How to Solve a Murder with a Grump Laura Pauling Publication date: October 8th 2024 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Mystery, Romance
Barrie:
I am determined to make my best friend’s wedding weekend perfect. That includes editing the best man’s speech and making sure he doesn’t drink too much.
Except, he’s the worst kind of grump with a capital G.
Not only that but when this perfect wedding unravels, I find myself the object of his wrath.
He blames me.
So I run.
And I’m wearing the wedding dress. (Don’t ask.)
As I hide out in a small town, following my dreams, I stumble upon a decades-old murder mystery.
Turns out texting the grump might be my only lifeline. And I’m definitely not flirt-texting. Nope. Not me.
Because falling for a grump can only lead to a broken heart.
Right?
Miles:
For the record, I am not a grump.
It’s not me. It’s them.
It’s women.
I’m looking forward to the wedding this weekend. My best friend is getting married.
And the maid of honor texts me.
Not just once.
Oh, no, because that would be much too sensible. Nope. Try a dozen. It felt like a hundred.
I can tell by a glance at the texts that she’s one of those micro-managing, in your business, thinks-she-knows-everything type of woman.
Forget it.
I don’t want her number. I don’t want coffee. I don’t want a date.
I don’t want a single conversation.
Okay, fine. I’m a grump.
But can you blame me?
How to Solve a Murder with a Grump is a full-length hilarious romantic mystery with a swoony, heart-thumping, happily-ever-after kind of ending complete with glitter bombs, snapping turtles (imaginary or not), a decades-old murder, and grand romantic gestures.
You see, I’m running late and the elevator is taking forever to get to the bottom floor. My best friend is getting married in two days, and I’m the maid of honor. I’m trying to compose a text to the best man so we can talk about the speeches. I should’ve reached out to him ages ago, but this weekend came fast. It snuck up on me.
Then, a man near me clears his throat, like he’s trying to send me a message. I take one look at him.
No doubt in my mind he’s a Mr. Grumpy Pants, because I can pick them out a mile away. They’re easy to spot once you know the signs.
Of course, sometimes you’ll get lucky. You’ll make a quick exit. Or he’ll spill his coffee. Someone else will grab his attention.
But there will be times you have to interact with this particular species of men.
Just so you know, there are many ways to deal with a grump. I could write a book on it.
First, don’t be fooled by those flashing white teeth and sexy smirks. Don’t be fooled by a blue shirt, almost the color of tropical ocean water that offsets the gray of his eyes. Don’t be fooled by the rippling muscles underneath the blue shirt.
Nope.
Sexy grumps are the most dangerous, because they’ll steal your heart then stomp all over it.
Author Bio:
I write about spies, murder, and mystery. I love a lot of things about writing and reading stories that have mystery and romance. I love the puzzle of a whodunnit and witty banter between characters who love to hate each other. Especially, when they don’t know they are falling in love.
There are about a gazillion books in the wilds of Amazon and maybe half of them are mysteries. If you want to make sure you know when I have a new release in a current series or the start of a new series then visit www.laurapauling.com and sign up for my newsletter.
Everyone in town loves the handsome handyman.
Everyone except his new neighbor.
Out of jail and desperate for work, Vincent scrapes by with odd jobs. He’s hired to help the gray-haired lady move in next door but stumbles when he finds nothing old or feeble about Hilary.
Rejected by her husband after her body rejected implants, the breast cancer survivor shuts out Vincent until a kitchen appliance crisis forces her to accept his help. Convinced that he could do better, she keeps the younger man at a distance, but he persists, building her confidence and coaxing her out of her colorless cocoon.
With the hot handyman by her side and in her bed, Hilary develops a community program bringing at-risk youth into the building trades. But not everyone wants to see the ex-con succeed. An old foe is determined to derail Vincent, and Hilary is caught in the chaos.
She’s ready to retreat. Ready to leave everything behind—including Vincent.
Can he convince her to stay?
#HotAndHandy is a small-town, reverse age-gap romance between two people starting over after being kicked to the curb by life and love.
It was Friday, and Vincent hadn’t seen Hilary all week, even though they shared the same address. They’d texted, though, and agreed to happy hour on her deck, with him bringing the drinks and her providing the food. Taking the stairs two at a time, he smiled at his own eagerness. Last week was great. Her enthusiasm for setting up the training program was contagious. Tonight, they would work on a proposal to present to Iris and Ali, to get KBS on board. And hopefully, they’d do some more kissing. He stopped himself from thinking beyond that. After all Hilary had been through, he did not want to rush her. His cock argued otherwise; thus Vincent started and ended each day with a cold shower.
He shifted the six-pack of beer and bottle of wine in his arms to rap on the door. No one answered. Glancing over to the driveway, he confirmed Hilary’s car and bicycle were both there. Through the windows of the French doors, he saw her purse and car keys sitting on the counter so he tried the doorknob. Unlocked, he pushed the door open and called, “Hey, you okay?”
“Not really. Can you come back here?”
Dropping the booze on the table, he hustled to the bedroom, expecting more blood. The room was empty. “Hilary?”
