CELTICLADY'S REVIEWS: The Tarnished Son by Elizabeth McKenna Book Tour with Excerpt~~

About The Tarnished Son

The Tarnished Son
Domestic Suspense
Setting – Wisconsin
Independently Published (‎ July 23, 2024)
Print length ‏ : ‎ 324 pages
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0D4R8HM6S

“This is a nice, quiet town with good people. Things like that don’t happen around here.”
But they do.
In THE TARNISHED SON, a tourist’s death, an alluring young teacher, a father’s carnal desires, and a stepdaughter’s vendetta ultimately destroy a village dynasty.
The respected Clark family has governed Williams Bay since 1837. On a hot August day, seventeen-year-old Liam causes a tragic boating accident. What happens next—infidelity, drugs, theft, and more—deepens long-hidden cracks in the family’s façade, exposing their secrets and tarnishing their golden image.
Meet the family:
William Sr., the grandfather who rules the family and the village with an iron fist
Hank, the father who lets temptations lead him on a path of self-destruction
Liam, the shining son who gets away with everything
Rose, the stepdaughter who has had enough and pushes the whole house down
Grab some popcorn and watch the destruction unfold in Elizabeth McKenna’s unpredictable family drama!

Read an Excerpt!

WILLIAM SR.

Sunday, September 3

My son paced the living room his current wife, Nora, had redecorated five times in the past three years. She called this version Shabby Chic, which meant filling the room with pillows, flowers, fake crystal lamps, and brand-new scuffed-up furniture. When she crowed about the great deal she got on a pair of bookcases that looked ready for the junkyard, I thought P.T. Barnum was right. There’s a sucker born every minute.

Irritation spread through my body, growing into anger that threatened to choke me as I watched Hank from my recliner by the fireplace. Side by side, it was clear we were related. We were both six feet tall with the same blue eyes and strong jaw the previous generations of Clark men shared, but that was where the similarities ended. At seventy-five years old and despite a recent hip replacement, I had the physique and at least eighty percent of the strength I had at fifty-five. My son walked around in a “dad bod,” whatever the hell that was. My brown hair had long ago turned gray, and I made weekly trips to the barbershop to keep it high and tight. At forty-seven years old, Hank pampered his brown curls with fancy products his wife bought at a beauty salon. He was a weak man and my biggest disappointment.

Hank paused before the mantel, picked up a family portrait, and studied it with weepy eyes. “I’m worried about Liam.”

“Why?” I demanded. “The boy seems fine.”

He shook his head. “Liam needs to talk about what happened and how he feels. If you suppress a trauma, you’ll end up sick, both mentally and physically.”

I sighed heavily and added an eye roll. “Did you read that medical advice on Facebook or Instagram?”

“I’m serious, Dad,” he whined. “We need to do something for him.”

The doorbell rang, and Hank looked bewildered as if he had never had a visitor.

I stomped my cane against the floor, but the thick carpet muffled my intended effect. “For goodness’ sake, don’t stand there like an imbecile. Answer the door.”

He hurried from the room, obeying my command. A moment later, he returned with the village’s police chief.

“Don’t get up, William,” the chief said as I scooted forward in my chair.

I nodded my thanks and shook the hand he offered me. “This hip replacement is more trouble than it’s worth. The doctor says to give it time, but what the hell does he know? Anyway, have a seat, David. I assume you’re not here to listen to me bellyache. Hank, pour the chief some coffee. He takes cream, no sugar.”

Hank’s eyes widened as if I had asked him to perform open-heart surgery. “I’ll have to make some. There isn’t any left from breakfast.”

My single raised eyebrow at this earth-shattering news spurred him from the room.

The chief wedged himself into what remained of the couch after Nora had added two rows of unnecessary pillows. He leaned toward me, rested his forearms on his thighs, and clasped his hands. “I was wondering if I could talk to Liam again.”

“Oh? Why?” I lifted my voice in surprise, though I had expected his visit. David wasn’t the sharpest police chief, but he was thorough. “You have his statement, and the boy is so upset that I would hate to put him through any more pain. He’s barely left his room since last night.”

The chief’s forehead creased as he studied his knuckles. “You see, William.” He paused to clear his throat. “A witness to yesterday’s drowning has come forward. His story differs from Liam’s, so we need to confirm what actually happened before I can close the case.”

“I don’t understand. Didn’t the other children on the boat give the same account of this tragic accident as Liam?”

“Yes,” the chief agreed. “Almost verbatim.”

“There you have it.” I slapped my thigh. “Your witness must be mistaken. Perhaps they were too far away to see everything clearly? Or the afternoon sun blinded them?”

The chief squirmed on the couch. “The witness was on the lake path, which is a fair distance, but his version of the event seems plausible.”

“In what way, David?” I kept my tone even with a touch of indifference to display we had nothing to hide or worry about.

He coughed into his fist, a stall tactic he often used when meeting with the village trustees. “The witness said a boat with two males and three females was coming at high speed into the bay and directly at the man on the paddleboard. When the driver swerved to avoid the man, he created a wake that caused the man to lose his balance and fall in. His description of the boat and the people on board matches your boat and the kids.”

About Elizabeth McKenna

Elizabeth McKenna’s love of books reaches back to her childhood, where her tastes ranged from Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys to Stephen King’s horror stories.

Her novels reflect her mercurial temperament and include romances, mysteries, and suspense. Some are “clean,” and some are “naughty,” so she has a book for your every mood.

Elizabeth lives in Wisconsin with her understanding husband and Sidney, the rescue dog from Tennessee. When she isn’t writing, reading, or walking the dog that never tires, she’s sleeping.