Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those
neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread. If you are anything
like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in
your stacks.
Forty year old Preston Peterson, pudgy, myopic and socially inept, knows the terror of being bullied. From his earliest childhood memory, he has faced ridicule, name calling, harassment and beatings. Fear ruled his life, possessed him, controlled his every encounter with others. Now, he has killed. Now, rage rules his life. Digging out his despised High School year book, Preston uses computer aged photographs to find and kill look-alikes of his persecutors. The time has come for those who bullied him to pay the ultimate price for their torture. Preston is getting even and everyone is a target. But with a panicked city and Lieutenant Gregg Mann’s task force looking for him, Preston should have remembered the Chinese proverb, “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig TWO GRAVES.”
I added Two Graves: A Kesle City Homicide Novel by D A Graystone to my TBR on 12.1.12. I love a good mystery, suspense, thriller. I was very click happy in 2012, being pretty new to blogging. It looks good. I like the cover. So, I do hope to get to it sometime. 🙂
A
modern and beautiful Frankenstein’s Monster fights for the right to carve her
own destiny in the human world of New York City.
A
talented young dancer tired of witnessing violent crimes against women go
unpunished and takes matters into her own hands.
A
young woman tries to escape her past in the anonymity of New York but finds out
that she cannot escape the scars on her soul, which drives her to shocking acts
of violence.
Watch
for Forging Monsters Part 2, coming soon.
EXCERPT
“This body
looks as if it has been chewed on–the edges of the throat lacerations are
ragged and similar to a previous body that was brought in bearing the same type
of teeth marks. A computer 3D model of the wounds on the second body, in front
of me, determined the wounds to be made by the teeth of a large canine.
However, The DNA test of the saliva left behind has been inconclusive.”
Dr. Violetta
paused the tape recorder. “I have never seen anything like it,” she said to her
assistant Andrew. “Take a look at the slide I have on the microscope. You’ll
see.”
Andrew studied
the cells on the microscope and wrote some notes in his typical scrawl that
only he could read while Dr. Violetta started recording again.
“Cells
separated from a human body die in moments. These cells scraped from the saliva
on this body’s wounds have continued to divide and multiply, indicating that
the cells are still living. Also, the DNA strands continually rearrange their
structure without any outside influence. This is why it has proved impossible
to conclusively determine which type of animal caused the damage to this body.”
She stopped the recorder.
“This has to be
kept out of the media,” she whispered, shaking her head in horrified disbelief.
“Where did
this one come from?” Andrew asked, looking up from the microscope.
“He was
found in Central Park.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Annie is the author of the Tales of Origen series and several
short stories. She lives in Kentucky with her husband and two fun-loving cats
who inspired the feline characters Dirtbag and Scumbucket. She has an adult
daughter who is also a writer, and a grandson. Her influences and favorite
writers include:
Frank Peretti
Mary Wollencroft Shelley
Apryl Baker
Dean Koontz
Alexandre Dumas
Linda Joyce
Mary Ramsey
Lance Sheridan poetry
She has lived in New York and Louisiana and loves Cajun cooking.
She has had several people tell her that she should open a restaurant, but she
loves writing too much to make time for it—running a restaurant is a TON of
work. She has an associate degree in Administrative Assistance, majoring in
writing, and business administration.
Chief of Police Jane Hardy plunges into the investigation of a house fire that claimed the life of a local woman as well as one of the firefighters. It’s clear the woman was murdered. But why? The unraveling of Jane’s personal life only makes the answers in the case more difficult to find.
Her son’s arrest.
Then Jane’s fifteen-year-old son is accused of a horrific crime, and she has to decide whether or not she can trust her ex, Reid, in the attempt to prove Will’s innocence—and whether she can trust Reid with her heart.
Her stolen memories.
Three days of Jane’s past are missing from her memory, and that’s not all that has been stolen from her. As she works to find the woman’s murderer and clear her son’s name, finding out what happened in those three days could change everything. It all started with one little lie. But the gripping truth is finally coming out.
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery, Suspense, Thriller Published by: Thomas Nelson Publication Date: April 6th 2021 Number of Pages: 352 ISBN: 0785228543 (ISBN13: 9780785228547) Series:Pelican Harbor #3 || These books are Stand Alone Mysteries but are better if read as a series! Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | ChristianBook.com | Goodreads
Read an excerpt:
“I know what you did.”
The muffled voice on her phone raised the hair on the back of Gail Briscoe’s head, and she swiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Look, I’ve reported these calls. Don’t call me again.”
She ended the call with a hard finger punch on the screen and stepped onto her front porch. The late-May Alabama air wrapped her in a blanket of heat and humidity, and she couldn’t wait to wash it off. She should have left the light on before she went for her predawn run. The darkness pressing against her isolated home sent a shudder down her back, and she fumbled her way inside. Welcome light flooded the entry, and she locked the door and the dead bolt with a decisive click that lifted her confidence.