Her voice came from the en suite bathroom. “In here.”
He peeked in to find her rooted to the floor, arms crossed over her chest, facing away from the door. Seeking her reflection in the mirror, he caught the disgusted look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“There was a huge-ass spider. It startled me, and I dropped my glass, which shattered on the floor. I can’t move because I’m afraid I’ll cut myself.”
“I’m thinking you should give up day drinking,” he said, taking in the broken glass and Hilary’s bare feet.
“It was a glass of water.”
“Maybe buy plastic stuff. You and glass don’t seem to get along.” He grinned at her growl of annoyance.
From his examination of the floor, his eyes moved upward and widened. She wore bright pink panties and a matching camisole. Nothing else. He swallowed. With clothes, she was hot. Without, she was dynamite. Long firm legs, tight rounded ass, flat belly, and toned arms. She may not have tits, but Hilary was sexy as hell.
“Are you going to stare, or are you going to help me?” Bright red dots sat high on her cheekbones.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, umm…give me a second.” He pulled off his T-shirt and placed it on the floor at the base of Hilary’s bed. Then he leaned into the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel from the rack. “I’m going to wipe down the backs of your legs in case there are any pieces of glass on them.” Glass crunched beneath him, and he was thankful to be wearing shoes. He crouched, and carefully ran the towel down the backs of her thighs and calves. She tightened at his touch, and he heard a sharp intake of breath. He spoke gently as he would to a wild animal, “Your legs look fine. I’m going to pick you up and put you on the end of the bed. We’ll do the fronts of your legs, and then your feet.” He glanced up to catch her nod, then tossed the towel over his shoulder as he rose to stand next to her. A pulse beat rapidly in the hollow of her throat. He grinned at her reflection. “I promise not to drop you.” With one arm behind her knees and one arm around her shoulders, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He placed her down so her feet were above his T-shirt on the floor, and knelt in front of her. Her slim foot was silky smooth, and he concentrated on looking at the skin of her legs and feet, trying not to inhale the provocative scent emanating from the juncture of her thighs. “I didn’t know you were afraid of spiders.”
She huffed and crossed her arms again. “I’m not afraid. It startled me. Did I not mention it was a huge-ass spider? It had to be the size of a dinner plate.”
“Really?” He sat back on his heels, trying not to smile. “And what happened to it?”
“I don’t know.” She waved an arm in dismissal. “It probably scuttled back down the drain, laughing at me. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me scream.”
He picked up his T-shirt and wrapped the towel in it, chuckling as he stood. “I didn’t see any glass, but I’m going to shake these out over the garbage can and put them on the washing machine. Then I’ll grab the vacuum cleaner. Don’t move until I get back. There might be bits of glass in the carpet by the door.” Looking up, he caught her gaze on his chest and abs…and lower. He slowly straightened, not bothering to conceal the proof of his arousal.
The red spots were back in her cheeks. “Fine. I’ll be here.”
Author Bio:
Lynne Hancock Pearson writes fun, flirty, feel-good fiction that simmers at low heat. Set in the Pacific Northwest, they are stories of people finding their way, even if it takes a while to get there.
She lives near Seattle with two and a half finicky felines and one long-suffering husband. She is a left-handed middle child who grew up in the Great White North and is a proud member of the Métis Nation of Canada.
Tender Temptation is a scorching tale of age-gap, insta-forbidden-love, hidden identities, coming of age, and second chances.
I’m a master at rebuilding structures, yet my own life is a constant work in progress. As the middle brother in a family of superstars, I’ve battled alcohol addiction and shoulder the hefty challenge of taking over the family business.
My world makes a seismic shift when I fall hard for Ivy Bright, a vibrant, enigmatic firecracker whose captivating energy makes me feel invincible.
Ivy is more than just a spark in my shadowed world—she’s a blaze. Her luminous presence ignites a clandestine desire in me that I can’t resist. But Ivy harbors deep secrets and a tragic past that keeps her trapped in a life she never chose. Despite our undeniable chemistry, her decision to conceal her age and identity backfires spectacularly, threatening to unravel both our hearts.
Years later, will our rekindled passion withstand buried secrets that come to light, or will the truths of our past push us apart forever?
Hustling down Second Avenue, with little reprieve from the endless downpour, I try to pull my heavy canvas jacket closed, my flannel shirt and black jeans are practically plastered to my body. Water sloshes into my work boots as I try to navigate glistening puddles pooling on the sidewalk.
I’m soaked to the bone.
Like most native Seattleites, I don’t own a fucking umbrella.
Stubbornly stupid.
Ah, fuck it. I deserve to be wet and uncomfortable. After the day I’ve had, I might as well get the flu on top of it.
Finally, I spy the green awning up ahead despite the darkened skies. A few more steps and I push through door of the Metropolitan Grill, a Seattle steakhouse institution. Veering left to avoid the hostess, I take a seat at the bar in all my damp glory.
Settling onto my usual stool with embarrassingly practiced ease, I’m self-aware enough to realize it’s an act of defiance against my wicked cravings. My eyes, inadvertently—or advertently, who the fuck knows—drift to the rows of amber bottles gleaming against the under light of the glass shelving.
