books, reviews

Book Review: The Island Home – Libby Page

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Two decades. Hundreds of miles. A lifetime of secrets. Could coming home mean starting again?

Lorna’s world is small but safe.

She loves her daughter, and the two of them are all that matter. But after nearly twenty years, she and Ella are suddenly leaving London for the Isle of Kip, the tiny remote Scottish island where Lorna grew up.

Alice’s world is tiny but full.

She loves the community on Kip and how her yoga classes draw women across the tiny island together. Now Lorna’s arrival might help their family finally mend itself – even if forgiveness means returning to the past…

And as the two find friendship, Lorna also starts to find her place in the world.

Can coming home mean starting again?

My thoughts: I was kindly sent this book to review and as I loved the author’s previous books, was thrilled and so here we are.

This was an incredibly moving and lovely story about family, memory and going home. Lorna’s parents have died and she and her daughter Ella are returning to the island she grew up on, somewhere she hasn’t been back to since she left at 18.

Going back means reliving some terrible memories and trying to repair her relationship with her brother Jack, with the friends she left behind and with the island itself.

I loved Lorna and her sister-in-law Alice, they bonded and were able to talk about the past as Alice wasn’t there and is open to Lorna’s story, in a way Jack struggles with. The other islanders, many of whom are incomers, are mostly welcoming and Lorna’s relationship with the place she grew up changes.

Bits of the book were really gripping and I couldn’t put it down. I also had a little cry because it was so sad at times and I was so upset for little Lorna.

Ultimately it was so redemptive and as Lorna and Jack rebuild their bond, and Lorna realises that sometimes you can go home, that places and people change. I loved it so much.

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Blog Tour: No Gods, Only Monsters – Steve McHugh

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Today as well as a review of a new book, I’ve got a great piece on historical research from the author, Steve McHugh. He’s sharing his thoughts on researching and some of the things he investigated in the course of writing his new book – No Gods, Only Monsters.

Diana, the Roman Goddess of the hunt, lives alone on the far edge of the Roman Empire. When an old friend arrives looking for help, Diana finds herself thrust back into her old life, and old problems.

With innocent lives caught in the crossfire, Diana realizes that the only way to ensure the safety of her friends and loved ones is to do what she does best: hunt her enemies down.

Historical Research – Steve McHugh

I love research. Not to put too finer point on it, I can get lost in research as I descend that rabbit hole into a world of stuff I probably never needed to know. My brain is full of pieces of information that was useful for a tiny fraction of a book and is now just taking up space that would probably be better served by something useful. 

I’ve spent most of my life being a fan of ancient Rome, Greece, Egypt and the like, and I’ve read countless books on the subjects, so when it came to actually writing a book on the subject I was all set to go. Except not really. 

Here’s a short list of things I had to actually research as I was writing No Gods, Only Monsters:

Roman Occupation of Macedonia. 

Gorgons.

Horses.

Time is takes to go from A to B by horseback. 

Wild animals kept in Ancient Rome. 

Ships.

The History of the city of Troy.

Wild Boar.

Sign language in Ancient Times.

There are probably a bunch of other ones, and most of those were for only a sentence or two, maybe even only a few words, but they were all information I needed to know to ensure that my book was correct. Yes, the book is about magic, and Pantheons of gods, and the like, but the small details that help set the scene need to be right. Or as right as they can be with a little artistic license. 

Research is a lot of fun, but sometimes it’s also a lot of time and effort for a small detail, and it’s easy to go off on a tangent and read about things you might find interesting, but actually offer little to no use for the book you’re trying to write (or maybe that’s just me).

So, yes, research is necessary, and fun, and interesting, and important part of storytelling and worldbuilding, but it’s also a black hole of productivity from which there’s no escape. 

Thankfully, over the years, I’ve managed to notice the signs, usually after I’ve clicked on my tenth Wikipedia link and am looking at something which had nothing to do with the original idea.

My thoughts:  this was a really intersting fantasy novel featuring gods from ancient pantheons – including Greek, Roman and Norse. I really liked the versions of the gods created here – they felt a lot more human, despite being super powered divinities, or in Diana’s case half were-bear as well.

I liked the premise too, in order to protect some mythological creatures from being exploited, Diana is asked to join Artemis, and a dwarf called Skolt, Medusa and some other brave beings to rescue some minotaurs from a cabal of gods and “heroes” with bad intentions.

This is the first in a new series, Antiquity Chronicles, featuring Diana and other characters from ancient myths and legends, which sounds like it could be very fun.

*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.

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Blog Tour: An English Country Murder – Katie Gayle

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Meet Julia Bird: recently single, reluctantly retired, and… an amateur sleuth?

