Tag Archives: Murder mystery

Author Interview with Patricia McAlexander ~ The Student in Classroom 6 #RomanticSuspense

Please help me welcome today’s guest, Patricia McAlexander… 

 

Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?  

I grew up in Johnstown, New York, a town of about 11,000 in the foothills of the Adirondacks. I lived for a time in New York City and Madison, Wisconsin, attending graduate schools, and in Denver, Colorado, where I taught at an extension of the University of Colorado. I now live in Athens, Georgia, where I moved with my husband when he took a position in the University of Georgia’s English Department—and soon I taught there myself. Our grown-up son lives and works in Atlanta. I’ve had various much loved pets throughout my life—a turtle, a guinea pig, a cat. And there were the dogs. I grew up with a cocker spaniel named Rusty (one of my first words was ‘Russ,”) and later a beagle named George. Here in Athens there was Daisy, a poodle, and Peanut, a dachshund. Right now, however, I’m “between pets.”

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

The genre of The Student in Classroom 6, like that of my first two published novels,  is romantic suspense. I chose romance because love is something most of us need and hope for in our lives—look at the themes of songs, movies, literature.  Now, in these difficult times, we need such themes more than ever. Also, romance can involve personal growth, something I’m interested in as a teacher. In my fiction, I portray individuals further developing their own values and identities as they discover love. I included the suspense (in this novel, a murder mystery) to add extra drama to the romance. 

Was there anything unusual, any anecdote about this book, the characters, title, process, etc, you’d like to share? 

A specific event inspired this novel. I live on an historic street in Athens, Georgia, lined with old houses and huge, old trees. One night my husband and I came out of our house to find the road and sidewalk in front of it completely blocked by gigantic magnolia limbs. Part of the ancient tree across the street had split off and fallen. The city cleaned up the road, but a private tree service had to come and take down the dangerous remaining portion of the tree. From our porch we had a front row seat, watching the drama of the tree removal and the skilled men up in the bucket and at its base taking it down. That event inspired me to create one of the main characters in The Student in Classroom 6—Tyler McHenry, the young arborist taking Katherine Holiday’s continuing education course. 

What is the most difficult thing about writing a book? What was the most difficult thing about this one in particular?

Fort me, the most difficult thing about writing a book is accurately portraying situations and actions I’m not familiar with. I do a lot of research, a lot of Googling, to find answers to questions that arise. For example, for The Student in Classroom 6, I researched the arborist profession—I even read an instruction manual on operating bucket trucks—and interviewed the owner of a local business, New Urban Forestry, who answered my questions and let me come with his team to one of their work sites.

Do you have another occupation, other than writer? If so, what is it and do you like it? 

I’m now retired, but I taught literature and writing at the college level—first as an instructor at the University of Colorado, then as teaching assistant at the University of Wisconsin, and finally as a professor going through the tenure and promotion process at The University of Georgia. In all these places, one thing stayed the same: I loved working with students.

What was your first job?

In the nineteenth and much of the twentieth century, my hometown, Johnstown, New York, was a center of the glove-making industry.  I worked in a glove factory for two summers while I was a college undergraduate. Maybe someday I’ll write a novel  about those experiences. It would be an historical novel—according to some sources, these novels are about a time period at least 25 years before the book was written.”(It’s hard to believe, but novels set in 1987 would thus be considered historical.) The glove factories have all closed now. 

Have you written any other books that are not published? 

I’ve written Second Wives, an historical novel based on my ancestors who emigrated from Baden (now part of modern Germany) to New York in 1850. It is about my widowed great-great-grandfather, Martin Kornmeyer, who sold all his belongings and, with his seven children and a servant, Rosa, sailed from Rotterdam on the Jane E. Williams, arriving in the New York harbor on October 7. He married Rosa, bought land in Boonville, New York, and farmed, as did his oldest son. The novel goes on to describe the life of Martin’s granddaughter, my grandmother, who was twice married. I’ve visited the cemeteries where Martin and Rosa and my grandmother’s two husbands are buried and the farm where my grandmother grew up. I’ve just returned from a cruise on the Rhine—tracing the route the original family surely traveled by barge to reach Rotterdam. Second Wives has not yet been published. I say “not yet,” as I hope someday it will be, and in the meantime,  I continue to learn more about these ancestors and revise it.

Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination? 

Many of the characters in my novels are at least in part based on real people. In The Student in Classroom 6, Tyler’s mother, a strong woman who home-schooled Tyler, is inspired by my own mother. Also woman with a strong personality, Mom was my high school Latin teacher, and before that she homeschooled a physically handicapped girl who at that time could not attend the high school in person. Just as Tyler’s mother was a contrast to his arborist father, my intellectual mother was a contrast to my more pragmatic father, a coach and teacher of what was then called “industrial arts.”  Of course, my English teacher protagonist, Katherine Holiday. is based in part on myself.

What do your friends and family think of your writing? 

They are some of my biggest fans, and I appreciate them greatly. 

How did you come up with the title? 

I thought the title “The Student in Classroom 6” reflected both the suspense and the romance of the novel. There has been a murder on the campus of The University of Georgia, and for all anyone knows, the murderer might be a student—even one of the students in protagonist Katherine Holiday’s continuing education class, which meets in Classroom 6. And in the back of that classroom there is that the sexy, intelligent young man to whom she is strongly attracted.

