HotHouse Flower by Taylor Dean Giveaway

BOOK THREE IN THE SOUND OF SILENCE SERIES IS NOW AVAILABLE!!!

Did you miss Book One, STONE SILENCE?

No worries. It’s FREE for five days, Jan. 1-5!!!

Grab it on AMAZON

HOTHOUSE FLOWER

by

TAYLOR DEAN

Hothouse Flower by Taylor Dean

I loved Jace Faraday with all my heart.

I loved everything about him, from his huge smile to his fabulous laugh. Another man never caught my eye. It was always Jace and Shay, together forever.

Until it wasn’t.

He devastated me, he ruined me. I’ve never gotten over it.

But, I’m a survivor. I’m not a precious flower that can only thrive if kept safe from the perils of the outside world.

Except now Jace has returned home. He’s just across the street from me, so close I swear I can actually feel his presence.

I can’t avoid him forever. At some point I have to face him. And when I do, I know sparks will fly.

To redeem himself for his past actions, I need major remorse. I need a profuse apology and maybe even a little begging for forgiveness. I won’t settle for anything less.

However, when the truth behind our break-up is revealed, I’m stunned. It leaves me reeling—and yearning for the six years that have been lost to us.

The thing is, once the truth is known, there’s nothing to keep us apart.

Absolutely nothing.

Dear Reader: This book deals with a sensitive issue.

The Sound of Silence Series is a three book series.

Book One: Stone Silence, Spencer’s Story
Book Two: Jailbird, Mia’s Story
Book Three: Hothouse Flower, Shay’s Story

Each book has a happy ending and there are no cliffhangers. They are not standalones and should be read in order.

Read an excerpt from HOTHOUSE FLOWER

I’LL BE RIGHT down to help with dinner, Mom,” I holler. It will just be a few minutes because I’m busy staring out the window at the man I’ve loved nearly all my life.

He’s home. He’s actually home—just across the street from me, only yards away. I swear I can physically feel his presence and it’s killing me.

Jace Faraday. The love of my youth.

He just arrived at his mother’s house across the street. It’s early evening and I’m watching from my upstairs bedroom window just like I used to do as a teenager. All those old feelings I had for him are rushing over me just as strong as ever. Except now I’m a twenty-six year old woman and, sadly, I feel as though I’m too old to feel giddy over a man.

He is the one man in my life that I have ever truly loved. I loved everything about him from his huge smile to his soft voice to his fabulous laugh. I loved his brawny physique, yet the fact that he had such a gentle touch.

I loved his sense of humor the most of all. When we first started to say I love you to each other, they were serious moments and I knew he meant it as much as I did. As time went by, I would whisper I love you to him and he’d respond in a silly voice, “And I’ve grown fond of you.” It reduced me to a writhing mass of giggles every time.

I was young when I first met him. His family moved in across the street when I was in kindergarten. By the time I was in fifth grade, I was sure he was the man I would marry. I was just a little girl with stars in her eyes, someone who was in love with love. By then Jace was in the eighth grade and seemed larger than life to me.

That feeling of hero worship I felt as a little girl has never left me.

 

Stone Silence by Taylor Dean

Great big beautiful love.

Does it really exist?

Everyone tells me it does. They say, “Spencer Elliott, don’t worry, you’ll find it one day. You just have to find the right man and when you do, it will surprise the heck out of you.”

I’m still waiting for that heck of a surprise to hit. It has proven to be elusive thus far. I’m pretty sure the entire world is lying about love and the joke is on me.

I know I want a man in my heart and in my life. Unfortunately, most men immediately push my OFF button and I lose interest quickly.

Feeling pressure to prove I’m trying to find my soulmate, I finally give in and agree to a date. Huge mistake. Afterward I find myself abandoned in the middle of nowhere, in desperate need of help.

That’s when I meet Stony by chance.

He’s a silent and unsmiling man who intrigues me with his ability to keep going after life has knocked him down. Suddenly the abstract notion of love becomes tangible and within my reach. Once I experience it, I wonder how I ever lived without it.

That’s when I stay with Stony by choice.