Julia Bird has left London for a fresh start in a picturesque Cotswolds village, and the rustic charm and cosy fireplaces of her little cottage are everything she’d hoped for. But when she tears down the old garden shed to make way for a chicken coop, she unearths much more than she’d bargained for… the body of a young woman, apparently buried for decades, thrusting Julia into a baffling mystery.

With only one copper on the case in Berrywick, Julia decides to solve the who and whodunnit herself, taking her wayward puppy Jake along for the ride. And so begins a whirlwind tour of the village – from the dotty 90-year-old to the delightful doctor and the village gardener, it seems everyone has something to hide.

Soon, Julia is convinced she has discovered the killer’s identity, until Jake, a true Labrador, finds a new love of the local lake’s waterfowl and instead ends up catching her chief suspect… drowned. Back at square one, with potential culprits galore, Julia – newly nicknamed the Grim Reaper – despairs at ever solving the murders.

But as Julia ruffles feathers village-wide, the clock is ticking. There is someone in the village who has killed twice already. Will they be prepared to make it third time lucky to keep their secret safe?

This totally addictive page-turning cozy mystery is perfect for fans of M.C. Beaton, Faith Martin and Betty Rowlands.

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Katie Gayle is the writing partnership of best-selling South African writers, Kate Sidley and Gail Schimmel. Kate and Gail have, between them, written over ten books of various genres, but with Katie Gayle, they both make their debut in the cozy mystery genre. Both Gail and Kate live in Johannesburg, with husbands, children, dogs and cats.

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My thoughts: this was a fun murder mystery set in a small English village where everyone knows each other but didn’t know there’s a killer in their midst. Julia’s a new arrival and her decision to get chickens and knock down the old shed in her garden uncovers human remains, sparking off a series of terrible events.

As she starts her own investigation, passing on her finds to the police, someone takes matters into their own hands and Julia is determined to find out who.

I liked Julia, she was very entertaining, and her out of control dog, her neighbours and of course the detective constable who actually lets her help rather than tells her to back off.

*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my

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Blog Tour: Mirror Lake – Juneau Black

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The third novel in the Shady Hollow mystery series, in which Vera Vixen takes on her most challenging case yet: solving the murder of a rat who appears to still be alive.

Change is afoot in Shady Hollow, with an unusually tense election shaping up between long-serving Chief of Police Theodore Meade and Vera’s beau, Deputy Orville Braun. But the political tension takes a back seat when resident eccentric Dorothy Springfield becomes convinced her beloved husband, Edward, is dead, and that the rat claiming to be him is actually a fraud.

While most of the town dismisses Dorothy’s rants as nothing more than a delusion, Vera has her doubts. More than a few things don’t add up in the Springfield household, but Vera will have to tread carefully, since, with Orville’s attention on the election, she may be more exposed than ever.

My thoughts: a third outing for journalist and amateur sleuth Vera Vixen and possibly the most sneaky crimes yet.

When Dotty Springfield insists her husband has been replaced by an imposter, most of Shady Hollow’s residents dismiss her as crazy, but Vera smells a story, and follows the clues. Which take her on an interesting journey through the Springfield family’s history, and possibly puts her in danger.

She also has to see off an overbearing crime novelist, avoid getting dragged into local politics as the sheriff’s election race heats up and find time for plenty of delicious food.

This is a clever, funny, wry novel and highly enjoyable. I hope there’s more to come as Vera is an engaging protagonist and the crimes she investigates are entertaining and devious.

*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.

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Book Blitz: Rationality Zero – J.M. Guillen

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If you enjoy your thrillers with a sci-fi edge, you’re going to want to check out Rationality Zero by J.M. Guillen! Now available on Amazon!

Rationality Zero

Rationality Zero (The Archon Conundrum #1)

Publication Date: April 28th, 2022

Genre: Sci-Fi/ Techno Thriller
A living weapon. An attack on the laws of reality. One chance to save the world.

Michael Bishop is a man who never dreams, who never gets ill. He lives his entire life oblivious to the truths hidden from him.

He is a tool in the hand of the most powerful organization on Earth.

Michael’s world transforms when They bring him online- when They activate the mysterious technology buried within his skull.

Then, the lies fall away. He becomes Asset 108. Using intricate technology, he defends humanity from the gibbering, tentacled horrors that haunt our world.

When mysterious renegades fracture the very laws of nature, Asset 108 is put into position. As the world begins to unravel, a cabal of madmen with physics shattering powers hunt 108 and his cadre, driving them into an alternate reality— a realm filled with inhuman horror.

