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23 February 2024

The Snow Job (Century Cottage Cozy Mysteries) by Dianne Ascroft


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The Snow Job (Century Cottage Cozy Mysteries)
Cozy Mystery 3rd in Series
Setting - Fenwater, a fictional small to in the province of Ontario in Canada during the early 1980s.
Independently Published (December 13, 2023)

Paperback ‏: ‎ 310 pages

ISBN-13 :979-8871249321

Digital ASIN‎ B0CQ3DJL3F


A Scottish shindig, a pretty pin, a cold corpse. When a well-liked and respected townsman is murdered on a snowy street in Fenwater, it’s up to Lois Stone to sift through a multitude of motives to find the killer.

Middle-aged widow Lois is beginning to feel part of the Fenwater community, and as winter sets in, she is getting ready for the town’s biggest Scottish event, the annual Burns Night supper. But when one of the committee members dies in suspicious circumstances, Lois has more to worry about than the fate of this year’s celebration. She tried unsuccessfully to revive the man and her friend Marge worked with him. So, they want to find his killer even though Lois promised her partner Bruce that she would stay out of police matters. But, what’s the harm in asking a few questions? Such as does someone want to safeguard their inheritance or give their business a boost? Will finding the motive for the murder lead them to the killer or maybe more?

And so begins a fortnight of slippery sidewalks, angst about ancestors, capable firemen and cunning firebugs, unreliable records, swirling Scottish music and swinging tartan kilts, calico cats and smouldering spooks set against the backdrop of snow glistening under streetlamps on serene streets, the comfort of ritual in a cold churchyard, the swish of skate blades in crisp night air and the tang of mouthwatering meatloaf in rural Canada in 1984.

The Century Cottage Mystery series is mainly set in rural Ontario, Canada during the early 1980s.

A tale for fans of Cindy Bell, Leighann Dobbs, Dianne Harman and Kathi Daley.

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Dianne Ascroft writes the Century Cottage Cozy Mysteries, set in rural Canada, and The Yankee Years historical sagas, set in WWII Northern Ireland. She has a passion for Ireland and Canada, past and present. An ex-pat Canadian, Dianne lives on a small farm with her husband and an assortment of strong-willed animals.

Her previous fiction works include An Unbidden Visitor (a tale inspired by Fermanagh’s famous Coonian ghost); Dancing Shadows, Tramping Hooves: A Collection of Short Stories (contemporary tales), and an historical novel, Hitler and Mars Bars, which explores Operation Shamrock, a little known Irish Red Cross humanitarian endeavor.

Website

http://www.dianneascroft.com

Facebook page

https://www.facebook.com/DianneAscroftwriter/

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@DianneAscroft

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Purchase Links

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THE SNOW JOB EXCERPT 

Lois smiled thinking about her house. She had only moved into it six months ago but she loved the historic grey stone cottage. It had been built just over a hundred years ago and therefore qualified for the designation ‘century house’. The house she was looking at right now was probably a similar age to her own so it would also be a heritage property. Before she moved to Fenwater last summer she knew little about heritage houses but she had done a lot of research into the history of her house and became fascinated by the architecture of the period when it was built. 

At the end of the block, she emerged onto Haughton Road, a wider thoroughfare that bisected the residential street. Glancing in both directions, she prepared to cross the larger street, but as she looked to the left, she heard a voice coming from the opposite direction.

“Bit nippy tonight, Lois.” 

A middle-aged woman wrapped in a deep royal blue parka strode up to her, pulled along by a white terrier.

“Hi, Connie. It certainly is. But I don’t really mind it. I love the way the snow glistens under the streetlights. It’s so pretty.”

Her neighbour Connie Harris stopped beside her, nodding agreement as she inclined her head toward the dog who was still pulling at its leash, intent on continuing its walk. “Yeah, and slippery if you’re not careful. This one has almost pulled me off my feet a couple times tonight. He doesn’t give me much time to enjoy the scenery. It flies by.”

Familiar with the energetic dog, Lois chuckled. “Yes, I can imagine.”

“Do you want to finish our walk with us? It would give us a chance to catch up. I haven’t seen you since Christmas.” Connie nodded toward the next intersection. “I’m just going to cut down there to St Andrew’s, head along the main street and then back up our street to home.” 

Lois shook her head. “Thanks for the invitation but I’m going to take the direct route home tonight. Any other time I’d say yes, but I’ve been at Marge’s all evening and I really should get home. I’ve got a few things to do and the cats will wonder where I’ve got to.” Lois laughed self-consciously at herself for letting her two adorable pets dictate her activities. 

“That’s okay. We’ll catch up another time. How’s Marge?”

“She’s fine – her usual self. She’s all fired up about the Burns Night supper.”

