Tag Archives: murder

Author Interview with Lawrence E. Rothstein ~ Ripped Genes #mystery #suspense #thriller

Please help me welcome today’s guest, Lawrence E. Rothstein…

Where did you get the idea for Ripped Genes?

The idea for Ripped Genes comes from my academic research into the legal aspects of genetic technology and privacy as well as the Panama Papers money laundering news coverage.

Why did you choose this genre (is it something you’ve written in before)?

I love to read mysteries and, and in law classes, I enjoyed writing fictional scenarios for my students to analyze.

What’s your favorite book of all time and why? What’s your favorite childhood book?

The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco because of its intricacy, historic panorama, intriguing mystery, and intelligent detective. As a middle school aged child, I particularly enjoyed the John Carter of Mars books by Edgar Rice Burroughs for the heroic action and interesting and exotic setting.

What do you want readers to come away with after they read Ripped Genes?

I hope that readers enjoy reading my book as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope they find it to be a good story with an intriguing puzzle; a cerebral detective assisted by an active, street wise, intrepid leg person; humorous incidents; an intriguing locale; and culinary delights.

What actors would you like in the main roles if your book were made into a movie?

I would love to see Sidney Greenstreet or James Earl Jones play Korb. Unfortunately, they are no longer available. Maury Chaykin who played Nero Wolfe might be a good present-day choice.  Don Warrington from Death in Paradise would also make a great Korb. Possibly Dan Ackroyd appropriately aged and padded. As for Kelan Su, Michelle Yeoh or Lucy Liu in their younger days or possibly Aki Maeda, Chiaki Kuriyama. Idris Elba would make an excellent Desmond St. Clair.

If you could be a character in any of your books, who would you be?

Kelan Su. Although she is much braver and more of a criminal investigation expert than I.

Who is the most famous person you have ever met?

I met James Baldwin in Vence, France in 1976.

How did you come up with the title?

I love puns and the title Ripped Genes also captured the essence of the murder victim’s wrongdoing.

How did your interest in writing originate?

Both as a lawyer and an academic I did a lot of writing. I very much enjoyed the creative process of finding the right words to effectively and forcefully make a point.

Thank you for joining me today. I enjoyed the interview. Now, please tell us about your book…

The Tri-Star Investigations team must negotiate Chicago’s underworld and politics to find the killer of a medical scientist who fraudulently patented and restricted research on a gene and a test for Feraxia.

Excerpt:

KELAN SU

Korb was in the office sitting in his favorite overstuffed wing chair reading a book. He still wore his scuffed leather slippers and bright yellow pajamas. It was 3:00pm! He pushed the reading glasses to the end of his nose and glanced over the top of the lenses as I entered but immediately pushed the specs back and returned to Hamid Ismailov’s, The Railway.

Closing the door behind me with a little extra force, I stood still watching my boss. After about five seconds, I cleared my throat. Finally, Korb looked up with a tight smile, placed the book open over his knee and took off his glasses. “Is there something you want?” he asked, cocking his head to the right.

“Well, you know there’ve been no new paying clients for over two weeks,” I began after a slight hesitation.

“Yes. I consider it a welcome respite.”

Korb was lazy between cases, although a bulldog once he got his teeth into an investigation. Money was important to him, but not always as important as his time for reading, reflection, gourmandizing or playing bridge.

“Our operating accounts are guttering. There may not be enough next month to pay Des’s and my salaries and Mickey D’s retainer.”

“If necessary, I can replenish the accounts with personal funds. All will be paid.”

Korb was loaded as a result of his renown as an investigator and some very prudent investing. “Oh, I’m not really worried about my salary. I know you’re good for it. But …”

Korb looked down and shook his head slightly as he interrupted me. “Kelan, stop beating around the bush. You want us to work for your friend, Cheryl Dain, who is representing the woman accused of murdering the scientist that patented the gene and test for feraxia, do you not?”

My mouth opened soundlessly for a moment. I finally managed to sputter, “How did you know that?”

A loud “harrumph” came from deep down in Korb’s chest. “The conclusion was obvious. I read the papers. The development of the case has been front page news and fodder for several letters to the editor. You told me yourself that you were to meet with Dain today and mentioned that you hadn’t seen her for quite a while. Your little diversion about our accounts didn’t put me off the scent. Can she pay or is this another one of your pro bono projects?”

I closed my eyes, contemplating how to put it. “She can pay but an installment arrangement will have to be set up. Dain will cover expenses as they occur.”

“If we do this, and I’m not committing to it, I will need to talk first to Dain, Merino, and Merino’s husband and daughter. Our contractual agreement will have to be with Dain so we are covered by attorney-client privilege and Dain will be liable for our fee.

 Korb continued, “As much as I hate to travel to the suburbs, the initial meeting should be at Dain’s office to bolster any privilege or work product claim. See if you can arrange this for Monday afternoon. Make sure the car is ready for a trip to Marshfield.” Korb replaced on his nose the glasses he had been holding in his right hand and picked up the open volume. “Well, does that conclude the business for which you interrupted my immersion in this excellent novel?”

