Synopsis

Dying has its perks…mostly. Bullied teen, Ember O’Neill goes from the weird girl to the tyrant of her school when she is resurrected from a deadly prank. Now secretly supernatural, she dethrones the school drama queen and snags the hot new guy, but her reign is at risk when the Order, a heretical sect, sends an assassin to eliminate her. Ember must expose her powers, potentially losing all she has gained, in order to save herself and her friends as her killer closes in.

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Excerpt

“I love that.” He reached up and pulled a piece of hair away from her cheek. “I love your innocence. I love your hair. And those eyes…don’t get me started.” He ran his thumb gently across her bottom lip. “And these, right here.” His voice dipped low. His tongue darted across his lips as he looked into her eyes.

“Can I kiss you, Ember O’Neill?”

Finally. Butterflies took flight in her stomach. Slowly, she nodded her head. She had been waiting for this moment. Ever since she let her guard down and began trusting him, she had imagined what it would be like to kiss his perfect lips.

Logan reached up, placing one hand under her hair at the base of her neck. Electricity buzzed throughout her body. With his other hand, he cupped her cheek, pulling her closer.

She held her breath as his lips parted and pressed against hers with the lightest touch. In an instant, their bodies became one. The world melted away. It was just Ember and Logan on the dance floor. Her greatest wish for the night was coming true. She was kissing Logan.

Too soon, he pulled away. Eyes sparkling in the disco light, his thumb dragged across her bottom lip. She wondered if he could feel her racing pulse.

The kiss was sweet. Perfect. Ember smiled, remembering to breathe.

Both dimples asserted themselves as his lips shifted into a devilish grin. “You taste better than I imagined.”

About the Author

Kerrie Faye is a Gen X wife and mom who found her passion to write later in life. A graduate of Murray State University, she has a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education. Raised in Western Kentucky, where her debut novel, DEAD GIRL, takes place, the author currently resides near the Rocky Mountain Flatirons in Colorado, where there is far less humidity but not nearly enough BBQ. Her debut novel, DEAD GIRL, will be published on February 26, 2024, by The Wild Rose Press.

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Synopsis

A ghost’s antics, a harrowing moose chase, a hypnosis session, and smuggled booze lead to spilled secrets and betrayal, but do they also lead to murder?

At a hot springs retreat in Montana, whiskey-swigging Maude, the nearly eighty-year-old chef, longs for the glory days when the retreat hosted martini-sipping celebrities instead of long-haired hippies who refuse to wear deodorant. Brooke, feisty, adventurous, and a bit reckless, proposes a reunion at the retreat with her best friends to get away from the chaos of her life with teenagers and the emotional aftermath of her postponed wedding. One of those friends, Tracy, has devoted her life to her children and her husband despite her excruciating boredom. But a long-held secret could cost her the most important friendships in her life. Haunting the place is a ghost who, in life, dealt with tragedy by turning to prostitution which led to her murder over 100 years ago at the very place they all are staying.

What Happens in Montana explores friendship, betrayal, and forgiveness with blunt truth and witty insights. Together, these friends learn to navigate empty nests, infidelity, deception, and poltergeists. Most importantly, they learn their friendship is strong enough to get them through it all.

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Review

This story blends friendship with a hint of mystery and a ghost!

Four women decide to take a weekend getaway to a hotel in Montana, in need of much repair. At least parts of it. But what they don’t anticipate is finding their true selves, uncovering some secrets, and making new friends.

This story is told from multiple points of view. This can get distracting, but it helps, especially when Simone, the ghost, is telling her story. I really enjoyed learning about her life and why she died and was stuck at this hotel. I really liked Maude. She has been at the hotel/retreat center for thirty years. That is a long time in one spot, but she loves it there and has a connection with Simone. She may not know why Simone is there or what she needs to move on, but she still feels a connection to her. Then, there are the four women who came to this retreat to reconnect. While they had met as younger women, they were spread out across the country now. There are secrets that come to light, and it is amazing how revealing those secrets freed the women up to be themselves and not in fear of the secret being revealed before the right time.

I enjoyed the story and can appreciate how this weekend away might impact their lives. There is a sideline story about Maude’s daughter who died and how Brooke reminds her of that daughter. But we are left hanging as to what happened to the daughter and how it impacted her marriage. I would have liked to have known more about that scenario. There is also a lothario at the hotel, Max. Let’s just say that Max is not who you think he is, and luckily, no one is hurt in their interactions with him.

This was a fun read, and we give it 4 paws up.

Excerpt

I glanced at the bird-like woman who sat across from him and wondered how she kissed him with that facial hair. Didn’t it smell like whatever he ate? Or scratch her face? Didn’t errant hair ever tickle her nose and make her sneeze? Maybe they had been together so long that they didn’t really kiss much anymore. Just a peck hello and goodbye. I supposed I could handle facial hair if that was my only interaction with it.

“Hello, I’m Maude, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you anything to drink besides water?”

“Water is fine for me. Dear, what would you like?”

“Oh, I’d like sparkling water. One of those flavored ones, if you have it. Not one that has calories or sugar or anything. Just the essence of lime or tangerine or whatever. Do you know what I mean?” She looked at me with big, pleading eyes. I saw such hunger in those eyes. Lord, this woman needed a huge steak and a baked potato with butter and sour cream. Then she needed a good bottle of wine to go with it and a German chocolate cake to finish it all. This woman didn’t look as though she had been properly nourished and decades. But what I saw most in her eyes was that she had not allowed herself to live. She imposed such restrictions on her life – what to eat, what to wear, what friends to have, what church to attend, what car to drive, what words to say – that she forgot what she wanted. She forgot how to live. She was just going through the motions. She might as well already be dead.