She stared at the number on the now-silent phone. The drugstore again. Though there weren’t many pay phones around anymore, the old soda shop and drugstore still boasted a heavy black phone installed back in the sixties. The caller always used it, and so far, no one had seen who was making the calls. The pay phone was located off an alley behind the store by a Dumpster so it was out of sight.
The guy’s accusation was getting old. Counting today, this made seven calls with the same message. Could he possibly know about the investigation? She rejected the thought before it had a chance to grow. It wasn’t public knowledge, and it would be over soon. She clenched her hands and chewed on her bottom lip. She had to be vindicated.
But who could it be, and what did he want?
Leaving a trail of sweaty yoga shorts and a tee behind her, she marched to the bathroom and turned the spray to lukewarm before she stepped into the shower. The temperature shocked her overheated skin in a pleasant way, and within moments she was cooled down. She increased the temperature a bit and let the water sluice over her hair.
As she washed, she watched several long strands of brown hair swirl down the drain as she considered the caller’s accusation. The police had promised to put a wiretap on her phone, but so far the guy hadn’t stayed on the phone long enough for a trace to work. And it was Gail’s own fault. She should have talked with him more to string out the time.
She dried off and wrapped her hair in a turban, then pulled on capris and a top. Her phone vibrated again. She snatched it up and glanced at the screen. Augusta Richards.
“I got another call, Detective. Same phone at the drugstore. Could you set up a camera there?”
“I hope I’m not calling too early, and I don’t think that’s necessary. The owner just told me that old pay phone is being removed later today. Maybe that will deter the guy. It’s the only pay phone in town. He’ll have to use something else if he calls again.”
“He could get a burner phone.”
“He might,” the detective admitted. “What did he say?”
“The same thing—‘I know what you did.’”
“Do you have any idea what it means?”
Gail flicked her gaze away to look out the window, where the first colors of the sunrise limned the trees. “Not a clue.”
“Make sure you lock your doors and windows. You’re all alone out there.”
“Already locked. Thanks, Detective.” Gail ended the call.
Ever since Nicole Pearson’s body had been found a couple of months ago, no one needed to remind Gail she lived down a dirt road with no next-door neighbors. No one wanted to buy the neighboring place after such a lurid death, so the area remained secluded other than a couple of houses about a mile away and out closer to the main road.
She stood back from the window. It was still too dark to see. Was someone out there?
Pull back the reins on your imagination. But once the shudders started, they wouldn’t stop. Her hands shaking, she left her bedroom and went to pour herself a cup of coffee with a generous splash of half-and-half from the fridge. She had a stack of lab orders to process, and she couldn’t let her nerves derail her work.
The cups rattled as she snatched one from the cupboard. The coffee sloshed over the rim when she poured it, then she took a big gulp of coffee. It burned all the way down her throat, and tears stung her eyes as she sputtered. The heat settled her though, and she checked the locks again before she headed to her home office with her coffee.
No one could see in this tiny cubicle with no window, but she rubbed the back of her neck and shivered. She’d work for an hour, then go into the lab. The familiar ranges and numbers comforted her. She sipped her coffee and began to plow through the stack of papers. Her eyes kept getting heavy. Weird. Normally she woke raring to go every morning.
Maybe she needed more coffee. She stretched out her neck and back and picked up the empty coffee cup.
Gail touched the doorknob and cried out. She stuck her first two fingers in her mouth. What on earth?
The door radiated heat. She took a step back as she tried to puzzle out what was happening, but her brain couldn’t process it at first. Then tendrils of smoke oozed from under the door in a deadly fog.
Fire. The house was on fire.
She spun back toward the desk, but there was nothing she could use to protect herself. There was no way of egress except through that door.
If she wanted to escape, she’d have to face the inferno on the other side.
She snatched a throw blanket from the chair and threw it over her head, then ran for the door before she lost her courage. When she yanked it open, a wall of flames greeted her, but she spied a pathway down the hall to her bedroom. Ducking her head, she screamed out a war cry and plowed through the flames.
In moments she was in the hall where the smoke wasn’t so thick. She pulled in a deep breath as she ran for her bedroom. She felt the cool air as soon as she stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Too late she realized the window was open, and a figure stepped from the closet.
Something hard came down on her head, and darkness descended.
***
Excerpt from Three Missing Days by Colleen Coble. Copyright 2021 by Thomas Nelson. Reproduced with permission from Thomas Nelson. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Colleen Coble is a USA TODAY bestselling author and RITA finalist best known for her coastal romantic suspense novels, including The Inn at Ocean’s Edge, Twilight at Blueberry Barrens, and the Lavender Tides, Sunset Cove, Hope Beach, and Rock Harbor series.
Visit these 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 Colleen Coble and Thomas Nelson. ONE (1) winner will receive ONE (1) physical set of the first three books in the Pelican Harbor series. (U.S. addresses only). The giveaway begins on April 5, 2021 and runs through May 2, 2021. Void where prohibited.
Finding themselves in a slave community hidden within the Great
Dismal Swamp, Will Rees and his wife Lydia get caught up in a dangerous
murder case where no one trusts them.