Between otherworldly arachnids, muscled brutes infected with psionic parasites, and depraved cultists, grisly deaths lurk behind Michael’s every choice.

Yet all too soon, things become far, far, worse.

Excerpt

Regular people, folks with normal lives, never dream of how strange their world could quickly become. When things get weird…

That’s where I come in.

Most of the time, things were simple. I lived the perfect life, my days drawn from most men’s fantasies. I didn’t work; I didn’t have to. I got a wire into my account every two weeks. It varied, but the amount surpassed what some people made in six months. Yet I didn’t know where it came from. The sources had vague names like VRS Solutions or Apex Enterprises, throwaway companies that disappeared the next week.

Some might call me spoiled. Yet it got better.

I drove a new sports car. A candy-red thing that got me all kinds of attention. My wardrobe was perfectly tailored to me and quite expansive. My apartment in San Francisco should have run over ten grand a month, yet I never paid a dime of rent. It had a movie room, three separate bedrooms, and a small library, not to mention the personal white room for my Facility gear.

Oh, and… company.

I almost never spent an evening alone. I could have a different enchanting companion every night if I wanted. Or two. Not due to being a sleazy pickup artist, it was simply the way my evenings unfolded. I went to the right clubs, wore the right clothes. Before I knew it, I was dancing with someone like Caprice or her nameless friend. And the night’s enticements had just begun.

As I said, I lived most men’s fantasies.

There were other things though, odd things.

I never got ill. Never.

I never remembered my dreams.

I never worked out, ate whatever I pleased, and remained incredibly fit.

I’ve never done taxes—in any country. A notation on all deposits read: tax paid.

I had no account with any public utility or phone company, yet I owned a phone and used electricity.

I never bought my clothes or books or other diversions. A metallic white board hung on my fridge. Just now, it had “Men in Black” scrawled across it, indicating I wanted the VHS. As soon as I left, I felt certain it’d appear, yet I’d never seen anyone come into my place.

When in torpor, I had no curiosity about any of this. They took care of everything. It was simple. I lived the perfect life.

Until activated.

Once active, I was a tool in the hand of the most powerful organization on Earth. I had access to devices and technology that literally shaped reality as we know it. We accomplished this through the alteration of laws we termed axioms. In actuality, axioms were an analogy for the various laws of physics, some yet to be discovered by mankind.

To Assets such as myself, the axioms of physics were weaponry. They might be bent or altogether broken while on assignment. The awesome technology responsible for that was an absolute requirement for what we did, the bare minimum of what we needed in order to come back alive.

Because dark, inhuman things lurked in the shadows of our world—things most people couldn’t even imagine. Our very reality was under siege by beings older than humanity itself.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

JMGuillenAuthor

JM Guillen was your average, everyday awesome writer just trying to make it in this modern, awful corporate dystopia. He knew he wanted to make wonderful, bizarre things, but how could he afford to make that happen? Every day, he sat about crying and drinking, trying to figure out what he could do.

THEN A RADIOACTIVE METEOR CRASHED INTO HIS BACKYARD! FROM OUTER SPACE!

While examining the fuming interstellar rock, unknowable emanations radiated into the very center of his being. These unearthly energies changed the very depths of him, granting him powers that no man can name, and no god could ever master.

Reeling from the influx of spectral energies, he stumbled back into his home, his eyes open. Now, an entire universe unfolded before him. Now, he saw the way.

HE STARTED HIS OWN EVIL PUBLISHING COMPANY!

Now, JM Guillen begins to meet AWESOME people who supported his INSANE plans. Fiendishly, he scrawls story after story, writing steampunk, dark fantasy and eldritch horror…

Reality will never be the same.

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Blog Tour: Playing With Fire – Mary Burton

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An unsolved mystery ignites a deadly game of chess in this scorching thriller from New York Times bestselling author Mary Burton.

A year after the infamous arsonist Nero was found dead in one of his latest fires, journalist Darcy Sampson receives a tip that the body found at the scene wasn’t Nero at all. Determined to solve the case, Darcy heads to her small hometown in Virginia to track Michael Gannon, an arsonist investigator who refuses to believe that Nero is dead.

But when a new series of fires in the area have a remarkable resemblance to the arsonist’s previous work, Darcy and Gannon are in a race against time to put a stop to Nero once and for all.

But Nero is ready and waiting for them, and he intends on teaching both Gannon and Darcy one last, fatal lesson.

Previously published as The Arsonist

My thoughts: Darcy returns to her hometown on the trail of both arsonist Nero and arson investigator turned mechanic Gannon. She thinks she’s just after a story but once she and Gannon meet, sparks fly, and not the fiery kind.