But when Stony’s hidden past and present-day reality collide, his silence is broken. And the truth about his life nearly brings me to my knees. I can’t compete with ghosts from the past.

I refuse to fight for a man’s love. He either loves me or he doesn’t. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.

My only hope is . . . he does.

Catch Book Two, JAILBIRD.

Jailbird by Taylor Dean

My hometown decided to rename me Jailbird.

Every day I silently scream out, “My name is Mia Faraday!” My time in jail does not define me. I am so much more than one heated mistake.

And yet, my slip-up weighs on me. There’s so much more to the story than anyone realizes. I must face Stony, my ex, and confess everything.

I don’t want to. I’d rather have five teeth pulled. While I’m awake. Without anesthesia.

But this is something I have to do, something I need to do. Not just for Stony. I need to do it for me. Especially for me. I can’t move forward with my life until I gain closure from the past.

When I meet Grayson Elliott, I am easily pulled into his orbit and it’s exactly where I’d love to stay. He makes me laugh and not take life so seriously. He makes me want to live again.

But I don’t love me right now, and that healing needs to come first. I’m not relationship-ready or marriage material. My mind is focused on redemption. I want it. I need it.

Besides, when Grayson hears about my colorful past, I’m sure he’ll be gone before I have time to utter the word goodbye.

After all, who could ever love a jailbird?

Praise for JAILBIRD:

Mia’s story about forgiveness and redemption is packed with emotion and will leave you wanting more! -Jana, Amazon Review

An adventure from start to finish, a wonderful sequel to Stone Silence. -atvtnv, Amazon Review

Once I started reading, I just couldn’t stop! It has been a LONG time since a book has kept me up WAY past my bedtime! -KJ’s Book Nook

Author Taylor Dean

Taylor Dean lives in Texas and is the mother of four grown children. Upon finding herself with an empty nest, she began to write the stories that were always wandering around in her head, quickly finding she had a passion for writing, specifically romance. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary, or suspense—you’ll find all sub-genres of clean romance in her line-up.

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Blast Giveaway Details
$50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash. Ends 1/21/18

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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Giveaway – A Shine That Defies by the Dark by Jodi Gallegos @[email protected]

A Shine That Defies The Dark
Jodi Gallegos
Published by: Changing Tides Publishing
Publication date: December 5th 2017
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance

Gripping, romantic, and evocative of its time— A Shine that Defies the Dark is a spellbinding story of one woman who will stop at nothing to survive during a tumultuous time in American history.

After a six-year exile, Ophelia Breaux and her mother are overjoyed to return to the Louisiana bayou. But it seems the ghosts of the epic feud that drove them away still haunt Plaquemines Parish, and with the Great Depression sweeping the nation, the two soon find they can’t make ends meet.

Seeing no other option, Ophelia’s mother takes the drastic step of sharing her bed with the town judge in exchange for a reduced rent. The judge has had a life-long obsession with Momma, and Ophelia is desperate to end this arrangement and get her away from him.

When Remy Granger shows up, Ophelia knows it could mean more trouble—and that’s the last thing they need. Handsome and dangerous, he’s the first boy she ever kissed, and a member of the most notorious family in southern Louisiana—but he’s also got an opportunity for fast money in rumrunning. Ophelia goes all in, and it turns out she may have a knack for the business. But she’s going to have to run even faster if she wants to save Momma… dodging the cops, rival gangs, and her traitorous heart at every turn.

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EXCERPT:

The air was dense with the heat and moisture of late spring in the bayou. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked nearby, and the gentle slush of water slapped against the shore.

The trail was uneven and difficult to traverse in the dark. Dixie and I grasped at each other to keep from falling. The T-strap shoes I’d worn didn’t have a terribly high heel, but my ankles threatened to roll with every step nonetheless. I was sure Dixie’s higher heels would be the end of her if we didn’t find even ground soon.

I lifted the hem of my trumpet skirt, the material thin and ragged. It wouldn’t stand many more repairs. I didn’t want to risk it being snagged by the loose twigs that swiped at us as we followed the dark trail.