How much of the book is realistic?  

Much of The Student in Classroom 6 is grounded in reality, drawing on my experiences teaching at the University of Georgia and living in Athens. At the same time, of course, I tweaked that reality to advance my plot. For example, Katherine teaches adult continuing education classes, but by 2009, the year most of this novel takes place, such classes for UGA credit were no longer offered—and even when they had been, they were not part of faculty members’ regular assignments.  The campus murder takes place near an outside elevator with a glass through which the killer apparently saw his victim descending. An outside elevator does exist at UGA’s Psychology-Journalism building, but it has no window.

Blurb:

Although a faculty member has been killed on campus and the murderer is still at large, English instructor Katherine Holiday never suspects the criminal might be one of her students. In fact, there’s a man in her adult evening class she wishes she could know better.

Seeing no need for a college degree, Tyler McHenry, a partner in his father’s successful tree service, writes fiction for his own pleasure. No one at the University needs to know his personal reasons for enrolling in a first-year composition course. Still, he finds himself fascinated by the pretty teacher, who believes his writing should be published.

Excerpt:

“You know, Ms. Holiday,” Tyler said as he walked with her back to her porch, “it was against regulations to bring you up in the bucket. Only accredited personnel are supposed to go up.” He paused. “Just like it’s probably against regulations for University instructors to get too friendly with students in their class.”

“It is,” she said, feeling somehow bold. “But if you can break a rule, I can. Would you like to come in for a beer?”

“That may not be so wise. I am an owner of this tree business and an owner of the bucket truck. I was not worried about breaking that rule tonight. I knew it was safe for you when I brought you up in the bucket. That is not the way it is with you and the University.  And you don’t know—” he hesitated.

“Know what?”

He smiled a little, as if joking. “Whether you’d be safe alone in your house with me.”

Buy links: 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Student-Classroom-6-Patricia-McAlexander-ebook/dp/B09THQ2FDT/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1648132789&sr=1-1

Barnes and Noble (includes Nook):  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-student-in-classroom-6-patricia-mcalexander/1141068087?ean=9781509241750

i-books: http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/isbn9781509241767

About the Author: 

Patricia McAlexander is from upstate New York. She has a bachelor’s degree from the University of New York at Albany, a master’s from Columbia University, and a doctorate from The University of Wisconsin, Madison, all in English She is now living in Athens, Georgia, with her Southerner husband, whom she met as a graduate student in Wisconsin. As a teenager, Pat wrote fiction for her friends, but she turned to academic writing with her career. Now retired from the University of Georgia, she has renewed her interests in photography, travel, and history—and in writing fiction.

Website: https://patriciamcalexander.weebly.com

Email: mcalexanderpatricia@gmail.com

Facebook: facebook.com/patriciamcalexanderwriter/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/PatMcAlexWriter

Instagram: www.instagram.com/patriciamcalexander/

 

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Filed under Author Blog Post, New Release

Author Interview with Beth Henderson & New Release: UNTIL . . . / Historical Romantic Mystery #AHAgrp #Blog #WRPbks

Please help me welcome today’s guest, Beth Henderson…

Good morning, Beth. Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?

My hometown is Dayton, Ohio, but I currently live in the Bourbon Capital of the World, the small town of Bardstown, Kentucky, where we do indeed have a lot of bourbon distillers and acres upon acres of tall barrel houses where things are aging. Never had any children of my own, though I reared two stepsons for ten years, so family these days is my three brothers and their extended broods, plus the eldest of my stepsons out in Washington State. Not a pet person, though I prefer dogs to cats.

Where did you get the idea for the title of your book? 

UNTIL . . . is my latest American West historical and it’s also a mystery. This is my 8th historical but my first with The Wild Rose Press. The title comes from a song in a movie, KATE AND LEOPOLD, which Sting sings. It gave me something the couple in the book had in the past said to each other even though they thought they’d never see each other again.

What was the most difficult thing about writing UNTIL…?

The most difficult part to write was the love scenes, which I actually hate writing to begin with, but this time my heroine was in jail for nearly the entire book and the hero is popping in an out of the sheriff’s office to ask her questions as he investigates who killed the man she is accused of killing. Still managed to sort out how to supply two bedroom scenes though!

What was your first job?

As I disappointed my mother by deciding halfway through senior year that I didn’t want to go to college (though I went back at 38 and picked up a BA in History then a MA in English Composition and Rhetoric), my first job was extremely boring. The only “skill” I left high school with (because I was on the college prep track) was typing. However, the first job was at the local newspaper in the classified ad department where I answered phones and had to count how many ads there were under each category each day. Most boring job in the world!

What do you want readers to come away with after they read your book? 

Hopefully, readers who pick up UNTIL . . . will be happily fixated on Tal Hammond, my hero, and yet sad that, while he saves Letty Kittridge, the heroine, from the noose, he can’t save the true killer even though the man dying was an accident. Oh, and that they can’t wait for the next story to hit the stands…or go back and pick up one or more of my previous historicals, naturally. I read for entertainment, so I also write to entertain, and hope I’m successful in supplying that to readers.

Would you rather have a bad review or no review?