Buy link(s):

Amazon –  https://a.co/d/5Oebfv0;

Barnes & Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ripped-genes-lawrence-e-rothstein/1146455159?ean=9781509259403;

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/220981265-ripped-genes?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=DQfKWis5XC&rank=6

About the Author:

I am a retired lawyer and university professor who has published in constitutional law, privacy law, political theory and labor law. Born and raised in Chicago, I am now residing with my wife and family in beautiful southern Rhode Island and wintering on Hutchinson Island, Florida.  I have lived and traveled widely in Europe.  As an avid reader of crime fiction, I have always wanted to write detective novels. I consider this my third career. Venetian Bind published in May 2024 was my first Tri-Star Investigations novel. Ripped Genes is my second and I am well into my third, The Tell-Tale Art. As a lover of food and cooking, I include many scrumptious meals and some recipes in my novels and on my website.

webpage – Rothsteinsmysteries.com; Facebook – /Rothsteinsmysteries; Instagram – /rothsteinsmysteries; Bluesky – @tristarmysteries.bsky.social

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A Friday the 13th Horror Short Story: Claws by Christopher Farris ~ #Horror #Fri13thStories #Blog

The third of thirteen creepy tales of murder and mayhem on Friday the 13th… (and one of my favorites. I recommend you check out the other Beaver stories, Stripes and Blanks. He’s a psychopathic hoot :D)

Fun Fact:

Claws is a reimagining of a short story I wrote years ago. It was called Wild Things and focused on Elizabeth (the femme fatale from Claws,) her strained marriage, and the bear she built a creepy connection with.  You can find it at Coffin Bell, here: https://coffinbell.com/wild-things/. It is free to read. 

Find Christopher’s Friday the 13th story here…

Blurb:

Beaver went to the mountains to live in the peace. Unfortunately, he didn’t bring any with him. Now a mad creature is on the loose, the bodies are stacking up and the woman of his dreams is set to take the blame. Life never seems to get easier for Beaver but then, Beaver has never been easy on life. One way or another, he’ll claw his way to what he wants. He always does.

Excerpt:

She checked there weren’t nobody listening, you know with the kids in the house and all, then she leaned in and whispered, “Did you ever kill a man, Josiah?”

I got to say, I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t know what I expected, but not that. I considered lying but she had those eyes and they was practically undressing me. I throwed caution to the wind. I couldn’t help myself. I nodded, once, nervous.

She caught her breath, give a long sigh and leaned in closer. I could smell her faint perfume and feel the heat coming off her. “Who? More than one?” she asked and put her hand on my knee again. “Tell me.”

About the Author:

Christopher Farris lives in a very old, very small house in a very old, very small town nestled deep in a valley of the Boston Mountains of Northwest Arkansas. He is not a hillbilly, but he is trying. He has four well-adjusted children and the two best granddaughters available.

His horror novel, The Fountain, was published by The Wild Rose Press in January of 2021. His Christmas novel, Intersection: A Trucker’s Christmas Carol, was published in November of 2021. Both are available at Amazon.com as are his other Friday the 13th stories.

*** Find all the stories here: https://linktr.ee/fridaythe13thstories

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“10 Moments That Changed My Life” by Susie Black ~ New Release: Death by Pins and Needles #WRPbks #Blog

Please help me welcome author Susie Black with the moments that changed her life, and her latest release, Death By Pins and Needles.  

10 Moments That Changed My Life

  1. Getting my driver’s license was the moment I experienced tangible independence for the first time and it shaped the way I approached life. I learned to plan ahead, think proactively, and that with independence comes responsibility and ownership of ones decisions and actions. 
  2. Receiving my college diploma and graduating Magna Cum Laude was the moment that pride and a tremendous sense of accomplishment taught me to always reach for the stars and that nothing is impossible if you believe in yourself.
  3. Answering the phone call from my apparel sales rep dad asking me to come to Atlanta and take over a trade show when he was called away to deal with a family emergency changed everything in my entire life. It precipitated a challenging and unexpected lifestyle and career change, leaving my friends and comfort zone with a cross-country move from LA to Atlanta to a region that was completely different in every aspect from the one I had lived almost all my life in. But most important, I learned to trust my gut, take chances, and not be afraid to fail.
  4. My first solo road trip traveling the southern states after accepting the sales rep position my dad offered me was the beginning of a career where I successfully broke every glass ceiling in an historically male-dominated industry.
  5. The first entry I ever made to my daily journal as a sales exec would someday be the foundation of leveraging my apparel sales career into a successful writing gig. Those journal entries gave me the characters and stories to tell.
  6. Answering the phone call from my future husband and accepting a blind date with him set up by a mutual friend changed my life. A blind date was not something I was interested in, but my friend was so insistent, that I accepted out of sheer curiosity. By the end of the evening, I was glad I’d taken the call. Forty plus years later, I am still glad.
  7. My wedding day six months after my husband and I went out on our blind date changed my life in countless, wonderful ways. My mother always said to marry a man who makes you laugh every day. I did, and he still does.
  8. When the doctor put my newborn son into my arms for the first time, I was certain that my life was never going to be the same. And it wasn’t. Thank goodness. The awesome sense of responsibility and unconditional love that filled my heart was overwhelming and remains there to this day.
  9. When I left my son at his college dorm, I cried tears of joy mixed with anguish realizing my reward for doing a wonderful job of raising him was that he would not be living under my roof again.
  10. Signing my first publishing contract and then seeing my debut cozy mystery novel Death by Sample Size posted on Amazon the first time filled me with an unparalleled sense of accomplishment and pride. And proof positive that things happen for a reason, even when I didn’t always understand why. My Nana predicted when I began my career that the reason I became an apparel industry sales exec is because I was destined to write about my experiences. As usual, my wise Nana was right.

