Giveaway – Dirty Old Town by Gabriel Valjan @GValjan @partnersincr1me

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Dirty Old Town by Gabriel Valjan Banner

 

 

Dirty Old Town

by Gabriel Valjan

on Tour March 1 – April 30, 2020

Synopsis:

Dirty Old Town by Gabriel Valjan

“Robert B. Parker would stand and cheer, and George V. Higgins would join the ovation. This is a terrific book–tough, smart, spare, and authentic. Gabriel Valjan is a true talent–impressive and skilled–providing knock-out prose, a fine-tuned sense of place and sleekly wry style.”– Hank Phillippi Ryan, nationally bestselling author of The Murder List

Shane Cleary, a PI in a city where the cops want him dead, is tough, honest and broke. When he’s asked to look into a case of blackmail, the money is too good for him to refuse, even though the client is a snake and his wife is the woman who stomped on Shane’s heart years before. When a fellow vet and Boston cop with a secret asks Shane to find a missing person, the paying gig and the favor for a friend lead Shane to an arsonist, mobsters, a shady sports agent, and Boston’s deadliest hitman, the Barbarian. With both criminals and cops out to get him, the pressure is on for Shane to put all the pieces together before time runs out.

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Fiction, Mystery, Procedural, Historical Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: January 14th 2020
Number of Pages: 162
ISBN: 1087857325 (ISBN13: 9781087857329)
Series: A Shane Cleary Mystery
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

The phone rang. Not that I heard it at first, but Delilah, who was lying next to me, kicked me in the ribs. Good thing she did because a call, no matter what the hour, meant business, and my cat had a better sense of finances than I did. Rent was overdue on the apartment, and we were living out of my office in downtown Boston to avoid my landlord in the South End. The phone trilled.

Again, and again, it rang.

I staggered through the darkness to the desk and picked up the receiver. Out of spite I didn’t say a word. I’d let the caller who’d ruined my sleep start the conversation.

“Mr. Shane Cleary?” a gruff voice asked.

“Maybe.”

The obnoxious noise in my ear indicated the phone had been handed to someone else. The crusty voice was playing operator for the real boss.

“Shane, old pal. It’s BB.”

Dread as ancient as the schoolyard blues spread through me. Those familiar initials also made me think of monogrammed towels and cufflinks. I checked the clock.

“Brayton Braddock. Remember me?”

“It’s two in the morning, Bray. What do you want?”

Calling him Bray was intended as a jab, to remind him his name was one syllable away from the sound of a jackass. BB was what he’d called himself when we were kids, because he thought it was cool. It wasn’t. He thought it made him one of the guys. It didn’t, but that didn’t stop him. Money creates delusions. Old money guarantees them.

“I need your help.”

“At this hour?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“What’s this about, Bray?”

Delilah meowed at my feet and did figure eights around my legs. My gal was telling me I was dealing with a snake, and she preferred I didn’t take the assignment, no matter how much it paid us. But how could I not listen to Brayton Braddock III? I needed the money. Delilah and I were both on a first-name basis with Charlie the Tuna, given the number of cans of Starkist around the office. Anyone who told you poverty was noble is a damn fool.

“I’d rather talk about this in person, Shane.”

I fumbled for pen and paper.

“When and where?”

“Beacon Hill. My driver is on his way.”

“But—”

I heard the click. I could’ve walked from my office to the Hill. I turned on the desk light and answered the worried eyes and mew. “Looks like we both might have some high-end kibble in our future, Dee.”

She understood what I’d said. Her body bumped the side of my leg. She issued plaintive yelps of disapproval. The one opinion I wanted, from the female I trusted most, and she couldn’t speak human.

I scraped my face smooth with a tired razor and threw on a clean dress shirt, blue, and slacks, dark and pressed. I might be poor, but my mother and then the military had taught me dignity and decency at all times. I dressed conservatively, never hip or loud. Another thing the Army taught me was not to stand out. Be the gray man in any group. It wasn’t like Braddock and his milieu understood contemporary fashion, widespread collars, leisure suits, or platform shoes.

I choose not to wear a tie, just to offend his Brahmin sensibilities. Beacon Hill was where the Elites, the Movers and Shakers in Boston lived, as far back to the days of John Winthrop. At this hour, I expected Braddock in nothing less than bespoke Parisian couture. I gave thought as to whether I should carry or not. I had enemies, and a .38 snub-nose under my left armpit was both insurance and deodorant.

Not knowing how long I’d be gone, I fortified Delilah with the canned stuff. She kept time better than any of the Bruins referees and there was always a present outside the penalty box when I ran overtime with her meals. I meted out extra portions of tuna and the last of the dry food for her.