As buildings burn and the press starts to descend, Darcy struggles to help her alcoholic brother and emotionally detached mother keep the family diner afloat, and help Gannon search for Nero – who might be someone close by.

I liked Darcy, I liked Gannon even though he doesn’t give much away about himself. I think this could grow into a series where the two of them seek out dangerous criminals using their investigative skills.

*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.

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Blog Tour: Killian the Assassin – Wendy L. Anderson

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KilliantheAssassin copy

We are thrilled to share a brand-new series by Wendy L. Anderson starting with Killian the Assassin! Read on for more info and a chance to win a paperback copy of the book!

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Killian the Assassin (Legends of Everclearing #1)

Publication Date: March 30, 2022

Genre: Epic Fantasy

Assassin, thief, arrogant rogue…

Pagan drumming in Killian’s veins would never let his sword fail or his heart stop thirsting for blood. It felt as if the old gods gathered around him, waiting for blood to spill.

Killian the Assassin has been hired to guard the daughter of a wealthy Lord. Blackmailed into going on a perilous journey over treacherous seas, and among violent mountains, he faces danger and demons. Fighting the bloodlust that always follows him, Killian discovers a lonely, innocent girl who did not betray but has been betrayed. She deserves love and protection, but is he the one to give her what she needs?

Tainted by the need for salvation, driven by sword lust, darkness follows them as together they become the first in the Legends of Everclearing.

Killian the Assassin! He’ll double-cross you, bed your wife, and steal your gold, all with a smile.

Follow Killian the Assassin on his journey in this new fantasy series, the Legends of Everclearing!

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Available on Amazon

Extract

The young nobleman’s companions followed their friend through the tavern doors. Shoulder to shoulder, they stood swaying before the challenger. There were five of the virile youths, each well-armed, and each drunk enough not to recognize the danger they were in.

The street was wide, and the front of the tavern was well-lit with lamps and torches. The people circled them and one of the musicians edged forward. His eyes gleamed with bloodlust as he began to pound a drum. The beat repeated bum bum bumpum bum bumpum bumpum bum bum. The priestesses threw magic herbs into the air and one of them began to chant, calling on the gods of war. The sounds echoed out into the night. Killian’s blood was fired by the pagan drumming and the chanting of the priestesses. They swayed their hips, whipped their long hair, and undulated suggestively, all because of the promise of bloodshed. The duel Killian orchestrated to complete the assassination he had been hired for, turned into a sacrificial ceremony.

Killian never understood why some towns on Celtica still followed the old ways. This had happened to him many times in the past all over the continent of Celtica. More than once when he dueled this ritual took place if one of the priestesses or druids were nearby. They always seemed to appear out of nowhere. Killian neither stopped nor welcomed the practice, as it was part of Celtica, and he gave into it. The superstitions of the people demanded it. Something about it was primal and raw, just like the fighting. It stirred his blood, as did the prospect of danger and the scent of blood in the air. The drum repeated bum bum bumpum bum bumpum bumpum bum bum. It felt as if the old gods gathered around them, waiting for blood to spill.

Killian surveyed the group of drunken noblemen with cold blue eyes and tried to hide the grin that was curling his lips. Not that he enjoyed making fools out of drunkards, but he enjoyed taking their money, and there were five of them. Challenging fools, too drunk to know better, kept his pockets filled with gold. Never once in all his years of dueling for money had he ever lost a fight, and it fed the bloodlust that was part of who he was. The excuse of a duel presented the opportunity to commit the assassination he was hired for. The pagan beat continued, urging Killian on.

The patrons of the Ram’s Horn Tavern, who rushed out to witness the duel, formed a wide circle. The barmaids came out with a few of the other women who were curious enough to watch the drama of a duel unfold. Many of them swayed to the beat of the drum and answered the priestesses’ chanting.

The proprietor of the Ram’s Horn Tavern came rushing out, begged the men to shake hands, be friends and return inside to their ale. His appeals fell uselessly on the young noblemen’s drunken ears and Killian’s as well. The pagan drumming in his veins would not let him stop now. He was ready. The ale he drank did not affect his fighting skill. Regardless, no matter how much he drank, he could never get drunk, so this was going to be easy. Though he was sober and could forget the insults he had instigated, he seemed angry enough to let the duel continue for his profit.

“Ah sir, please let us return to more peaceful pursuits. I’m sure the young sirs meant no offense.” The proprietor’s frantic entreaties were ignored. “Boys will be boys!” He gave a nervous laugh. Whether his concern was for Killian, or the five young men, was unclear.