FREE GIVEAWAY:

Susie has a giveaway for each of you… CLICK HERE to get your FREE copy of her Swimwear Fit Guidebook.

(Link for Fit Guide: Please insert this link at the end of the post with the instruction to click it for a FREE swimwear fit guide.)

https://www.dropbox.com/s/7lerp4cy1al2j0l/CHOOSING%20THE%20RIGHT%20%20SWIMSUIT.pdf?dl=0

She gave ‘skeleton in the closet’ a whole new meaning.

BLURB: Who wanted Lissa Charney dead? The list was as long as your arm….but which one actually killed her? The last thing Mermaid Swimwear sales exec Holly Schlivnik expected to find when she opened the closet door was nasty competitor Lissa Charney’s battered corpse nailed to the wall. When Holly’s colleague is wrongly arrested for Lissa’s murder, the wise-cracking, irreverent amateur sleuth sticks her nose everywhere it doesn’t belong to sniff out the real killer. Nothing turns out the way she thinks it will as Holly matches wits with a heartless killer hellbent for revenge.

Excerpt:

I walked to Lissa’s in case God made a mistake, and by some miracle, she’d hung around. The Royal showroom lights were dark, but the internal ones leading to the offices blazed bright as a beacon. For giggles and squeaks, I pushed on Lissa’s showroom door. Remarkably, it opened. Hot Diggity Dog. Amazingly, the fabric Goddess covered my play. My envelope with the fabric swatches lay on the first workstation table. Now for the key, and I’d be all set.

“Lissa,” I called out, “It’s Holly from Mermaid. I came for my package. Thanks a bunch for accepting it. Listen, Patti left early and I forgot my mart key in my desk drawer at the factory. Can you give me my spare?” Dead silence. Weird. Maybe she’s on the phone with her office door closed?

“Lissa,” I funneled my hands around my mouth into a megaphone and yelled, “It’s Holly Schlivnik from Mermaid.”  Still a whole lotta dead air. God short-changed me in the height department at four feet nine inches tall, but the Good Lord compensated for it by blessing me with a strong set of pipes. Unless the woman was deaf as a post, no way she couldn’t hear me.

The clock said eight minutes left. Crap. Buyers in this industry are famous for keeping vendors waiting. My luck, I get the one who’s never late. I stuck my head out in the hall. Hallelujah. Lady Luck smiled down on me. No Sue Ellen. If the congestion goddess loved me, the Queen of Mean sat stuck in Friday night rush hour traffic with the rest of the homebound Angelinos.

Since shouting at the top of my lungs failed to get her attention, I went back to Lissa’s office. Lights on, but nobody home. Her beige leather purse sat on the desk with her keys on top of it. I jangled the chain. Lots of keys, but none of them mine. I slid my fingers over the grainy purse to move it out of the way, and my digits got coated with dust. Weird. I opened all the drawers and rooted around her desk, but no key. Her jacket lay haphazardly draped on her chair behind the desk. She obviously hadn’t left for the day, but I’d combed the place from one end to another and found no sign of Lissa. Where the Sam Hill could she be? Not in the showroom. Not in her office. Not in the kitchen. Not in the copier room.  In the ladies’ room? Abducted by aliens?  Hiding in a closet? I was out of options and time; so, for giggles and squeaks, I pulled open the doors to the enormous sample closet that stretched across the back wall and peered inside. Good news. I found Lissa Charney. The question was; did she have my key?

Buy link(s):

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Death-Needles-Holly-Swimsuit-Mystery-ebook/dp/B0BPLHRWJ7?tag=namespacebran246-20&keywords=death

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/death-by-pins-and-needles-susie-black/1142836329?ean=9781509246779

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/search?search=Death+by+Pins+and+Needles

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/search?q=Death+by+Pins+and+Needles&qid=GqIgEv6TpY

8-11-22

About Susie:

Named Best US Author of the Year by N. N. Lights Book Heaven, award-winning cozy mystery author Susie Black was born in the Big Apple but now calls sunny Southern California home. Like the protagonist in her Fashion & Foul Play Mystery Series, Susie is a successful apparel sales executive. Susie began telling stories as soon as she learned to talk. Now she’s telling all the stories from her garment industry experiences in humorous mysteries.

