The Case of the Copper King
A McKenzie Sisters Mystery Novel
MK MCCLINTOCK
Clever and feisty Cassandra McKenzie engages her newest assignment for the Pinkerton Agency with a knack for deception and a blade in her boot.
Smart, skilled, and unafraid to get her hands dirty, Cassandra grudgingly takes on a new assignment in one of Colorado’s busiest mining towns, where murder and theft draw her deep into a puzzle of lies, quarries, and forgery.
When the mysterious and handsome Quinn Morgan is enlisted to help solve the case, she reluctantly accepts his presence for an undercover scheme meant to draw out the crooks and retrieve the stolen money before they end up buried in a mountainside. Will their talents be enough to untangle truth from deceit before they run out of time?
Ride the rails to Durango at the turn of the century with Cassandra McKenzie, a woman cunning enough to solve the toughest cases in some of the Rockies most rugged and beautiful places.
Immerse yourself in The Case of the Copper King, a stand-alone novel in the delightfully entertaining McKenzie Sisters Mystery series.
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Book Trailer: https://youtu.b e/4lwSLgNRij0
Book Details
Genre: Historical Western Cozy Mystery
Release Date: June 22, 2021
Publisher: Trappers Peak Publishing
Page Count: 290pp
Content: PG – No sex; sweet kisses; some action and content normal to cozy murder mysteries
Author Bio
Award-winning author MK McClintock writes historical romantic fiction about courageous and honorable men and strong women who appreciate chivalry, like those in her Montana Gallagher, British Agent, and Crooked Creek series. Her stories of adventure, romance, and mystery sweep across the American West to the Victorian British Isles, with places and times between and beyond. She enjoys a quiet life in the northern Rocky Mountains.
MK invites you to join her on her writing journey at www.mkmcclintock.com, where you can learn more about her many books and series, explore reader extras, subscribe to receive the latest news, and browse the blog.
Praise for the Writings of MK McClintock
"An absolutely delightful mystery adventure that will keep you guessing till the last chapter! The Case of the Copper King is a must to read if you love western mysteries with a touch of romance and lots of twists and turns." —Nicole Laverdure, 5 Stars
"Ms. McClintock’s stories are adventurous and full of budding romance that transports you back to a simpler time where the outside world ceases to exist once you open one of her books." —My Life, One Story at a Time
"Ms. McClintock succeeds in masterfully weaving both genres meticulously together until mystery lovers are sold on romance and romance lovers love the mystery!"
—InD'Tale Magazine on Alaina Claiborne
"Wow! What a series. I guarantee you won't be able to stop reading. Well done MK!”
—Pioneer Hearts Reader on The Montana Gallagher series
"Journey to Hawk's Peak by MK McClintock is one of the most gripping and thrilling western novels that anyone will ever read. This is probably the best novel that I have yet read as a reviewer. It clicks on all cylinders—grammar, punctuation, plot, characterization, everything. This novel is a serious page-turner, and for fans of western fiction, it is a must-read." —Readers' Favorite
"This book was perfectly-paced with mystery, romance, adventure, and so much more. I am definitely recommending that everyone who loves historical fiction in general read this book. I cannot wait to start reading the next book in this series."
—Dreams Come True Through Reading on Blackwood Crossing
Excerpts from
The Case of the Copper King
Please use only one!
Excerpt 1
Colorado Springs, Colorado 1899
As one of five women making the rounds in the Lone Dog Saloon, the proprietor expected her to be in high demand. The silky blond hair was pulled up to frame her face while the rest flowed around her shoulders. She drew the attention of every man she passed at the tables, offering a wink, smile, or small wave to each of them.
None of them held her interest.
She sidled up to one man and held a half-full bottle close to her chest.
“Care for a drink, cowboy?”
“I like a little sugar with my whiskey.”
“Sugar is extra, sweetheart.”
“How much extra?”
Amber liquid fell from the bottle into the shot glass on the scarred bar. “Ten dollars.”
“That’s mighty steep for a place like this, darlin’.”
Her fingers trailed up his dusty vest. “I’m worth it, darlin’.”
His boisterous laugh startled a few of the patrons. “Where’s your room?”
“Not so fast. I like to know the names of the men I take to my bed.”