Personally, if I can’t give a book at least a 3, through preferably a 4 or 5 star review, I don’t leave a review. Reviews have a reader’s personal taste involved and if the story wasn’t to that taste, then I’d prefer no review to a bad one because they don’t usually read in that niche.

What genre have you never written that you’d like to write?

Truthfully, once upon a time I would have said “urban fantasy” but as I now have an urban fantasy series being published under a different pseudonym, I’ve already made that wish come true. Which means, I no longer have a genre I like that I don’t already write in.

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

This is a tough one because, frankly, I do terrible things to a lot of my characters. But I wouldn’t mind being the heroine in one of the romantic comedies I wrote back in the 1990s. Maybe Bren or Roni or Roxie as I’d love to run off with Fletch, Tim or Nate in their stories, which are out and out comedies.

Have you written any other books that are not published?

Yup, the first in a trilogy of Weird West Steampunk stories is still waiting to be discovered by a publisher.

If you could spend time with a character from your book, whom would it be? And what would you do during that day? (PG-13 please 🙂

I’d always run off with the hero. He’s the reason I write any story in the first place. And we’d do whatever he wants to do! Men in real life just haven’t worked out well for me, but the heroes in my stories, always do.

What do your friends and family think of your writing?  

They’re proud of me since I followed my dream. Particularly my 1st ex-husband (still a close friend) and my eldest niece who has a “shrine” of every book I’ve written, even those I renamed when I got the rights back and reissued them as Indies. But she doesn’t read the paper versions because she doesn’t want to crack the spine, so she buys a Kindle version as well to actually read.

Who is the most famous person you have ever met?

This is sort of a toss-up question as I’ve met both Dolly Parton and Ann-Margret. I used to work in radio (Dolly in her dressing room at a concert) and lived in Las Vegas where I met the late Ann-Margret at an after show cocktail party.

Life. Death. Fate has its own agenda.

Blurb:

When Talmadge Hammond drifts into the Idaho mining camp he has no intention of using his law degree. He’s there for whiskey and the gold he can win at cards. Instead, he must save the life of the woman who’d once vowed to love him until…

Noletta Kittridge begins that day covered in a man’s blood and accused of murder. She has sinned to stay alive. Redemption can come only by giving her life to save the person who accidentally killed the man. Even Tal’s reappearance in her life can’t revive Letty’s will to live.

Determined to keep her from the hangman’s noose, Tal must either convince her to tell who did kill the victim or solve the mystery himself. If he fails, he and Letty will finally reach that unvoiced destination beyond until…

Excerpt:

Although the men dragged the half-clad woman along, their grips tight and threatening, she wasn’t fighting or resisting them physically or verbally. She looked beaten, not in body but in spirit. And yet, when she stumbled, the toe of her wear-marred but neatly laced-up boot catching in the cloying mud, pitching her forward out of the men’s custody, the crowd gasped. Some stepped farther back to avoid physical contact. The carrion seekers in the mob pressed nearer, set to rend her vulnerability.

They hurled insults at her. She suffered the name calling, if it could be called such. The style of her clothing—or lack of it—and the building itself proclaimed the truth of her profession. She was the whore they called her.

Then he heard the new word, the word that was at first only whispered before it gained a more daring voice: murderess. One of the men yanked her upright, uncaring whether he hurt her or not. It was only then, when she raised her head, her chin, in a manner any grand dame reared in the top tier of Eastern society would recognize, that he knew her.

It couldn’t be. And yet, when she swept the gathered crowd, the gaze she turned on them was the one she had learned at her mother’s knee. At her grandmother’s table and at enumerable dinners, balls, and afternoon teas in Boston.

Tal watched in stunned amazement as the once Honorable Miss Noletta Kittridge shrugged free of the man’s hand and with a back straightened by years of deportment, stepped from the meager shelter of the porch, moved beyond the hungry, insult-hurling crowd, and strode on her own toward the camp jail.

Buy links

#Kindle https://www.amazon.com/Until-Beth-Henderson-ebook/dp/B08XV12YWY/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Until+.+.+.+beth+henderson&qid=1614943779&sr=8-1

Amz trade https://www.amazon.com/Until-Beth-Henderson/dp/150923554X/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=Until+.+.+.+beth+henderson&qid=1614943854&sr=8-3

#Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/until-beth-henderson/1138919963?ean=2940162596769

BnN trade https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/until-beth-henderson/1138919963?ean=9781509235544

Bio:

BETH HENDERSON spent a dozen years writing and rewriting the same three books during the 1980s, but all those rewrites paid off via a romance spinning career now 30+ years long. Romantic-comedy and historical romantic adventure are her forte. She also writes urban fantasy PI mystery comedy and Weird West Steampunk, 1920s Dieselpunk and Victorian Gaslamp mystery comedy under different pennames. Between all the genres she’s danced through there have been a total of 32 novels (Until… the 32rd), 9 novellas, and 15 short stories (the 15th in an anthology releasing July 1st). She is also a regular fiction writing workshop presenter at Savvy Authors and various online RWA chapters and the author of How To Write a Funny Mystery by Beth Daniels, her real name!