More people joined the crowd coming from down the street to watch the ensuing duel. They created a circle around the duelers, watching for the fight to begin. The flickering torches added heat and excitement to the primitive scene. The beat of the drum echoed, bum bum bumpum bum bumpum bumpum bum bum.

“You are all quite drunk, so I will allow you the opportunity to apologize to me for the insults you have given, pay me a large purse of gold for the damage done and I will let you go on your way unharmed,” Killian shouted at the young men.

“Who do you think you’re speaking to!” One of the other young men staggered forward. “There are five of us and only…” he squinted one eye and peered, “one of you! You can’t take us all!”

“You’re all drunk and stupid is what you are. It would almost be unfair of me to fight you, but you have ruined my expensive boots and insulted my honor. Now, pay me gold or pay with your lives!”

The young noblemen blustered indignantly and drew their swords. Maybe it was the cold night air or the threat of death that sobered them a little, but they straightened and took fighting stances while attempting to look as threatening as possible.

“Last chance boys…pay up and be on your way, or I promise none of you will live to see the sunrise.”

Drawing his sword, Killian’s eyes were glistening with anticipation, and he was ready to fight. Everything came into sharp focus and his hearing distinguished several night sounds over the endless drumming. Crickets sang and a horse whinnied in the distance. Killian’s eyesight sharpened on his foes and his intended victim. The drum beat on. The priestesses chanted. Torches smoked and the night wind stilled.

The large crowd was anxious, and the proprietor was wringing his hands. No doubt worried about the tabs that were not going to get paid if any of the young noblemen were killed, or if people sneaked off without paying. Killian glanced over and saw Lord Doyle Warfield had exited the Ram’s Horn Tavern with his guards and was watching the fighters with intense interest.

There must have been an unseen signal because, all at once, the young noblemen rushed Killian with shouts and waving swords. Even though the blades were waved by drunken fools, they were still sharp and deadly. However, Killian was always prepared and could not be caught off guard. Then it happened. He struck with skilled precision. Blocking the first attack, he knocked away two swords coming toward his throat. His movements were almost a dance, slash, strike, and stab. The metallic clang of sword on sword rang out, accompanying the sound of the drums. Sidestepping, he leaned to his left, blocked a downward strike with his sword, and slashed out with the dagger in his left hand. Another sword block and a kick to the belly, and the first fool went down groaning. As he fell, Killian expertly slashed and severed the boy’s purse dangling from his belt. It fell to the dirt.

For the next assailant, it was a punch to the jaw. Killian had a vicious left hook that connected hard with the young man’s nose, which gave a satisfying crack. With the follow-through, the dagger still in his grip, sliced a shallow gash into the boy’s face. The three that were left crowded forward, fouling each other as they tried to stab and hack at Killian. One had to fall back, so offset by drunkenness, as not to be much help. Killian’s sword sang and he unarmed another attacker before engaging with the next. So, the fight went into a whirl of striking sword blows that could not be met by his speed and skill. Each youth eventually fell. The one he had been hired to kill died quickly.

Killian decided against killing the rest of the fools and had them unarmed, wounded, and unconscious on the ground. It had happened so fast that the crowd barely had time to cheer and bet on the outcome. Sheathing his sword and not even breathing hard, Killian surveyed his fallen foes with disgust, then went to gather his winnings. Rummaging through each youth’s coat and belt, he confiscated their money pouches. Later, he would collect his fee from the man who hired him for the assassination. It had been too easy.

About the Author

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Wendy L. Anderson is a Colorado native and mother of two boys. She has an English Degree from Regis University and writes books, short stories and poetry. Wendy is a devout reader of the classics, fantasy, sci-fi and historical fiction. She has decided it is time to write down the fantasies from her own mind. Writing about everything from fantastical worlds to the stuff of her dreams she takes her stories along interesting paths while portraying characters and worlds she sees in her mind’s eye. Her goal is to deviate from common themes, write in original directions and transport her reader to the worlds of her creation.

Can’t get enough? Read the Kingdom of Jior epic fantasy series:

Of Demon Kind

Redemption of the Fallen

Heirs of Jior

Iron and the Arrow

The Last Ny-Failen

Wendy L. Anderson | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

Click the link below for a chance to win a paperback edition of the book (North America Only)

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My thoughts: don’t let the title mislead you, although Killian has been an assassin he’s now a bodyguard and not a killer for hire, as he escorts Lady Pearl and her rather unpleasant father on a journey to Sorn. He discovers some things about himself and falls in love, managing to stay faithful and cast off his previous bad boy character.

The first in a series of adventures featuring Killian and Pearl, there’s monsters of both the demonic and human kind to vanquish as they seek the homeland of their Ghost Wing fathers.