Particularly to the whiskey. Lord, what I’d give for a fucking taste. How I’d savor it. Vanilla and smoky oak. Sweet notes of caramel and honey. A hint of fruit, either orange zest or a slice of crisp apple. I shut my eyes and practically feel the warmth enveloping me in a comforting glow, radiating through every vein and easing the burdens of my mind. Soothing the aches of my soul. Wrapping around me like a soft, fluffy blanket on a shitty Seattle night.
It’s been over a year since I’ve had a sip. Even though every day is a battle, I haven’t been tempted in months. Today, though, the fight feels harder. The liquor more alluring.
Freddy, the bartender whom I’ve known for years, sets down a tonic water with lime in front of me. I grip the cool, clear glass tightly, hoping the lime’s sharp scent will override the memory of peat and warmth. The guy in a suit two seats down orders a Red Breast neat. My jaw clenches with envy. The liquid gold catches the light as Freddy pours it with an easy flick of the wrist.
Mesmerizing.
Tamping down the old, familiar ache, I turn away. Focus on the clink of glasses and the murmur of conversations around me—anything to drown out the noise in my head. It’s a silent struggle, unseen by the laughing customers in the busy restaurant.
I take a sip of my tonic, the fizz biting at my tongue. It’s a pale imitation of what I truly crave, but at least it’s safe. Necessary. I’m fully aware of the consequences if I were to give in to my demons. I’ve lived and breathed them and won’t live one more day with regret coiling in my gut. Still, I need something…more.
“Hey, man. Can I get a hot coffee?” I tap the polished wood with my finger to get Freddy’s attention. “I’m soaking wet and fucking freezing.”
“Sure.” Seconds later he hands me a steaming mug. “Cream or sugar?”
“Both.” I slide a twenty toward him. Coffee is no substitute for the nectar of the gods, but at least it will warm me up and keep me sober.
Hell, it’s no small feat considering what happened today. Suddenly, I’m on the brink of losing my shit and I have no one to blame but myself.
Well, maybe my stupid, inherited addiction genes. Memories of my da’s spiral into alcoholism invade my thoughts. Barely a teenager when he crashed and burned. I was instrumental in helping him rebuild the business he founded once he got sober. A decade ago, I took over as CEO and now McGloughlin Construction, is the biggest game in town. For what?
A terrible mistake I made three years ago coming back to haunt me and destroy all my hard work?
Author Bio:
When she was only 15, Kaylene Winter wrote her first rocker romance novel starring a fictionalized version of herself, her friends and their gorgeous rocker boyfriends. After living her own rockstar life as a band manager, music promoter and mover and shaker in Seattle during the early 1990’s, Kaylene became a digital media legal strategist helping bring movies, television and music online. Throughout her busy career, Kaylene lost herself in romance novels across all genres inspiring her to realize her life-long dream to be a published author. She lives in Seattle with her amazing husband and dog. She loves to travel, throw lavish dinner parties and support charitable causes supporting arts and animals.
In Eliot Parker’s engrossing Table for Two, human connection
anchors the core. Through a collection of modern short stories,
Parker deftly explores the nature of relationships: temporal and
abiding.
Table For Two
A Collection of
Short Stories
by Eliot Parker
Genre: Contemporary
Fiction, Short Stories
Conversation
is more than just words being spoken, interpreted, and acted upon by
others. Conversation is also the ultimate human interest activity,
bringing people into direct contact with people in all of their
complexity and vulnerability. The main characters in Parker’s ten
multi-genre stories set in the heart of Appalachia want to be heard;
to have others listen to them-really listen-and understand their
needs and concerns.
The characters in these
stories do not always get listened to, and many of them find that the
need for attention comes from aggression. A woman confronts her
father about his dementia. Two fathers whose guilt and shame over the
disappearances of their sons hide more sinister motives. A young boy
frustrated with a ring appraisal learns a lesson about how people and
things can be valued equally. Each of the characters in the
collection is faced with a balance of talking and listening with a
need for action, which often leads to manipulation and coercion.
The characters in these stories
want to be heard; to have others listen to them-really listen-and
understand their needs and concerns. However, when they do not get
listened to, there is often an attempted persuasion by aggression.
One character often finds himself/herself faced with another
character who believes that conversation has no place in their lives.
The belief of the antagonists
in these stories is that- who needs to talk when there is action that
needs to be done? The antagonists believe that there is no need for
conversation when the protagonist can be manipulated, coerced, or
discredited by actions. Each story is a thrilling adventure with
unexpected turns. Parker’s honest and provocative prose will
captivate readers with its urgency.
Eliot
Parker is the author of the thriller novel A FINAL CALL, which was
named a “Best Indie Book to Discover in 2022” by Kirkus
Magazine and was a finalist in thriller novel from the London Book
Festival. His short story collection SNAPSHOTS, won the 2020 PenCraft
Literary Award and the 2021 Feathered Quill Book Award for Short
Story Anthology. His thriller novel, A KNIFE’S EDGE, was an Amazon #1
bestseller. Eliot has received the West Virginia Literary Merit Award
for his works and has also been a finalist for the Southern Book
Prize in Thriller Writing in 2016 for his novel FRAGILE BRILLIANCE.