I wanted to tell her to forget calories, forget working out at least five days a week, forget always needing to be a size zero, forget what others think, forget keeping her house perfectly in order, for surely this woman’s house was always in order, and throw all caution to the wind. Eat an entire gallon of ice cream while binge watching Grace and Frankie. Stay in your pajamas till noon and dance to Uptown Funk with the volume so loud the neighbors will call the police. Hike to the top of Boulder peak at dawn to watch the sunrise regardless of the animals you might encounter. Tell your husband to shave that nasty dead rat on his face and kiss him like you did when you were a teen teenager. Just don’t live like life will last forever.

Instead, I said, “Sure. We have lime, grapefruit, and coconut sparkling water.”

About the Author

Kim McCollum graduated from Barnard College as a Japanese major and headed to work on Wall Street. Many miserable all-nighters and the birth of her first child led her to stay home to raise her children. Eventually, she pursued her passion for writing. An excerpt from this novel appeared in The Copperfield Review Quarterly, and her short stories have appeared in The Dillydoun Review, Beyond Solace, and Fiction on the Web. She lives in Bozeman, MT, with her husband, Brian, and their blended menagerie of five kids, two dogs, and seven spoiled chickens. What Happens in Montana is her first novel.

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Synopsis

A troubled marriage and love story set against the background of the AIDS pandemic and the American wars in Vietnam and Iraq lie at the heart of After Camus. Saul Davidoff and Tolle Riordan, who meet during a protest against the Vietnam War, marry, live through the Plague Years of the AIDS epidemic, raise a family … and burn out. Camus is a hero to both of them: Tolle, a young dancer and choreographer, has a liaison with him in Paris shortly before his death; Saul, inspired by Camus’s The Plague, becomes an infectious disease (and AIDS) doctor … and Camus becomes a ghostly presence central to our story.

Hoping to repair their marriage, Tolle and Saul return to a village in the South of France where they lived when they were first in love and where Camus lived when recovering from a siege of tuberculosis. The novel draws a vivid portrait of a marriage that spans a series of historical events: from the Vietnam War through the AIDs epidemic and Gulf War to the Iraq War and the advent of the right-wing Le Pen movement in France. After Camus is both a fictional meditation on recent history and a compelling tale of how various forms of love and friendship do and do not survive in times of social and political upheaval. In this novel of enchantments, internationally acclaimed author Jay Neugeboren is at the peak of his powers as a master storyteller.

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Excerpt

Often, when he doubted his love for her—or, more exactly, his capacity for love—or wondered why and how they had stayed with each other for more than forty years in a time when most people they knew—friends, relatives, colleagues—had divorced and moved on to new couplings and marriages—he would go back to the beginning.  This is how we met, he’d say to himself, and by telling himself the story again, no matter how many times he did, and no matter his knowledge that the effect of doing so was transient, he would for a brief while be reassured.  But reassured about what?  That they had been truly, deeply in love once upon a time?  That they had not erred in marrying, or in having children, or in remaining married?  That she did still love him and was devoted to him no matter the ways, they had, through the years, distanced themselves from one another?

More likely, he mused—they were driving south along a country road in France on a clear, unseasonably warm early February morning—Tolle had insisted they not take autoroutes, that they wind their way down from Paris at a leisurely pace—by conjuring up the first time they met, he was able to feel again what he rarely did of late: some genuine affection for Tolle, for the young man he had once been, and for the man he had become.

He saw himself standing across the street from the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Veteran’s Day, 1965.  The air was crisp, the sky blue and cloudless, the crowd of anti-war protestors, among whom he stood, animated and happy.  How, on such a day, standing side by side with people of like mind and heart, could one believe anything was amiss with the world, or that whatever was amiss could not, with good will and hard work, be set right?  Across the street, crowds that lined the sidewalk behind police barricades with their banners, posters, and flags—in support of the war in Vietnam—seemed equally happy, so that the chants each side launched into the air seemed little  more than friendly cheers for rival football teams.

Tolle, in the front row of protestors, wore a pale V-neck lavender sweater, a purple paisely scarf knotted loosely around her neck.  Her wheat-colored hair,  shoulder-length, was, in the autumn sunlight, laced with threads of gold, and she appeared to him to have stepped straight out of a Saks Fifth Avenue advertisement so as to take her place—out of place—among those whose fashions seemed, for the most part, to have been purchased from clothing racks in Salvation Army thrift stores.

She seemed the kind of woman—beautiful, cool, poised—who had always had the power to intimidate him: a woman who, he assumed, went to debutante balls with self-assured men who were destined to become diplomats, to run Fortune 500 companies, to own yachts, and—always, always—to sweat less than he did.  He imagined she read Jane Austen, vacationed in Monaco, had lunch at the Plaza.  What, then, was she doing in the front line of anti-war protestors?  And what could a young woman like her ever want with an intense, curly-headed Jewish boy from Brooklyn?

Still, when she turned and looked his way, and when she smiled at him—a quizzical glance, as in: We’ve met before, yes?—he gained the courage he needed, pushed through the crowd, and made his way to her side.