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Blog Tour: The Carnival of Ash – Tom Beckerlegge

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An extravagant, lyrical fantasy about a city of poets and librarians. A city that never was.

Cadenza is the City of Words, a city run by poets, its skyline dominated by the steepled towers of its libraries, its heart beating to the stamp and thrum of the printing presses in the Printing Quarter.

Carlo Mazzoni, a young wordsmith arrives at the city gates intent on making his name as the bells ring out with the news of the death of the city’s poet-leader. Instead, he finds himself embroiled with the intrigues of a city in turmoil, the looming prospect of war with their rival Venice ever-present. A war that threatens not only to destroy Cadenza but remove it from history altogether…

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Tom Beckerlegge grew up in the northwest of England in a house filled with books. Writing as Tom Becker, he won the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize with his debut novel; The Carnival of Ash is his first adult book. He lives in Enfield with his wife and young son.

My thoughts: this was an interesting collection of tales set in my mysterious city of words Cadenza, rival of Venice, home of poets. Building into an over-arcing story of the destruction of the city by its inhabitants.

From poet turned gravedigger’s apprentice Carlo, to the Duelling Counts, a murder in the monastery, dungeons beneath the ruler’s palace, Cadenza’s secrets and hidden terrors are revealed as the city slowly heads towards its end.

*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.

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Blog Tour: Dark Obsessions – Marie Sutro

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Tour Banner

Welcome to the book tour for gritty crime thriller, Dark Obsessions by Marie Sutro! Read on for more details and a chance to win a great giveaway!

“…a taut and terrifying descent into madness and redemption…brilliant psychological thriller—pop culture entertainment at its absolute best…”

—Jon Land, USA Today Bestselling Author of Strong Cold Dead

Dark Obsessions Cover (HR)

Dark Obsessions

Genre: Crime Thriller

Publication Date: April 26th, 2022

Reeling from the trauma of her last case, SFPD Detective Kate Barnes heads to the Olympic Peninsula hoping to heal the present by resolving the past. When the ravaged corpse of an unidentified teen is discovered, her search for personal peace takes a back seat to the quest for justice.

As Kate digs deeper, she discovers the victim was not the only one who had been taken against her will. Racing against the clock to rescue the remaining girls, she uncovers a complex series of ever-increasing horrors. In the darkest corners of Washington state, Kate Barnes will come face-to-face with an adversary so ruthless and powerful that it will take everything she has to save herself, let alone the girls.

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Excerpt

DEPUTY JENNA WHEATON slammed the door of the patrol car shut. The sound bounced off the walls of the abandoned quarry, doubling and trebling before finally fading in the late afternoon stillness. Spinning on her heel, she cast a final warning glare at the two teenage passengers huddled in the backseat. Exhaling, she turned toward the abandoned warehouse which stood across from the edge of the vast mining pit.

The setting sun reflected off a narrow row of windows running above the structure’s main entrance, lighting the surrounding forest ablaze in a fiery glow. Averting her gaze, she strode toward the set of stairs leading up to the double door entry. Bits of gravel crunched softly under her boots as she walked, amplifying the overall sense of desolation.

Jenna’s shadow kept pace with her as she moved—exaggerating her lean, lanky, features topped off by a shoulder-length mop of blonde hair. Exuding the air of a woman not to be trifled with, she remained convinced she was on a fool’s errand. There was no way the old warehouse would yield the unimaginable find the teenagers had reported when they had burst through the doors of the sheriff’s office over an hour ago.

She had been finishing up a domestic violence report on the other side of town when the call had come in. The DV complaint had been a farce—an adolescent attempt to punish a parent for failing to buy a new cell phone.

Jenna had finally convinced the ill-mannered fifteen-year-old daughter to apologize to her overworked mother when her radio had come to life, recalling her to the station. Once there, two more teens had been dumped in her lap. There was every reason to believe the two wanna-be skater boys sitting in her patrol car were fueled by the same adolescent angst, wayward hormones, and abject stupidity.

Foregoing the rusted railings on either side of the stairs, she jogged up to the porch. The right-side door stood open; a broken chain dangled from the handle—the padlock still intact. Beyond the first few feet of the doorway, darkness pervaded.

She unholstered her flashlight and stepped up to the threshold, glad she had taken the time to lock the boys securely in the car. The last thing she needed was for the miscreants to pop up from behind and scare the shit out of her—just their way of passing a boring Friday afternoon.

Truth be told, she could not really blame them. Eagle’s Nest was high on nature but low on things to do. Other than the bowling alley downtown, there was little going on within the town limits. It was a reality she knew all too well.