The faint sounds of zydeco music drifted on the air and made its way through the trees. A happy chirping melody from an accordion and fiddle filled the night. The tension I’d been carrying floated away with the buoyant melody. My heart began to beat in time to the scratching tempo of the frottoir, and I might have begun dancing right there had my ankles not threatened to roll yet again.

Just as I was about to declare that no moonshine was worth a forced march through gator-infested swamps, the trees opened up and I saw a barn at the edge of a pond. Yellow light seeped through the open doors and between the weathered slats. There were a few cars parked along the structure, as well as in the clearing behind it, and two horses were tied to the low-hanging branches of a tree near the door.

The Granger boys hadn’t so much set up a speakeasy as they’d taken possession of an abandoned barn and opened the doors for anyone willing to take the risk along with them.

“Look, Ophelia, it’s perfect!” Dixie laughed. She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the line of people streaming toward the doors.

I stopped short and pointed to the roof of the barn. “That boy has a gun.”

Simon Carre ambled past me. “There’s two in the trees and one over there, too.” He pointed toward the field, but didn’t stop walking.

Dixie pulled on my hand. “Claude Moret’s gang beat Tully Bishop near to death for settin’ up his own business,” she said. “The Grangers ain’t about to take that chance. Besides, the danger’s what makes it fun.”

Dixie’s enthusiasm was infectious. My reluctance was serving no purpose. As cautious as I’d intended to be during our illegal escapade, apprehension melted away as soon as I passed through the open doors. For the first time in five months, I felt like I was just a girl again. Tonight there was no sadness. My only responsibility was to enjoy life back in the most vibrant place on earth.

 

Author Bio:

Jodi is a YA writer, black belt, registered nurse and case manager for a busy home health agency. She lives with her husband, three sons and an evolving herd of undisciplined animals in Colorado. She has a well-earned fear of bears, but tolerates the Teddy and Gummy variety. She has been obsessed with books, both reading and writing them, for most of her life and prefers the written word to having actual conversations. The most current projected completion date of her To Be Read book collection is May 17, 2176.

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Giveaway – One Night by Allie Everhart @AuthorAllie @XpressoReads

One Night
Allie Everhart
Publication date: December 4th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

I’m a true romantic. I believe in fairy tales, soulmates, and happily ever afters. The last way I’d ever try to find my true love is with a one night stand. But that night of the party, I wasn’t looking for my soulmate. I just wanted to do something wild and crazy. So I did.

When a hot guy with dark hair, brooding eyes, and a chiseled face made eye contact with me across a crowded room, I held his stare and waited for him to come over. Before even asking my name, he kissed me. I kissed him back. And then, without giving it a second thought, I followed him to a room and had my first ever one-night stand.

The next morning, I took off. It was only supposed to be one night. Nothing more. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even months later, when I was dating someone else, I was still thinking about that mysterious stranger and the night we shared. Then I found out he’s not a stranger. He’s the friend of my roommate’s boyfriend and has been looking for me all summer.

I can’t let him find me. We were never supposed to see each other again. I’ll admit it was a magical night. One I’ll never forget. There were sparks, fireworks, and this unexplained feeling that we belong together. But soulmates aren’t found with a one-night stand. They’re found with handwritten love notes. Flowers. A first kiss under the moonlight.

A one night stand is the worst love story ever. But what if it’s mine?

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EXCERPT:

DYLAN

I lean down and kiss her, and not a short goodbye kiss, but a real kiss. Slow and drawn out and expressing what I feel for her, which is more than I should feel for a girl after knowing her for such a short time and yet I still do. My feelings for Amber are more than I’ve felt for girls I’ve dated for months. But why? Why do I feel this way? Was it the sex? Did that one night mess with my head, making me think I love this girl after knowing her for just a few hours? That can’t be it. I’ve had sex plenty of times and never felt this way.

Someone’s car alarm goes off and I slowly back away.

“You weren’t supposed to do that,” Amber says in a soft, breathy voice.

“You said I could if we’re in public.”