I checked the window. A sleek Continental slid into place across the street. I admired the chauffeur’s skill at mooring the leviathan. He flashed the headlights to announce his arrival. Impressed that he knew that I knew he was there, I said goodbye, locked and deadbolted the door for the walk down to Washington Street and the car.

Outside the air, severe and cold as the city’s forefathers, slapped my cheeks numb. Stupid me had forgotten gloves. My fingers were almost blue. Good thing the car was yards away, idling, the exhaust rising behind it. I cupped my hands and blew hot air into them and crossed the street. I wouldn’t dignify poor planning on my part with a sprint.

Minimal traffic. Not a word from him or me during the ride. Boston goes to sleep at 12:30 a.m. Public transit does its last call at that hour. Checkered hacks scavenge the streets for fares in the small hours before sunrise. The other side of the city comes alive then, before the rest of the town awakes, before whatever time Mr. Coffee hits the filter and grounds. While men and women who slept until an alarm clock sprung them forward into another day, another repeat of their daily routine, the sitcom of their lives, all for the hallelujah of a paycheck, another set of people moved, with their ties yanked down, shirts and skirts unbuttoned, and tails pulled up and out. The night life, the good life was on. The distinguished set in search of young flesh migrated to the Chess Room on the corner of Tremont and Boylston Streets, and a certain crowd shifted down to the Playland on Essex, where drag queens, truck drivers, and curious college boys mixed more than drinks.

The car was warmer than my office and the radio dialed to stultifying mood music. Light from one of the streetlamps revealed a business card on the seat next to me. I reviewed it: Braddock’s card, the usual details on the front, a phone number in ink. A man’s handwriting on the back when I turned it over. I pocketed it.

All I saw in front of me from my angle in the backseat was a five-cornered hat, not unlike a policeman’s cover, and a pair of black gloves on the wheel. On the occasion of a turn, I was given a profile. No matinee idol there and yet his face looked as familiar as the character actor whose name escapes you. I’d say he was mid-thirties, about my height, which is a liar’s hair under six-foot, and the spread of his shoulders hinted at a hundred-eighty pounds, which made me feel self-conscious and underfed because I’m a hundred-sixty in shoes.

He eased the car to a halt, pushed a button, and the bolt on my door shot upright. Job or no job, I never believed any man was another man’s servant. I thanked him and I watched the head nod.

Outside on the pavement, the cold air knifed my lungs. A light turned on. The glow invited me to consider the flight of stairs with no railing. Even in their architecture, Boston’s aristocracy reminded everyone that any form of ascent needed assistance.

A woman took my winter coat, and a butler said hello. I recognized his voice from the phone. He led and I followed. Wide shoulders and height were apparently in vogue because Braddock had chosen the best from the catalog for driver and butler. I knew the etiquette that came with class distinction. I would not be announced, but merely allowed to slip in.

Logs in the fireplace crackled. Orange and red hues flickered against all the walls. Cozy and intimate for him, a room in hell for me. Braddock waited there, in his armchair, Hefner smoking jacket on. I hadn’t seen the man in almost ten years, but I’ll give credit where it’s due. His parents had done their bit after my mother’s death before foster care swallowed me up. Not so much as a birthday or Christmas card from them or their son since then, and now their prince was calling on me.

Not yet thirty, Braddock manifested a decadence that came with wealth. A pronounced belly, round as a teapot, and when he stood up, I confronted an anemic face, thin lips, and a receding hairline. Middle-age, around the corner for him, suggested a bad toupee and a nubile mistress, if he didn’t have one already. He approached me and did a boxer’s bob and weave. I sparred when I was younger. The things people remembered about you always surprised me. Stuck in the past, and yet Braddock had enough presence of mind to know my occupation and drop the proverbial dime to call me.

“Still got that devastating left hook?” he asked.

“I might.”

“I appreciate your coming on short notice.” He indicated a chair, but I declined. “I have a situation,” he said. He pointed to a decanter of brandy. “Like some…Henri IV Heritage, aged in oak for a century.”

He headed for the small bar to pour me some of his precious Heritage. His drink sat on a small table next to his chair. The decanter waited for him on a liquor caddy with a glass counter and a rotary phone. I reacquainted myself with the room and décor.

I had forgotten how high the ceilings were in these brownstones. The only warm thing in the room was the fire. The heating bill here alone would’ve surpassed the mortgage payment my parents used to pay on our place. The marble, white as it was, was sepulchral. Two nude caryatids for the columns in the fireplace had their eyes closed. The Axminster carpet underfoot, likely an heirloom from one of Cromwell’s cohorts in the family tree, displayed a graphic hunting scene.

I took one look at the decanter, saw all the studded diamonds, and knew Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton would have done the set number of paces with a pair of hand-wrought dueling pistols to own it. Bray handed me a snifter of brandy and resumed his place in his chair. I placed my drink on the mantel. “Tell me more about this situation you have.”