He hosts the podcast program,
“Now Appalachia” on the Authors on the Air Global Radio
Network, which profiles authors, editors, and publishers in the
Appalachian region. He also hosts a Youtube/Booktube program called
“Page Break,” featuring book reviews, interviews with
authors, and news about the publishing industry.
A graduate of the Bluegrass
Writers Studio at Eastern Kentucky University with his M.F.A. in
Creative Writing and a graduate of Murray State University with his
Doctorate in English, Eliot teaches writing that the University of
Mississippi. For more information, visit his website
http://www.eliotparker.com
Return to You Bella Rivers (Emerald Creek Series, #3) Publication date: June 12th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Two broken hearts. Ten years apart. Can one small town bring them back together?
Ten years in the military might have changed me, but it didn’t change the reasons I left Emerald Creek. Back for a short visit to my family after a decade away, I’ll do everything to keep my stay painless.
It will be short.
There will be no trips down memory lane.
There will be little to no reconnecting with locals.
One thing is certain: I won’t run into the girl who broke my heart. She’s long gone, married away.
Or so I thought.
All it takes is a pulled muscle, a massage tent at the town fair, and some not-so-subtle interventions from my friends for me to suddenly be alone with her—with me flat on my back on the massage table and her kneading me like I’m a stranger. Like what we had back then meant nothing to her.
She won’t even talk to me? Fine. I’m ready to bolt anyway.
But when the townies engineer another close encounter and I find out what she’s trying to hide from me, it’s Operation Get Her Back.
It’s dark inside the tent, and my eyes strain to adjust. A sweet and relaxing scent fills the atmosphere. Oriental-type carpets cover the ground, giving the space a sense of being elsewhere. There’s a chair next to the entrance and a massage table in the center.
To the back, there’s the silhouette of a woman busying herself at a small console with lotions. My heart ba-booms at the shape of her shoulders, the tilt of her head. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s thousands of miles away. Not here. And even if she was here, what does it matter? Shake it off, man.
But her dark, curly hair stirs something deep inside me, and I hold my breath.
Am I hallucinating? It can’t be her, dammit.
It’s a trick of my imagination.
Shit.
It’s been so long.
But then she turns around, and my heart hammers in my chest.
The last time I saw this woman, she didn’t even have one word for me.
After everything we’d shared. After everything she’d told me.
She was walking down the aisle, holding some idiot’s arm, a stiff smile fooling only herself, her gaze glazing over me.
And she didn’t have one word for me.
Not one explanation.
Didn’t even bother trying to be my friend.
It was like I’d never existed.
I’d been on leave, decided four years without coming back to my hometown was enough. I had one week off, and god played a trick on me. It was the weekend she was marrying someone else.
She was supposed to be mine.
Always was.
She said so herself. So many times.
But after her wedding, didn’t she move to Texas? She’s not supposed to be here.
She does a double take. Her eyes round, her mouth gapes, her breath catches.
“Why are you here?” I ask right as she says, “What brings you here?”
I clear my throat. “I’m—I’m just visiting.” I should add something generic and half-assed polite, like It’s nice to see you, or How have you been, but the words stay stuck in my throat.
She’s supposed to be in fucking Texas.
She blinks several times, takes a small breath, shows me a list of services calligraphed on an elegant paper and framed in gold. “I mean, what type of massage would you like?”
Oh, really? Not even Hey, Ethan. Not even Wow, it’s been a while.
Granted, I’m not good at small talk either.
But really? “I dunno. My back is tight. It hurts down to my leg.”
I can’t believe we’re talking like we’re two fucking strangers.
I glance at the tent opening. I never should have come here. I should just go. It’s only gonna get weirder and weirder.
Her voice is melodious with a touch of coldness. Professional. “Strip down to your underwear and get under the sheet. Face down.” She turns around. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Yeah, that’s not gonna work out. “I-I… maybe I should just go.”
She whips around. Her eyes are shiny, her bottom lip trembles until she pulls herself together and snaps her mouth in a fine line. Her voice catches when she says, “Yeah, maybe you should.”
What the hell? I don’t think so. I pull my T-shirt off my back. Her eyes narrow on my torso, slide down to my abs, and even in the dimness of the tent I can see her cheeks turning a deep red. She catches herself and turns her back to me just as I unbuckle my jeans.
I fold my clothes neatly and place them on a stool. My hands don’t shake. My heartbeat doesn’t rattle the tent. Nothing betrays the anger boiling inside me. Then I slide under the cool sheet.
Face down. I turn on my belly. I wish I could look at her. Make her squirm under my gaze. Ask her to her face what the hell happened to her.
To us.
“Ready,” I grunt.
Author Bio:
Bella Rivers writes steamy small town romances with a guaranteed happily ever after, and themes of found family and forgiveness. Expect hot scenes, fierce love, and strong language!