“Name’s Fletcher. I ain’t gonna take you to bed, darlin’. I’m gonna take you to heaven.”
Casey palmed the Deringer and pressed it against her quarry’s belly. “Fletcher Jones. You’ve been a hard man to find.”
Fletcher’s smile vanished as he looked at her with cold, hard eyes. “You got me mixed up with someone else.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You ain’t got what it takes to pull the trigger.”
“I’ve heard a lot of things about you, Fletcher. Not all accounts agree on what you look like, who you ride with, or how many innocent people you’ve killed, but they agree on one thing.”
He smirked. “What’s that?”
“You’re a very stupid man.” She pressed the pistol harder against his gut. “No, no, stay right there. Don’t make this worse for yourself. I want an audience, but I’m guessing you don’t. Where is your partner?”
Fletcher leaned close, the whiskey on his breath pungent and unpleasant. “Who are you?”
Casey smiled. “The person tired of hunting you.”
End of Excerpt © MK McClintock
Excerpt 2
Quinn Morgan rushed into the street and shielded his face from the heat of the fire. He might have been cold without his coat and hat had it not been for the adrenaline pumping through his body. He caught sight of a skirt as a woman rounded the wagon, but she disappeared behind the dwindling flames. Shouts from men and women reached him as he followed the skirt.
“You worthless drunk. You could have burned half the town down with your stunt!”
The skirt in question was in fact part of a nightgown peeking from beneath a canvas duster. Boots, similar to his own, completed an ensemble that left little to the imagination.
“Need some help?”
More striking than he remembered from his glimpse of her at the restaurant, the woman looked in his direction after she yanked on the other man’s coat. After two failed attempts, she nodded toward the drunken man. “Were you just talking to hear your voice, or did you mean to help?”
Quinn cleared a few sparks that jumped when someone tossed water on the flames and stepped up to help her. The good-for-nothing reeked of cheap whiskey and slurred his complaint at the rough handling. Quinn heaved the man up and braced him against one of the beams on the store now missing its front windows.
The woman moved closer and smacked the drunk across his face. “You’re lucky there weren’t people in the wagon or in the store.”
“Sthphm meh dronuk.”
“I don’t speak the language of drunk idiots.” She raised a hand and called out to someone else. Quinn watched the sheriff run over, with one hand holding his hat in place and the other on his gun.
“Det—Miss McKenzie. What have you got?”
“An idiot who spent too much time in the saloon tonight. I found him trying to light a cigar, and a lot of spent matches strewn about. One must have ended up in the wagon.” She pointed to the wagon, now in pieces. “Any idea what was in there, Sheriff? I saw your deputy panic when I first came out.”
To Quinn’s surprise, the sheriff’s face became an unremarkable shade of red.
“Powder. It wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Quinn handed the derelict over to the sheriff. “I believe he’ll find your jail comfortable enough for tonight.”
The sheriff tipped his hat and hauled the man away.
“It’s a chilly night.”
She nodded.
Quinn grinned. “Some might think it’s too cold for anything but long underwear.” Miss McKenzie—he’d like to know her given name—pulled and overlapped the edges of her duster. “Might help.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “I’ve seen you before. The restaurant.”
“You saw me, and I saw you.”
“Are you following me?”
“You mean, did I contrive to have the foolish deputy leave a wagon with gunpowder across from the hotel, hoping a drunk imbecile would strike too many matches, thus causing one to hit the powder and—”
Quinn swore he heard her growl, but to be safe, he cast a glance around to make sure they were still alone or as alone as two people can be in an open street. The water-soaked wagon and ruined powder stood between them and everyone else. He smoothed his grin into a straight line and held up both hands in defense. “My apologies, Miss McKenzie.” He held out one of his hands to her. “Quinn Morgan.”
“Miss McKenzie.”
His mouth quirked. “An unusual forename. Your parents had an odd sense of humor.” This time Quinn was certain the growl came from her.
She tugged her duster as tightly as she could manage, revealing more in the process than she likely intended. With only a heated glance that Quinn decided to mistake in part for attraction, Miss McKenzie tromped back to the hotel. He watched her short journey and smiled when she veered right and headed for the side entrance to avoid the small crowd of people who had gathered out front.
End of Excerpt © MK McClintock
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