“But I didn’t mean—”

“No changing the rules now. If we’re in public, I can kiss you. That’s what you said.”

“Fine, but it doesn’t matter because we’re not going out like this again. We’re going back to the letters. You said you’d try it so that’s we’re going to do. No texts. No emails. Just letters. You broke the rules today by coming here but we’re going to get this back on track.”

I just smile at her, then wrap my hand around hers and lead her inside the apartment building. We go up the elevator and when we’re at her door, I say, “I didn’t break the rules.”

“What are you talking about?”

“By showing up here, I didn’t break the rules of our arrangement.”

“Yes you did. You were supposed to just write letters.”

“And do romantic gestures. That’s what you said. And today was a romantic gesture. I showed up at your apartment unannounced. I surprised you. Surprises are romantic gestures.”

“Oh.” She looks perplexed. “Well, that’s not really what I meant.”

“You can’t define romantic gestures. They’re different for everyone. And to me, surprising you like this was a romantic gesture, as was buying you your favorite muffin.”

“Did you look up the definition of gesture? Because you seem to know a lot about them.”

“Not really. I’m kind of learning as I go. This is all new to me. I’ve never had all these dating rules before.”

“I know it seems strange but I warned you I was a little crazy when it comes to romance. And given the way we met, I just feel like we need to step back and start again. I don’t want us to just be about sex. I want more.”

“So do I.” I kiss her cheek. “I have to go. I’ll call you—I mean, I look forward to your next letter.”

She smiles. “I’ll put extra time into it.”

“I hope so,” I say, walking to the elevator, “because if it’s like the last one, I’ll fall asleep before I even finish reading it.”

The stunned look on her face is the last thing I see before stepping into the elevator. It’s fun giving her shit about that letter. She knows it was crap and I could tell she was embarrassed by it. I can’t wait to see what she writes me next to make up for it.

 

Author Bio:

Allie Everhart writes romance and romantic suspense and is the author of the popular Jade Series, Kensington Series, Wheeler Brothers, and several standalone titles. She’s also a freelance health writer and has worked on several New York Times bestselling books. Allie’s always been a romantic, as evidenced by her early years as a wedding singer, her obsession with dating shows, and the fact that she still watches reruns of The Love Boat. When she’s not writing, she’s outside running, which is when she gets her best book ideas.

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Giveaway – The Body in the Casket by Katherine Hall Page #KatherineHallPage @partnersincr1me

The Body in the Casket

by Katherine Hall Page

on Tour December 4, 2017 – January 12, 2018

Synopsis

The Body in the Casket by Katherine Hall PageThe inimitable Faith Fairchild returns in a chilling New England whodunit, inspired by the best Agatha Christie mysteries and with hints of the timeless board game Clue.

For most of her adult life, resourceful caterer Faith Fairchild has called the sleepy Massachusetts village of Aleford home. While the native New Yorker has come to know the region well, she isn’t familiar with Havencrest, a privileged enclave, until the owner of Rowan House, a secluded sprawling Arts and Crafts mansion, calls her about catering a weekend house party.

Producer/director of a string of hit musicals, Max Dane—a Broadway legend—is throwing a lavish party to celebrate his seventieth birthday. At the house as they discuss the event, Faith’s client makes a startling confession. “I didn’t hire you for your cooking skills, fine as they may be, but for your sleuthing ability. You see, one of the guests wants to kill me.”

Faith’s only clue is an ominous birthday gift the man received the week before—an empty casket sent anonymously containing a twenty-year-old Playbill from Max’s last, and only failed, production—Heaven or Hell. Consequently, Max has drawn his guest list for the party from the cast and crew. As the guests begin to arrive one by one, and an ice storm brews overhead, Faith must keep one eye on the menu and the other on her host to prevent his birthday bash from becoming his final curtain call.