She reads, writes, and speaks Spanish, albeit with an accent that sounds like Mildred from Michigan went on a Mexican vacation and is trying to fit in with the locals. Since life without pizza and ice cream as her core food groups wouldn’t be worth living, she’s a dedicated walker to keep her girlish figure. A voracious reader, she’s also an avid stamp collector. Susie lives with a highly intelligent man and has one incredibly brainy but smart-aleck adult son who inexplicably blames his sarcasm on an inherited genetic defect.

Looking for more? Contact Susie at:

Social Media Links: https://linktr.ee/susieblack.com

Website: www.authorsusieblack.com

E-mail: mysteries_@authorsusieblack.com

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Mister 13 by Alicia Dean ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy Friday the 13th! It’s release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. Today, I’m pleased to welcome myself with my story, Mister 13…

 

Fun Fact:

Bride in hockey mask with meat cleaver

 

While writing this story, I researched the dates for past Friday the 13ths and used the actual date for each year that was mentioned. One of the dates I used was January 13, 1984…which happens to be the date I got married. And, it was on a Friday the 13th. And, we divorced nearly 13 years later…coincidence or were otherworldly forces at work? 😀 

*** Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents – grab them now before the price goes up!!! 

Alicia

 

Psychologist Giselle Bishop is treating a patient who suffers from friggatriskaidekaphobia, a fear of Friday the 13th. When he was younger, his family was murdered on Friday the 13th by an unknown killer dubbed Mister 13 by the media. Since then, he’s been terrified to leave his house on the dreaded date. She understands his fear because years earlier, her roommate fell victim to Mister 13.

With another Friday the 13th approaching, Giselle convinces him to overcome his fear by facing the very day that paralyzes him, so he reluctantly ventures out. But when she sees a news report that a young woman was found murdered by someone with the same MO as Mister 13, she understands she has made a grave error and her patient is right to believe he is in danger. But he’s not the only one, because now Mister 13 is coming after her.

Excerpt:

She answered the call, and Lydia cried out, “Did you hear what happened?”

Dread gripped her. “No, what is it? Are you okay?”

“Someone was killed…in your house. Yours and Darcy’s old house. The girl who lives there now was murdered. Tonight. Someone called it in to the media. Not even 911. They called the news station.”

The sentences rushed out, piling on top of one another in a panicked jumble.

“Oh my God,” Giselle gasped. “That’s horrible. Do they know who did it yet?”

“No,” Lydia said. “But I’m pretty sure it was Mister 13.”

“What? Why do you say that? Are the details the same?”

“I don’t know. They haven’t said much yet.  But, come on, Friday the 13th. At your old house. I just know it was him.”

Giselle grabbed the remote and flipped over to a local news channel. The sportscast was on, but the story scrolled along the bottom, ‘Breaking news, a young woman was found dead in her home after a tip was called in to our station. Details are sketchy at this time, but it appears the victim was stabbed multiple times. Police are not releasing whether they were connected, but thirteen years ago, a young woman was murdered in this same house by an unknown killer. Police suspect it was the work of the serial killer known as Mister 13. Again, we are unsure if this latest killing is by the same person. More details as they become available.’

“Oh God,” Giselle murmured. Her mind went to Everett. She’d finally convinced him to face his fears, to venture out on this dreaded date, and the first time he summons the courage to do so, another tragic murder happens.

“I’m sorry, Lydia. I’ve got to go. Let me know if you learn anything else. Talk to you soon.”

She hung up and dialed Everett. The call went straight to voicemail. “Everett, please call me as soon as you get this. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” She hung up without mentioning the murder. If he was out and heard about it, he’d be terrified.

Fear settled in the pit of her stomach. It was irrational to think something would happen to him…the murder had nothing to do with Everett, but rational or not, she couldn’t quell the worry. And she wouldn’t rest until she knew Everett was okay.

2017-author-photo-alicia-dean-color

 

Bio:

Alicia Dean began writing stories as a child. At age 10, she wrote her first ever romance (featuring a hero who looked just like Elvis Presley, and who shared the name of Elvis’ character in the movie, Tickle Me), and she still has the tattered, pencil-written copy.

Other than reading and writing, her passions are Elvis Presley (she almost always works in a mention of him into her stories) and watching a LOT of television, which she calls research so it doesn’t appear that she’s wasting time.

Website: https://aliciadean.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAliciaDean/

Twitter: @Alicia_Dean_

Instagram: AliciaDeanAuthor

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/alicia-dean

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/aliciamdean/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/468339.Alicia_Dean

 

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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Tormented Whispers by Krysta Scott ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy 2023! It’s almost release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. I will be sharing each story on my post, one per day. Today, I’m pleased to welcome Krysta Scott with her story, Tormented Whispers…

 

Fun Fact:

Route 66 hotel

Recently, I had the opportunity to stay in a refurbished motel on route 66 in Flagstaff, Arizona. I was thrilled. My eldest not so much. One of the differences between a motel and hotel is that the location of the door to your room is different. In a motel, the door opens to the sidewalk and parking lot. In a hotel, the door opens to a hallway inside the building.