“Quite simple, really. Someone in my company is blackmailing me.”

“And which company is that?”

“Immaterial at the moment. Please do take a seat.”

I declined his attempt at schmooze. This wasn’t social. This was business.

“If you know who it is,” I said, “and you want something done about it, I’d recommend the chauffeur without reservation, or is it that you’re not a hundred percent sure?”

I approached Bray and leaned down to talk right into his face. I did it out of spite. One of the lessons I’d learned is that the wealthy are an eccentric and paranoid crowd. Intimacy and germs rank high on their list of phobias.

“I’m confident I’ve got the right man.” Brayton swallowed some of his expensive liquor.

“Then go to the police and set up a sting.”

“I’d like to have you handle the matter for me.”

“I’m not muscle, Brayton. Let’s be clear about that. You mean to say a man of your position doesn’t have any friends on the force to do your dirty work?”

“Like you have any friends there?”

I threw a hand onto each of the armrests and stared into his eyes. Any talk about the case that bounced me off the police force and into the poorhouse soured my disposition. I wanted the worm to squirm.

“Watch it, Bray. Old bones ought to stay buried. I can walk right out that door.”

“That was uncalled for, and I’m sorry,” he said. “This is a clean job.”

Unexpected. The man apologized for the foul. I had thought the word “apology” had been crossed out in his family dictionary. I backed off and let him breathe and savor his brandy.

I needed the job. The money. I didn’t trust Bray as a kid, nor the man the society pages said saved New England with his business deals and largesse.

“Let’s talk about this blackmail then,” I said. “Think one of your employees isn’t happy with their Christmas bonus?”

He bolted upright from his armchair. “I treat my people well.”

Sensitive, I thought and went to say something else, when I heard a sound behind me, and then I smelled her perfume. Jasmine, chased with the sweet burn of bourbon. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them I saw his smug face.

“You remember Cat, don’t you?”

“How could I not?” I said and kissed the back of the hand offered to me. Cat always took matters one step forward. She kissed me on the cheek, close enough that I could feel her against me. She withdrew and her scent stuck to me. Cat was the kind of woman who did all the teaching and you were grateful for the lessons. Here we were, all these years later, the three of us in one room, in the middle of the night.

“Still enjoy those film noir movies?” she asked.

“Every chance I get.”

“I’m glad you came at my husband’s request.”

The word husband hurt. I had read about their marriage in the paper.

“I think you should leave, dear, and let the men talk,” her beloved said.

His choice of words amused me as much as it did her, from the look she gave me. I never would have called her “dear” in public or close quarters. You don’t dismiss her, either.

“Oh please,” she told her husband. “My sensibility isn’t that delicate and it’s not like I haven’t heard business discussed. Shane understands confidentiality and discretion. You also forget a wife can’t be forced to testify against her husband. Is this yours, Shane?” she asked about the snifter on the brandy on the mantel. I nodded. “I’ll keep it warm for you.”

She leaned against the mantel for warmth. She nosed the brandy and closed her eyes. When they opened, her lips parted in a sly smile, knowing her power. Firelight illuminated the length of her legs and my eyes traveled. Braddock noticed and he screwed himself into his chair and gave her a venomous look.

“Why the look, darling?” she said. “You know Shane and I have history.”

Understatement. She raised the glass. Her lips touched the rim and she took the slightest sip. Our eyes met again and I wanted a cigarette, but I’d quit the habit. I relished the sight until Braddock broke the spell. He said, “I’m being blackmailed over a pending business deal.”

“Blackmail implies dirty laundry you don’t want aired,” I said. “What kind of deal?”

“Nothing I thought was that important,” he said.

“Somebody thinks otherwise.”

“This acquisition does have certain aspects that, if exposed, would shift public opinion, even though it’s completely aboveboard.” Braddock sipped and stared at me while that expensive juice went down his throat.

“All legit, huh,” I said. “Again, what kind of acquisition?”

“Real estate.”

“The kind of deal where folks in this town receive an eviction notice?”

He didn’t answer that. As a kid, I’d heard how folks in the West End were tossed out and the Bullfinch Triangle was razed to create Government Center, a modern and brutal Stonehenge, complete with tiered slabs of concrete and glass. Scollay Square disappeared overnight. Gone were the restaurants and the watering holes, the theaters where the Booth brothers performed, and burlesque and vaudeville coexisted. Given short notice, a nominal sum that was more symbolic than anything else, thousands of working-class families had to move or face the police who were as pleasant and diplomatic as the cops at the Chicago Democratic National Convention.

I didn’t say I’d accept the job. I wanted Braddock to simmer and knew how to spike his temperature. I reclaimed my glass from Cat. She enjoyed that. “Pardon me,” I said to her. “Not shy about sharing a glass, I hope.”