A hopeless romantic, Bella is living her own second chance romance in the rolling hills of Vermont. When she’s not telling the stories of the characters populating her dreams, you can find her baking, hiking, skiing, or just hanging around her small town to soak in the happiness.
Her newsletter is where Bella shares progress on her writing as well as sneak peeks into upcoming books, the occasional recipe from her characters, and books from other writers she thinks her readers might like. Subscribe from her website.
You can also connect with Bella on TikTok, Instagram, or Facebook, all @bellariversauthor, or through the contact form on her website.
Love Signals Melanie Summers (Love Struck Romantic Comedy, #2) Publication date: June 6th 2024 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
A loud-out-loud, opposites-attract, only-one-bed, revenge romantic comedy from Amazon All-Star Melanie Summers…
Allie Cammareri is about to get her revenge. It’s been twelve years coming, but she’s finally going to defeat the ex who stole her research then dumped her.
She’s in a race against him to finish the same big project, and there can only be one winner. All she needs is a few more weeks of working around the clock, and victory will be hers.
So when her boss announces she’s being pulled off the project to mentor a Hollywood A-lister who’s preparing for an upcoming movie role, Allie is devastated. She doesn’t care that it’s People’s Sexiest Man, Hudson Finch.
Allie refuses to let him get in her way, even if Hudson is the most distracting (and delicious-smelling) man on the planet. But between the close confines of her tiny office and a night stranded together in a secluded mountain cabin, her feelings for Hudson turn into something she never could’ve predicted.
She may be falling hard for him, but can Allie really find her happily ever after in his muscley arms?
*** Love Signals is an irresistibly charming, deliciously dishy, banter-filled tale about an ordinary woman and the superstar who falls for her. With a crazy cast—including a father who’s sure no one will ever be good enough for his little girl—there’s sure to be plenty of cringe-worthy moments, lots of laughs, and even a few tears. It’s a standalone rom-com with a few tablespoons of extra spice than a regular Melanie Summers book.***
I stare at myself in the mirror. I’m brushing my teeth with some sort of magical brush that feels like it’s a thousand tiny hands massaging my gums. The toothpaste is a ginger mint flavor that comes from an old-timey-looking silver tube that is probably made from actual silver. I’m wearing the softest, coziest striped men’s flannel p.j.’s of all time (seriously, they feel like getting a big, warm hug). The slippers are too big but the fleece lining is so incredibly soft, I want to live in them forever.
What is happening? Seriously? What? How?
I’m getting a glimpse into what it’s like to be rich and famous. Well, rich, anyway. Or someone with generous rich friends. But it’s not real. This isn’t my life, it’s his. It’ll never be my life. I’m Allegra Cammareri, nerd, scientist, loving daughter, and pushover auntie. I’m not some sexy sex goddess who men like Hudson Finch fall for. They fall for voluptuous hotties from Brazil or icy blondes with perfect skin from Sweden. Not girls like me. I wasn’t even interesting enough to keep Lando’s attention, and he’s a fellow nerd.
But it doesn’t matter because that’s not what this is, and I know it. But whatever it is, it’s incredibly fun. And a little flirty, and totally exciting, even though it’s under the world’s weirdest circumstances. I’m here to hang out with a man who I don’t want around (or so I thought) while he recovers from a poisonous spider bite.
And he’s sweet and funny and thoughtful and sexy as hell, and … and I’m going to get so badly hurt if I don’t hit the brakes on my feelings. But maybe, just for tonight, since I’m here anyway, I could just let myself enjoy being with him. As a friend.
Yes, that’s what we are. Friends. New ones. Who flirt with each other while one of us is drugged. And really, I’m only flirting with him to distract him from his situation, which, when you think about it, is an act of service. So, in a way, I have to keep flirting with him. It’s what Jesus would do. But as soon as we’re back at the office however, it’ll be all business. But for now … fun.
Author Bio:
Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.
Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.
In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).
Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.
She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.
Genre: Romantic Suspense/Contemporary/African American
MY REVIEW
Homecoming Chaos by D W Brooks was, all in all, a homecoming that kept me turning pages as the characters developed and the mystery unfolded.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
After a quick visual scan, Rachel couldn’t find anything wrong with him,; his only flaw was that he was there.
I was cracking up from the getgo…But it was all downhill from there for Rachel, and it opened the mystery.
In the middle of her first night home her mother wakes her at midnight. There is a murder at the lab the family owns and she wants Jamie there.
Jamie had run as far from home as you could get, avoiding her helicopter mother. Her Homecoming was sure to be Chaos. Her life seemed to invite chaos. She was determined to live her own life this time.
“…Your mother lives fro drama, your brother dates chaos whenever he can, your sister married into chaos, and you search it out. I should call you Trey Chaos.”
Detective Nick Marshall is on the case and Jamie revels in her ability to annoy him. I thought it was funny too.
As the mystery unfolds and I become more familiar with the characters, the pacing speeds up, the danger amps up, and I am eager to get all the answers before something else happens some of the characters I have come to care about.
I love that the Atlanta are was familiar to me. It’s always fun to visit a place I have been. I love the characters are not your run of the mill characters. They are African American from the wealthy suburbs of Buckhead.