My eldest didn’t like the exposed feeling of opening the door and stepping right outside. Also, the motel had a huge window facing the parking lot. This meant that anyone who walked by could look into our room. It was a bit unnerving. She insisted that my husband and I occupy the bed closest to the door. Anyone who has watched Schitt’s creek knows that this is the ‘murder bed’. If someone were to break in, the people in that bed will be killed first. I am very pleased she was so concerned for our welfare.

It didn’t help that there was an Embassy Suite right across route 66. We had stayed there last year enjoying the hot breakfast and complimentary cocktails. Some of her objections are raised by Megan at the beginning of the story. Below is a photo of the motel.

*** Pre-Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents!!! 

 

Krysta

Raelynn Carter used to hear voices as a child but she silenced them long ago. When her boyfriend unceremoniously dumps her, she and a group of her friends embark on a project to renovate an old hotel on route 66. Once there, she encounters a presence, and the voices start talking to her again– unloading their stories of torment, pain and longing.

Attempting to ignore them, she focuses her efforts into repairing the dilapidated hotel. But the voices become more insistent. Then someone dies. At first it looks like an accident but there is something more sinister lurking in the shadows. As the body count rises, Raelynn knows it’s only a matter of time before the evil comes for her.

Excerpt:

I backed away. Another scream pealed out from inside the room. Shit! Someone had gone inside. Tentatively I took a step forward. “Susan?”

No response. I leaned in and flicked on the light. As I did, the lights came on. A gust of wind rose from behind me pushing me across the threshold. The door slammed shut. I turned to wrench it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

A whimper came from the far-left corner. I edged around the bed. A small figure crouched shivering by the wall. “Hello? Can I help you?”

Her head snapped up with wide deer-in-the-headlight eyes. Curly brown hair barely touched her shoulders. She couldn’t be more than seventeen. A rough whisper escaped her lips. “You shouldn’t be here. He’s coming.”

“It’s ok,” As I spoke, I could see my breath. I shivered as I reached out to the girl. “He’s not here now. Why don’t we go outside where it’s warmer.”

She shook her head. “He won’t let me.”

“It’s ok, let me help you.”

The lights flickered. She looked up, her face crumpling into terror. “He’s here.”

I followed the track of her gaze but saw only the ceiling. When I turned back to the girl, she was gone. A quick scan of the bathroom revealed it was empty. A small tremor skittered up my spine. This was the second hallucination in less than an hour. It was time to leave. I rushed to the door, yanking as hard as I could.

A rumble of laughter filled the room. There is no escape!

I yanked harder. My heart hammered in my chest. But the door wouldn’t budge. My hands were so sweaty they slipped on the handle making it hard for me to grip it. Still, I yanked.

The laughter grew more intense until it was shuddering through me. The humming followed urging me to turn my head to the mirror. It glowed in the center. I closed my eyes refusing to do its bidding. It didn’t matter. My feet moved anyway, propelling me until I stood in front of the mirror. My arm flew up and my palm connected with the cold fractured surface. On their own my eyes opened. This time I didn’t see my reflection.

christy1-1

Bio:

Krysta lives in the southwest. She loves anything containing the elements of science fiction, horror and mystery. In addition to the Friday the 13th series, she is the author of a paranormal romance, Shadow Dancer

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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House on 13th by Dex Rivers ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy 2023! It’s almost release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. I will be sharing each story on my post, one per day. Today, I’m pleased to welcome Dex Rivers with his story, House on 13th…

 

Fun Fact:

Depositphotos_11133196_XL

 

I researched deadly, quick-acting poisons for the story, but they are surprisingly hard to obtain, so I had to use another murder method. If the authorities check my search history, I’m in big trouble.

*** Pre-Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents!!! 

Dex

 

Newlywed Linette Holmes is ecstatic to have found her Mr. Right, but she’s less than enthusiastic about moving into the home he shared with his first wife, who met an untimely end. However, she wants to make him happy, so she reluctantly agrees and moves in, ready to start her new life.

When her husband abandons her for a business trip, she’s stuck alone with his morose housekeeper. Soon, things start to go very wrong and she has a close call she barely escapes. She assumes it’s just an accident, but when the ‘accidents’ escalate, she can’t ignore that her near misses appear more calculated. Is the housekeeper trying to kill her or is something otherworldly at play? When a visitor is killed in the house, she decides it’s time to vacate the premises. But easier said than done. In the beginning, the house didn’t seem to want her there, but now it won’t let her leave.

Excerpt:

“You seem like a good person. I’m glad Brenton found somebody.”

“I’m sure he’s been lonely since he lost Gillian.”

Rex chuckled. “Oh, Brenton doesn’t allow himself to be lonely for long. It’s a shame about what happened to that girl.”

“You mean his wife?”

“No, the other one. Melody Delgado. Did you not hear about that?”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she said, “Hear about what?”

He winced. “I guess maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but it wouldn’t be too hard for you to find out.”

“Find out what? Please tell me what what’s going on.”

He hesitated for just a moment, then said, “Your husband was dating this nice little girl. Last May, she had a terrible accident. Right here at the house.”

Fear gripped her throat. “Accident? Is she okay?”

Rex gave a humorless chuckle. “I wouldn’t say she is. Poor girl is dead.”