“Not at all.”

I let Bray Braddock cook. If he could afford to drink centennial grape juice then he could sustain my contempt. I gulped his cognac to show what a plebe I was, and handed the glass back to Cat with a wink. She walked to the bar and poured herself another splash, while I questioned my future employer. “Has this blackmailer made any demands? Asked for a sum?”

“None,” Braddock answered.

“But he knows details about your acquisition?” I asked.

“He relayed a communication.”

Braddock yelled out to his butler, who appeared faster than recruits I’d known in Basic Training. The man streamed into the room, gave Braddock two envelopes, and exited with an impressive gait. Braddock handed me one of the envelopes.

I opened it. I fished out a thick wad of paperwork. Photostats. Looking them over, I saw names and figures and dates. Accounting.

“Xeroxes,” Braddock said. “They arrived in the mail.”

“Copies? What, carbon copies aren’t good enough for you?”

“We’re beyond the days of the hand-cranked mimeograph machine, Shane. My partners and I have spared no expense to implement the latest technology in our offices.”

I examined pages. “Explain to me in layman’s terms what I’m looking at, the abridged version, or I’ll be drinking more of your brandy.”

The magisterial hand pointed to the decanter. “Help yourself.”

“No thanks.”

“Those copies are from a ledger for the proposed deal. Keep them. Knowledgeable eyes can connect names there to certain companies, to certain men, which in turn lead to friends in high places, and I think you can infer the rest. Nothing illegal, mind you, but you know how things get, if they find their way into the papers. Yellow journalism has never died out.”

I pocketed the copies. “It didn’t die out, on account of your people using it to underwrite the Spanish-American War. If what you have here is fair-and-square business, then your problem is public relations—a black eye the barbershops on Madison Ave can pretty up in the morning. I don’t do PR, Mr. Braddock. What is it you think I can do for you?”

“Ascertain the identity of the blackmailer.”

“Then you aren’t certain of…never mind. And what do I do when I ascertain that identity?”

“Nothing. I’ll do the rest.”

“Coming from you, that worries me, seeing how your people have treated the peasants, historically speaking.”

Brayton didn’t say a word to that.

“And that other envelope in your lap?” I asked.

The balding halo on the top of his head revealed itself when he looked down at the envelope. Those sickly lips parted when he faced me. I knew I would hate the answer. Cat stood behind him. She glanced at me then at the figure of a dog chasing a rabbit on the carpet.

“Envelope contains the name of a lead, an address, and a generous advance. Cash.”

Brayton tossed it my way. The envelope, fat as a fish, hit me. I caught it.

***

Excerpt from Dirty Old Town by Gabriel Valjan. Copyright 2020 by Gabriel Valjan. Reproduced with permission from Gabriel Valjan. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Gabriel Valjan

Gabriel is the author of two series, Roma and Company Files, with Winter Goose Publishing. Dirty Old Town is the first in the Shane Cleary series for Level Best Books. His short stories have appeared online, in journals, and in several anthologies. He has been a finalist for the Fish Prize, shortlisted for the Bridport Prize, and received an Honorable Mention for the Nero Wolfe Black Orchid Novella Contest in 2018. You can find him on Twitter (@GValjan) and Instagram (gabrielvaljan). He lurks the hallways at crime fiction conferences, such as Bouchercon, Malice Domestic, and New England Crime Bake. Gabriel is a lifetime member of Sisters in Crime.

Catch Up With Gabriel Valjan On:
GabrielValjan.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook!

 

 

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Enter To Win!!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Gabriel Valjan. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway begins on March 1, 2020 and runs through May 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.


 

 

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Books From The Backlog – The Cult of Me by Michael Brooks @TheCultofMe #booksfromthebacklog

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Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread.  If you are anything like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in your stacks.

If you would like to join in, swing by Carole’s Random Life in Books.

The Cult of Me (Third Path, #1)

Amazon / Goodreads

GOODREADS BLURB

The first book in ‘The Third Path’ Trilogy.

For too long he dwelt apart, watched those who passed him by. With his unique abilities he entered their minds and inflicted terrible suffering upon them. They didn’t even know who he was. The game has lasted for years, but now the game has become stale. On an impulse he decides to make a final and very public last stand. After surrendering himself to the police he enacts his plan to seize the prison for his final bloody act.

There he discovers that he’s not as unique as he once thought.

Goodreads rating: 3.89 – Rating Details: 75 ratings  ·  42 reviews

The Cult of Me by Michael Brooks sounds pretty off the rails. The cover is creepy and I like that a lot. Sounds like this will be a wild ride and I’m looking forward to it.