“I’ll bet. It’s always fun. You’re coming, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I promised Marge, and besides, I’m playing with the pipe band. I take it you’re going too?”

“Oh, definitely. I never miss it. Snowy, sit.” Connie jerked the leash and gave the dog a stern look before she returned her gaze to Lois. “What’s your family tartan?”

Lois shrugged. “Uh, I don’t have much of a Scottish connection. I doubt I have a family tartan.”

“If you have Scottish ancestors, you probably do. You should check it out. I always wear my Harris Royal Blue tartan skirt to the supper.”

Lois shoved her gloved hands into her pockets, nodding without replying. She would prefer to avoid discussing anything to do with her Scottish ancestry. If she just kept quiet it shouldn’t be long before Snowy did something to distract its owner and rescue her from the topic. 

As if the dog could read her mind, at that moment Snowy tugged at the leash again and Connie raised her eyebrows in an apologetic gesture. “I better get going.”

“Sure. Pop over for a coffee whenever you like and we’ll catch up.”

“Will do. See you later.” Connie raised her hand in farewell and continued along the street, pulled along by the dog’s unflagging energy. 

Lois watched Connie and her dog until they were halfway down the block. Then, shivering in the chilly night air, she turned and checked for traffic once more before she hurried to the opposite side of the road. 

“Snowy, stop that. Come here!”

Connie’s sharp cry made Lois glance over her shoulder at her neighbour. Connie was struggling with her dog. It frantically pulled to the left to head up the next street as Connie tugged the leash to turn the animal in the opposite direction. Lois chuckled. The little dog was surprisingly strong and determined. It was unlikely that Connie’s quick circuit of the block would go as planned. 

As Lois watched, the dog jerked the leash and pulled Connie off balance. She stumbled after the dog onto the side street. Lois wondered if she should offer to help but the dog hadn’t escaped its leash so there wouldn’t be a wild game of tag up and down the street tonight. Connie should soon get the situation under control again without her help. 

Still chuckling, Lois entered the section of Maiden Lane where she lived. Connie certainly had her hands full with that dog. It made her glad that she had cats. With half a block left to go, she would be home to them soon. She wouldn’t be surprized if Ribbons were sitting in the front window watching for her return. The sleek calico cat was highly intelligent and seemed to anticipate her actions. 

Behind her, Lois heard a shriek followed by frantic barking. What on earth has Snowy done now? She stopped walking and listened. The noise continued. I better go and see if Connie is alright.

Lois spun around and raced toward the street where her friend had disappeared.

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One Paperback Copy of The Snow Job (Century Cottage Cozy Mysteries) by Dianne Ascroft. USA & International.

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Frenemies and Lovers by Michelle McCraw Release Blitz! @indie_pen_pr #michellemccraw #frenemiesandlovers

When Carly Rose, a recent divorcee, needs a date to her ex’s wedding, she agrees to a deal with a devilishly handsome younger man—her frenemy’s son, Andrew, who happens to be her one-night stand. What could possibly go wrong? 

Readers who love vacation romances with long standing crushes will fall hard for Frenemies and Lovers by Michelle McCraw, a steamy, fake dating, age gap, one-night stand romantic comedy.

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Fake partnership, real attraction, and one hilariously haute disaster waiting to happen...buckle up for this age-gap rom-com.

Carly Rose, forty-five and fiercely independent, is rebuilding her life. Newly divorced, she's determined to make her stylist business blossom, even with the thorn in her side: Audrey, her frenemy with a tongue sharper than her designer stilettos. Enter Andrew, Audrey's son, a charming blend of geek energy and fierce loyalty. Who happens to be Carly’s completely off-limits secret one-night stand.

When a chance for Andrew's dream promotion hinges on a polished public image, he makes an unexpected proposition: a mutually beneficial charade. Carly, facing the gauntlet of her ex's destination wedding in Barcelona, agrees to become his pretend girlfriend. What starts as a carefully curated act evolves into stolen moments whispered over tapas, kisses in front of Gaudi fountains, and feelings as warm as a cashmere scarf on a crisp autumn day.

Caught between ambition and a forbidden yearning, Carly and Andrew navigate a minefield of sabotaged styling appointments; cringeworthy encounters with exes, bosses and disapproving mothers; plus the undeniable truth that attraction doesn't follow age brackets.

Swoon for this steamy standalone romantic comedy featuring fabulousness after forty, making friends with enemies, and finding love with a wildly inappropriate fake date.

(Shh, don't tell Audrey, but Andrew's dimples are definitely the hottest accessory this season.)

Add to Goodreads Here!

Excerpt
Copyright 2024 Michelle McCraw
Warning: Some Language

“I don’t care about being invited to parties anymore.” Staying home was preferable to facing down my asshole of an ex and his fiancée. “But I do care about making a living for myself.”

Audrey pursed her lips. “I heard your divorce settlement was less than ideal.”