Linette’s hands shook, and she nearly dropped her coffee cup. “How did she die?” The words trembled out of her.

“Seems she got disoriented and fell down the stairs. Broke her neck. They say she died instantly.”

Fell down the stairs? Regina’s doubts came to mind. Was she right in thinking that Brenton might have had something to do with his wife’s death? Surely the police wondered how two women could suffer accidental deaths in this man’s house. “Where was Brenton?”

“On a business trip. She was staying here at the house while he was gone. I met her a few times. Really nice girl.”

Dread tightened her stomach. “So the police cleared him?”

Rex frowned. “Yeah, the police definitely cleared him. He had a solid alibi he was in Chicago. You don’t suspect your husband of killing her, do you? Why, I know Brenton and there’s no way he’d do something like that.”

She forced a smile. “Of course not. I was just…”

They chatted for a few more minutes but Linette couldn’t recall anything they discussed. Her mind was racing with thoughts of two women who had been with Brenton both dying in this house. And now she had to live here. Chills raced over her flesh. Was she crazy or should she be scared?

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Bio:

I live on the East Coast where I spend my free time devouring horror novels. I enjoy them so much, I sometimes wonder if something is wrong with me… To be safe, I decided to channel my affinity for the macabre into writing about it rather than acting it out…you’re welcome.

Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B00OQ9WGGM/about

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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The Grimoire of Caligari by Stephen B King ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy 2023! It’s almost release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. I will be sharing each story on my post, one per day. Today, I’m pleased to welcome Stephen B King (NO, not THAT Stephen King – he’sthe Australian one.) with his story, The Grimoire of Caligari…

 

Fun Fact:

dark cloak in mysterious forest,wizard,sorcerer,illustration

After having 16 books published, I can honestly say I had the most fun I’ve ever had writing The Grimoire of Caligari. My loyal readers know that mostly I write serious psychological thrillers featuring serial killers. A study of the mind when it fractures, is a subject that has always fascinated me. A good friend of mine is a well renowned psychologist (though he works in high stress level recruitment, such as underground mining etc) and my youngest daughter has a degree in criminal psychology and justice (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree) – both have given me invaluable insights into varying psychosis. I think we would all agree, serial killers must be insane in some form, or another, wouldn’t we?  Mass murderers are ‘my thing,’ much to my wife’s chagrin, and I love writing about them.

In this story I was able to tell a tale not only steeped in my favorite subject, but I could also add the dark horror element of trying to reanimate the dead (a respectful nod to my more famous namesake) along with medieval history. Once I had the inspiration of Lucian Brufos’ struggle with deepest grief and guilt imaginable, the words flowed from me as if from a faucet I couldn’t turn off. It was as if they were coming through me, not from me; if that makes sense?

I believe that guilt can be one of the most powerful triggers for psychotic episodes, and poor Lucian blames himself entirely for the tragic death of his wife and twin daughters. Under such circumstances, who of us would not want to bring our loved ones back to life if we possibly could? When Lucian meets The Dark Man, who calls himself Jolly, (a character I have featured in two previous books: Glimpse, the Tender Killer, and Glimpse, the Angel Shot) he is flung headlong into the search for The Grimoire of Caligari. Caligari was a famous wizard who was burnt at the stake by the Catholic Church in Italy five hundred years before. Jolly assures Lucian he knows where the Grimoire had been buried, and that it contains the spells necessary to assist in a black magic ceremony to bring back Lucian’s wife and daughters from the grave. Lucian is more than willing to do anything to make that happen, despite a young girl who resembles an antique doll who repeatedly warns him not to, and that he will die if he continues.

The question for the reader is: Is Jolly a figment of Lucian’s troubled mind, or could he be some evil entity forcing him to comply?

*** Pre-Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents!!! 

 

Stephen

Ancient history lecturer Lucian Brufos has suffered the worst tragedy imaginable; his wife and twin daughters were killed in a car accident leaving him alone and so depressed he attempts to end his life. When he wakes he refuses to speak and is committed to a psychiatric ward for evaluation where he meets The Dark Man who calls himself Jolly. Jolly assures Lucian he can help bring Lucian’s family back from the grave, but to do so, he must find one of the world’s most famous wizards in history’s book of spells, The Grimoire of Caligari.

Excerpt:

“Lucian,” he said softly that first time he spoke in his sickly syrupy voice. “Lucian, can you hear me?”

I turned slowly, feeling some invisible hand tugging on my forehead, so I had to look at him. He was sitting on a straight-backed chair alongside me, which I don’t recall being there before. He wore a long black jacket, the kind a pilgrim father might wear, a black shirt with a black string bow tie. I glanced down and noted his pants were black, as were the western-style boots with scuffed toes. He held what looked like an ancient Bible, though I didn’t see a cross embossed on its cover, so it may not have been a holy book. “There’s no need to speak if you don’t want to; just think of any words you might have and project them. I can hear your thoughts just as easily as if you speak, so don’t fret. Or you can nod for yes and shake for no if you prefer. Is that all right with you, Lucian?”