He began talking at once—about the rally, about the weather, about the war, about the organization she was with (she held a placard that identified her as a member of the Committee for a SANE Nuclear Policy)—about whatever came to mind, and she responded easily.  Encouraged, and eager to impress, he alluded to the fact that he had rearranged his schedule at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital, where he was doing a residency in infectious disease, in order to be at the rally, and also that he was a member of The Resistance and, although above draft age, was intending soon, in a public ceremony, to burn his draft card with those of draft age.  When chants from both sides of the street grew louder, she tugged on her right ear with thumb and forefinger to indicate that it was difficult to hear him.  Her pale hazel-green eyes, above ruddy high-colored cheeks, seemed almost translucent, and—what he had not expected—warm and inviting.

He looked to the right—uptown, to where she pointed—and saw that a military band was approaching, its music—Sousa’s familiar “Stars and Stripes Forever”—blasting away.  Behind the band, a phalanx of soldiers in camouflage khakis, rifles to their shoulders, marched in lock-step, policemen on motorcyles cruising slowly at their sides.

Closer to him, she asked his name.

“Saul,” he said.  “Saul Davidoff.”

She shook his hand.  “I’m glad to meet you, Saul Davidoff,” she said, then held to his arm briefly.  “But would you excuse me, please?” she said, and turned away, slipped under the wooden barricade, walked out onto Fifth Avenue and, along with about twenty others, sat down in the middle of the street, directly in the path of the oncoming parade.

Excerpt from AFTER CAMUS. Copyright © 2024 by Jay Neugeboren. Published by Madville Publishing. Reprinted by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.

About the Author

JAY NEUGEBOREN is the author of 22 books, including five prize-winning novels, four collections of award-winning stories, and two prize-winning books of non-fiction about mental illness: Imagining Robert: My Brother, Madness, and Survival and Transforming Madness: New Lives for People Living with Mental Illness.

His stories and essays have appeared widely in The New York Review of Books, The Atlantic Monthly, The American Scholar, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Psychiatric Services, Ploughshares, Black Clock, Tablet, Commonweal,  among others, and have been reprinted in more than 50 anthologies, including Best American Short Stories, Penguin Modern Stories, and The O. Henry Prize Stories.

He is the recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Massachusetts Council on the Arts, and is the only author to have won six consecutive Syndicated Fiction Prizes.  His archive is housed at the Harry Ransom Humanities Center in Austin, Texas.

Nuegeboren was a Professor and Writer-in-Residence at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, as well as the Director of the Graduate MFA Writing Program there. He has taught at other universities, including Stanford, Indiana, S.U.N.Y. at Old Westbury, and Freiburg (Germany).  He now lives and writes in New York City, where he is on the faculty of the Writing Program of the Graduate School of the Arts at Columbia University.

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Synopsis

Kate’s home is filled with turmoil that leaks out into her small town as her famous mother draws her family into international power struggles. Her parents worry about Kate’s interaction with her invisible friend Destiny… who can’t be real… or can she?

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Excerpt

Gem thought Kate was, for lack of a better word, unique. Hints of her mother’s lovely feminine charm appeared in Kate. Beyond that, she and Margot bore little resemblance to one another. Margot’s celebrity charm, that set her up to be the star of every gathering, was absent in Kate. Instead, Kate almost vanished into the background.

The forest’s ability to entice Kate to enter, appeared natural to Gem. Her long, straight hair lacked the gentle curls present in Margot’s hair. It had tones present in the bark of many evergreens… brown, mixed with hints of red, and flecks of yellow, as if sunlight peeking through the leaves deposited itself there. A small section in her hair, just around her right ear, stood out as it was a mixture of pearl-white and opalescent tones. Deep-green of the evergreen trees played with lighter tones of green, hints of blue, and occasional specks of gold in Kate’s eyes, and they seemed to glow or sparkle when her curiosity piqued.

Thankfully, she had more of her father’s character traits than those of her mother. Even in her most introverted and withdrawn moments, Kate agreed to help anyone who asked her. She assisted with tasks, and unlike her mother, Kate preferred doing so without recognition. Her father, Rob, behaved the same way. Neither sought volunteer opportunities, but both volunteered when asked. Both insisted that their contribution was minor compared to others.

Margot was a mesmerizing woman. Glamorous and blessed with a perfect figure, she was accustomed to being surrounded by admirers everywhere she went. Her habit of changing her hair and eye color to fit her changing mood and style set her apart.
…..
Kate was more like a mist, or a fantasy creature one could sense, but almost not see. One might refer to Margot as a distinct style of fantasy creature from her daughter.

Despite her vanity, Margot’s innate charisma charmed people, although those who witnessed her darker side bristled at how cold she became around Kate and Rob. Oblivious to her coldness, Rob melted with the slightest flash of her smile. Gem saw the smiles she aimed at Rob lacked love. Her harsh words aimed at Rob were hard to listen to, so they must have felt worse having them directed at him. Whether a strength or a fault, Rob’s patience approximated being limitless.
….
Kate seemed to occupy another world much of the time and frequently forgot to play her roles in the other children’s games. As she drifted off to places alone, Kate seemed to believe she was following someone.

Some locals wondered if Kate inherited an artist’s imagination. Others theorized she might be that type of slightly mad person, who is not a threat, but doesn’t fully grasp reality. Many noticed

Kate was polite and helpful beyond what one would expect from the average child.

Kate had a quality that some of the superstitious folks felt reflected the fairy folk of the old world. Gem avoided those discussions but understood how people might form such impressions. Kate knew odd things and never had a satisfying explanation for her knowledge.
….
He heard Kate say several times that ‘Destiny’ showed her things. ‘Destiny’ seemed personified and linked with the pronoun her, so he doubted it was a concept, rather than the name of a being, that she was referring to.