Divorced at thirty-eight, with a nine-year-old son in tow, Jenna had ached for a change from the predictability of life in small-town America. She had been about to accept a position with the Seattle PD when a sudden heart attack had prompted Sheriff Selby to retire early. With no local candidates for the position, the town had been forced to look elsewhere.

After three months, they had found a unanimous favorite. Far more handsome than any of the local singles, Sheriff Luchasetti, who was only a few years older than Jenna, had immediately infected her with some form of Disney-esque brain fever. Abandoning her senses, she had turned down the Seattle offer.

In hindsight, it had been a ridiculous move. After a few months of intense flirting on her part, Tony had made his disinterest clear by turning down Jenna’s invite for a nightcap at her place. He had claimed he could not risk his new position by fraternizing with a deputy. But Jenna knew better. Any man who made it to forty-four without signing a marriage license or siring a child had no sincere interest in either one.

Swallowing past the year-old frustration, she stepped over the threshold into the cavernous space. Her right hand settled on the butt of her Glock as she entered, evidence of good training and experience rather than anticipation of actual trouble.

The beam from her flashlight was not strong enough to reach the back of the building, but she moved ahead anyway. Had she even partially believed the boys’ outlandish story about finding a dead body in the concrete pit up ahead, she may have proceeded with more caution.

She had only made it about five feet before a vile stench—reminiscent of a cross between motor oil and animal fat—hit her like a semi. Steeling herself against the aroma, Jenna focused on the goal ahead. If the boys had seen something, it was certainly nothing more than a sick animal that had sought refuge here in its final moments.

As she continued, the rubber soles of her shoes squeaked softly against the dusty concrete. Arriving at the fifteen-foot-square opening in the floor, Jenna pointed her flashlight down. Her eyes tracked the circle of visibility as it traveled down the opposite wall of the shaft.

A moment later, the light revealed a pale arm. As it swept over a mutilated breast, then worked its way across the rest of the slender human form, the deputy staggered backward. Her right hand clawed at her shoulder, grasping for the radio affixed to her uniform. When her fingers finally closed around the device, it took an entire minute before she was confident she could speak without shrieking.

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About the Author

Marie Sutro Headshot (HR)

Marie Sutro is an award-winning and bestselling crime fiction author. She is also a member of Sisters in Crime whose writing has been inspired by the combined service of her great-grandfather, grandfather, and father in the San Francisco Police Department.

Her bestselling debut novel, Dark Associations, was awarded the Benjamin Franklin Award for the Best New Voice in Fiction. A proponent for literacy, she volunteers with California Library Literacy Services, helping adults learn to read and write.

She resides in Northern California and is currently at work on the next Kate Barnes story. To learn more about Marie, visit her website at mariesutro.com.

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Click the link below for a chance to win a copy of Kate Barne’s first case, Dark Associations!

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My thoughts: this was a clever and gripping dark crime novel, with an interesting protagonist in Kate Barnes’ detective. Having left San Francisco after a shocking case, hoping to reconnect with her estranged mother and get some closure on her painful childhood, she heads to the small town of Eagle’s Nest, only to be drawn into the horrific murder of a young woman, that leads to people traffickers and some wealthy men who carry out depraved acts.

The writing gripped me and I really wanted Kate and Sheriff Tony to solve the terrible crimes taking place in the Pacific Northwest.

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Blog Tour: Sally’s Magic River – H. Frank Gaetner

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Welcome to the book tour for Sally’s Magic River by H. Frank Gaetner. Read on for more info!

Sally's Magic River

Sally’s Magic River

Publication Date: July 26th, 2021

Genre: YA Fantasy

Sally and the Magic River is a magical story of a young girl’s triumph over extreme adversity. Its various scenes are meant to evoke powerful, mental images with parallels to movies such as “The Wizard of Oz”, “Peter Pan”, “The River Wild” and “Gravity”.

It’s fascinating how one’s tragedy can turn into a defining moment. A single misfortune can fuel your desire to be better and ignites your vision. This is what Sally experienced. THIS IS WHAT WE NEED TO EXPERIENCE.

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Excerpt

The Hyundai Elantra looked like it had been in a demolition derby. Its jacked-up, deranged occupants had just robbed a Canejo Valley liquor store. The store’s burglar alarm brought cops to the scene in time to see the getaway vehicle disappear into a nearby residential area. A cacophony of bullhorns, racing engines and squealing tires pursued the menace through a crosshatched neighborhood of caromed parked cars, flattened hedges and trenched yards. The police were about to trap the intruder when it bolted onto Lynn Road and headed west toward the Ventura-Freeway and an off-ramp crowded with biotechnologists on their workday morning commute from Agoura Hills and Westlake Village. And it’s here, at this exit, where fate decided to have its way. Determined to escape, the disaster on wheels took the only way out, the wrong way.