September 1800, Maine. Will Rees is beseeched by Tobias, an
old friend abducted by slave catchers years before, to travel south to
Virginia to help transport his pregnant wife, Ruth, back north. Though
he’s reluctant, Will’s wife Lydia convinces him to go . . . on the
condition she accompanies them.
Upon arriving in a small community of absconded slaves hiding within
the Great Dismal Swamp, Will and Lydia are met with distrust. Tensions
are high and a fight breaks out between Tobias and Scipio, a philanderer
with a bounty on his head known for conning men out of money. The
following day Scipio is found dead – shot in the back.
Stuck within the hostile Great Dismal and with slave catchers on the
prowl, Will and Lydia find themselves caught up in their most dangerous
case yet.
Kuhns’ vivid portrayal of the community that developed inside the
swamp captures a group of naturally cunning and vigilant people who
provided a family for one another when most had none. . . the story
shines for its historical backbone and atmospheric details.
~ Booklist
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery, Thriller Published by: Severn House Publishers Publication Date: January 5th 2021 Number of Pages: 224 ISBN: 0727890239 (ISBN13: 9780727890238) Series: Will Rees Mysteries #8 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Author Bio:
Eleanor is the 2011 winner of the Minotaur Books/Mystery Writers of
America First Crime novel winner. After working as a librarian, she
transitioned to a full time writer. This is number eight in the Will
Rees Mystery series.
WOW! I was expecting a great read when I opened Stolen Daughters by Carolyn Arnold, but I got more than I expected. I find that amazing, because I have been reading her work for some time now and loving it, so for her to write a novel that has me saying to myself (and you), “WOW, this is the perfect story for me.”, it hits all the spots.
Amanda Steele reminds me of Clarisse on the new TV show. I guess that shows how I feel about Carolyn Arnold’s work. It is suitable for the visual media, whether on TV or the movies. Who knows?
The romance is there, but not, and that is fine with me, because I was so involved with the characters I was reading about, I never really missed Logan. He did drop in for a minute or two here and there, just enough to let us know he is waiting….
I love that Amanda doesn’t jump into a relationship with Logan too quickly. I kinda like the one they have right now, taking their time to let it develop naturally, if that is possible in the world they live in. Danger is all around, and they never know when it will find them.
Carolyn Arnold does police procedurals proud. She gives the investigative details in a clear, concise manner, not slowing down the story in any way.
We have a lot of things going on in Stolen Daughters. Logan is trying to hook up with Amanda, but she is too busy trying to help her mother, find out who killed the girl in the fire and deal with her own personal issues.
I love when I can have empathy for the villain, but that does not excuse his actions. He knows right from wrong, he just loves doing wrong. The past is the past and I feel no one can use that for an excuse for their behavior, and when I remember his victims, well…you’ll have to read the book and then I think you may know what I feel.
I love when a fictional novel can draw me so far into it that I, at times, forget I am reading fiction. I had a bunch of notes, but after rereading the blurb, I had to wing it. I didn’t want to give anything away. I want you to experience it for yourself. It is well worth it.
I ignored everything going on around me and stayed up late to finish Stolen Daughters, so to say it was unputdownable is not doing it justice. When IT hits the road, Amanda Steele puts the pedal to the metal, no looking back and no second guessing.
I voluntarily reviewed and ARC of Stolen Daughters by Carolyn Arnold.
5 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
The girl looked so peaceful, she could have been asleep. Except her eyes were open, blankly reflecting the flickering flames spreading towards her…
When firefighters discover the body of a teenage girl at an abandoned house, Detective Amanda Steele hurries to the scene. Dumfries, Virginia is a small town, yet no one seems to have any idea who the dead girl is until Amanda finds a dragonfly pin with the name Crystal engraved on it.
Working tirelessly, Amanda traces the pin to Crystal Foster, a thirteen-year-old who disappeared three years ago from her wealthy parents’ home. Breaking the news to the distraught parents won’t be easy, but the loss of her own daughter still haunts Amanda, and she knows this will bring them closure. But when Amanda goes to see the Fosters, they do not recognize the girl. She isn’t Crystal.
Before Amanda can react to this new development, she gets an urgent call. A fire has consumed another vacant house, and the remains of two more girls have been found. Who are these girls, and why are they being picked off? Amanda must stop this killer before the pattern continues, and the death toll climbs.
When Amanda receives a taunting note from the killer, she realizes that she holds the missing piece of this puzzle. The victims are connected to Amanda’s past, to a case she can never forget, and which almost claimed her life. As she follows the clues to their deadly conclusion, can she save more innocent lives… even if it risks her own?
An unputdownable, pulse-pounding mystery. Fans of Rachel Caine, Lisa Regan and Robert Dugoni will be gripped.
CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international bestselling and award-winning
author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She
has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon
Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has
written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers
everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action
adventures.
Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised
by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading
her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW
ENFORCEMENT™.
Carolyn was born in a small town and
enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big
city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive
imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch
the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and
empower.
She currently lives just west of Toronto
with her husband and beagle and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada
and Sisters in Crime.