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The Whispering Room by Dean Koontz @deankoontz #librarylove

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I have been a long time fan of Dean Koontz, though I haven’t reviewed many of his books. I especially love his old time horror, but The Whispering Room is horror of a human kind and I am lovin’ the Jane Hawk series.

The Whispering Room (Jane Hawk, #2)

Amazon / Audiobook / Goodreads

MY REVIEW

The Whispering Room by Dean Koontz is Book II of the Jane Hawk series. The books need to be read in order, and when I started the series, I had no idea there are five books, looooong books, but I am lovin’ them.

The Whispering Room picks up where The Silent Room leaves off.

I must warn you about the characters. There are so many great ones introduced, but many will not survive, so be careful who you become enamored with. She has ‘friends’ that offer their help, some willingly, some not so willingly, but this is a solo operation and she works best alone.

“They’ll all know about you in The Whispering Room.”

I loved when Jane put her mission aside to render assistance to a family. It shows what kind of person she really is. This is a nice touch, because most of the story is spent with Jane traveling here to there in search for answers.

The high and mighty sociopaths are culling the population. Why? What makes the victims such a threat? How did they even come to think of such horror? And all the other twisted, perverted things they do?

Iron Furnace, Kentucky makes the Stepford Wives look like child’s play.

Utopia…one man’s vision is another man’s horror.

I know, with the digital world we live in, there is no such thing as privacy. Every time we step foot outside our homes, we are being watched. Anyone can be found anywhere. But there are even more threats out there and I wonder if something like this could happen in the future.

I loved that I made a quick appearance, or at least my name did, Sherry. That’s always fun to see.

The action ramps up in The Whispering Room. I was not able to quit reading, rapidly flipping the pages and I mourn for some of the characters that fall victim.

Are ‘they’ going to ‘win’? How can they not? But this is fiction, so I know (?) Jane has to come out victorious.

I checked out The Whispering Room by Dean Koontz from the library and have already downloaded the next book, The Crooked Staircase.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

GOODREADS BLURB

Jane Hawk—fiction’s most relentless, resourceful, stunning new heroine—continues her battle against a murderous conspiracy in the riveting sequel to The Silent Corner.

“No time to delay. Do what you were born to do. Fame will be yours when you do this.”

These are the words that ring in the mind of mild-mannered, beloved schoolteacher Cora Gundersun—just before she takes her own life, and many others’, in a shocking act of carnage. When the disturbing contents of her secret journal are discovered, it seems certain that she must have been insane. But Jane Hawk knows better.

In the wake of her husband’s inexplicable suicide—and the equally mysterious deaths of scores of other exemplary individuals—Jane picks up the trail of a secret cabal of powerful players who think themselves above the law and beyond punishment. But these ruthless people bent on hijacking America’s future for their own monstrous ends never banked on a highly trained FBI agent willing to go rogue—and become the nation’s most wanted fugitive—in order to derail their insidious plans to gain absolute power with a terrifying technological breakthrough.

Driven by love for her lost husband and by fear for the five-year-old son she has sent into hiding, Jane Hawk has become an unstoppable predator. Those she is hunting will have nowhere to run when her shadow falls across them

ABOUT DEAN KOONTZ

Acknowledged as “America’s most popular suspense novelist” (Rolling Stone) and as one of today’s most celebrated and successful writers, Dean Ray Koontz has earned the devotion of millions of readers around the world and the praise of critics everywhere for tales of character, mystery, and adventure that strike to the core of what it means to be human.

Dean R. Koontz has also published under the names Leigh Nichols, Brian Coffey, David Axton, Owen West, Deanna Dwyer and Aaron Wolfe.

Dean, the author of many #1 New York Times bestsellers, lives in Southern California with his wife, Gerda, their golden retriever, Elsa, and the enduring spirit of their goldens, Trixie and Anna.

Website

MY DEAN KOONTZ REVIEWS

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Out of the Darkness by Jane Blythe and Amanda Siegrist @jblytheauthor @amanda_siegrist

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I am a huge fan of Jane Blythe and Amanda Siegrist. I loved the first book in the series, Drowning in You, so to continue on and read about Miles and Jade is a no brainer.

Out of the Darkness

Amazon / Goodreads

MY REVIEW

Jade lives in a friendly neighborhood, so when Miles asked her over for pizza and a movie she jumped on it. She is a cop, working on a tough case and could use a break. She has no idea he has a huge crush on her.

Miles is a computer whiz. He is shy, a nerd, and she has doesn’t realize how much he will help when she needs it most.

HE was peeping through the window, watching his next victim. He likes Charlie a lot and thinks about not hurting her…but that won’t stop him.

As Jade and her partner, Carter, begin investigating Charlie’s disappearance, she felt sure it was the serial killer they were looking for. There had been three women found in the park and she was afraid Charlie would be the fourth.