Social media links: http://bit.ly/2GvFyog on Facebook 

Twitter @Beth__Henderson, website: www.4TaleTellers.com

 

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Blood and Breakast by me…Alicia Dean. :) A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Happy Friday the 13th!! Welcome to the thirteenth and final post about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share my Friday the 13th Short Story, “Blood and Breakfast” – Now available for sale for $1.99 or #FREE on #KindleSelect

AND…be sure to check out our contest:

Enter to win 13 FREE books brought to you by our 13 Friday the 13th authors. See contest link HERE for details.

Fun Fact:

I was plotting my story and trying to figure out why a normal family man would suddenly snap and murder his family. I realized that hallucinations could cause people to do crazy things, so I researched what could make people hallucinate. I discovered that the plant, jimson weed, can cause serious hallucinations. I also wanted to incorporate some kind of an authentic local legend in my story, so I researched legends in various states and came across the Devil’s Footrock in Rhode Island.  I was able to mesh the two–jimson weed and the Devil’s Footrock–to come up with how the husband/father in my story lost his mind and killed his family. It’s so much fun when ideas click and make a story come together. Here’s a photo of Devil’s Foot Rock:

Cool, right? You can learn about the legend surrounding the footprint by reading my story. Or, you can just google it 🙂

Now, more about Blood and Breakfast…

Blurb:

Determined to boost the sagging ratings of her internet radio show, “A Dark Place,” murder junkie Sasha Gillette checks into the Talley House Bed and Breakfast in North Kingston, Rhode Island. She and her co-host plan to broadcast an episode about the murders that took place there thirteen years earlier on a Friday the 13th, when a man butchered his entire family.

Not long after Sasha arrives, the other guests begin to disappear. Has a killer from the past resurfaced or is there a copycat on the loose?

One of the lone survivors, Sasha finds herself trapped with a sadistic killer and, suddenly, murder isn’t as much fun as she thought.

Excerpt:

The bedside lamp glowed, but the room was cast in shadows. The door to the balcony stood open, and the sheer drapes fluttered in the cool breeze. Juliana wrapped her arms around her body and strode over to close the sliding glass doors.

She paced the wooden floor, clenching and unclenching her fists. “The bitch. The little whore.” A knot formed in her throat, and she swiped at the tears streaking her cheeks. “And, the sorry son of a bitch. How could he? On our honeymoon?”

She continued to pace and curse, then took her phone from the nightstand and fired off a text to Bradley.

Sleep on the fucking couch tonight, you sorry piece of shit. I don’t want to see your face.

For a brief moment, she regretted sending it and wished she could take it back. But that lasted only a moment. His return text shattered her heart.

Fine by me. Fuck off.

The sobs that had been building broke free. She dropped to the bed and covered her face in her hands. Her soul felt like it was ripping in two. How did things go so wrong so fast? She thought he loved her. That he would fight for her. Instead, the first slut he encountered, he became a cheating asshole.

A sound penetrated her consciousness, and she sniffled back her tears. The door swung inward. In spite of her fury, her heart lifted. She stood and faced the door as she waited for Bradley to enter. Should she play it cool and make him beg? Or should she forgive him and put this behind them. Start anew?

She took a step toward the door as he entered, then froze. The man standing inside the room was not Bradley. She knew this because he was taller than Bradley, bigger. Besides, why would Bradley be wearing a ski mask?

“Who—who are you?” Her voice quivered. “What do you want?”

He stalked across the room and clapped a gloved hand over her mouth. With his other hand, he gripped her neck and squeezed. She tried to speak but could only make a gurgling sound. Her skin tightened with fear, and her stomach quivered. Terror seized her insides. She grabbed his wrists, clawing at his flesh, trying to loosen his grip. Her hands, slippery with sweat, couldn’t get a good hold.

In the murky semi-darkness, something metallic flashed in her vision. Oh God…a knife.

His hot breath wafted over her neck as he whispered into her ear, “We’re going for a walk. Make one sound, and I’ll slice you open from neck to navel.”

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Fatal Legacy by Krysta Scott… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Happy Friday the 13th!! Welcome to the twelfth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Krysta Scott’s “Fatal Legacy” – Now available for sale for $1.99 or #FREE on #KindleSelect

AND…be sure to check out our contest:

Enter to win 13 FREE books brought to you by our 13 Friday the 13th authors. See contest link HERE for details.

 

Fun Fact:

When I was a child I used to visit an arboretum. I loved the forests, gardens, and grasslands. The only thing it didn’t have was a hedge maze. It should have had one. So I gave the arboretum in Fatal Legacy a hedge maze and let my characters run wild in them.

Blurb:

Veronica Wiseman wants nothing more than a quiet life as an appellate attorney But. a serial killer is on the loose in her small town, destroying everything she holds dear. The people she cares about are in danger, and her childhood memories have turned dark. She soon learns that her sister’s death was not an accident and that her husband cannot be trusted.

As she tries to make sense of the tangled mess her life has become, a murderer draws closer. And it appears she is next on his kill list.

Excerpt:

Skeletal fingers of lightning crossed the sky, illuminating her path. For a moment, she feared she was running in the wrong direction. Then she saw it. The small indentation in the farthest hedge. Encouraged, she sped up. Her feet slipped on the gravel, and she stumbled into the bushes. She grabbed onto the slender branches, attempting to gain traction, but her knees buckled, and she swayed into the bush. Steadying herself, she leaned into the fullest part of the bush and pushed off. She stumbled to the center of the path—just as a large blade shoved through.