Full of delectable recipes, brooding atmosphere, and Faith’s signature biting wit, The Body in the Casket is a delightful thriller that echoes the beloved mysteries of Agatha Christie and classic films such as Murder by Death and Deathtrap.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: William Morrow
Publication Date: December 5th 2017
Number of Pages: 238
ISBN: 0062439561 (ISBN13: 9780062439567)
Series: Faith Fairchild, 24
Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Barnes & Noble 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

“Have Faith in Your Kitchen,” Faith Fairchild said, answering the phone at her catering firm. She’d been busy piping choux pastry for éclairs onto a baking sheet.

“Mrs. Fairchild?”

“Yes? This is Faith Fairchild. How may I help you?”

“Please hold for Max Dane.” The voice had a plummy, slightly British tone, reminiscent of Jeeves, or Downton Abbey’s Carson. The only Max Dane Faith had heard of had been a famous Broadway musical producer, but she was pretty sure he’d died years ago. This must be another Max Dane.

She was put through quickly and a new voice said, “Hi. I know this is short notice, but I am very much hoping you are available to handle a house party I’m throwing for about a dozen guests at the end of the month. A Friday to Sunday. Not just dinner, but all the meals.”

Faith had never catered anything like this. A Friday to Sunday sounded like something out of a British pre-World War II country house novel—kippers for breakfast, Fortnum & Mason type hampers for the shoot, tea and scones, drinks and nibbles, then saddle of lamb or some other large haunch of meat for dinner with vintage clarets followed by port and Stilton—for the men only. She was intrigued.

“The first thing I need to know is where you live, Mr. Dane. Also, is this a firm date? We’ve had a mild winter so far, but January may still deliver a wallop like last year.”

A Manhattan native, Faith’s marriage more than 20 years ago to the Reverend Thomas Fairchild meant a radical change of address— from the Big Apple to the orchards of Aleford, a small suburb west of Boston. Faith had never become used to boiled dinners, First Parish’s rock hard pews and most of all, New England weather. By the end of the previous February there had been 75 inches of snow on the ground and you couldn’t see through the historic parsonage’s ground floor windows or open the front door. Teenage son Ben struggled valiantly to keep the back door clear, daily hewing a path to the garage. The resulting tunnel resembled a clip from Nanook of the North.

“I’m afraid the date is firm. The thirtieth is my birthday. A milestone one, my seventieth.” Unlike his butler or whoever had called Faith to the phone, Max Dane’s voice indicated he’d started life in one of the five boroughs. Faith was guessing the Bronx. He sounded a bit sheepish when he said “ my birthday,” as if throwing a party for himself was out of character. “And I live in Havencrest. It’s not far from Aleford, but I’d want you to be available at the house the whole time. Live in.”

Leaving her family for three days was not something Faith did often, especially since Sunday was a workday for Tom and all too occasionally Saturday was as he “polished” his sermon. (His term, which she had noticed over the years, could mean writing the whole thing.)

Ben and Amy, two years younger, seemed old enough to be on their own, but Faith had found that contrary to expectations, kids needed parents around more in adolescence than when they were toddlers. Every day brought the equivalent of scraped knees and they weren’t the kind of hurts that could be soothed by Pat The Bunny and a chocolate chip cookie. She needed more time to think about taking the job. “I’m not sure I can leave my family…” was interrupted. “I quite understand that this would be difficult,” Dane said and then he named a figure so far above anything she had ever been offered that she actually covered her mouth to keep from gasping out loud.

“Look,” he continued. “Why don’t you come by and we’ll talk in person? You can see the place and decide then. I don’t use it myself, but the kitchen is well equipped—the rest of the house too. I’ll email directions and you can shoot me some times that work. This week if possible. I want to send out the invites right away.”

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to talk, Faith thought. And she did like seeing other people’s houses. She agreed, but before she hung up curiosity won out and she asked, “Are you related to the Max Dane who produced all those wonderful Broadway musicals?”

“Very closely. As in one and the same. See you soon.”

Faith put the phone down and turned to Pix Miller, her closest friend and part-time Have Faith employee.

“That was someone wanting Have Faith to cater a weekend long birthday celebration—for an astonishing amount of money.” She named the figure in a breathless whisper. “His name is Max Dane. Have you ever heard of him?”