Margot lost her poise when Kate mentioned ‘Destiny’ and dragged Kate to the side. After Margot’s menacing whispers, Kate would return and apologize for speaking of ‘Destiny’ as if it referred to something real.

Sometimes in response, people laughed and commented that many people believed in destiny. They said, “Maybe people from Central Intelligence City believe they have full control over their lives, but people in Waterly know better.” He could see their comments confused Kate.

From what Gem could see, Kate believed Destiny was an actual being, and a female one at that. Maybe Margot believed that as well sometimes? He was aware her status would be jeopardized by admitting she had such beliefs, so it didn’t surprise him if that pressure added to her discomfort with the already unsettling idea.

About the Author

I have had characters and stories in my mind for as far back as I have memories. For me, writing has been a hobby, comfort, and a path through some school degrees… but until now, not shared widely. My mother loved imaginative play, and my father was a teacher of multiple languages. They opened my eyes to the wonder of how language shapes our view of the world, and how what we experience shapes our language. That undoubtedly influenced my storytelling. My stories are told in translation. For instance, people there aren’t a perfect map to people here, but have some similarities we can relate to.

I would love to have the characters, worlds, and stories escape my mind and bring joy to as many people as possible… while keeping a little distance from me, the storyteller.

My time is mostly spent writing, traveling to see family, cuddling dogs, gardening, walking, hiking, etc.

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Cover design and author “photo” artist: Kaleb Leino

Synopsis

Step into the captivating world of Andrea de Laney, leader of the DeLaney Mob. In this gripping tale, Andrea finds herself entangled in a web of personal and professional challenges as her organization faces relentless attacks. Amidst the chaos, she unexpectedly encounters Valerie Cross, a resilient young woman whose own past traumas resonate deeply with Andrea. As their connection deepens, Andrea begins to realize the void that has long existed in her life.

As DeLaney prepares to engage in a fierce showdown against their rivals, The Fury and Ban Jack Mafia, Andrea assumes the role of a cunning mastermind, strategizing to outmaneuver them all and emerge victorious. However, the stakes are higher than ever, and survival becomes the ultimate goal.

Join Andrea de Laney on a suspenseful journey where loyalty, ambition, and unexpected love converge. Will she navigate the treacherous path ahead and emerge triumphant, or will the odds prove insurmountable?

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Other books in the series:

Book 2: Power In Vengeance

Book 3: Power in Justice

Book 4: Power in Loyalty – Preorder today!

Excerpt

Andrea’s stomach flip-flopped as the main door closed behind Valerie. She wondered how she let this get so out of hand. Scarlett had tried to kiss her while Valerie was in the apartment with them. Of all the stupid things her friend had done this week, that was the lowest of them all. She knew Scarlett was just using a tactic they used before where they fought and made up many times over the years, but today was the last time she could ever allow that to happen.

Before Andrea could bring herself to turn around and give Scarlett an ultimatum the redhead started speaking. “The Fury are trying to kill you. Your own brother hired them. Bryan betrayed you on every level. We chased a man in the tunnels where you were shot, and Allie literally pulled a bullet out of your arm. You have a very important city council vote tomorrow about a project that means a lot to you. You need to name a new number two and we have to find an accountant you can trust. That doesn’t even include all the other businesses DeLaney has and the things that need to happen with them this week. I mean fuck Andrea, on top of all of that you decide this 26 year old, who is 12 years younger than you, who you’ve known for less than a week, is suddenly your great love or something?” Scarlett chuckled darkly and Andrea heard the rustle of fabric behind her. She didn’t turn around though, she knew she wasn’t finished. “You know what giving her that necklace is going to tell everyone and what they are going to say don’t you?”

Andrea turned and looked directly at Scarlett who was sitting on the edge of the bed. “That she is mine. That if someone, including you, so much as touches her, looks at her wrong, or threatens her, I will kill them. I knew what it meant when I did it and if you think for one second that I didn’t you don’t know me at all.” She straightened her shirt again and fixed her belt while trying to gather her words. “A few days ago you told me I could handle a million things at once better than anyone you’ve ever seen. Now you think I can’t handle any of it because of Valerie?” Andrea laughed and rolled her eyes. “If it weren’t for her this week, I would’ve already killed Asher, blown up half the city trying to eliminate Brody and The Fury, and I would have met with the mayor and told him to get behind my proposal or I’d kill him next and run this city the way my grandfather did.”

“So what? I should be thanking her for preventing all out war?” Scarlett ran her hand over the sheets and rolled her eyes too. “You don’t want war and I know that. You should’ve just fucked her and sent her on her way that first night like you do everyone else!” Scarlett ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “Now that I think about it, maybe the fact that she’s not satisfying your needs is the reason you’re so pissed.”

She wasn’t going to play these games anymore. Andrea stepped closer and in a tone that left no room for questions as to what it meant, she said, “You have until I walk into that meeting with you and Victor downstairs to figure out if you can handle this. Because none of the other things you listed are relevant to you if you can’t get over yourself and move past my relationship with Valerie and your own misguided feelings.” Andrea grabbed her jacket off the dresser and slipped it on. “And if you can’t, I suggest you get the fuck out of this building and out of my city because I’m not kidding, Scarlett. I’ve given you more leeway than I would give anyone else, but you are testing my patience and the limits of our friendship. Now, get out and make your choice.”