“Oh my, that was close, wasn’t it?” The eerie voice mocked her.

Gasping, she ran, the frightening laughter following her down the pathway.

Too close.

Adrenaline fueled her with renewed purpose. She flew across the gravel. The narrow passage loomed ahead. A place where the bushes didn’t quite grow together at the corner. Not usually noticeable to an adult but obvious to a twelve-year-old child, crawling on her belly in an attempt to hide from her sisters. Still there. Her breath whooshed from her in relief. It was just as she remembered.

“What are you doing there, Lorelei?” That chuckle again.

It sent icy shards over her skin.

“Had enough? Stymied?”

Her hand flew to her mouth, and she froze. It was like he was right behind her instead of on the other side of a line of thick shrubs.

She fell on her hands and knees. Answering him would be a futile effort. He already knew where she was, and it would be worse to let him know what she was doing. Grabbing the nearest branch, she dragged herself into the small gap between the bushes. Her hips hit a higher branch, wedging her body between the ground and shrub. Stuck! She couldn’t go any farther. The last time she’d attempted this she wasn’t even in a training bra. She’d been so thin she could slide through a leaky sieve. Now, puberty had endowed her with full hips. Her heart thudded.

She had to make it through the opening. Her life depended on it. She tugged harder. With a sickening scrape along the gravel, she moved a little farther. Biting her lip, she slipped along the mud in slow motion—trapped in one of those nightmares where you can’t run. She needed more time.

 

Bio:

Krysta Scott has always been a daydreamer, imagining worlds far away with happy endings. When she was in fifth grade, she was so caught up in fantasy she earned the dubious distinction of being named the girl who daydreams the most. The award for this questionable honor was a colorful transparent plastic poster made to look like stained glass. It was very cool. Given her flights of fancy, it came as no surprise to her family when she announced she was going to be an actress. Unfortunately, her pursuit into theater didn’t last long, because she was too withdrawn and shy to exhibit any talent in this area. Left with no other choice but to pursue a more practical avocation, she decided to major in psychology and then go to law school. Not able to let go of the worlds she created in her head, she returned to writing and was very excited when the Wild Rose Press contacted her first book.

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Shattered Reflections by Tamrie Foxtail… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the eleventh of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Tamrie Foxtail’s “Shattered Reflections” – Now available for pre-order…releasing tomorrow, Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

The idea for the ruins of the family home came from a place we used to hang out as teens. It was an old, abandoned house in a small wooded area. The windows and doors were long gone. There was a big hole where a septic tank had been. We had a friend from another neighborhood visiting. We took her there one night. There was a full moon. I told her the place was haunted. The house had been abandoned after an entire family was murdered and the hole in the ground was where they had been buried. My friend, Carol, was nodding her head, confirming everything I said and adding details here and there. We frightened her so much, she took off down the path and refused to come back. No matter how much we tried, we never could convince her that I made the whole thing up.

Blurb:

Cassidy Dupree’s calm, predictable life is turned upside down when she walks into her sister’s home to find an empty house and a shattered mirror.

Cassidy thought her sister and brother-in-law had a good marriage, the kind she hoped to have one day, right up until her brother-in-law walked out on Kathryn. She thought she knew everything about Kathryn, until the moment she vanished and the secrets exploded.

Now her sister’s killer has turned his attention to Cassidy.

Excerpt:

            She’d always loved nighttime storms, tucked in her bed, warm and safe while the thunder rolled closer, making the air itself vibrate. The cadence of the rain, pounding against the roof was both a lullaby and a parade drummer. She would open the curtains and wait for the lightning to race across the dark sky, opening it up with a brilliant flash, leaving in its wake a negative image that hovered in the night for a second or two.

            But a storm when she lay curled up safe in her bed and a storm approaching when she was outside in the darkness with a killer on the loose were two very different things.

            Cassidy shivered as the storm rolled closer. She parked her car near the bridge, hesitated a moment, then got out, beeping the lock closed and walking along the park’s jogging path for the short distance until she came to the bridge. She reached into her pocket, felt her phone, familiar and reassuring.

            In the middle of the bridge a man stood silhouetted.

            “Hello, Cassidy,” he called. She recognized the voice from the phone call.

Cassidy started up the old wooden foot bridge. The boards sank a little every time she stepped on one, old wood turned soft through the years.

            Thunder rumbled off to the east.

            “Don’t worry,” he said. “The storm’s still several miles away.”

            She came a few steps closer. “I’m here. In the park in the middle of the night with a storm approaching. You can at least tell me your name.”

            “Jeff White.”

            The name zinged through her memory. “Kathryn had a friend named Jeff. They used to meet for lunch.”

            “Yes. I told you, we’d meet at The Oasis.”

            She walked a little farther up the bridge, hearing the slats creak. She rested one palm lightly on the rough wooden handrail, took another step.

            Cassidy’s heart flew to her throat as her right foot sank into nothing. She twisted, grabbing at the old rail with both hands. Splinters dug into her palms and the rail shook. Her left knee slammed against the spongy slats.

 

Bio:

Tamrie grew up in the sunshine state and came to Oklahoma when her Okie husband decided to move back home. As soon as she recovered from a rather serious case of culture shock, she fell in love with Oklahoma and the people. A former small town librarian, she now works at a local high school. She loves carousels, Shelties, soap making, scrapbooking and reading. She currently shares her home with the world’s most stuck up (and lovable) cat.