Heat licked across my forehead. I wished I could go back and shake my twenty-five-year-old self, the one who’d blithely signed away any future interest in Brad’s business ventures. The ones I’d supported through dinner parties and networking for almost twenty years. But even if I didn’t have his money, I still had my pride, and my dirty laundry was none of her business.

“I came to talk about my clients. I need women like Bianca to hire me.”

She rose from her chair. She was shorter than me, but fire ants are small too. “Why do you think I had anything to do with Bianca canceling?” Her pale-blue eyes glinted.

“Of course you did. You’ve always had it out for me. You and the other first wives.” I’d never said it out loud, not to Audrey or any of her cronies. But it had been true since the day I walked into that first party on Brad’s arm, so much younger than his friends. Back then, she terrified me. Now, I was old enough not to give a damn about what she thought of me. I only feared what she could do to my business. “You’re kicking me when you think I’m down.”

I straightened my spine. I’d show her, and all the other first wives, that even without Brad, I was a force to be reckoned with. Someday, Audrey’s circle would beg me to style them for their parties. “I’m not down. Far from it. I’m going to show you, and everyone—”

“Mother?” A familiar voice echoed down the hall, sending lightning up my spine.

I couldn’t keep the images from my mind. His sexy saunter as he approached me that night in Monterey. His outrageous suggestion that I meet him in his hotel room. The way his face lit up when he opened his door to find me standing there.

His handsome face, slack with pleasure, as he groaned my name.

“In here, Andrew,” Audrey called. She raised an eyebrow. Her son could move his eyebrows independently too. “You were saying?”

Shit. I couldn’t face him. Not in front of his mother. Not after I’d left him asleep in his hotel room six weeks ago without a word. His heavy footsteps echoed on the hallway tile.

I held up a finger. “Do. Not. Mess. With me, Audrey. I might not have Brad’s clout anymore, but I’ve got plenty of fight left in me.”

I whirled and wrenched open the glass-paned door that led out to the garden. Heedless of the damage to my shoes, I scurried down the gravel path and around the side of the house, out of sight of the conservatory windows.

Tessa waited for me in her SUV. When I yanked open the passenger-side door, my middle fingernail snapped, shooting pain up my hand, but I didn’t pause as I hopped into the seat. “Floor it!”

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Michelle McCraw loves reading kissing books and working in tech. One day, she decided to combine her two interests, and now she writes steamy, nerdy contemporary romance that just might make you laugh. Her Synergy workplace romance series features characters who unashamedly love science, engineering, and technology.

 Her novels have been finalists in the RWA Vivian Contest, the Contemporary Romance Writers' Stiletto Contest, and the Windy City Romance Writers' Four Seasons Contest. A native Texan, Michelle has shoveled snow during nor’easters and knows the proper response when someone yells “O-H.” 

She now calls Georgia home, where she doesn’t miss snow AT ALL. She enjoys reading, traveling, drinking bourbon, and spoiling her extraordinarily ill-behaved but adorable dogs.

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#40andfabulous#romanticcomedy #romcom #fakedating #agegap #vacationromance #onenightstand #steamyromance #TBR #mustread #nowavailable #newrelease

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Locked Up One Night by Chastity Bowlin and Laramie Briscoe Release Blitz!

 

Title: Locked Up One Night 

Author: Chasity Bowlin & Laramie Briscoe 

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

Release Date: February 23, 2024 

Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC. 

I shouldn't want my ex-wife's little sister, but I do. And turns out, she wants me, too...

Troy

There’s one person who pushes all my buttons… Lizzie. My former sister in law. My ex wife’s baby sister. Who was a freaking kid when Emma and I were married. But she’s not a kid anymore and my feelings for her aren’t brotherly. At all. And when I have to put her in handcuffs, upholding the law is the last thing on my mind.

Lizzie

The Sheriff. My former brother-in-law. I’ve done everything I could to get his attention other than march naked down Main Street and he only ever looks at me like I’m an annoyance All it took was being in the right place at the wrong time. And when he’s putting me in handcuffs and into the backseat of a cruiser, I catch a glimpse of the fire burning under the surface. He calls me a spoiled brat. And spoiled brats always get what they want. 

From USA Today Bestselling Authors, Chasity Bowlin and Laramie Briscoe, comes a brand new small town series full of spice, steam, and second chances.

AMAZON 

Laramie Briscoe is the USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author of over 30 books, with sales of over half a million copies.

Since self-publishing her first book in May of 2013, Laramie has appeared on the Top 100 Bestselling E-books Lists on Apple Books, Amazon Kindle, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble. Her books have been known to make readers laugh and cry. They are guaranteed to be emotional, steamy reads.