I recall, with absolute clarity, that I turned back to the window and thought, please, just go away and leave me alone.

And then, something weird happened. It was as clear as a bell tolling out midnight. I heard him speak, but this time, not with my ears, but in my mind. “Oh yes, Lucian, I could leave you alone to suffer in your silent world of pain and angst. But then, if I did, I wouldn’t be able to show you how you could be reunited with Connie and the twins, could I? There is a way I can help you do that, but the question is, are you brave enough to converse with me to find out how to reanimate their corpses?”

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Bio:

I left school very early to join a rock band, and spent a few years writing poems, short stories and music. I’ve won two short story writing competitions, had poems published, and enjoyed being a long-haired rock guitarist before life got in the way and I settled down, married and had children. I’ve owned my own businesses and managed large vehicle sales dealerships and observed people from all walks of life. It is these observations which has aided in creating characters. Contact me at: steve@stephen-b-king.com. Tell me if you think Jolly is real……..

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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The Thirteenth Victim by Mary Coley ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy 2023! It’s almost release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. I will be sharing each story on my post, one per day. Today, I’m pleased to welcome Mary Coley with her story, The Thirteenth Victim…

 

Fun Fact:

 

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I spent the night as a guest in the house I’ve written about, and decided it would be a locale for future stories! Spirits are lurking everywhere.  

*** Pre-Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents!!! 

Mary

Serial killer Zander Murphee’s hunt for his Thirteenth Victim gets derailed when he moves into a Tulsa mansion and the neighbors come calling. 

Excerpt:

As the elevator car inched upward, Zander studied the interior. Padded leather walls on three sides, stained carpet on the floor. The elevator jerked to a stop.

The door remained closed. He punched the OPEN button. Nothing. He punched TWO again. The elevator twitched. 

He punched ONE hoping the contraption would return to the first floor of the house. The low hum of the motor didn’t change. 

Sweat trickled through his eyebrows and into his eyes. His vision blurred. He blinked and peered at the inspection sticker again. Now it appeared to show an inspection date of fifty years ago, not last month. He rubbed his eyes and they stung with his perspiration. 

The elevator lurched. The lightbulb in the sconce flickered once, twice, three times and went out. 

“Freaking elevator. Help!”

He pounded on the wall even though he knew Desiree was long gone. He punched on the flashlight feature of his cell phone and shone it on the elevator’s control panel. He punched each of the keys with no result. The elevator didn’t even twitch. 

Was there an exit panel on the roof? He shone the flashlight up.

A grinning head hung suspended in space above him. A drop of drool eased over the bottom lip of the apparition and fell past his face to the stained carpet at his feet. A wave of  cold air passed over him. He froze in place. More drool cascaded down from the mouth of the distorted wide-eyed face. 

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Bio:

Mary Coley usually writes mysteries. As an early reader with a voracious reader father, she was exposed to horror early on through Edgar Allan Poe, HP Lovecraft and Stephen King. She says that her story, The Thirteenth Victim, was easy to write, and “felt like coming home” in many ways. She recalls that her first penned stories in middle school were horror stories.

Coley set her story in Tulsa, OK, where she has lived for more than 25 years. Her character, Zander Murphee, is an antique dealer and an undiscovered serial killer. Intending to continue his murderous pursuits in a new locale, he relocates to Tulsa and buys an historic oil mansion with the help of Desiree Smythe, a gorgeous realtor who is assisting with a for-sale-by-owner house.

Both the mansion and Desiree meet all his expectations, but all is not as it seems. Zander encounters unwanted visitors to his home on the day he moves in, including insects, rodents, and—he refuses to believe it—ghosts.

Coley has eight published mysteries, a non-fiction children’s book and numerous short stories to her credit. In 2018 she won the Tony Hillerman Award from New Mexico/Arizona books, and was awarded the Oklahoma Book Award for Fiction in 2022 for her mystery, Blood on the Mother Road. Visit her website at https://www.marycoley.com .

The Thirteenth Victim  will appear as a Friday the 13th Story, releasing January 13, 2023 on Amazon as an ebook, and in the anthology of the same name which includes 13 creepy stories by 13 authors.

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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The Surrogate by Brenda Clark Thomas ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy 2023! It’s almost release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. I will be sharing each story on my post, one per day. Today, I’m pleased to welcome Brenda Clark Thomas with her story, The Surrogate

Fun Fact:

horror and creepy ward room in the hospital with blood .3D rendering

I got the idea for my story after I did research on abandoned asylums. I learned that some of those places had back exits where they rolled coffins down a tunnel and into waiting hearses in order for the patients not to see how many people were dying. 

*** Pre-Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents!!! 

Brenda

 

When Heather’s sister goes missing, she enters a photo contest to pay for a detective, but gets trapped in the abandoned sanatorium she’s photographing. An apparition with information appears but refuses to share until Heather agrees to do something she’s never dared to do.

Excerpt:

Ashley ran through the front doors, picked her way down the cleared stairs, and into the morgue. The flashlight’s beam hit the wall, and then the plaster littered floor. It moved in an arc and lit the bag and tripod. She swept the beam across the room. The camera lay on its side by the medicine cabinet. She walked over and picked it up.