“Even I know who Max Dane is. Sam took me to New York the December after we were married and we saw one of his shows. It was magical—the whole weekend was. No kids yet. We were kids ourselves. We skated at Rockefeller Center by the tree and…”

Her friend didn’t go in for sentimental journeys and tempted as she was to note Pix and Sam skated on Aleford Pond then and now, Faith didn’t want to stop the flow of memories. “Where did you stay? A suite at the Plaza?” Sam was a very successful lawyer.

Pix came down to earth. “We barely had money for the show and pre-theater dinner at Twenty-One. That was the big splurge. I honestly can’t remember where we stayed and I should, because that’s where—” She stopped abruptly and blushed, also unusual Pix behavior.

“Say no more. Nine months later along came Mark?”

“Something like that,” Pix mumbled and then in her usual more assertive voice, added “You have to do this. Not because of the money, although the man must be loaded! Think of who might be there. And the house must be amazing. We don’t have anything booked for then and I can keep an eye on the kids.”

The Millers lived next door to the parsonage and their three now grown children had been the Fairchilds’ babysitters. Pix played a more essential role: Faith’s tutor in the unforeseen intricacies of childrearing as well as Aleford’s often arcane mores. Faith’s first social faux pas as a new bride—inviting guests for dinner at eight o’clock— had happily been avoided when her first invite, Pix, gently told Faith the town’s inhabitants would be thinking bed soon at that hour, not a main course.

Faith had started her catering business in the city that never slept before she was married and was busy all year long. Here January was always a slow month for business. The holidays were over and things didn’t start to pick up until Valentine’s Day—and even then scheduling events was risky. It all came down to weather.

Pix was at the computer. Years ago she’d agreed to work at Have Faith keeping the books, the calendar, inventory—anything that did not involve any actual food preparation.

“We have a couple of receptions at the Ganley Museum and the MLK breakfast the standing clergy host.”

The first time Faith heard the term, “standing clergy”, which was the town’s men and women of any cloth, she pictured an upright somberly garbed group in rows like ninepins. And she hadn’t been far off.

“That’s pretty much it,” Pix added, “except for a few luncheons and Amelia’s baby shower—I think she baby sat for you a couple of times when she was in high school.”

“I remember she was very reliable,” Faith said.

“Hard to believe she’s the same age as Samantha and having her second!” Pix sounded wistful. She was the type of woman born to wear a “I Spoil My Grandchildren” tee shirt. Faith wouldn’t be surprised if there were a drawer somewhere in the Miller’s house filled with tiny sweaters and booties knit by Pix, “just to be ready.” Mark Miller, the oldest, was married, but he and his wife did not seem to be in a rush to start a family.

Samantha, the middle Miller, had a long-term beau, Caleb. They were living together in trendy Park Slope, Brooklyn and Sam, an old-fashioned pater familias, had to be restrained from asking Caleb his intentions each time the young couple came to Aleford. Pix was leaning that way herself, she’d told Faith recently, noting that young couples these days were so intent on careers they didn’t hear the clock ticking.

Faith had forgotten that Amelia—who apparently had paid attention to time— was Samantha’s age and quickly changed the subject to what was uppermost in her mind—the Dane job. “Where is Havencrest?” she asked. “I thought I knew all the neighboring towns.”

“It’s not really a town so much as an enclave between Weston and Dover. I don’t think it even has a zip code. I’ve never been there, but Mother has. You can ask her about it. The houses all date to the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. I believe there’s a gatehouse at the entrance. It’s an early equivalent of the mid century modern planned communities like Moon Hill in Lexington. Havencrest wasn’t a bunch of architects like that one though. Just very rich Boston Brahmin families who wanted privacy and plenty of space. I wonder how Max Dane ended up there? From what Mother has said, the houses don’t change hands, just generations.”

“I think I’ll check my email and see if there’s anything from him yet,” Faith said. “And maybe drop by to see Ursula on my way home.” Stopping to visit with Ursula Lyman Rowe, Pix’s mother, was no chore. The octogenarian was one of Faith’s favorite people. She turned back to the éclairs, which were part of a special order, and added a few more to bring to her friend.