The title is appropriate, because Jade is terrified of the dark. At times her fear paralyzes her, putting her in danger because of her inability to act.

We have plenty of suspects and as we begin to eliminate them, one by one. The clock is ticking. Will they catch him before he kills again? The suspense is building, because I do know what comes next. At least, I think I do. And it’s not good.

We all know Jade and Miles will hook up, so to say the romance is a slow burn works. Have you ever looked at someone and, all of a sudden, saw them in a completely different way, like they’re not the same person you always knew? That’s Jade.

When I hear a noise at Miles door…

Each book introduces us to a new couple that will face danger and fall in love and are able to stand alone. Out of Darkness contains all I need for a horrible mystery to be solved with enough danger to fill me with suspense and characters that will enthrall me to the very end.

I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Out of the Darkness by Jane Blythe & Amanda Siegrist.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

GOODREADS BLURB

Don’t turn out the lights. Anything can hide in the dark.

Some childhood fears follow you into adulthood. Detective Jade Hawkins is smart, reliable, and successful at her job. At least that’s what she’d like everyone to believe, but, in reality, she leaves a tiny piece of herself with every victim of every case she works. She’s starting to wonder whether one day she will run out of pieces of herself to give, but when a case has her needing the expertise of a friend, she may realize that what she’s been searching for could have been right in front of her all along.

Miles Thomas isn’t shy to admit he’s an expert in computers. Women, on the other hand—that’s an entirely different story. When his friend Jade asks for help in her latest murder case dissecting the victim’s computer, he doesn’t hesitate. He loves computers; they’re his forte, but he also can’t deny Jade anything because he likes her way more than a friend. If only he had the nerve to tell her. He might be shy to admit his feelings, but he refuses to back down when he sees how much Jade truly needs him—no matter what he has to do.

The entire Conquering Fear Novel series: (Each book can be read as a standalone.)
Drowning in You (Book 1): Carter and Rose
Out of the Darkness (Book 2): Miles & Jade

ABOUT JANE BLYTHE

Jane has loved reading and writing since she can remember. She writes dark and disturbing crime/mystery/suspense with some romance thrown in because, well, who doesn’t love romance? She has one completed series, Detective Parker Bell, and one new series, Count to Ten.

When she’s not writing Jane loves to read, bake, go to the beach, ski, horse ride, and watch Disney movies. She has a black belt in Taekwondo, and a 200+ collection of teddy bears. She has the world’s two most sweet and pretty Dalmatians, Ivory and Pearl. Oh, and she also enjoys spending time with family and friends!

Website  /  Twitter  /  Facebook

MY REVIEWS FOR JANE BLYTHE’S BOOKS

ABOUT AMANDA SIEGRIST

Amanda Siegrist

Love! Gimme some love and heaps of romance. I have a sappy heart that just loves two people meeting, going through the cycles of a relationship, and ultimately, falling in love. Give me a good book like that and I’m a happy camper:)

I write contemporary and romantic suspense, but I am partial to suspense. I just love a good mystery.

Besides writing, I love baking, crafts, and baseball…oh, and meeting new people. *smiles*

Website  /  Twitter  /  Facebook

MY AMANDA SIEGRIST REVIEWS

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Books From The Backlog – ‘Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy by Leslie Langtry @LeslieLangtry #booksfromthebacklog

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Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread.  If you are anything like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in your stacks.

If you would like to join in, swing by Carole’s Random Life in Books.

'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy (Bombay Assassins, #1)

Amazon / Goodreads

GOODREADS BLURB

YOU CAN’T PICK YOUR FAMILY…
Death by Chocolate is her favorite dessert. And those knitting needles aren’t just for craft projects. To most people, Gin Bombay is an ordinary single mom. Then again, they don’t know she’s from a family of top secret assassins. Somewhere between leading a Girl Scout troop for her kindergartner–would nooses count for a knot badge?–and keeping their puppy from destroying the furniture, Gin now has to take out a new target.

BUT YOU CAN PICK THEM OFF
Except this target has an incredibly hot Australian bodyguard who knows just how to make her weak in the knees. But with a mole threatening to expose everything, Gin doesn’t have much time to let her hormones do the happy dance. She’s got to find the leak and clear her assignment…or she’ll end up next on the Bombay family hit list.

Goodreads rating: 3.72 Rating Details: 3,425 ratings  ·  396 reviews

‘Scuse Me Will I Kill This Guy by Leslie Lantry has been on my TBR since 9.19.12. I love a few laughs with my mystery and this great cover was too good to pass up. Have you read any of her work?