The morgue door slammed shut.

Screaming, she ran to it, yanked the metal handle, and pounded. “Help! Help! I can’t get out!”

She raced to the window and climbed up on the chair. The police car, fire truck, and ambulance bounced down the road and out of sight.

How could they leave her like this? But then Ronnie Carpenter wasn’t the brightest. He was probably too busy trying to get in front of that firetruck with his lights and siren to think of anything else.

She sat beside the rucksack and started to cry. Her parents thought she was spending the night with Heather. No one would realize she was missing until tomorrow. For now, she was stuck in the basement.

Wait, the bum had escaped through the coffin chute, so maybe she could get out that way too. But what if he were hiding in there? Or there were snakes?

She swept the flashlight across the room and shuddered at the blood-smeared cement. Three black feathers lay in a pile. Someone performed voodoo in this room.

The camera came on all by itself. She picked it up, then stared in disbelief. The preview screen showed a transparent hand and fingers touching the basement wall.

The camera flipped to the next shot of a ghostly child barely discernable in the gloom.

The picture changed again. This time the face of the snarling bum with wicked eyes glared at her.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

She switched the camera off and sat listening to the wind rattling the leaves outside the hole in the window. Clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering, she wrapped her arms around herself. She’d have to go through the tunnel, even if he were out there somewhere. It was better than staying here.

Far down the coffin chute, the rusty spring creaked as the door opened. Footsteps limped down the shaft.

Step. Slide. Step. Slide.

The bum jumped down into the room.

She swung the flashlight’s beam onto the man. A dirty, blood-soaked rag covered one eye.

He slapped his palm with a pipe. “Brandon said you was purty. Yessir, He was right. My little blondie.”

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Bio:

Brenda Clark Thomas is the 2020 fiction runner-up of the prestigious Poets and Writers Maureen Egen Writers Exchange Award. She writes speculative fiction with a literary bent. Most recently, she’s concentrated on writing horror. Her flash fiction, “The Fire Man,” is slated to appear in a Crystal Lake Publishing anthology soon.

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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Strangers on a Street by Tamrie Foxtail ~ A Friday the 13th Story Series ~ #Fridaythe13th #Blog #Fri13thStories

Happy 2023! It’s almost release day for a series of horror short stories revolving around Friday the 13th. I will be sharing each story on my post, one per day. Today, I’m pleased to welcome Tamrie Foxtail with her story, Strangers on a Street

Fun Fact:

Night train

 

There’s a train that runs through my town around ten at night and occasionally (though with less predictability) in the mid-morning. On the one hand I love the sound of the train, on the other, there’s a little, macabre corner of my mind that waits for the sound of a crash.

*** Pre-Order the Friday the 13th stories for only 99 cents!!! 

Tamrie

Amy Lee dreams of escaping her brutal husband. Following a chance encounter in a grocery store her dream becomes a reality. Or has it become a nightmare? The stranger down the street is threatening to turn over evidence that she’s guilty of murdering her own husband unless Amy helps rid him of his wife.
Can Amy escape a madman’s threats? Or will she be forced to resort to murder to keep the freedom she’s only recently gained?

 

A Friday the 13th Short Story: 13 authors ~ 13 suspenseful stories. Murder and mayhem on Friday the 13th… Find each story in the series on Amazon.

Excerpt:

“Prison. Such a nasty place. And of course, they’ll think you murdered your husband so you could collect the life insurance. You’ll lose the money. When you get out of prison, you’ll have nothing. Except a record, of course. Such a pity.”

“The police will never believe I killed him.”

“Of course, they will. If they start to think the accident that killed your husband might not have been an accident…they’ll start to investigate. They’ll start asking who would have had reason to kill him. The spouse is always the first suspect. When I tell them I saw him hit you they’ll start checking into the number of times you’ve been in the ER. They’ll start looking at who he spent time with. They’ll come up with Maddie Crown. They’ll check her alibi and her husband’s of course. They’ll come up with a theory that you either found out about his lover—perhaps he told you he was going to leave you for her—they’ll come up with three motives.” He held up one finger.

“One, you found out about the affair and killed him.”

He held up a second finger. “Two, you killed him to end the abuse.”

A third finger joined the first two. “Three, you murdered your husband in order to collect the life insurance.” He shrugged. “Or perhaps all three. It’s simple. You waited by the tracks and flagged him down. You hit him with something in order to stun him or render him unconscious. It didn’t take strength to get the car from the RR crossing to the tracks. You inherit the house, the life insurance. You get out of an abusive marriage. You have plenty of motive. I have none. Just like you have no motive to murder my wife, while I’ll inherit plenty of life insurance, the house, etcetera.”

He stood and slipped the bracelet into his pocket. “I’ll be in touch, Amy.”

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Bio:

Tamrie Foxtail was raised in the sunshine state. She married the best man she ever met, an Okie who brought her to the Sooner State.

She loves books, carousels, scrapbooking, and coffee. She works with the special education program in her local school district.

Find all 13 stories at this link: A Friday the 13th Story #3

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