Secrets from the past are revealed and romance flourishes. I feel there will be more to this story. Will this be a series? I do think it will be fun to spend more time with the family. 🙂
4 Stars
BOOK BLURB:
Jamie Scott’s life fell apart four years ago when she broke off her engagement, turned down a dream job, and went overseas to run away from her life. Now she’s back, but the reunion is not without problems. She arrives home just in time to attend the soiree her mother planned, but she’s not prepared for what she finds—a dead employee in the parking lot.
Detective Nick Marshall is assigned to the murder case at the forensics lab owned by Jamie’s family. He meets the headstrong Jamie, but he has a job to do. And his attraction to her… well, he’s a professional.
Jamie knows the stakes are high. She has to face the past and save her parents’ business while dealing with her family drama and an uncertain future. She also has to deal with Nick, who wants her out of the way of his investigation. But fate keeps throwing them in one another’s paths… and into chaos that they both want to avoid, but neither can seem to escape.
The sound of the flight attendant on the loudspeaker startled Jamison Jones Scott out of her light sleep. Despite having traveled frequently in her lifetime, she still couldn’t sleep comfortably on a plane. The seat location— first-class or economy—didn’t make a difference. The plane was nearing its destination, so the passengers needed to finish filling out their declaration cards. Jamie was returning to Atlanta to stay at her parents’ home with only the clothes on her back, a computer bag, the few items of clothing in her duffel, and a stethoscope. She had nothing to declare.
Her seatmate appeared to be sleeping through the announcements. Jamie was jealous. The four-year-old in front of her turned around and started babbling excitedly in French. She must have noticed that Jamie was finally awake. With her head still fuzzy from her nap, Jamie couldn’t completely follow the child’s rapid words, but the gist was that she wanted something from Jamie. Something about a playdate? Jamie smiled at the girl and hoped the girl’s mother would intervene. No such luck; she was asleep as well. The child eyeballed Jamie expectantly. Jamie realized she and the seatmate had started this situation by playing with the dark-haired child while they were over the ocean. Now, when she didn’t agree to the latest request, the little girl scrunched up her face to cry.
“Nous atterrissons bientôt. Elle ne peut pas aller avec vous,” Jamie’s seatmate answered, eyes still closed. “Mais vous pourriez être en mesure de visiter. Je suis sûr qu’elle tu aimerait garder les enfants.” He grinned.
Jamie gasped while the young girl clapped. This guy had just volunteered her as a babysitter!
“Je suis désolé, mais il se trompe. Je ne serai pas disponible,” Jamie stated. “Je parie qu’il a une surprise, pour toi.” The child looked at Jamie’s seatmate for her present and clapped again. This reply made him open his eyes.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est? Qu’est-ce que c’est?” the child asked. Startled, her pregnant mother woke up and turned around in her seat sheepishly.
I’m sorry, she mouthed. She made her eager daughter turn around in her seat and asked her to leave the other passengers alone. The girl was disappointed, but her mother handed her a shortbread, which made her forget the people behind her.
Her seatmate smiled, opened his eyes, and said, “I could have given her the stuffed bear I bought. I have a daughter the same age.” He stretched gingerly. “I can’t wait to get home. I’ve been traveling for too long. What about you? Looking forward to getting home?”
Jamie thought about her return to Atlanta. She hadn’t been home in a while, so she wasn’t sure how she felt.
Revel in the chaos.
Revel in the chaos.
Revel in the chaos.
Jamie tried to live by this motto for most of her life because her life seemed to invite chaos. She learned to expect—and sometimes encourage—complications. As the plane taxied to a halt, she repeated her motto to herself. This phrase, tattooed on her right hip, particularly applied now.
The international terminal of Hartsfield-Jackson Airport had changed since she was last there. Her brother, Jonathan, would pick her up at the baggage claim—alone, she hoped, and not sporting a clingy girlfriend. Time to re-acclimate and re-establish family bonds. Dealing with an unknown woman in her face when she wanted to spend time quietly with her brother wasn’t at the top of her to-do list.
As she waited in line to get through passport control, she thought about how she got to this point—back in Atlanta after several years abroad. She had spent two of those years working with the non-profit organization Doctors Overseas. Jamie worked in several locations, including the Central African Republic. She had her reasons for joining the charitable organization; not all were altruistic, and she kept those to herself during her entrance interview. The horrors she witnessed overseas helped her put her personal chaos into perspective. She realized her issues were nothing compared to what people endured in other parts of the world. This realization allowed her to embrace her job and enjoy what she was doing, despite the frequent threats of bodily harm. To help maintain her sanity while overseas, she traveled a lot and spent six months in Italy working with a designer friend.
The agent summoning her snapped her out of her reverie. Handing over her passport, she said, “Nothing to declare. Coming back home for my mother’s birthday and Christmas.”
At the check-in counter, the inspector carefully examined her and her passport photo. Jamison understood the scrutiny. At the time of that picture, she had been at the height of her glamor phase with a history of modeling and a resulting, above-average concern about how she looked. In medical school, she often showed up at rounds with perfectly coiffed hair and more than a swipe of mascara and lip gloss.