When she's not writing alpha males who seriously love their women, she loves spending time with friends, reading, and marathoning shows on Netflix. Married to her high school sweetheart, Laramie lives in Bowling Green, KY with her husband.

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Searching For Jimmy Page by Christy Alexander Hallberg Book Tour! #JimmyPage #SearchingForJimmyPage @SilverDaggerBookTours @ChristyAlexanderHallberg @christyhallberg

'Searching for Jimmy Page' chronicles 18-year-old Luna's

 transatlantic quest from her family's farm in eastern

 North Carolina to England as she embarks on a

 captivating journey to locate Led Zeppelin's iconic

 guitarist, Jimmy Page, in an effort to unravel a

 compelling family mystery. 

Searching For Jimmy Page

by Christy Alexander Hallberg

Genre: Literary Fiction, Mystery 

The unraveling of eighteen-year-old Luna Kane’s haunted past begins in the winter of 1988, when her dying great-grandfather, a self-proclaimed faith healer, claims he hears phantom owls crying in the night. “Them owls, like music. Can you hear the music?” he implores her in his final moments, triggering Luna’s repressed memory of her dead mother’s obsession with Jimmy Page, Led Zeppelin’s legendary guitar wizard.

Desperate to learn the truth about her mother’s suicide, to tease fact from family lore in order to weave her own personal narrative, Luna embarks on a pilgrimage from her family’s farm in the pines of eastern North Carolina to England, to search for the man whose music her mother held sacred, Jimmy Page.

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Legendary rocker Alice Cooper promotes Searching For Jimmy Page on his syndicated radio show, 'Nights With Alice Cooper'!


Christy Alexander Hallberg is the author of the award-winning novel Searching for Jimmy Page (Livingston Press, 2021) and host of Rock is Lit, a podcast about rock novels, from Pantheon Podcast Network. 

She is a Teaching Professor of English at East Carolina University and serves as Senior Associate Editor of North Carolina Literary Review. Her fiction, creative nonfiction, book reviews, and interviews have appeared in many journals, including story South, Still: The Journal, Fiction Southeast, and Eclectica.

Read an  interview between Christy and  North Carolina Literary Review for their winter 2022 issue!

See the interview here!

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22 February 2024

⁣Catch and Release by @tracysolheimauthor Book Blitz! ⁣⁣#tracysolheim #⁣CatchandRelease #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣

 

Catch and Release
Tracy Solheim
(Milwaukee Growlers Football Romance, #3)
Publication date: February 26th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports

A second chance, enemies-to-lovers football romance.

He’s the pro athlete everyone wants to be.
Quarterback Trey Van Horn didn’t become the league’s MVP by accident. Years of self-discipline and iron-clad control have made him the envy of everyone in and around the game of football. But when he comes face-to-face with the one who got away, his tightly managed life is turned upside down. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to score the greatest comeback of his life.

She’s tired of being every guy’s doormat.
London Headley is on the verge of having the career she’s always dreamed of. Too bad the path to her promotion runs through the guy who broke her heart a decade earlier. So what if everything about the Milwaukee Growlers QB sets her panties on fire? She’s determined to keep things professional. Life has taught her that men will always choose something—or someone—over her. It’s going to take more than a Hail Mary to get her to buy into the fairy tale.

The only problem? Her lips don’t seem to want to follow the game plan. Not when Trey is executing an all-out blitz to prove he’s worth a second chance.

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“I’m all in,” he repeated softly, his breath teasing the skin near her ear. “You can count on me, London.”

Could she?

It wasn’t like she had a choice. Besides, Bennie said Trey’s reputation with advertisers was nothing but professional.

“I’d like it if we could get through this without every moment in each other’s presence being a battle,” he added.

Well damn if he wasn’t being the mature one.

She was the one being ridiculous by reading too much into everything he said and did, that’s all. If he could approach the situation like a grown up, then so could she. After all, she wasn’t that naïve eighteen-year-old any longer. No way was she falling for Trey Van Horn again. If he could keep things light and businesslike, she would put on her big girl panties and do the same.

But not if he kept touching her. It was impossible for her to think with his body so close to hers. She hurriedly untangled her fingers from his and put some distance between them.

“I’d like that as well.” Too bad her voice didn’t sound as steady and committed to the new plan as she’d like. She managed a smile that she hoped looked more assured than she felt. “I’m looking forward to making this campaign a success.”

He returned her smile with one of his own. Only his bordered on sly, as if he knew what the words were costing her.

“Me, too.” He opened her office door and gestured for her to exit first.


USA Today bestselling author Tracy Solheim writes books with shirtless men on the cover. Some of them are actually best-sellers. The books, not the men. When she's not writing, she's practicing her curling. . . bottles of wine, that is.

 

She's been known to cook dinner but no more than two nights in a row. Most days, she'd rather be reading, which to her is just necessary research. She lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her husband and a neurotic Labrador retriever. Her two adult children visit but not often enough. (See the note above about cooking.) 