Scarlett swung her legs down to the ground and stood from the bed. She looked around the room. “Well, once again whatever Andrea de Laney says is the final word huh?” As she passed Andrea, she let their shoulders brush. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

As soon as she heard the door close, Andrea sat on the bed and took a deep breath. This wasn’t how she wanted to start her morning. There were actual problems she needed to solve and plans she needed to make. The last thing she needed today was this drama with Scarlett. Remembering the pain in Valerie’s eyes made her stomach drop. Andrea wondered just how much her girlfriend had heard and how far this whole scenario would set them back. With another deep breath to calm down a bit further, she stood and headed for the main door, but when she opened it there was no one in the hall. Bril was gone as was Valerie, and her heart started racing.

About the Author

Kirby Ann has always been captivated by the world of literature. From a young age, her love for reading laid the foundation for a lifelong passion for storytelling. It wasn’t until her twenties that she took up writing seriously, embarking on a journey of self-expression.

Away from writing, she finds joy on trips with friends and family, drawing inspiration from the new landscapes and cultures she encounters. When in need of a break, she immerses herself in the world of online gaming, finding both relaxation and creativity in the virtual realms.

In 2023, she took a bold step forward, deciding to share her works on a larger scale. As her professional writing career takes its first steps, she is filled with optimism and high hopes for the future. With a unique blend of Texas spirit, a love for storytelling, and a supportive network, she looks forward to weaving more tales that resonate with readers and leave a lasting impact.

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Synopsis

George and Murphy are two brothers who share everything – toys, secrets, and especially the love for their sweet grandmother. But one day, she goes to Heaven, and the brothers miss her a lot.

Then, something amazing happens. Bright red birds start showing up wherever they go. These aren’t just any birds; they seem special. Following these birds, George and Murphy go on a big adventure. Along the way, they learn that these birds have messages from their grandmother!

The story of When the Red Bird Flies is like a big, warm hug. It tells us that even when someone we love goes away, they’re still with us in different ways. Sometimes, they might send signs to let us know they’re watching over us. All we have to do is pay attention and believe.

So, join George and Murphy as they learn about love, memories, and the magical ways the world tells us that we’re never truly alone. With every chirp and flutter of the red bird’s wings, they find a little more happiness and remember all the fun times they had with their grandmother.

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Excerpt

On a cold night in November, a loving grandmother had gained her heavenly wings—this left all her family in tears but especially George. George said “How will we go on without her? I will miss her so terribly much, Mommy.” His parents told him that he would never be alone, that his grandmother may have left but she is still here—right here. “You can feel her, but you can’t see her. If we believe enough and ask her to send us signs to let us know she is watching over us, she will do just that—always look for the signs when you need them most.”

Shortly after his grandmother’s passing, George celebrated his seventh birthday. His parents tucked him into bed on the evening of his birthday. As his mom closed his door, she whispered: “Close your eyes and make a wish.” So, he did—he wished for his grandmother to send him a sign to let him know she is still with him.

About the Author

Courtney Reames Haydell, born to Bonnie Carville Reames and Michael Wilks Reames, is the youngest among six siblings.  Hailing from a small town in Louisiana, she’s an author deeply rooted in familial ties and the wonder of nature.  Drawing inspiration from her own experiences and surroundings, her stories often touch upon themes of love, loss and healing.  Courtney currently resides in Texas, where she finds joy in the company of her husband and two sons.  Through her writing, she hopes to touch young hearts, helping them navigate through life’s profound moments.

Hammers and Homicide (A Hometown Hardware Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Setting – Oregon
Crooked Lane Books (January 16, 2024)
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 280 pages

Synopsis

Perfect for fans of Kate Carlisle and Victoria Gilbert, when a body is found in a hardware store, will Dawna Carpenter’s sleuthing measure up to find the killer?

Recent sexagenarian widow Dawna Carpenter thought running her own hardware store after the death of her husband was hard enough. With her adult daughter, April, moving back into town, and Darlene, the annoying boutique owner next door to her shop poking around, Dawna has her hands full. But when she finds a dead man in the bathroom of her store, with a framing hammer by his side, she’s in way over her head.

The victim, Warren Highcastle, was a land developer who was looking to purchase the old theater in town to build a new hotel. Dawna and April, worried about the implications of the crime scene at the hardware store, put themselves on the case. They soon learn that Warren had made quite a few enemies in his short amount of time in town. As the suspect list starts growing, so too do the threats against Dawna and April. Can Dawna and April nail the killer before they strike again?

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Guest Post

Hello! I’m Dawna Carpenter, owner of Carpenter’s Corner Hardware in Pine Bluff, Oregon. What? You’ve never heard of Pine Bluff. I can’t say I’m surprised. When people think of Oregon, they envision Portland or the coast, but they don’t realize what a diverse state Oregon is. If you left Portland to drive here, you’re going to leave behind the lush rainforest feel of Western Oregon, then drive nearly four hours through the Columbia River Gorge and the plains before finally climbing into the Blue Mountains and meandering your way to our picturesque valley.

Wait a minute. Excuse me for a second.

Sorry, I’m back now. My author person rudely interrupted to inform me that Pine Bluff is a fictional town. That’s nonsense and I’m not going to listen to her negativity. Either way, real or imagined, Pine Bluff is a charming small town. My family moved here when I was only eight and it’s never crossed my mind to live anywhere else. Maybe that’s small minded of me, but I love my quirky little town. Bob, my late husband, and I raised our three children here, built two businesses and had a wonderful life. After Bob died, my oldest daughter wanted me to move in with her family over on the coast. But no, my roots are as firmly planted here as that big Elm tree in the front yard.