But in Africa, those concerns fell away. Right now, Jamie was makeup-free, and a baseball cap covered her hair. She was still beautiful, but now it was a girl-next-door beauty. Jamie had high cheekbones, almond-shaped dark brown eyes, a straight nose, a square jawline, and her golden-brown skin was still smooth. She wasn’t stomping down runways anymore, as in her past life, because she had shifted her priorities.
Her mother would hate it.
“Welcome to Atlanta,” the inspector said as she stamped her passport. “Have a pleasant stay.”
About the Author
The author lives in Texas with her husband and children. She enjoys trying to stay in shape, sporadically cooking, reading (still), writing, and working on her blog. She is eternally grateful to the woman who donated a kidney to her over 5 years ago and continues to advocate for organ donation as much as she can.
Book Title: Dead Letters by P.J. Murphy Category: Adult Fiction (18+), 349 pages Genre: Mystery, Literary Fiction Publisher: P.J. Murphy Release date: May 2023 Content Rating: PG-13 +M. The book is not violent, and swearing is infrequent. There are a number of references to ghosts, but the atmosphere is more gothic than scary (with one exception). However, it is a book aimed squarely at adults, with references to depression and mental illness.
Book Description:
“If you want to find me, search within these pages.”
Bestselling author Richard Debden is missing. The only clue: a copy of his unpublished final novel delivered to his ex-girlfriend, Amy. When those closest to Richard reunite for his memorial, Amy turns to Chris, his former best friend, to help unravel the mystery. Could Richard still be alive and in need of their help?
Richard’s manuscript tells of two abandoned children in wartime Britain, instructed by a shadowy Postmaster to deliver letters to ghosts and release them from their torment. As Chris and Amy delve into the text, they identify parallels between fiction and reality; clues to a trail that leads across the country and – they hope – to Richard.
But they are not the only interested party. A mysterious society is following them, their motives unclear. Can Chris and Amy unlock the secrets of Dead Letters, or will more sinister forces get there first?
Dead Letters is the captivating second novel by P.J. Murphy, author of Troubleshot.
P.J. Murphy writes novels that introduce unusual and humorous twists to classic genres. If you pick up one of his books, you’re in for an interesting read that never loses its sense of fun. As a writer, P.J. tries to stick to the adage ‘write what you know’, although with the addition, ‘just make sure you exaggerate and distort it beyond all recognition’. He is planning to write a novel about taking a road trip with a parrot. He has never owned a parrot.
I am excited to have Laury A Egan here today, sharing her thoughts about whatever she wants. 🙂
Thank you very much for featuring The Black Leopard’s Kiss & The Writer Remembers! Here are my interview questions:
1. What was the inspiration for writing this very unusual work?
To be honest, I haven’t a clue! The best I can say is that the beginning of the first novella (there are two, both linked, with the same main character) was strongly influenced by Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, in that it starts in a slow, introspective manner. After that, the plot picks up speed and begins a series of twists and turns, employing an Orlando-esque quality and magical realism. One of my main interests was telling a story about an older woman who is dealing with some physical infirmities and looking back on her life and investigating its mysteries.
2. Can you explain what you mean by magical realism and how did you use it?
This work is about an author, Sidonie Ross, who is depicted at age 64, 70, and at earlier ages as she tries to uncover memories and to look at her life as a narrative. In the book, I’ve intertwined the real, the half-remembered, and the forgotten and blended them together using a magical style. This is a difficult book to describe or categorize, but the reader is in for a dizzying ride.
3. How does this work compare to the other thirteen novels and story collection you’ve written and published?
Fog and Other Stories contained early short fiction and allowed me to experiment and try different styles, create a wide range of characters, and find the genres in which I was comfortable. Unfortunately—or fortunately—I discovered that my tastes were eclectic, from psychological suspense to coming-of-age to comedy to literary, as in this book. Of all of my writing, The Black Leopard’s Kiss & The Writer Remembers is my most creative and unusual. I’m really pleased to have this one published!
4. The author in this book writes from a room within her home. Do you?
Yes. Although my office is in the same quadrant of my house as Sidonie’s office, her house is based on my childhood home, which is only a few miles from my present residence. In both cases, there were woods visible through the right window, and the ocean was on the far side of the building (better to avoid distractions). I work every day, almost all day.
5. Do you have other obligations? Family or career?
Other than a prolific number of doctor’s appointments? As for job demands, I’ve retired from my career as a book designer (Princeton University Press and 20 other publishers) and as a freelance live opera/theater photographer, but I still hold fine arts photography critiques every two months. When my publishers allow, I create photographic illustrations and do the typography for covers, such as I did for this book. My life’s philosophy—which might also be that of Sidonie Ross—is best summed up by a line from Andrew Carnegie: “My heart is in my work.” Since I attended Carnegie Mellon University, I took this sentiment very seriously from an early age. My mother, who was a brilliant artist, did, too, and my father, who was a building contractor, was imaginative in his fashion. I have no family still alive, except for a few far-flung cousins, so my life is mostly free of distractions.