“I know you’ll take the job,” Pix said. “I’m predicting the weekend of a lifetime!”

***

Excerpt from The Body in the Casket by Katherine Hall Page. Copyright © 2017 by William Morrow. Reproduced with permission from William Morrow. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio

Katherine Hall Page

Katherine Hall Page is the author of twenty-three previous Faith Fairchild mysteries, the first of which received the Agatha Award for best first mystery. The Body in the Snowdrift was honored with the Agatha Award for best novel of 2006. Page also won an Agatha for her short story “The Would-Be Widower.” The recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award at Malice Domestic, she has been nominated for the Edgar Award, the Mary Higgins Clark Award, and the Macavity Award. She lives in Massachusetts, and Maine, with her husband.

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Giveaway

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Katherine Hall Page and Witness Impulse. There will be 3 winners of one (1) physical copy of Katherine Hall Page’s The Body in the Casket. The giveaway begins on December 4, 2017 and runs through January 14, 2018. This giveaway is open to US addressess only.

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Giveaway & Review – A Pound of Flesh by Alex Gray @Alexincrimeland @partnersincr1me

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A Pound of Flesh

by Alex Gray

on Tour November 6 – December 6, 2017

 

MY REVIEW

A female vigilante. I love it!

Her friends death haunts her and she can find no relief, not even in the killing. Doesn’t matter. She will not stop until she finds HIM.

DS William Lorimer has been promoted to head of the Serious Crimes Squad. What’s on the agenda? Four murdered prostitutes.

BUT, when Deputy First Minister Edward Pattison is murdered, he must pass the prostitute murders to other divisions. He is not happy with it at all. Do some see the prostitutes as less valuable? They deserve justice as much as anyone else.

Instinct and compassion are two of William’s best traits. He cares about ALL victims. He would rather be on the streets, than shuffling paperwork, doing press conferences, and playing politics.

“Killing Time” has a double meaning for HER. SHE is smart, bold, and on a mission. I feel so much compassion for her. I know she has a tragic story and I can see why she did what she did. Sometimes we have to take justice into our own hands and I love that she did just that. My biggest worry…what will happen to her in the end?

As the investigation ramps up, connections are made. Police procedures unfold, piece by piece the clues are gathered. More than one persons secrets will be exposed.

The danger is subtle, yet permeates the pages, lingering, creating tension and a sense of urgency. Lily…what will become of her? Will she make it out alive? I have much empathy and concern for this young girl who doesn’t deserve what life has dealt her.

I LOVE the ending. Alex Gray did a fabulous job of leaving me satisfied.

I voluntarily reviewed an ARC of A Pound of Flesh by Alex Gray.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos 4 Stars

Synopsis:

 

In the depths of a freezing winter, Glasgow finds itself at the mercy of not one, but two serial killers

This is Detective Inspector Lorimer’s worst nightmare and beyond anything he’s faced in his many years on the force. Can he find a link between the brutal slaying of prostitutes in the back streets of the city and the methodical killing of several unconnected businessmen?

When the latest victim turns out to be a prominent Scottish politician, the media’s spotlight is shone on Lorimer’s investigation. Psychologist and criminal profiler Solly Brightman is called in to help solve the cases, but his help may be futile as they realize that someone on the inside is leaking confidential police information. Meanwhile two killers haunt the snowy streets and Lorimer must act fast, before they strike again…

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery & Detective
Published by: Witness Impulse
Publication Date: November 7th 2017
Number of Pages: 368
ISBN: 0062659227 (ISBN13: 9780062659224)
Series: DCI Lorimer #9
Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Barnes & Noble 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗

Read an excerpt:

It wasn’t always easy to see the moon or the stars. This city’s sodium glow rose like yellow fog from its streets, blotting out any chance of star gazing. But she knew it was there. That cold white face dominated her thoughts tonight and she shivered as though it already saw her flesh naked and exposed to its unblinking watchfulness. Perhaps it was because she was trying to be seen that she felt such awareness. The red jersey pencil skirt folded over to create a too-short mini, those agonisingly high-heeled sandals cutting into her bare toes; spread across the bed back in the hotel they had seemed the garb of an adventuress.