Check out her romantic suspense series featuring the Men of the Secret Service--shirtless, of course! See what she’s up to at www.tracysolheim.com

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Playing Dead by TG Wolff Virtual Book Tour!


February 19 - 23, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Playing Dead by TG Wolff

The nightmare is over. Alexander “Rotten” Carter is dead. But when his body is dumped in Cleveland Homicide Detective Jesus De La Cruz’s neighborhood, there are more questions than answers. Rotten was dressed up like the king of hearts, right down to the dagger in the suicide king’s temple. The elaborate staging is perplexing at the same time seems to be sending a message.

As Cruz investigates, he discovers Rotten Carter was more complex than the simple villain he had painted him to be. So is his murder, which is related to the deaths of his two lieutenants months prior. Both were strangled and found, with playing cards in their mouths. Jacks.

As the body count climbs, connection tie back to a dead CI and an accident that made a cop a widower. A web becomes apparent with one man in the middle: Narcotics Detective Matt Yablonski. But is he the spider or another fly?

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Down & Out Books
Publication Date: February 2024
Number of Pages: 398
Series: The De La Cruz Case Files, Book 4
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

The crime scene was around the corner, no more than ten houses from Cruz’s own. Two streets came together at a sharp angle, creating oddly shaped yards. An island was formed at one of the peaks, surrounded by roadway. It was the length of one of the yards facing it. Geometric colors showed brightly in the morning sun, giving the landscape a third dimension it didn’t naturally have. Cruz approached, his mind transforming the lines and shapes into the macabre corpse.

“I called 9-1-1 and, thankfully, no one else has come out,” Binnie, the girls’ father, said. He stood guard over the island in worn sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He was barefoot.

“Aurora kept the girls. She’ll settle them down.”

“Good. I didn’t want them to see this, not any more than they had.” Binnie turned until he and Cruz were side by side. “The island was part of the city’s Color the Corners Chalk Festival. It took the artist two days to do it.”

That explained the background, a mosaic reminiscent of a stained-glass window, but not the character on it. Cruz thought Francie’s description of a costume was accurate. The victim, male, White, was in his twenties. The torso was covered by a tunic, the kind a knight might wear. Instead of regal, the tunic was decorated with hearts in groups of twos and threes, some facing up, others down. The costume was thin fabric. Details were printed on, not embroidered. The legs were dressed in a pair of tights, the red color coordinated with the tunic. The feet were bare.

The arms were bare as well. One was bent at the elbow with the hand resting on the lower abdomen. The other was positioned upward. The hand curled around the hilt of a long dagger, the blade buried in the head. It was an unnatural position that forced the wrist, elbow, and shoulder out of a flat alignment.

Cruz rounded to the base of the figure. He recognized it. “Someone made him into the king of hearts. Better get shoes on, Binnie,” he advised as vehicles began arriving at the scene. “This isn’t going to be quick.”

“I’ll put some coffee on,” he said and headed to the house directly behind them.

There was no estimate on when the man had died. His body temperature was lower than was naturally possible given the weather. The nighttime low bottomed out around fifty degrees. The body was low forties. The Cuyahoga County Medical Examiner would use methods more sophisticated than temperature to estimate time of death.

A cursory review of the body found no cuts, wounds, or contusions aside from the knife in the head. The blade had been driven in above the left ear. The handle was wrapped in leather, the complicated over-under weave spoke of skill and craftsmanship. Cruz examined the round, silver ball at the end and found it to be slightly flattened and marred with scratches.

Something about the position of the mouth drew Cruz’s attention. He applied pressure on the chin, opening the jaw. Inside was the white edge of folded paper. Widening the opening, he gently pulled. The folded item came easily. It wasn’t paper exactly. It was thicker. Coated. He turned it over, both sides printed in a blue elaborate pattern reminiscent of…a playing card.

He unfolded it, revealing the king of hearts.

Rising, he compared the body position to the card. It was a match.

He pictured the man resting his head on a table. His killer standing over him, holding the dagger in position with one hand and using a hammer in the other to drive the point deep. There were no defensive signs. It was as if the man simply lay down and allowed the knife to be driven into his head. The ME would tell him if the man was incapacitated via drugs or other means.

Wherever happened, it didn’t happen here. Beneath the body was the chalk of the drawing. The lines separating the colors were disturbed directly beneath but even that was minor. There was minimal transfer to the back of the clothing. The man was set in place, not dragged, which meant either multiple people were involved or one person strong enough to handle a body. The man was average to short with sinewy arms and legs. Cruz put him in the 160-pound camp.

Ready to tackle the timetable, Cruz went up the short walk to where Binnie waited with a cup of coffee.

“It’s nice and hot,” he said, holding out the insulated Cleveland Browns cup.