I want to start out by saying how wonderful it was to be surprised! I love book surprises and M O Mack delivered. She’s Got The Money started out as what I thought would be a cozy mystery, then developed into a deeper suspenseful thriller.
Charge…I picture him as the Marlboro Man, except a little more ruggedly handsome. He is a killer, the head of Suite #45, a group of assassins.
An innocent young woman on the run, Emily owes them one million dollars for saving her from her old life. She ends up working for them to pay back the money.
It made me think of Charlie’s Angels and Bond, James Bond.
For the first half of the book, I was pretty lackadaisical. I was enjoying it. It was good and an easy read. Then…it takes a twist and has me questioning everything, my mind trying to unravel the questions this twist created. What is true? Who to trust?
The characters are more complex, as is the entire situation with Emily, than I initially thought. I love that M O Mack was able to catch me so offguard. It kept getting more dangerous. I read faster. I became more invested in the characters and what was going to happen to them.
Even though I didn’t read the first book…yet (which was free when I wrote this review), I didn’t feel like it made this book any less enjoyable. Laughter, humor, danger…and a little bit of romance makes for an intriguing series that left me wanting more.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of She’s Got The Money by M O Mack.
4 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
From M.O. Mack comes another fast-paced standalone thriller, SHE’S GOT THE MONEY.
TO SAVE THE HIT MAN SHE SWORE TO WALK AWAY FROM, SHE’LL HAVE TO BREAK ALL THE RULES. INCLUDING HIS RULES.
When Emily escaped her old life, she never imagined ending up
here: running the front office for a crew of dangerous hit men. Even
worse, now she owes them money for protecting her from her abusive
husband.
This new situation is ten times deadlier than the life
she fled, but every attempt to leave lands her deeper into their world.
Especially now that her boss has been taken by some very bad people.
And they want money. A lot of it.
She could walk away. She should walk away. Because to save him means
she’ll have to do the unthinkable. And then there’s no turning back.
ABOUT M O MACK
Obviously, M.O. Mack is a cover. Don’t bother looking for the author’s true identity. He/she must remain secret due to the sensitive information written in his/her stories…
Okay, most of all that is total rubbish! M.O. is a full-time author from the great state of Arizona, who loves making stuff up and hates a slow story. The faster the better! Most days, M.O. tries to avoid the news (too violent) so it doesn’t interfere with writing funny, but quasi-violent stories.
Israel: A drone-based terrorist attack kills dozens on a sun-splashed beach in Caesarea.
Washington: America awakens to the shattering news that Vice President Stephanie Davenport has died of an apparent heart attack.
That same morning, a chance encounter on the Washington Metro results
in international private investigator Robert Brixton thwarting an
attempted terrorist bombing. Brixton has no reason to suspect that the
three incidents have anything in common, until he’s contacted by Kendra
Rendine, the Secret Service agent who headed up the vice president’s
security detail. Rendine is convinced the vice president was murdered
and needs Brixton’s investigative expertise to find out why.
In Israel, meanwhile, legendary anti-terrorist fighter Lia Ganz
launches her own crusade against the perpetrators of that attack which
nearly claimed the lives of her and granddaughter. Ganz’s trail will
ultimately take her to Washington where she joins forces with Brixton to
uncover an impossible link between the deadly attack on Caesarea and
the attempted Metro bombing, as well as the death of the vice president.
The connection lies in the highest corridors of power in Washington
where a deadly plot with unimaginable consequences has been hatched.
With the clock ticking toward doomsday, Brixton and Ganz race against
time to save millions of American lives who will otherwise become
collateral damage to a conspiracy destined to change the United States
forever.
Praise :
“Jon Land is one of the best thriller writers in the business, and
the Capital Crimes series is in superb and skilled hands with him.
Nobody does pacing better than Land, and MURDER ON THE METRO starts with a bang and keeps on going at breakneck speed. If you haven’t read this excellent series, start with Land’s MURDER ON THE METRO.” —Lisa Scottoline, #1 New York Times bestselling author
Book Details:
Genre: Thriller Published by: Forge Books Publication Date: February 16th 2021 Number of Pages: 288 ISBN: 1250238870 (ISBN13: 9781250238870) Series: A Capital Crimes Novel, #32 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Tour Info:
Book Formats: Print, Netgalley Hosting Options: Review, Interview, Guest Post, Showcase Giveaway: There will be a PICT Giveaway More: According to the author Murder on the Metro does not
include: Excessive Strong Language, Graphic Violence, Explicit Sexual
Scenes, Rape, or other trigger situations. It does contain what some may
consider to be: Steamy Clean (mild language, mild sexual tension and
innuendo, no sex scenes) content. PICT staff have not read this book,
however and cannot give additional information.
Read an excerpt:
CHAPTER 1
Washington, DC; the next morning
Not again . . .
That was Robert Brixton’s first thought when his gaze locked on the
woman seated across from him in the Washington Metro car. He was riding
into the city amid the clutter of morning commuters from the apartment
in Arlington, Virginia where he now lived alone, his girlfriend Flo
Combes having returned to New York.