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Giveaway – I Know When You’re Going To Di by Michael J Bowler @MichaelJBowler @SDSXXTours

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I Know When You’re Going to Die
by Michael J. Bowler
Genre: YA Mystery, Thriller
Leonardo Cantrell is a painfully shy sixteen-year-old who cannot look people in the eye. One night while he’s volunteering at a homeless shelter, an old man forces eye contact and gives Leo the power to see Death.
His best, and only, friend—J.C. Rivera—thinks this new power is cool until Leo accidentally looks into J.C.’s eyes and “sees” his murder, a murder that will occur in less than two weeks. Stunned and shaken, the two boys sift through clues in Leo’s “vision” in a desperate effort to find the killer and stop him before he can strike.
Aided by feisty new-girl-at-school, Laura, the boys uncover evidence suggesting the identity of the murderer. However, their plan to trap the would-be killer goes horribly awry and reveals a truth that could kill them all.
**only 99 cents until March 10th !!**
Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author who grew up in Northern California. He majored in English/Theatre at Santa Clara University, earned a master’s in film production from Loyola Marymount University, a teaching credential in English from LMU, and a master’s in Special Education from Cal State University Dominguez Hills. Michael taught high school in Hawthorne, California for many years, both in general education and students with disabilities. When Michael is not writing you can find him volunteering as a youth mentor with the Big Brothers Big Sisters program, volunteering within the juvenile justice system in Los Angeles, or caring for his newly adopted son. He is a passionate advocate for the fair treatment of children and teens in California, and hopes his books can show young people they are not alone in their struggles.
$25 Amazon gift card
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
 
 
  • You can see my Giveaways HERE.
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Books From The Backlog – Trial and Terror by Adam L Penenberg #AdamLPenenberg #booksfromthebacklog

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Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread.  If you are anything like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in your stacks.

If you would like to join in, swing by Carole’s Random Life in Books.

Trial and Terror

Amazon / Audiobook / Goodreads

GOODREADS BLURB

The good news is that public defender Summer Neuwirth just won her first case, which involved a brutal rape and kidnapping.

The bad news? Her client was guilty.

What’s more, he knows all about Summer’s past.

As Summer pursues her next case, this time to keep an innocent woman off death row, elements of that past–a mysterious case of childhood amnesia, her police officer father’s involvement with a serial killer, a terrifying attack she survived just months earlier–entwine with her present legal work, her missing mother, and her rocky relationship with a private investigator, all of which culminate in a thrilling trial… and terror.

Goodreads rating: 4.01 – Rating Details: 129 ratings  ·  26 reviews

I’ve had this on my TBR since 9.18.12. I do love a good thriller and I am curious about the terror. I hope I am on the edge of my seat with this one, because that’s the way I like it, uh huh, uh huh. 🙂

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Giveaway & Review – Run Girl Run by Willow Rose @MadamWillowRose @SDSXXTours

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Run Girl Run
Harry Hunter Mystery Series Book 2
by Willow Rose
Genre: Mystery, Thriller

MY REVIEW

Emilia and her mother are homeless, living in their car. She is awoken one night and the unthinkable happened. This took place in the first three chapters and it read like a prologue. I love prologues, because they hook me from the beginning and i eagerly read on to find out what lead up to the event and what happens after.

I am back with some familiar characters, so when Josie was rushed to the hospital, I thought, what could happen to them now. It seems bad luck dogs Harry and his daughter, Josie.

Because Run Girl Run by Willow Rose is Book II in the Harry Hunter series, I don’t want to spoil anything for those who start at the beginning, with Book I, All The Good Girls. I will skip over Camille, his comatose wife, and Jean, his wife’s best friend and love interest, and let you find out about them for yourself.

The situation presents some real life questions. Do you believe in miracles? When is enough enough and you move on with your life? How do you get past the guilt of giving up on someone you love?

Because of her ‘illness’, Josie leaves the hospital with more than she had when she entered. It puts her in great danger. And this poses some real life question too.

With Willow Rose, I am always waiting for that other shoe to drop. Her mysteries are complicated. She makes me wonder how all the characters will come together and what the outcome will be. She takes her characters to the extreme and back again and I am just along for the ride.

Uh oh, I’m thinking something bad about someone close to Harry. Could it be….Nope. How about…hmm…Alright, I was wrong again, sort of…I love how Willow Rose leads me down false paths, constantly questioning myself as I struggle to expose the bad guy. And we do have plenty of bad guys.

As Harry investigates, danger comes knocking. Of course, he makes it out alive, seeing there will be one more book, and I heave a sigh of relief, for now. The danger isn’t over yet!