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Links to Evil by Rolynn Anderson… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the tenth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Rolynn Anderson’s “Links to Evil” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

I asked the brilliant and talented women in my golf club to help me write this short story since it is about a passel of golfers who help my heroine solve a murder. They provided names, settings, conflicts, and events I could fold into my mystery. They answered questions for 13 days and I wrote the draft in an additional 13 days. I even chose women at my golf course to be BETA readers. In the dark days of COVID, building a short story together was a welcome distraction!

 

Blurb:

A golf vacation meant to heal her injured brain turns into a career-buster, when FBI agent Sable Chisholm is accused of murdering her swing coach. Sable and her fearless foursome begin a perilous journey to expose the evil underbelly of a California links community.

Excerpt:

Sable faced her golfer friends and parsed her disclosure boldly. “I’m not afraid of sex.”

All three women laughed until their eyes watered.

Sable gave them a jaundiced look. “Thanks a lot.”

“You’re full of surprises, girl,” Rena said wiping her eyes. “Want to clarify that statement? I mean there isn’t a one of us who doesn’t love sex.”

Tightening her hands on the club, Sable said, “Being poisoned during a stakeout changed me from an introvert to a raging advocate of every out-there recreation I could find in The City. Climbing, surfing, bungee-jumping, triathlons, sky-diving. You name it. All in the month after carbon monoxide toasted my amygdala.” She cleared her throat. “I sought out sexual adventures as well.”

Rena hooted. In the next moment, she winced. “Protected, I hope.”

Looking at the grass, Sable said, “With married men.”

“Oh,” Bree said.

“Who worked in my office.”

“Ugh.” Sylvia grimaced.

“Two of them.”

“Bridges burned,” Rena opined.

“Mike?” Bree asked.

Sable shook her head. “Close. Too close.”

“Bottom line, Sable.” Rena tapped her finger in her palm. “Your police record details how you beat up two guys in a bar. Any pending suits from revengeful wives?”

“None. I promise. I made a deal with my therapist. No hopping in bed until after the fifth date. I have not slept with any man in Arroyo Grande in the two weeks I’ve been here. Period.”

She pinched her forehead. “My second admission isn’t earthshaking, but for some reason, my boss says I must tell you.” Sable paused. “I own a donkey and a pig.”

Bio:

Scandinavian, Army Brat, Wife, English Teacher, High School Principal, Golfer, Boater, World Traveler, Author.  Now add a competitive nature and a love for ‘makeovers.’  As a principal, Rolynn Anderson and the staff she hired, opened a cutting-edge high school; as co-captain with her husband on INTREPID, she cruised from Washington State to Alaska and back.  As a writer, she delights in creating imperfect characters faced with extraordinary, transforming challenges.  Her hope: You’ll devour her ‘makeover’ suspense novels in the wee hours of the morning, because her stories, settings and characters, capture your imagination and your heart.

Find Rolynn here:

Website

Facebook

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Glimpse, the Dinner Guest by Stephen B King… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the ninth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Stephen B King’s “Glimpse, the Dinner Guest” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

The Glimpse series in part, focuses on different aspects of mental illness causing victims to cross the border into becoming criminally insane, or to put it another way, to murder people. For this story, I chose paranoid schizophrenia and the effect of the antagonist receiving electroconvulsive therapy. I was fascinated with the research results for both the illness, and the wonderful results the treatment has brought sufferers. As always, my inspiration comes from two words: what if? In this case, it was: What if the treatment only fed the paranoia? And so, the tragic story of Mervyn Biscain and the horror her wreaks on unsuspecting psychiatrists at a murder mystery dinner party where he seeks revenge, came to life

 

Blurb:

Detective Sargent and clinical psychologist, Patricia Holmes, has been invited to a murder mystery dinner party at a small luxury hotel located in Western Australia. The dinner is a reunion party for the psychologists and psychiatrists who work at Perth’s largest mental hospital, which treats the criminally insane.

But there is an uninvited guest–a former patient who is hungry for revenge. In fact, he is ravenous. He will stop at nothing until he murders the doctor who gave him painful, electroconvulsive therapy.

Detective Sargent Holmes must stop a frenzied killer on a vicious spree—but can she save the other guests, or will she be the last one left alive?

Excerpt:

Pat knocked on the door of number ten and hoped she had caught Ruth before she went downstairs to the bar. From inside, she heard a muffled woman’s voice. “Can you get that, Tony,” The next moment, the door was yanked open, and a tall distinguished looking man wearing a tuxedo performed a double take when he saw her.

“Jesus Christ, are you all right?” he said with concern in his voice, and Pat realized the effect her slashed and bloody top had on him.

Pat gave a small laugh, which, when she glanced again at his face, grew louder, and threatened to become hysterical. “I’m fine, thank you. Dress scary, the invite said, so I did. I’ve got to say; your tuxedo isn’t scary at all. I’m Patricia Holmes and would like to have a few words with Ruth, if I can, before festivities get underway.”