Former girlfriend, Brixton corrected in his mind. And Flo’s return to
New York, where she’d opened her first clothing boutique, looked very
much like it was for good this time.
Which brought his attention back to the woman wearing a hijab and
bearing a strong resemblance to another Muslim woman who’d been haunting
his sleep for five years now, since she’d detonated a suicide bomb
inside a crowded DC restaurant, killing Brixton’s daughter Janet and
eleven other victims that day. He’d seen it coming, felt it anyway, as
if someone had dragged the head of a pin up his spine. He hadn’t been a
cop for years at that point, having taken his skills into the private
sector, but his instincts remained unchanged, always serving him well
and almost always being proven right.
But today he wanted to be wrong, wanted badly to be wrong. Because if
his instincts were correct, tragedy was about to repeat itself with him
bearing witness yet again, relocated from a bustling café to a crowded
Metro car.
The woman wearing the hijab turned enough to meet his gaze, Brixton
unable to jerk his eyes away in time and forcing the kind of smile
strangers cast each other. The woman didn’t return it, just turned her
focus back forward, her expression empty as if bled of emotion. In
Brixton’s experience, she resembled a criminal who found strange solace
in the notion of being caught after tiring of the chase. That was the
suspicious side of his nature. If not for a long career covering various
aspects of law enforcement, including a private investigator with
strong international ties, Brixton would likely have seen her as the
other passengers in the Metro car did: A quiet woman with big soft eyes
just hoping to blend in with the scenery and not attract any attention
to herself.
Without reading material of any kind, a cell phone in her grasp, or
ear buds dangling. Brixton gazed about; as far as he could tell, she was
the only passenger in sight, besides him, not otherwise occupied to
pass the time. So in striving not to stand out, the young woman had
achieved the opposite.
He studied her closer, determining that the woman didn’t look tired,
so much as content. And, beneath her blank features, Brixton sensed
something taut and resigned, a spring slowly uncoiling. Something,
though, had changed in her expression since the moment their eyes had
met. She was fidgeting in her seat now, seeking comfort that clearly
eluded her.
Just as another suicide bomber had five years ago
If he didn’t know better, he would’ve fully believed he was back in
that DC restaurant again, granted a second chance to save his daughter
after he’d failed so horribly the first time.
***
Five years ago
What world are you in? Janet had asked a clearly distracted Brixton, then consumed by the nagging feeling dragged up his spine.
Let’s go.
Daddy, I haven’t finished!
Janet always called him “Daddy.” Much had been lost to memory from
that day, forcibly put aside, but not that or the moments that followed.
It had been the last time she’d ever called him that and Brixton had
fought to preserve the recording that existed only in his mind
resolvedly ever since. Whenever it faded, he fought to get it back,
treating Janet’s final address of him like a voicemail machine message
from a lost loved one forever saved on his phone.
Come on.
Is something wrong?
We’re leaving.
Brixton had headed to the door, believing his daughter was right
behind him. He realized she wasn’t only when he was through it, turning
back toward the table to see Janet facing the Muslim woman wearing the
hijab who was chanting in Arabic.
Janet!
He’d started to storm back inside to get her when the explosion
shattered the placid stillness of the day, an ear-splitting blast that
hit him like a Category Five wind gust to the chest and sent him
sprawling to the sidewalk. His head ping-ponged off the concrete,
threatening his grip on consciousness. Parts of a splintered table came
flying in his direction and he threw his arms over his face to shield it
from wooden shards and other debris that caked the air, cataloguing
them as they soared over him in absurd counterpoint. Plates, glasses,
skin, limbs, eyeglasses, knives, forks, beer mugs, chair legs and arms,
calamari, boneless ribs, pizza slices, a toy gorilla that had been held
by a child a table two removed from where he’d been sitting with Janet,
and empty carafes of wine with their contents seeming to trail behind
them like vapor trails.
The surreal nature of that moment made Brixton think he might be
sleeping, all this no more than the product of an airy dream to be lost
to memory by the time woke. He remembered lying on the sidewalk, willing
himself to wake up, to rouse from this nightmare-fueled stupor. The
worst moment of his life followed the realization that he wasn’t asleep
and an imponderable wave of grief washed over him, stealing his next
breath and making him wonder if he even wanted to bother trying for
another.
Brixton had stumbled to his feet before what moments earlier had been
a bustling café filled with happy people. Now, bodies were everywhere,
some piled on top of others, blood covering everything and everyone. He
touched the side of his face and pulled bloody fingers away from the
wound. He looked back into the café in search of his daughter but saw
only a tangle of limbs and clothing where they’d been sitting.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered, his senses sharpening. “Janet!”
Washington’s Twenty-third Street had been crammed with pedestrians at
the time of the blast, joined now by people pouring out of office
buildings and other restaurants nearby, within eye or earshot of the
dual blasts. Brixton’s attempts to get closer to the carnage, holding
out hope Janet might still be alive, were thwarted at every turn by
throngs fleeing in panic in an endless wave.
“My daughter! My daughter!” he kept crying out, as if that might make the crowd yield and the chaos recede.