Meanwhile, a mother and her ten-year-old daughter were traveling north from their home in Beverly Hills. The girl sat straining forward in the front seat of her family’s classic Fleetwood-Brougham Cadillac anxiously anticipating a visit with her grandfather, a citrus rancher

in the Santa Clara River Valley. Dad was away on business, so the two “women of the house” were on their own. The ten-year old was very fond of her grandfather, and enjoyed helping him in his workshop where he now spent most of his day making beautiful mahogany and ash C1 racing canoes. Such special moments with her grandfather and the solitude of the groves were the main things, but there was also one other thing, the enchanting and unpredictable Santa Clara River with its flood-plain sanctuary of rabbits, squirrels, coyotes, crows, and geese.

The mother knew her precocious daughter was more than ready to arrive at their intended destination. The child’s upturned nose, imp-like smile, and bright green eyes made her look like a pixie imitating a race horse waiting for its starting gate to open. Earlier that morning she had wasted no time. She inhaled her breakfast, set her auburn hair in pigtails, and threw on a red checkered shirt, overalls, and hiking boots to certify that she was ready to “work” on the ranch as soon as they arrived. So, as fate would have it, the two travelers were buckled into the family’s mega Cadillac by 7:30 am, and by 8:10 were entering that portion of the Ventura Freeway that passes through the city of Thousand Oaks.

Already scarred and now re-scarred by numerous glancing blows from its previous neighborhood chase and its reckless game of chicken up the off-ramp, the erratically driven wreck shot onto the freeway directly into the path of oncoming commuter traffic. Gaining speed to over ninety miles per hour, the motorists’ worst nightmare crossed four lanes of traffic and, since miracles do happen, managed to reach the emergency shoulder adjoining the center divider. Seconds later, threading its way between oncoming traffic and the center divider, it successfully arrived at the freeway’s next exit, the Moorpark Road underpass. But with its luck running out, “success” was to be short lived. As the Elantra crossed the underpass, a Toyota Celica, which had been attempting to avoid a rear end collision with the car ahead of it, spun out of control, only to be rear-ended itself by an eighteen- wheel Freightliner. The Toyota, partially airborne from the impact, continued its amazing thrill ride up and over the freeway guard-rail to the street below, where, in a Gallagher fantasy of gigantic proportions, it landed upright on a flatbed truck of watermelons where it began to head east, its new, unscheduled, direction. From Lynn Road to Moorpark Road, motorists, many in cars totaled from multiple collisions, sat unharmed. One would think every one of these fortunate, uninjured travelers would be giving thanks, simply grateful to be alive, but a few were way too busy fumbling with their dash-board mounted GoPro™ cameras to be so distracted.

At the same time the impacted big-rig, twisting violently, suddenly jackknifed across two lanes of traffic in a cloud of burning rubber and smoking brakes. With effective reaction times reduced to fractional seconds, a new group of hapless drivers began to form a chain of smashed fenders, damaged egos, and whiplash-injury lawsuits as Mercedes after BMW, after Jaguar found its mark on the luxury car of the wealthy biotechnology employee ahead of it.

The Elantra, having navigated four lanes of oncoming and a mile of narrow, center-divider emergency-lane, suddenly came into the Cadillac’s view. And then, just as suddenly, it reacted to the out-of-control semi by hard- glancing the concrete retaining wall to meet head-on the Cadillac and its ranch-bound human cargo. The heavyweight car propelled itself forward, merging the Elantra’s engine with front and rear seats and redirecting the motion of the compacted mass in the opposite, but now right, direction down the freeway. The collision launched both mother and daughter forward as if the two had been shot from guns. But, before their seat belts could carry the full burden of forward motion, the vintage Cadillac’s newly retrofitted airbags exploded from their housings directly into the path of the would-be human projectiles. Traffic in both directions came to a complete stop as flying pieces of metal and glass made their way back to earth.

A surreal silence followed the mayhem. For some, the silence was interrupted by an appropriate heart-pounding, adrenaline-inflicted, involuntary, flight-response. For one, the silence momentarily intensified into a darkness more complete than any found in the deepest cavern.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

Frank Gaertner

I am a retired molecular genetics scientist who has authored and co-authored well over 50 patents and academic publications. Sally’s Magic River is my only work of fiction. I wrote the story over twenty years ago and first published it as Sally and the Magic River in 2014. I am republishing the story in this new format with its new cover and title, Sally’s Magic River. Why? Because I think Sally’s story may turn out to be the most important thing I’ve written.

H. Frank Gaertner

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