He grinned and stepped back, beckoning with his head for her to enter. “Yeah, we don’t do fancy dress-ups, sorry. We’re far too dull in our old age. Come in. Ruth is applying her make up with a trowel. I’m Tony. I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Thanks, Tony, please call me Pat, everyone does. I left Graylands quite a while ago now, and even when I was there, I was only part-time. I consulted to the criminally insane, the lifers, worst of the worst. By all means, call me morbid. These days, I’m with the police.”

He pointed to the chair by the desk for her to sit then turned his head to the bathroom. “Hon, it’s Patricia Holmes. She wants a word with you before we go downstairs. Do you want me to hang around, or can I go down and mingle?”

Ruth Hawthorne stuck her head around the doorway with a lipstick clutched in her right hand. “Hello, Pat, bloody long time no see, how are you doing?” She turned her glance to her husband, “You can leave us girls. We can go down together. Is that all right, Pat? My God, I love your outfit.”

“Thanks, Ruth. I thought I’d have a bit of fun. Going down together works for me. I need a private chat anyway…”

“Sounds ominous. You get off, Tony. Pat joined the dark side and is with the police now, but I don’t think she is here to arrest me.”

Bio:

I share a name with another, far more famous writer (shh, you know who) and I am often asked why don’t I write under a pseudonym? Well, I am Australian, living in Perth, Western Australia, Stephen King is my real name, and I have an ego. I like people to know I am an author, but I do NOT want to be confused with the other guy. I have read every book the original SK has ever written, and I often think that if I could write one tenth as well as he does, I could die a happy man. We are about the same age, give or take a year or two, and I used to think I don’t write horror or supernatural. That is, until Alicia asked me to contribute a dark thriller for the Friday the 13th series of stories, and I jumped at the chance. After all, Glimpse, The Dinner Guest is my thirteenth book………

Amazon buy link: https://amzn.to/3m1RaA8

Stephen B King
www.stephen-b-king.com
twitter: @stephenBKing1
Facebook: @stephenbkingauthor

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In the Still of the Night by Callie Hutton… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the eighth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Callie Hutton’s “In the Still of the Night” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

Fun Fact:

My daughter works Security at our local zoo and provided a great deal of information and facts for the story.

Blurb:

It was supposed to be just another overnight shift at the zoo where Holly McCabe worked…until she discovered something more dangerous than lions and tigers lurked in the darkness.

Holly McCabe works the overnight shift at the local zoo. She likes the peace and quiet but never forgets that the only thing separating her from the dangerous animals surrounding her is a fence, a moat, or a sheet of unbreakable glass.

What Holly doesn’t know is that on this night, a greater threat lurks in the darkness at the zoo. Someone who has revenge in mind. Someone who wants to kill her. But first, like the great cats on display at the zoo, he will play with her.

Excerpt:

Her last stop was the stingray touch pool where she checked the water temperature then headed back to the office.

It was nice and quiet without Rebecca offering her worries about her health and her boyfriend, usually in that order. Holly pulled out the lunch she’d stored in the refrigerator the night before. She often made extra food when she and Brad actually had dinners together and boxed the leftovers up in meal-sized containers for lunch.

She’d finished her report, eaten her meal, and played four hands of solitaire on her computer and, still, Rebecca had not returned from her rounds.

Holly picked up her radio. “Rebecca, what’s your twenty?”

No response to her request for the woman’s location. Holly tried again. Nothing. She shrugged and returned to a new solitaire game. Rebecca had probably forgotten to turn her radio on. It would not be the first time.

Another twenty minutes went by and still no Rebecca. Holly glanced at the clock on the wall. One-fifteen. Holly had paged her on the radio several times. Unless her radio was not working, or her cart’s battery was dead, she should have called her or been back by now. There was also a possibility that she’d run into trouble.

With a combination of annoyance and unease, Holly left the office and grabbed the cart she’d parked over an hour before. She rode to the back area of the zoo, following the path Rebecca would have taken.

Halfway through the rounds, at the very back of the zoo, she spotted something lying on the ground, in the middle of the roadway. From her approach, it was difficult to see what it was. It could have been an animal, but any escape from the confines of the zoo would have set off an alarm. There were wild animals, of course, who regularly found their way into the zoo.

The closer she got, the larger the object on the ground appeared. With her heart in her throat, Holly stopped the cart, climbed out and, with sweaty hands, held her flashlight up.

 

Bio:

USA Today bestselling author, Callie Hutton, is the author of more than forty-five historical romance books and historical cozy mysteries. She writes humorous and spicy Regency and Victorian with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). With a million novels sold and translated into several languages, she continues to entrance readers with her heartfelt stories.

Find Callie Here: WEBSITE

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Retribution by DJ FitzSimons … A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the seventh of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share DJ Fitzsimon’s “Retribution” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

FUN FACT

This story is set in the town where I went to high school – Surbiton, in the county of Surrey, England. It was fun to write about Guy Fawkes night, a traditional night of fireworks, where children eat jacket potatoes (baked potatoes) and watch the big bonfires burn. I haven’t celebrated it for so long!

 

BLURB

Robbie enjoys killing beautiful women, loving nothing more than the excitement of the chase. He’s found his next victim in Petra, a deliciously enticing travel agent. Meticulously setting a trap to lure Petra towards a terrifying destiny, his plans go smoothly as he sends yet another woman to an early grave.

But has he?

