. But Wendy also made many enemies while on at the NYPD before she was kicked off the force.

Clare is once again juggling her news director duties with her journalist inquisitiveness for a big story that she wants to break. With plenty of suspects and leads, Clare might have bitten off more than she can handle this time.

I am always excited to get a new Clare Carlson mystery book. The plot in each always pulls me in with multiple suspects, false leads, and red herrings to the point where I never guess the endings. Clare is such a perfectly flawed realistic character. I love Clare and the different perspective of having the crime being investigated by a journalist, rather than a detective for a change.

I highly recommend this mystery/crime thriller book and every book in this series.

***

Author Bio

R.G. Belsky is an award-winning author of crime fiction and a journalist in New York City. His newest mystery, BROADCAST BLUES, was published on January 2 by Oceanview. It is the sixth in a series featuring Clare Carlson, the news director for a New York City TV station. The first book, Yesterday’s News, was named Best Mystery of 2018 at Deadly Ink. The second, Below the Fold, won the Foreward INDIES award for Best Mystery of 2019. Belsky has published 20 novels—all set in the New York city media world where he has had a long career as a top editor at the New York Post, New York Daily News, Star magazine and NBC News. He also writes thrillers under the name Dana Perry. And he is a contributing writer for The Big Thrill magazine and BookTrib.

Social Media Links

www.rgbelsky.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @dickbelsky
Instagram – @dickbelsky
Twitter/X – @DickBel
Facebook – @RGBelsky

Purchase Links

Bookshop.org | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Oceanview Publishing

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KINGSUMO GIVEAWAY

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