***
It wasn’t until Brixton reached the hospital that he learned Janet
hadn’t made it out, had been declared one of the missing. Having served
as an agent for a private security agency out-sourced to the State
Department at the time, he knew all too well that missing meant dead. He
had another daughter, Janet’s older sister, who’d given him a beautiful
grandson he loved dearly, but that was hardly enough to make up for the
loss of Janet. And the guilt over not having dragged her out with him
when she’d resisted leaving had haunted him to this very moment, when
instinct told him many on this crowded subway car might well be about to
join her.
Thanks to another woman wearing a hijab, but it wasn’t just that.
Brixton had crossed paths with an untold number of Arab women in the
five years since Janet’s death, and not one before today had ever
elicited in him the feeling he had now. She might’ve been a twin of the
bomber who’d taken his daughter from him, about whom Brixton could
recall only one thing:
Her eyes.
This woman had the very same shifting look, trying so hard to appear
casual that it seemed she was wearing a costume, sticking out to him as
much as a kid on Halloween. Brixton spun his gaze back in her direction,
prepared to measure off the distance between them and how he might
cover it before she could trigger her explosives.
But the young woman was gone.
Brixton looked down the center aisle cluttered with commuters
clutching poles or dangling hand-hold straps. He spotted the young woman
in the hijab an instant before she cocked her gaze briefly back in his
direction, a spark of clear recognition flashing when their eyes met
this time.
She knows I made her, Brixton thought, heavy with fear as he climbed to his feet.
He started after her, heart hammering in his chest, the sensation he
was feeling in that dreadful moment all too familiar. He couldn’t help
but catalogue the people he passed in the woman’s wake, many of whom
were either his late daughter’s age or younger. Smiling, gabbing away on
their phones, reading a book, or lost between their earbuds without any
knowledge of how horribly their lives might very well be about to
change. If he needed any further motivation to keep moving and stop the
potential suicide bomber though any means necessary, that was it. Doubt
vanished, Brixton trusting his instincts in a way he hadn’t that tragic
day five years ago when he was still a de facto agent for the US
government.
Janet . . .
In Brixton’s mind, this was no longer a Metro car, but the same
restaurant where a suicide bomber had taken a dozen lives and wounded
dozens more. And he found himself faced with the chance to do today what
he hadn’t done five years ago.
Stop!
Had Brixton barked that command out loud, or merely formed the
thought in his head. Other passengers were staring at him now, his surge
up the aisle disturbing the meager comfort of their morning routine.
Ahead of him, the woman wearing the hijab had picked up her pace,
Brixton spotting her dip a hand beneath a jacket that seemed much too
heavy for the unseasonably mild Washington, DC spring. His experience
with the State Department working for the shadowy SITQUAL group, along
with that as a cop, told him she was likely reaching for the pull cord
that would detonate the suicide vest concealed under bulky sweatshirt
and jacket.
If you could relive the day of your daughter’s death, what would you do?
I’d shoot the bitch before she had the chance to yank that cord,
Brixton thought, drawing his Sig Sauer P-226 nine-millimeter pistol. It
had survived his tenure with SITQUAL as his weapon of choice, well
balanced and deadly accurate.
He could feel the crowd around him recoiling, pulling back, when they
saw the pistol steadied in his hand. Several gasped. A woman cried out.
A kid dropped his cell phone into Brixton’s path and he accidentally
kicked it aside.
“Stop!”
Shouted out loud for sure this time, the dim echo bouncing off the
Metro car’s walls as it wound in thunderous fashion through the tube.
The young woman in the hijab was almost to the rear door separating this
car from the next. Brixton was close enough to hear the whoooooshhh as
she engaged the door, breaking the rule that prohibited passengers from
such car-hopping.
“Stop!”
She turned her gaze back toward him as he raised his pistol, ready to
take the shot he hadn’t taken five years ago. Passengers cried out and
shrank from his path. The door hissed closed, the young woman regarding
him vacantly through the safety glass as she stretched hand out blindly
to activate the door accessing the next car back.
And that’s when she stumbled. Brixton was well aware of the problems
encountered by this new 7000 series of Metro railcars after federal
safety officials raised repeated concerns about a potential safety risk
involving the barriers between cars that were designed to prevent blind
and visually impaired people from inadvertently walking off the platform
and falling through the gap. The issue initially was raised by
disability rights advocates, who argued the rubber barriers were spaced
too far apart, leaving enough room for a small person to slip through.
The young woman wearing the hijab was small. And she started to slip through.
Brixton watched her drop from sight an instant before an all-too
familiar flash created a star burst before him. He felt light, floating
as if there was nothing beneath his feet, because for a moment there
wasn’t. The piercing blast that buckled the Metro car door blew him
backward, the percussion lifting him up and then dropping him back down,
still in motion sliding across the floor amid a demolition derby of
commuters crashing into each other, as the train barreled along.
Separated now from its rear-most cars, what remained of the train
whipsawed through the tube with enough force to lift this car from the
rails and send it alternately slamming up against one side and then the
other.