Besides the fact, I’m beginning to think Bob is still hanging around inside our big brick home. I can’t tell you how often his signature scent of sawdust and coffee swirl around the room, and I swear to you, occasionally he kisses me on the cheek. Plus, there’s Lilac. That sweet kitty crossed the rainbow bridge ages ago, but she’s been sleeping on my bed every night now for two weeks. If a cat spirit can comfort me with her presence, why not Bob?

And boy do I need comforting right now! Not that I can’t take care of myself. I can, for sure, but the other day a man was killed in the bathroom of my store. How crazy is that? I found his body, but better me than one of my customers. Now I’m worried that people will be too freaked out to shop in my store, and with that big box home improvement store that recently opened in the next town over, things could get dicey.

My daughter April and I are going to figure out who killed the poor man, though, and try to get things as back to normal as possible. I hate to point a finger, but there’s several Pine Bluffians I’m suspicious might’ve had something to do with the man’s demise. Oh, there’s April now. We have some snooping to do. I don’t want to keep her waiting, so I’ll cut this off and talk with you again soon.

Excerpt

I ended the call then reached into the cupboard for a glass and filled it with infused cucumber water from a pitcher in the refrigerator.

“See her where?” April filled another glass with cucumber water. “What’s going on?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Join the Women’s Service Club, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

I’d been trying to get April to join the organization ever since she’d taken over the decorating and furniture restoration side of my business, but so far, she’d refused.

“Whatever, Mom. I’m not ready to wear polyester pants and go to a meddling women’s meeting.” My daughter rolled her eyes and tapped her wrist like she was checking a watch. “At least not for another…oh, let’s see…twenty years.”

I threw my hands in the air and looked down at the pink-and-white striped T-shirt, cotton shorts, and denim shoes I wore. “Do you see polyester pants here? Don’t think so, missy.”

“No, but your meddling is showing. Better get it tucked back in.”

The two of us cracked up like a pair of cackling hens.

“Anyway, Evonne called an emergency meeting tonight. Without a feasible buyer for The Emery, we need to regroup and double our efforts to save the theater for Pine Bluff.”

“See? I knew I wouldn’t have to join your stuffy old ladies club to get the scoop. You can’t keep from talking about it.” April grinned. “But, seriously, it’s a good idea. What time’s your meeting?”

“Seven. Why? Are you coming with me?”

“Nope, not going with you. Will you stop, please?”

I laughed. “Never.”

“I think I’m going to head to the workshop and finish the dresser I’ve been working on. Maybe I’ll work until your meeting is over. It should give me a few hours to paint.”

Workshop was an overreaching word for the storage unit where April refinished and stored the pieces of furniture that were the heart of her business, Carriage House Designs.

“Do you think it’s wise to be there alone right now? You could stay here and bake those cupcakes you promised J.T.”

“It’s too hot to bake. I’ll do it tomorrow morning while it’s still cool. I’ll be as safe at my workshop as I’d be here by myself. Don’t worry. I’ll text J.T. to let him know where I’m at, okay? You need to do the same thing when you leave the house, and then text me when you’re heading back home from your meeting. Plus drive your Jeep. No walking tonight.”

“Deal, bossy cow.”

April and I pinky swore. There was no going back on our deal now. With a pinky swear, it was completely unbreakable.

“The meeting isn’t for several more hours, though. I have all afternoon to kill. Think I’ll turn on the air-conditioning unit in the sunroom and read for a bit after I start a load of laundry. It’s too hot to work in the garden right now.”

“Sounds perfect. And don’t say kill.” April glowered at me in jest before she turned to head outside.

I grabbed the dishtowel hanging on the stove doorhandle and snapped my daughter on the rear end before she made it outside.

“Oh, lady, you’re going to be mighty sorry you did that.” April let the screen door bang behind her for good measure. “Lock the door,” she called over her shoulder.

About the Author

When Paula Charles isn’t writing under the towering trees of the Pacific Northwest, she can be found in the garden with her hands in the dirt or sitting on her front porch with a good book and a glass of iced tea. She has a love for small towns, ghost stories, and pie. Paula lives on a small farm in Southwestern Washington with her patient husband and a handful of furry and feathered critters. Paula also writes cozy mysteries under the pen name of Janna Rollins.

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Giveaway

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Synopsis

Mr. Darcy’s 21st-century alter ego, Presser, is struggling in real life. Not only is he at odds with the job search, but he is also grappling with marriage. Although he would fight for his son, Noah, who shared custody, they did not design for him. Thanks to an unfortunate attempt to approach her, he also loses the girl who stuck by him the whole time. Finally, the stone of remembrance sinks into the river, which with its white color becomes a symbol of forgiveness.

On Mr. Darcy’s Sofa is a compelling novel about love, loss, and heartbreak. Covering a range of delicate topics from death to infertility, the reader is taken on an emotive journey following a range of well-developed and interesting characters as they navigate their way through life’s ups and downs.

There are elements of humor that work well alongside the hard-hitting narrative and the references and comparisons to Jane Austen and Mr. Darcy throughout are very well done and will, no doubt, captivate readers.

On Mr. Darcy’s Sofa is an intriguing women’s fiction novel set in Hungary, which is informed by the author’s own experiences. With many parallels drawn between beloved Austen characters in the present day, fans of Austen will enjoy reading another novel inspired by her romances.

Amazon

Excerpt

ON THE ROAD

“No friend is as true as a book.”

Hemingway

– Get a grip, honey. Hurry or you’ll miss your flight!