Now, revealed in the glare of the street lamp on this corner she felt a sense of…what? Shame? Perhaps. Self-consciousness, certainly. But such feelings must be overcome if her plan was to work.

She had already overcome the blank indifference of the girls down in Waterloo Street, their body language both defiant and compelling. Her hips shifted, one slender foot thrust forwards, as she remembered how they had stood, languidly chewing gum, waiting for their punters. Their desperation drove them to return night after night, the price of a wrap of drugs equating to an hour with some stranger.

Her own need was just as strong, fuelled by a passion that would not be spent until she had fulfilled her desire. It was warm in this Glasgow summer’s night and her black nylon blouse clung to her back, making her uncomfortably aware of her own flesh. The thin cotton coat she’d worn to conceal these trashy clothes as she’d tapped her way across the marble foyer of the hotel was now folded into the black bag at her feet, along with her more sober court shoes. When it was over she would slip them on and return the way she had come, hair clipped in a businesslike pleat. She smiled thinly. Being a woman had some advantages; the facility for disguise was just one of them. Her carefully made-up face was stripped of colour in the unforgiving lamplight, leaving only an impression of dark eyes, darker hair tossed back to reveal a long, determined mouth. She recalled what Tracey- Anne, one of the girls at the drop-in centre, had told her: I get through it by pretending to be someone else for a few hours, then I can be myself again.

Tracey-Anne was lucky, though. After tonight she could never again be the person that she used to be. Glancing at the elegant façades around the square, the dark-haired woman suddenly saw these city streets through different eyes: the shadows seemed blacker, the corners harbouring ill intent. Her chin tilted upwards, defying those inner demons tempting her to turn back.

After tonight things would change for ever. When the car slowed down at the kerb her heart quickened in a moment of anticipation that astonished her. She had expected the thrill of fear, not this rush of excitement sweeping through her blood.

The man behind the wheel had bent his head and she could see his eyes flicking over her hungrily, appraising his choice. He gave a brief nod as if to say he was pleased with his first instinct to stop. Her lip-glossed mouth drawn up in a smile, she stepped forward, willing him to reach across and open the window, ask her price. For a moment he seemed to hesitate and she could see tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip, glistening in the light. Then the door of the big car swung open noiselessly and she lowered herself inside, swinging her legs neatly together to show as much thigh as she could. But the gestures were still ladylike, almost reserved, as if she knew that would quicken his senses.

‘How much?’ he asked. And she told him, one shoulder moving insouciantly as if to declare that she wasn’t bothered whether he could afford her or not: someone else would pay that price if he wouldn’t. She glanced at him briefly, catching sight of the tip of his tongue flicking at his lips like a nervous lizard, then he made a gruff noise of assent, looking at her again, as though to be sure of his purchase, before accelerating into the night.

***

Excerpt from A Pound of Flesh by Alex Gray. Copyright © 2017 by Alex Gray. Reproduced with permission from Witness Impulse. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

Alex Gray

Alex Gray was born and educated in Glasgow. After studying English and Philosophy at the University of Strathclyde, she worked as a visiting officer for the Department of Health, a time she looks upon as postgraduate education since it proved a rich source of character studies. She then trained as a secondary school teacher of English. Alex began writing professionally in 1993 and had immediate success with short stories, articles, and commissions for BBC radio programs. She has been awarded the Scottish Association of Writers’ Constable and Pitlochry trophies for her crime writing. A regular on the Scottish bestseller lists, she is the author of fourteen DCI Lorimer novels. She is the co-founder of the international Scottish crime writing festival, Bloody Scotland, which had its inaugural year in 2012.

Connect with Alex Gray on her Website 🔗 & Twitter 🔗.

Tour Participants:

Visit the other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

Giveaway:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Alex Gray and Witness Impulse. There will be 3 winner of one (1) eBook copy of Alex Gray’s SLEEP LIKE THE DEAD. The giveaway begins on November 6 and runs through December 10, 2017.

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