I voluntarily reviewed an ARC of Run Girl Run by Willow Rose.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars
Willow Rose’s beloved detective, Harry Hunter is back in this thrilling second installment of the bestselling series.
When a mother and her child are pulled out of the harbor in their car, the case seems pretty straightforward for Miami PD and Detective Harry Hunter.
Everything points to a murder-suicide.
They were homeless, living in their car, and the mother decided to end it all for them both by driving into the water.
But the case is not what it looks like, Detective Harry Hunter soon realizes.
Harry’s daughter is carrying devastating knowledge about their deaths, and soon she becomes the killer’s next target.
As Harry races to protect her, he is betrayed by someone he thought he knew, leaving him terrified of trusting anyone in a town filled with liars.
RUN GIRL RUN is the second book in the Harry Hunter Mystery Series.
All the Good Girls
Harry Hunter Mystery Series Book 1
This novel is the first book in Willow Rose’s electrifying new Harry Hunter series.
Detective Harry Hunter of Miami PD’s homicide squad throws himself into a case no one asked him to solve.
Four teenagers from one of Miami’s affluent neighborhoods are murdered on a boat. Another is found in a dumpster. All five of them go to the same school and are on a list of witnesses to another crime.
Because he’s in bad standing with his boss, Harry is given the task of protecting a possible future victim, but Harry isn’t always known to follow his boss’s orders.
Soon, he’ll risk everything while racing to stop a killer who has left everyone else in the homicide squad shaking in terror.
ALL THE GOOD GIRLS is the first book in the Harry Hunter Mystery Series and can be read as a standalone.
**Only 99 cents!**
The Queen of Scream aka Willow Rose is a #1 Amazon Best-selling Author and an Amazon ALL-star Author of more than 60 novels.
She writes Mystery, Thriller, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense, Horror, Supernatural thrillers, and Fantasy.
Willow’s books are fast-paced, nail-biting pageturners with twists you won’t see coming. Several of her books have reached the Kindle top 10 of ALL books in the US, UK, and Canada. She has sold more than three million books.
Willow lives on Florida’s Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you will find her surfing and watch the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
$50 Amazon
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

MY REVIEWS FOR WILLOW ROSE

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Giveaway – Paws for Murder by Scarlett English @dollycas

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Paws For Murder (The Barking Mad Mysteries)
by Scarlett English

About Paws for Murder 


Paws For Murder (The Barking Mad Mysteries)
Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Independently Published (January 5, 2020)
Print Length: 163 pages
Digital ASIN: B083JKWXVZ

Welcome to Adlebury where village life can be downright deadly.

Veterinarian Petronella Knight seems to have it all. A job she loves, good friends, and patients who adore her. But when she gets into an argument with dog breeder Gladys Harrington, and she finds the woman dead, she also finds herself accused of murder.

Ella will need all her friends, including the new and very handsome American policeman, and all her sharpest sleuthing skills to figure out who murdered the dog breeder before another dead body pops up.

Paws for Murder contains one enthusiastic amateur detective with a penchant for rescuing animals, a guard duck called George, a large amount of homemade gooseberry wine, and a very confused American who has never met an English village quite like this one.

You’d be Barking Mad to pass this one by.

About Scarlett English

Scarlett English is a crazy cat lady who likes solving mysteries. Or actually, make that a dog lady. Much to her chagrin, the police have never sought to consult her, which is why there seems to be so much unsolved crime. Especially—surprisingly enough—in the small English village where she lives. So, armed with curiosity, a penchant for taking in strays, a love of homemade wine and a good gossip, she puts her detecting talents to good use murdering her imaginary friends and neighbors and solving the cases one story at a time.

Purchase Link – Amazon 

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  • You can see my Giveaways HERE.
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  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
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Books From The Backlog – Velvet Rain by David C Cassidy @DavidCCassidy #booksfromthebacklog

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Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread.  If you are anything like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in your stacks.

If you would like to join in, swing by Carole’s Random Life in Books.

Velvet Rain

Amazon / Goodreads

GOODREADS BLURB

He was born a miracle.
It will take one to save the world.


Kain Richards is the last of his kind—and a man on the run. So when this mysterious drifter falls for a beautiful and sensible Iowa farmwoman, he knows full well the perils of getting too close. And yet, for the first time in his miserable existence, life feels normal … feels real. But as those around him soon realize, reality is not what it seems. For when a tragic accident forces Kain’s hand, his astonishing secret—and godlike power—changes their lives, and the world, forever.

*** AUTHOR’S WARNING ***
VELVET RAIN CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND PROFANITY

Goodreads rating: 4.01   Rating details: 133 ratings  ·  40 reviews

I haven’t read any of his work, but this has been sitting on my shelf since 9.18.12. The last of his kind…what kind is that? I am curious. Velvet Rain is a bit of the supernatural, time travel, romance, science fiction, suspense and mystery, so I feel this should be a good one.

  • You can see my Giveaways HERE.
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  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
  • Look on the right sidebar and let’s talk.
  • Leave your link in the comments and I will drop by to see what’s shakin’.
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  • Thanks for visiting fundinmental!