Daddy’s urging made me anxious. Of course, I took it well when he got to the airport. The rain poured down. The city commute on public transport wouldn’t have been a pleasant experience. I couldn’t have any hand to hold the umbrella because of my luggage. I chose not to respond, ignored my ancestor’s warning, and maintained my speed. Whenever I’m in a hurry, I leave something important at home. Something that causes pain when separated for two weeks.

While a fortnight isn’t an eternity, there are specific things I cannot exist without. For instance, I concealed Dorian’s photo in the interior pocket of my denim jacket. My hand is on my heart. The object emits a pleasant warmth that heats my palms. My favorite book is also among the essential things. When I can’t sleep, I read a few chapters of it in the evening. The Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway lay beside my bed this time. Despite its brevity, I was curious why I still didn’t finish reading it. I had a hard time empathizing with Santiago’s suffering, which left me feeling frustrated. I sensed the story was about the unlimited potential of the human soul, but I didn’t feel eager when I opened the book that evening.

Come on, come on, you’ll end up staying at home! – I had to obey my father’s urging, while I glanced in the mirror, he grabbed my suitcase and headed towards the door. Mom waved me out of the kitchen. Her farewell was simple, with no hugs or forehead kisses. Later, she’ll cry thinking about how much she misses me while I’m away. Now it’s simpler this way for both of The chill in our relationship is nothing new to us. I waved her back in and we finally walked out. Dad stood at the bottom of the stairs. I remained at the top; I called for the elevator. We easily caught up. He loaded my things into the trunk and gave me the option to sit in the front.

At twelve, I reached the height by pulling myself out. I first sat beside him in my life and I first watched Pride and Prejudice then on TV. Just two years later read it. When the cops came, my dad told me, “Just pull yourself out, pull yourself out, honey,” and I didn’t understand what was going on. Looking back, I now realize he was concerned for my safety. Now I didn’t have to keep my spine straight at all costs. I grew already much taller than I had been before.

But buckle up! Despite the car beeping, I was so lost in thought that I couldn’t hear the sound, so he warned me not to ignore it. “Okay,” I replied, and he stepped on the gas pedal, and we made our way to the airport.

About the Author

I have had three books of poems and three novels published in Hungarian so far.

On Mr. Darcy’s sofa is my debut novel in English, published by Inovie Books.

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Synopsis

Lest you think I have started writing erotica, I should explain that the title comes from an actual CIA operation of the same name. Operation Midnight Climax was a subset of the better-known MK Ultra project that tried to use psychedelic drugs as a form of mind control. Midnight Climax involved two CIA-run brothels, one in New York City and the other in San Francisco, from the mid-1950s into the 1960s that used prostitutes to lure unsuspecting ‘clients’ in and then dosed them with psychedelic drugs to study their effects. I first learned about this strange tidbit of San Francisco history from a column my friend, Gary Kamiya, wrote several years ago in the San Francisco Chronicle. When I first read it, I thought oh my god, there is a story here! You can find Gary’s original piece here!

Now, here’s what MIDNIGHT CLIMAX is about–

Kats, Molly, and Shig return in an all-new adventure set in 1959, some 15 months following the events of HUNTERS POINT. We find Kats and Molly happily together, though they will be facing some questions about their relationship. Molly has become the entertainment manager at Ann’s 440, and Shig, of course, remains a fixture at City Lights Bookstore.

This story will expand on Kats’ past as we learn what happened to him after the Battle of Vosges, where he was injured. His connection to that time during the war will come full circle as elements from that past find him in his present-day San Francisco.

As with Hunters Point, there are several historic figures that play important parts in the story. As a writer, I find those elements super exciting to craft.

Amazon

Excerpt

Kats moved slowly toward Epps. “I’m not with them,” he gestured to the men scattered on the ground. “I’m a friend of Dr. Turier. Do you remember Dr. Turier?” he said in his most calming voice. “I want to take you to him. We can make everything OK.” Kats wasn’t sure if the words were even registering, but the man didn’t move to attack or retreat. He was about to take another step forward when he heard a siren echo from up the street.

At the sound, Epps’ face twisted, and he surged forward toward Kats. Even though he was ready, Kats was shocked at how fast the man was. He pivoted to the side, like a matador with a charging bull, and as Epps passed by, Kats fired a fist into the man’s lower back, straight into the kidney. The strike should have disabled the man, but Epps barely grunted and whipped around with such speed and ferocity that Kats was immediately on the defensive. Epps shot his right fist toward Kat’s head. Instinctively, he raised his left arm to block the blow, saving himself at the cost of his arm. He rocked back, feeling like he’d been hit with a baseball bat, and his arm fell to the side, numb and lifeless. Kats had fought men who were stronger than he was. He’d also fought men who were faster. But he’d never fought someone stronger and faster. He dropped to one knee trying to gather himself as Epps turned again and charged.

As the wild-eyed man came at him, Kats knew his only chance was to redirect that savage energy, so as Epps raced forward, he welcomed him in and rolled backward, using his good arm to pull the man over him, actually accelerating his charge into the concrete wall behind him. The man met the wall with an audible grunt, and Kats had a moment to gather himself, but only a moment. Within seconds, Epps was again on his feet, facing Kats, seeming to seethe with power. Then from the garage entrance a flashing red light appeared, and a siren echoed up the walls. Epps spun toward the light and, seeing the approaching police car, bolted toward the open wall. Reaching the second-floor wall, he leaped over it in one smooth motion. Kats raced forward in time to see that Epps had landed safely and was already running down the alley toward a chain-link fence. Reaching the ten-foot fence, he appeared to run up the barrier in one long step and then was over and gone in one swift, near superhuman move. As Kats stood there, his chest heaving and his arm throbbing and hanging uselessly at his side, he wondered how he could possibly stop this living science experiment.