Cruz went up one step to accept. “I appreciate it. Tell me what happened this morning.”

“You know, Cruz, I can’t tell you much. I was dead asleep when Sunny screamed. You know how it is, one second out cold, then wide awake. I went to the front door. I could tell there was something on the island but not what it was.” He pointed to the screen now hiding the crime scene. “It didn’t make sense until I was nearly to the sidewalk. I told the girls to go get you and ran back in the house to get my phone. I didn’t even think about shoes. I called 9-1-1 and waited for you or them to arrive.”

“What time was this?”

Binnie pulled out his phone and searched for outgoing calls. “Eight minutes after seven. The sky was light but the street still dark. You know. You arrived just a few minutes later.”

Cruz did know but wanted details to supplement his own observations. “What about cars on the street? Anyone leaving the area? Any vehicles that didn’t belong?”

His witness thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Everything was quiet. I didn’t even see anyone walking their dog yet.”

“I had someone go house-to-house. Anyone who was awake was in their kitchen or backyard. There was no answer next door. Any idea where your neighbor is?”

“Metro General Hospital. He works first shift in the maintenance department. He left at twenty to seven. When he started his car, I woke enough to read the clock and decide it was too early to get up.” Binnie pointed to a pair of patrol officers waving their way. “I think they want you.”

“We’re close to wrapping up here. Let me see what they need, then we’ll go to my house. I need to ask your daughters a few questions.” Cruz left the porch, turning his attention to the officers. “What do you have?”

“The victim has been identified as Alexander Carter, age twenty-seven,” the leading officer answered. “His listed address is his parents’, but he’s spent a lot of time as a guest of the county. In and out for possession, assault, petty theft. He’s—Detective?”

Cruz stalked to the protective tent.

“Detective? Cruz?” The officer hurried to keep up.

Cruz took a knee next to the dead man’s shoulder and studied the face. He’d seen it in pictures a dozen times, only twice in person. In every case, the eyes had been narrowed with hate, the chin tipped up in challenge.

“Do you know this guy?” the officer asked.

“Not just me. We’ve been after Rotten Carter since July. Send me the information on his next of kin. I’ll make the trip after we wrap here, and I follow up with the girls. Go back through the neighborhood, see if anyone here knows our vic.”

The officers left the tent to execute orders while Cruz studied the man he daydreamed about killing. Without the attitude he wore like skin, Rotten Carter had a clean-cut look. He didn’t have ink tatted across his body or battle-earned scars saying the man fought his way through life. He could have been a family man with a white-collar job.

He could have been an ordinary guy earning an honest living.

But he wasn’t.

Rotten Carter was a mid-level dealer who had been on Cleveland police’s radar for years. His sister, Natasha “Sasha” Carter was a confidential informant to Cruz’s best friend, Narcotics Detective Matt Yablonski. Sasha snitched with her brother’s permission or at least knowledge. She fed information on Rotten’s competition, keeping her brother’s territory solid.

One day last January, Sasha got in touch with Yablonski and asked for a meetup. She didn’t follow their normal protocols, wanting Yablonski to come to her place. He arrived at the agreed upon time and found Sasha overdosing. Yablonski called for backup and began CPR. Rotten walked in and misread the situation. While Rotten and Yablonski fought, Sasha died.

Rotten blamed Yablonski. He focused his energy and resources on finding the man who killed his sister. Bad luck or bad timing put Rotten in the same place at the same time as Yablonski, and Yablonski’s wife, Erin.

Rotten saw his opportunity for revenge and took it.

That night, Erin and Aurora were driving to a restaurant for a celebratory night out. Rain poured down, making the street dark and the road slick. There was no evidence Rotten Carter tracked Erin’s car through downtown Cleveland. There was no proof Rotten drove the car and instigated the crash. There were no witnesses to point to Rotten as the reason Erin Yablonski was dead and Aurora’s legs might never be the same.

And yet there was no doubt.

Alone in the tent with the corpse of the man he hated, Cruz felt empty. This didn’t fix a damn thing. And now, it would be his job to find the killer who had done him and the rest of the city a favor.

Cruz didn’t want the job, but he wasn’t going to pass it on. He was going to use it to his advantage and prove Rotten Carter was behind the crash.

Closure. That’s what he could give Aurora and Yablonski.

***

Excerpt from Playing Dead by TG Wolff. Copyright 2024 by TG Wolff. Reproduced with permission from TG Wolff. All rights reserved.

author

TG Wolff writes mysteries that play within the gray area between good and bad, right and wrong. She specializes in puzzles, giving you everything you need to solve the mystery. Diverse characters mirror the complexities of real life and real people, balanced with a healthy dose of entertainment. TG Wolff is the co-creator and co-host of Mysteries to Die For podcast. She holds a Master’s Degree in Civil Engineering and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.