Brixton maintained the presence of mind to realize his back and
shoulders had come to rest awkwardly against a seat, even as the squeal
of the brakes engaging grew into a deafening wail and his eyes locked on
the car door that to him looked as if someone had used a can opener to
carve a jagged fissure along the center of its buckled seam. The car
itself seemed to be swaying—left, right, and back again—but he couldn’t
be sure if that was real or the product of the concussion he may have
suffered from the blast wave or upon slamming up against the seat.
Unlike five years ago, Brixton had come to rest sitting up, staring
straight ahead at the back door of the Metro car currently held at an
awkwardly angled perch nearly sideways across the tracks. He realized
that through it all he’d somehow maintained grasp of his pistol, now
steadied at the twisted remnants of the Metro car door as if he expected
the young woman to reappear at any moment.
Janet . . .
A wave of euphoria washed over Brixton as, this time, he thought he’d
saved her, making the best of the do-over fate had somehow granted him.
The Metro car floor felt soft and cushiony, leaving him with the
dream-like sense he was drifting away toward the bright lights shining
down from the ceiling.
And then there was only darkness.
***
Excerpt from Murder on the Metro by Jon Land. Copyright 2021 by Jon Land. Reproduced with permission from Jon Land. All rights reserved.
JON LAND is the USA Today bestselling author of over fifty books,
including eleven in the critically acclaimed Texas Ranger Caitlin Strong
series, the most recent of which, Strong from the Heart, won the 2020
American Fiction Award for Best Thriller and the 2020 American Book Fest
Award for Best Mystery/Suspense Novel. Additionally, he has teamed up
with Heather Graham for a science fiction series that began with THE
RISING (winner of the 2017 International Book Award for best Sci-fi
Novel) and continues with BLOOD MOON. He has also written six books in
the Murder, She Wrote series of mysteries and has more recently taken
over Margaret Truman’s Capital Crimes series, beginning with Murder on
the Metro in February of 2021. A graduate of Brown University, he
received the 2019 Rhode Island Authors Legacy Award for his lifetime of
literary achievements. Land lives in Providence, Rhode Island.
YAY!. Another fabulous romantic suspense novel by Jane Blythe, Saving Ryder, Book I of the Saving Seals series did not disappoint. It starts out strong, keeping me rapidly ‘flipping pages’.
How Jane Blythe manages to come up with a different twist on an oft told tale, never ceases to amaze me.
What romance lover doesn’t love a hunkalicious Navy Seal and a damsel in distress?
Abby and Ryder already knew each other. In fact, he had broken it off with her twice. When his team of Navy Seals are sent to rescue a group of children who had been taken hostage, Ryder found Abby, who had been missing for fourteen months. It was a surprise to him, but she had never given up hope that she would be rescued.
She had suffered through months of torture and near starvation, but even she didn’t know how bad it really was. The truth comes out slowly…and, this time, Ryder will be by her side every step of the way. BUT, why was she taken?
Saving Ryder has all the goodies: a damsel in distress, some hunkalicious Navy Seals, mucho danger from a psychopath, and sweet romance.
Jane Blythe creates a fabulous story with lovable and loving characters. Every time I read a book like Saving Ryder, I have to remind myself how much her writing and creativity give me the suspense and thrills I am looking for. After all the books I have read of hers, she still manages to surprise me and leave me wanting more.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Saving Ryder by Jane Blythe.
4 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
He’s left her twice before why should she believe this time is any different?
Abigail McNamara feels like she always has to prove herself and could never live up to her family’s expectations. Her grandfather was a SEAL, her father was a SEAL, her brother is a SEAL, and, oh yeah, her brother’s ridiculously hotter than hot hunkalicious best friend is also a SEAL. She’s loved Ryder since she was twelve but he’s broken her heart twice already and she’s vowed she won’t ever trust him again.
Every guy knows the code you don’t have sex with your best friend’s little sister. If you do you don’t get caught. If you fall in love with her you don’t break her heart. And if you earn her trust back you don’t walk away. Unfortunately Ryder “Spider” Flynn did all that. When Abigail is abducted and help prisoner for fourteen months by a sadistic sociopath that changes everything. Now all bets are off but he has to keep her alive long enough to prove to her he deserves a third chance.
ABOUT JANE BLYTHE
Jane
has loved reading and writing since she can remember. She writes dark
and disturbing crime/mystery/suspense with some romance thrown in
because, well, who doesn’t love romance? She has one completed series,
Detective Parker Bell, and one new series, Count to Ten.
When she’s not writing Jane loves to
read, bake, go to the beach, ski, horse ride, and watch Disney movies.
She has a black belt in Taekwondo, and a 200+ collection of teddy bears.
She has the world’s two most sweet and pretty Dalmatians, Ivory and
Pearl. Oh, and she also enjoys spending time with family and friends!
Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those
neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread. If you are anything
like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in
your stacks.
Psychotherapist Kate Huntington helps other people cope with the horrible things that have happened to them, but she herself has led a charmed life… so far. Now a killer with a mysterious grudge against her and her closest friend, lawyer Rob Franklin, is threatening everyone and everything that she holds dear.