About the Author

Peter Kageyama is a third-generation Japanese American. He is a former Senior Fellow with the Alliance for Innovation and the author of four nonfiction books on cities and urban development. Peter was a finalist for the 2023 Roy Peter Clark Literary Award. He lives in downtown St. Petersburg, Florida, with his wife, award-winning architect Lisa Wannemacher, and their dog, Dobby.

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Synopsis

Whidbey Island’s peaceful, bucolic lifestyle is invaded by a deranged psychopath intent on poisoning a significant portion of the population.

The O’Malleys join Deputy Roger Wilkie, world-renowned microbiologist Dr. Andie Saunders, and friends from past episodes in a battle of wits with a dangerously clever adversary.

With unpredictable twists and turns, the challenge of apprehending the evildoer is thwarted by the storm of the century, further challenging the amateur sleuths as they match wits against the formidable villain.

It’s another tongue-in-cheek adventure featuring the retired designers and their faithful German Shepherd.

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Praise for previous books in this series

“Adventures with Kevin and Jenne are always riveting and this one is no different. The story is told through so many characters and their perspectives. You think you know the whole story but the way it is written keeps you reading just one more chapter. It is a very enjoyable read.” – Maynana (Amazon reviewer), on Punch Down

“Little Dirt Road is a fast-paced story that will leave you with loose ends but by the end of the book Ted ties everything together. It was a great read and Ted is a very talented author.” – Alicia’s Forever Booked (Amazon Reviewer)

“This was a great read, and Ted Mulcahey did an excellent job in developing his characters. I really appreciated the banter between the O’Malleys. Made me smile. Whidbey Island is my home, as well, so I thoroughly enjoyed the way Mr. Mulcahey included so many of our island locations, and wove them into his story. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a light, well written book.” –Island Gal (Amazon reviewer), on Juiced

Excerpt

One

He waited until the Duke Water treatment truck backed down the gravel road that served the concrete reservoir. It was five p.m. on April 20th on Whidbey Island, and he still had to wait three hours until it would be dark enough.

Concealment was not an issue here in the thick pine and fir forest, and his excitement trumped any boredom that might have crept in. With clear skies, the temperature fell quickly, even at this time of year; he was glad he’d worn his jacket.

After intermittently watching the tank for almost a month, he’d gotten used to the routine of the monitoring company. They came once a week, on Tuesdays, and always between four and five p.m. Sometimes, she would be there for half an hour and sometimes only ten minutes. Today, it took longer, so he had to wait behind the deadfall from one of the fierce winter storms.

At a shade under five-ten, his slight build and unremarkable features were excellent attributes for a man who preferred to remain overlooked. A closer inspection would reveal very dark eyes that were perhaps just a smidge too close together and a thin-lipped mouth with a perpetual cruel smirk leaking from the right corner. Wispy brownish hair of medium length was concealed by a generic ballcap absent of any logo.

As dusk turned to twilight, he made his way to the access ladder at the rear of the 35,000-gallon reservoir. He thought it comical that the drinking water for a hundred or more homes had little or no security, but hey, tough shit for them, he figured.

With his Mini Maglite between his teeth, he climbed the rusty steel ladder twenty feet to the top, where the vent pipe and the access port were located. He would be here all night if he had to remove the rusted bolts from the cover; fortunately, the vent pipe was all he needed.

Keeping his gloves on, he removed his backpack, still securing the LED light with his teeth, and removed the tools he needed to complete his task: A saw, a PVC fitting and cement, his respirator, and three quarts of a unique blend he’d been working on.

He used the saw to cut off the three-inch “U” at the vent termination and stuffed it in his pack. Next, after taking the flashlight from his mouth and placing it on the concrete surface, he securely fastened his mask and dumped the contents of the quart bottles into the tank via the vent. After placing the empty bottles in his pack with the sawn-off fitting, he swabbed the vent pipe and fitting he’d brought with PVC cement and immediately twisted them together.

Standing back to admire his handiwork, he removed the mask. The risk of airborne transmission was remote, but the virulence of his creation made the additional precaution necessary. The vent stack was now several inches shorter, but no one would ever notice. Making sure nothing was left behind, he climbed back down and walked to East Harbor Road. Traffic was sparse; even so, he took care to avoid any cars. Several passed by during the time it took to get back to the truck, which he’d parked at a seldom-used trailhead, but he avoided them by stepping into the brush long before their headlights reached him.

Getting back inside his ten-year-old Toyota Tacoma pickup with the heater cranked up felt good. Now, all he had to do was wait a few days. He was confident of his calculations, and soon, there would be illness in the small community on the east side of Holmes Harbor. He relaxed and listened to the reggae sounds of Bob Marley on the twenty-minute drive back to his home.

About the Author

Ted Mulcahey has lived throughout the US, the past 35 years in the Pacific Northwest. He’s an Army vet, sales and marketing VP, entrepreneur, business owner, avid reader, one of nine children, former caddie, and lover of dogs and golf. The last twenty-five years were spent in partnership with his wife Patte, as the owners of a highly respected and published hospitality interior design firm in the Seattle Area. They’re now living on Whidbey Island and enjoying its rural bliss.

Ted writes about things he’s seen and places he’s been. He tries to incorporate personality traits of people he’s known into his fictional characters, although none of them exist in reality. Many of the locations are real but the names have been changed.

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