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These Haunted Hills by Jana Denardo New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress

Title:  These Haunted Hills

Author: Jana Denardo

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/20/2024

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 88800

Genre: Contemporary paranormal, contemporary, paranormal, ghosts/ghost hunters, academics, mystery, steampunk, cosplay, nerds and general geekiness, haunted houses, violence/ malevolent spirit, grieving, suicidal ideation

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Young wildlife conservation professor, Joshua Zimmerman, adores foxes, steampunk, and paranormal investigation. As a geek of the first order, Josh is a collector of nerdy memorabilia and tattoos, and he’s an avid steampunk cosplayer. When his favorite author hires him for some ghost hunting for his new project, Josh can hardly believe his luck.

As an author of the wildly successful urban fantasy series, The Green Tablet, Brendan Halloran should have it all. And he did until his young son, Connor, died of cancer. Heartbroken and drowning in grief, Brendan stops writing, stops living his life. His marriage has disintegrated, leaving Brendan trapped in the moment Connor died.

When Brendan rents a cabin in Ohio’s Hocking Hills, it’s ostensibly to research his next book, an adult paranormal tale. Brendan hires a local professor who is an expert on the paranormal, thinking if he does pull out of his tail spin and makes good on his plan to write a new book, he might as well do it right. And the perfect place to investigate could be the remains of an old hotel constructed to suit the serial killer who built it.

Brendan finds himself swept away, completely unprepared for the joy and enthusiasm Josh brings to everything he does. Step by step, Brendan reenters life. His head might not be convinced he’s ready to love again, but his heart disagrees. Unfortunately for him, the ghost is every bit as vicious as the killer was in life, and he and Joshua have a target on their backs.

These Haunted Hills
Jana Denardo © 2024
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Brendan second-guessed his decision the moment he parked his car. He reminded himself it was exactly what he said he wanted: a cabin in the woods. The cold spring deluge lashing him from car to porch soured things further. To Brendan, the shower perfectly embodied the condition of his mind and soul.

Leaving his bag inside the door, Brendan drank in what would be his home for the next month. It could almost be called cute, in a rustic sort of way. The outside was a quintessential log cabin with a small porch bearing well-padded chairs. Only the green metal roof ruined the sixteenth-century settler homestead feel. Inside, the loft bedroom perched above the open-concept living area and kitchen. A tiny bathroom, tucked around the far corner of the kitchen, looked functional. As promised, there was a table, which would be useful as a writing desk for the times curling up on the couch with his laptop proved to be an ergonomic nightmare. He’d have to snap a photo of the stone fireplace with its fan-shaped iron guard and send it to Heather. She’d love it. A pang zinged his heart thinking about her.

He peered out one rain-streaked window. The only thing in view were trees, mostly pines mixed with something covered in blooms, dogwood maybe. Zimmermann had chosen Brendan the perfect cabin. The green isolation he’d chased after surrounded him. The forest suffocated him, the sheer aloneness of it. Those second thoughts skyrocketed. Heather hadn’t wanted him to come. She didn’t trust him alone. Brendan knew his ex had reason to worry. Both of them were mired in grief, and three years hadn’t moved them past it.

Brendan imagined giving in to the grief in a quiet place such as this cabin. No one would know until his month’s worth of rent was up. He shuddered and forced himself away from the window. His hypothesis wasn’t exactly true. Zimmermann would wonder where he was if Brendan missed their meeting. Brendan braved the chilling rain to grab his computer bag and three canvas bags of groceries out of the car. He busied himself with unpacking. His mood lifted to an inch above the floor once he filled the cabin with the scent of coffee.

With the groceries stowed, Brendan started a fire in a fireplace made for romance, but he wasn’t here for affairs of the heart. The small fire would be efficient in heating the cabin and driving the spring chill from the room.

Brendan planted himself with his coffee on the couch in front of the smallest TV he’d seen in ages. He shifted around on the futon, which seemed more comfortable than most of their ilk. Maybe someone had added a memory foam pad to it; whatever it was, Brendan was grateful since he would be spending a fair amount of time on it. Flipping on the TV, he reassured himself there was a functioning satellite and ditto the Wi-Fi for the computer, so there wouldn’t be some Overlook/The Shining isolation-driven craziness going on.

After turning the TV off, Brendan powered up his computer. He checked his emails and let Heather know he’d made it safely. He saw no emails from his agent, nor from the man he’d hired to show him around the haunted sites in the Hocking Hills area and the surrounding towns. Brendan brought up the These Haunted Hills website to determine what sites he should visit first. There were no pictures of Joshua Zimmermann on the website, just ones of the haunted locales.