Robbie is blindsided when out of nowhere, he sees Petra staring at him from a bridge—a living, breathing woman! How is it possible when he left her lying in her own blood? Returning to the scene of the crime, the psychopathic killer is in for the surprise of his life when he finds her body is missing.

As night descends on Hallow House, Robbie learns that sometimes the hunter can also be the quarry……

EXCERPT

I spot her immediately. Hard not to because she’s really good-looking. But not in the brassy ‘come and get me’ way. She’s slender, great figure, and when she walks, her long blonde hair swings across her back like a curtain falling. Our eyes meet several times as we both pick up books and look at them. Then she walks past me again, and, this time, catches me staring. But she doesn’t go all snooty and look away. No—she meets my gaze head on, holds it, and smiles shyly. Wow.

            When she leaves the bookshop, I follow her. Of course, I keep a far enough distance behind her so if she turns, she won’t see me. I just want to know where she’s going. Turns out it isn’t far. There’s a small travel agency on the corner, just down from the post office, and when she goes inside the building, I wait, out of sight, but close enough to see through the large window. She might be a customer. But no, she takes off her pretty blue coat, hangs it on a peg on the back wall and sits down at a desk. Okay. First phase completed. Now I know where to find her.

            I’m late. Harvey, my scumbag manager, gives me the ‘you’re in trouble’ glare as I enter the office. I give him a ‘go fuck yourself’ scowl right back. He’s a sorry excuse for management. But then, most of them are. He hasn’t got the balls to say anything though. Thing is, I’m no beefy tough guy – I’m five ten in my socks, and I don’t pump iron at the gym – I’m a runner. Harvey crossed me once before, and all it took was one look to freeze him. What had he seen in my eyes? That I’m a predator?

Probably—because I am.

BIO

DJ FitzSimons is new author to the thriller genre. But now she’s found it, there’s no stopping her! A misplaced Brit living in the Mid-West, she’s a Londoner, always in pursuit of authentic fish and chips. DJ is currently working on a contemporary thriller set in Oklahoma, and also writes gothic mysteries and a monthly blog under the pen name of Jude Bayton.

Contact DJ – author@judebayton.com

Or read about her antics here:

Website: https://www.judebayton.com

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20313628.Jude_Bayton

Twitter: https://twitter.com/judebayton

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/judebayton

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Till Death by Maureen Bonatch… A ‘Friday the 13th Story’

Hello and welcome to the sixth of my posts about a brand new series of 13 suspenseful “Friday the 13th” short stories, each by a different author.

Today, I am happy to share Maureen Bonatch’s “Till Death” – Now available for pre-order…releasing Nov 13.

 

Fun Fact:

  • My character Gina was inspired by the character Annie Wilkes from Misery and Castle Rock.
  • Are you superstitious? I had fun researching superstitions and taking Gina’s superstitions to the extreme.

Honor, obey…or slay  

 Blurb:

Gina believes that mirrors hold bits of the soul, a rabbit’s foot brings good luck, and that marriage vows are until death. But most of all, she’s blindly followed her husband Rick’s philosophy. Nasty men get one chance to convert from their abusive ways —or suffer the consequences they bring upon themselves.  

But when she meets George, Gina begins to question everything Rick has led her to believe about men. Now Rick has George lined up to be the next man to be redeemed. Will black widow Gina honor and obey and weave her web around George, or will she become the next victim?  

Excerpt:

Honor and obey.  This was the life I knew. The one I’d created as Rick’s wife. I had to see it through. I lowered my gaze to the ground. “I meant, don’t give the neighborhood more to talk about than it already has.”

“Neighborhood? Do you mean that old man who’s been sniffing around here?” Rick smoothed his face back into the mask he shared with the world and glanced toward George’s house.

“No.” I didn’t dare look to see if George was lingering. It was a mistake to remind Rick that I might’ve made a friend. A male friend who didn’t fit into the mold Rick insisted most men did. But Rick made a lot of ruckus that could’ve attracted other attention, so when two ladies walked down the street, not giving us a second glance, I inclined my head their way.

Rick’s gaze followed mine and then returned to me. “I thought you didn’t worry about those things? About what people might think? Most people don’t see what’s justified in the world, they don’t understand the road to redemption and how we are paving it with the blood of those who don’t appreciate a woman.”

“I don’t care what they think, but this time it’s different.” I was different. But I couldn’t tell Rick that I’d begun to question the truths of performing this justice with him. All it had taken was one old man who’d experienced a loving marriage. A man who saw me as more than a cook, cleaner, and punching bag.

“It’s not really different when the end result is the same.” Rick pushed past me. He entered my house as if he owned the place, and as my husband, technically he did.

 

Bio:

Maureen Bonatch grew up in small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four seasons—hockey, biking, sweat pants and hibernation—keeps her there. While immersed in writing or reading paranormal romance and fantasy, she survives on caffeine, wine, music, and laughter. A feisty Shih Tzu keeps her in line. Find Maureen on her websiteFacebookTwitter

Be the first to know about Maureen’s book sales and new releases by following her on BookBub, Amazon and/or signing up for her newsletter

Social Media Info:

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Maureen-L.-Bonatch/e/B00KHY1KK8/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mbonatch

Website: http://www.maureenbonatch.com

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Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/mbonatch/

Contact:    maureen@maureenbonatch.com

 

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