6. Since The Black Leopard’s Kiss & The Writer Remembers features time regressions, what period of your life would you like to revisit?
My early forties. I had just begun my freelance design and photography business, had fallen in love with opera and was attending the Met Opera regularly, with some magical evenings spent photographing live opera productions such as Philip Glass’ premiere of The Voyage at the Met. I was meeting so many fascinating people and, at the same time, was starting my first novel, which I’ve recently unearthed and am attempting to revise (a very heavy lift). Everything was exciting; doors were opening into new worlds I had only previously glimpsed. And, yes, there was a romance!
Thank you so much for visiting and sharing your thoughts, Laury. Good luck with the tour.
Book Details:
Book Title: The Black Leopard’s Kiss & The Writer Remembers by Laury A. Egan Category: Adult Fiction (18+), 306 pages Genre: Literary, with magical realism Publisher: Spectrum Books Release Date: Dec 16, 2023 Content Rating: PG + M. Language is moderate; scenes of attempted incest and lesbian encounter.
I got lost in To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee, so I had to check out Go Set A Watchman. Go Set A Watchman didn’t hit me as hard as To Kill A Mockingbird, but I loved learning what happened to Jean Louis Finch, since she was the star of the show.
She returns home, after living in New York City, seeing Maycomb, Alabama in a new light. Sure, she has gotten older, but she has been away from the small town life. She had left behind her brother, father, and Henry, who patiently waited for her to return, believing they would be wed.
For thus hath the Lord said unto me, Go, set a watchman, let him declare what he seeth.
Jean Louis has done a lot of growing up, but her return gives her many life lessons, showing her that things are not always as they appear to be. Her father has never tried to influence her, and he does not try now. She will become her own person.
Every man’s island, Jean Louise, every man’s watchman, is his conscience. There is no such thing as a collective conscious.
Go Set A Watchman by Harper Lee did not hit me as hard as To Kill A Mockingbird, but I found so many words of wisdom in the pages, that I found myself nodding my head and thinking, well said. I feel both books should be must reads in English and History classes, for all high schools, North, South, East, and West.
4 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
From Harper Lee comes a landmark new novel set two decades after her beloved Pulitzer Prize-winning masterpiece, To Kill a Mockingbird. Maycomb, Alabama. Twenty-six-year-old Jean Louise Finch—”Scout”—returns home from New York City to visit her aging father, Atticus. Set against the backdrop of the civil rights tensions and political turmoil that were transforming the South, Jean Louise’s homecoming turns bittersweet when she learns disturbing truths about her close-knit family, the town and the people dearest to her. Memories from her childhood flood back, and her values and assumptions are thrown into doubt. Featuring many of the iconic characters from To Kill a Mockingbird, Go Set a Watchman perfectly captures a young woman, and a world, in a painful yet necessary transition out of the illusions of the past—a journey that can be guided only by one’s conscience. Written in the mid-1950s, Go Set a Watchman imparts a fuller, richer understanding and appreciation of Harper Lee. Here is an unforgettable novel of wisdom, humanity, passion, humor and effortless precision—a profoundly affecting work of art that is both wonderfully evocative of another era and relevant to our own times. It not only confirms the enduring brilliance of To Kill a Mockingbird, but also serves as its essential companion, adding depth, context and new meaning to an American classic.
Genre: Classics, Contemporary and Literary Fiction, Fiction, Historical Fiction
288 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 14, 2015
ABOUT HARPER LEE
Harper Lee, known as Nelle, was born in the Alabama town of Monroeville, the youngest of four children of Amasa Coleman Lee and Frances Cunningham Finch Lee. Her father, a former newspaper editor and proprietor, was a lawyer who served on the state legislature from 1926 to 1938. As a child, Lee was a tomboy and a precocious reader, and enjoyed the friendship of her schoolmate and neighbor, the young Truman Capote.
After graduating from high school in Monroeville, Lee enrolled at the all-female Huntingdon College in Montgomery (1944-45), and then pursued a law degree at the University of Alabama (1945-50), pledging the Chi Omega sorority. While there, she wrote for several student publications and spent a year as editor of the campus humor magazine, “Ramma-Jamma”. Though she did not complete the law degree, she studied for a summer in Oxford, England, before moving to New York in 1950, where she worked as a reservation clerk with Eastern Air Lines and BOAC.
Lee continued as a reservation clerk until the late 50s, when she devoted herself to writing. She lived a frugal life, traveling between her cold-water-only apartment in New York to her family home in Alabama to care for her father.
Having written several long stories, Harper Lee located an agent in November 1956. The following month at the East 50th townhouse of her friends Michael Brown and Joy Williams Brown, she received a gift of a year’s wages with a note: “You have one year off from your job to write whatever you please. Merry Christmas.”
Within a year, she had a first draft. Working with J. B. Lippincott & Co. editor Tay Hohoff, she completed To Kill a Mockingbird in the summer of 1959. Published July 11, 1960, the novel was an immediate bestseller and won great critical acclaim, including the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1961. It remains a bestseller with more than 30 million copies in print. In 1999, it was voted “Best Novel of the Century” in a poll by the Library .