Zimmermann had sent Brendan a photo at his request so Brendan would know who to look for when he met up with his guide for the month. One clue Brendan wasn’t completely dead inside was how cute he found Joshua. Zimmermann looked more like an undergrad in his picture and almost too boyish to be believable as an accomplished PhD, teaching wildlife conservation at a local university. It could be an old photo, or that his bright smile belied the number of years behind it.

Of all the potential haunted locations, Brendan wanted to visit Crooked Pines the most. A former hotel, Crooked Pines was now abandoned and theoretically too haunted and too ruined to be reclaimed; it contained a story, and Brendan needed to dig it out. His agent still doubted the idea of him writing a more adult ghost story, but it had been five years since the end of his young adult series. He’d written nothing new, though the adventures of Kiyomi Fujita, John Archer, and Vince Bianchi had generated more than enough money to live his life out twice over.

All his money hadn’t bought Brendan any happy endings. What had begun as a lucky break—and Brendan was well aware of how many fantastic authors never hit it big—became a noose. So many nights Brendan had lain awake wondering if the success of his series had drained the rest of the luck from his family’s life. The evidence suggested yes.

He stroked the cool glass pendant around his neck. All he wanted now was to write again. It had been so long. Most of what had come from his mind in the last three years had been pain-filled poems he had shown to no one, not even Heather. He thought, perhaps, taking a break from the young adult genre and all the memories associated with it would help him burst through his writer’s block.

Brendan could still taste the anger, bitter on his tongue. Being here in the wilderness made up the crux of his latest plan to move himself forward. The anger and grief had been woven into his soul, inseparable now. Either he had to live with it, or this was the end. Brendan wasn’t sure he cared which. He forced himself back to work, hoping to get lost in it.

Brendan tapped his lips in time to Piazzolla’s “Oblivion” as he rolled the outline for his new novel around in his mind. Maybe “Oblivion” was a little too on point for his state of mind. Perhaps he should hunt down some of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Transferring his fingers to the keyboard, he tried to type out something, but mostly, the outline was a loose collection of things he wanted to happen in the novel more than anything concrete. Granted, his outlines rarely were more.

Maybe I should return to working on the character studies. What he wouldn’t give to be able to draw his own characters. Some of his fans drew exquisite works, a few of which he saved. For the most part, he never looked at them, and legally, looking at fanfiction was a bad idea. Regardless, people tweeted them at him or shoved them at him at conventions. Some of it was downright smutty, and he did his best not to notice. It didn’t take away the frisson of jealousy over some of the artistic talent they had that had gone missing in him.

A knocking noise startled him off the futon. Brendan caught his balance and whipped around, trying to locate the source. Another knock echoed from the loft. Brendan backed up so he could peer up there without going up the steps. Nothing moved. At the third knock, he hauled himself up the stairs, but the loft stood empty. He looked out the window at the waving tree branches. What did he expect to see? A raccoon? A squirrel?

“Did you rent me a haunted cabin, Dr. Zimmermann?” Brendan’s laugh died when a fourth knock came from right next to the window.

He pinched up his features and stared out the window again. Still no critters. “Lots of wind though,” he muttered to himself. “You’re hearing the rain on the tin roof or tree branches. Totally normal. Not like you’d know.”

Comforted by the normal sounds of rain and wind—he’d never had a tin roof before—Brendan went downstairs and sat on the futon. Ghosts weren’t real.

Then why have you been uncomfortable in your own home?

He picked up the laptop, contemplating the thought. Because you’re haunted by Connor’s memory, nothing more.

He was lying to himself. He half believed it was possible Connor’s spirit was trapped in their family home. It was enough to have prompted Zimmermann to mention he didn’t necessarily go to houses to “clean” them, but his team did home investigations. Brendan had gotten the distinct impression Zimmermann did not want to do this, and he got it. Zimmermann had probably guessed his pen name and was wary of celebrity.

Did you want someone to go to your home and do an investigation?

Brendan wished he had an answer to the question. He’d promised Zimmermann that, no, he didn’t; he had no interest in it. But was it a lie? Another question without a clear answer. Instead of dwelling on it, he sent off an email to Dr. Zimmermann to let the man know he’d arrived and was ready to meet. He’d come up with a few plans of attack when it came to investigating the local haunts and wanted to see which fit Zimmermann’s schedule best.

Brendan turned his attention to the character information sheets for his new project. They might change by the end, but he needed a starting place, a way to keep his mind off things. At this point, distracting himself was the best Brendan could hope for.

NineStar Press | Books2Read


Jana is Queen of the Geeks (her students voted her in), and her home and office are shrines to any number of comic book and manga heroes along with SF shows and movies too numerous to count. It’s no coincidence that the love of all things geeky has made its way into many of her stories. To this day, she’s disappointed she hasn’t found a wardrobe to another realm, a superhero to take her flying among the clouds, or a roguish starship captain to run off to the stars with her.

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