When the detective assigned to their case decides they are lovers and the attacks against them and their families are veiled attempts to rid themselves of their spouses, Kate and Rob are forced to investigate on their own. Can they identify their mutual enemy, before he or she kills again?
I added Multiple Motives by Kassandra Lamb to my TBR on 11.26.12. I love the fabulous cover and am always up for a good mystery. I’m sure I was click happy too.
We have a new character, Evelyn, Myrtle’s grandniece. She is living in Evelyn’s home, fixing it up and collecting the homeless kitties, like Evelyn used to do. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Glinda is a psychic, and quickly makes many friends since her move to the small town of Spookie, where danger stalks the characters, like the ghosts in the fog. Is the fog your friend or is it out to get you?
Frank is a murder mystery writer since his retirement from the police department, but he needs more. He becomes a consultant for the Chicago Police Department, and it’s a good thing he did. He will need those resources when his daughter, Laura’s, safety becomes an issue.
There is so much more going on than just the mystery about the buried treasure. Kathryn Meyer Griffith manages to have multiple mysteries going on so there is never a dull moment.
What a fabulous cast of characters. I love their uniqueness and quirkiness. Their willingness to go above and beyond for those around them, whether two footed or four footed.
Myrtle still remains my favorite. I love this crusty old bird, eccentric, gruff, but, as we pull away the layers, like peeling an onion, her heart is exposed. And it is a big one!
We’ve had adventures in Spookie, with kidnappers, serial killers, missing people, ghosts, witches and now, treasure hunters. It amazes me that Kathryn Meyer Griffith is able to create so many different and wonderful scenarios. I can hardly wait to find out the next one:
All Those Who Came Before…
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of What Lies Beneath by Kathryn Meyer Griffith.
4 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
The 5th Spookie Town Murder Mystery is finally out. Who wouldn’t want to find a chest of buried treasure, ancient gold coins and exquisitely priceless jewelry, on their land? A treasure a sailor dead for over seventy years once found in the shallow waters of a distant island and later buried, hid, the remnants of at the end of his tragic life. The townspeople of Spookie have been searching, fighting and killing each other over it, for decades and no one has ever unearthed it. Abigail, Frank, Myrtle and her psychic grandniece, Glinda, are on the hunt for the treasure…and they might just find it with Glinda’s and the dead sailor’s help. For Frank, ex-Chicago homicide detective, there’s also a new and dangerous case that brings him temporarily out of retirement and back to Chicago because it threatens his adopted daughter Laura’s safety at the art college she is attending. There are three missing college students, young women, one a close friend of Laura’s, and the Chicago police force is feverishly searching for them before their abductors kill them. Can Frank, with a little help from Glinda’s visions, and his old partner Sam Cato, locate the abducted girls in time and save their lives? All the rest of the quirky characters are also back again to share in the adventures, the mysteries, and the small town life of foggy Spookie. Come join them.
ABOUT KATHRYN MEYER GRIFFITH
Kathryn Meyer Griffith has been a writer
for over forty-nine years now and has had twenty-nine novels and thirteen short
stories published since 1984. She began her writing career as a paperback
horror author in 1984 with Leisure and Zebra Publishing, but has since moved on
to write paranormal horror, romantic historical time-travel, suspense, romance,
thrillers, and murder mysteries. Her horror novel The Last Vampire, and her
thriller Dinosaur Lake (now a best-selling five book series), were both Epic
eBook Awards Finalists in 2012 and 2014. Kathryn Meyer Griffith rdgriff@htc.net
NOVELS: Evil Stalks the Night, The Heart
of the Rose, Blood Forged, Vampire Blood, The Last Vampire (2012 Epic
eBook Awards Finalists in their Horror category), Witches, Witches II:
Apocalypse, Witches plus Witches II: Apocalypse, The Nameless One erotic
horror short story, The Calling, Scraps of Paper (1st Spookie Town
Murder Mystery), All Things Slip Away (2nd Spookie Town Murder Mystery),
Ghosts Beneath Us (3rd Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Witches Among Us
(4th Spookie Town Murder Mystery), What Lies Beneath the Graves (5th
Spookie Town Murder Mystery), All Those Who Came Before (6th Spookie
Town Murder Mystery); soon, a 7th, When the Fireflies
Retuned, out in December 2020, Egyptian Heart, Winter’s Journey, The Ice
Bridge, Don’t Look Back, Agnes, A Time of Demons and Angels, The Woman
in Crimson, Human No Longer, Four Spooky Short Stories Collection,
Forever and Always Romantic Novella, Night Carnival Short Story,
Dinosaur Lake (2014 Epic eBook Awards Finalists in their
Thriller/Adventure category), Dinosaur Lake II: Dinosaurs Arising,
Dinosaur Lake III: Infestation and Dinosaur Lake IV: Dinosaur Wars,
Dinosaur Lake V: Survivors, Memories of My Childhood, and a biographical
short story Christmas Magic 1959.
