The Player’s Encore by Joe Cosentino – Q&A and Giveaway

March 16, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes back Joe Cosentino who is celebrating yesterday’s release of The Player’s Encore, the second book in his Player Piano Mysteries series. Post a comment on what you love about player pianos, gay romance, Key West, Tuscany, or whodunits. The one that tickles our ivories the most will win a complimentary e-book of The Player, Player Piano Mysteries Book 1, by Joe Cosentino.

Joe, congratulations on the release of The Player’s Encore, a new MM mystery/romance/fantasy novel.

I’m ready for my encore. (smile)

For anyone who hasn’t read The Player—and they should!—recap the first novel in The Player Piano Mysteries series for us.

I decided to blend my love of the Art Deco period with my passion for the contemporary cozy mystery—with a gay slant—and out came The Player. It is the story of Andre Beaufort, a grade school music teacher living in Hoboken, New Jersey, who having found a player piano in the basement, brought back to life the spirit of dapper Roaring Twenties playboy Freddy Birtwistle—the original owner of the house. The two men got off to a rocky start, but they eventually fell madly in love and solved two murder mysteries—in Freddy’s old city house and country house.

Why did you have Freddy come from the Roaring Twenties period?

I’ve always loved the Roaring Twenties period: the pinstriped suits and beaded dresses, Art Deco houses and furnishings, catchy tunes from Gershwin and Porter, wealthy bon vivant personalities, the Charleston, catchy expressions like “the bee’s knees,” and of course the player piano.

Why did you decide to write a second book in The Player series?

I worried that readers might not like The Player as much as they adored my popular Nicky and Noah mystery series. To my elation, readers loved The Player, and they begged me for another Player novel. Since I love the beach (hence my Cozzi Cove series) and Italy (as noted in my A Home for the Holidays Bobby and Paolo Holiday Story 1), I decided that Andre and Freddy would next solve murder mysteries in Freddy’s old house in Key West and at his family’s past villa in Tuscany.

What happens in book 2?

As in book 1, readers get two stories for the price of one! In part I of The Player’s Encore: The Beach House, Freddy yearns to visit his family’s beach house in Florida. So, Andre and Freddy embark on a vacation to the stunning home which has become a bed and breakfast. Before Freddy can say “zotched,” a young, mysterious houseboy is murdered, the second hunky houseboy to meet the same fate. As it turns out, the suspects are all related to the latest victim: his desk clerk boyfriend, his incredibly handsome cousin who happens to be a doctor, and his feuding parents. Also in the mix are the accountant with slippery books, a studly new houseboy who can’t keep his feather duster in his pants, and a little girl with a secret that changes Andre and Freddy’s lives. Since the detective obsessed with the case has come up with an empty seashell, it’s once again up to lovers Andre and Freddy to find the murderer and save the inn—and themselves!

In part II: The Villa, Andre and Freddy venture off on a vacation with Andre’s uncle, an ex-priest, to Tuscany, where they stay at an inn that happens to have once been Freddy’s old family villa. Before the sun sets golden on the hills, a young, handsome, wealthy guest is murdered. The suspects are the victim’s distant father who is his competitor in business, a sexy Italian guide with a secret, two hunky gay travelers connected via a travel app, and a straight married couple who appear ready to embark on new sexual conquests. At the same time, Freddy finds his deceased sister’s diary and makes a surprising discovery that changes his life. When the muscular Italian detective investigating the murder seems lost in his spaghetti, it’s yet again up to lovers Andre and Freddy to solve the mystery and save the day!

What’s special about the novel?

The two mysteries include lots of sexy characters, cozy settings, humor, surprising plot twists and turns, fun red herrings, a touch of drama, a shocking yet justifiable ending, and of course lots of sweet romance.

Why a player piano?

While walking through an antique shop upstate New York, I came across an old player piano. It was handcrafted from maple, mahogany, and spruce with an elaborate leaf pattern molding. In the center section stood the roll of pre-programmed music on perforated paper: George Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me” from 1926. While listening to the song, I couldn’t help imagining who might have owned the Pianola. Since player pianos were popular with the wealthy in the Roaring Twenties, I imagined the owner, like the piano, was a player and a socialite from a family who made their fortune in the railroad industry. I named him Freddy Birtwistle.

Tell us more about the dazzling and captivating Freddy.

Freddy is tall and lean with slicked-back jet-black hair, violet eyes, high cheekbones, a thin nose, and rosy cheeks. True to his time period, he is meticulously dressed in a pinstriped black suit and vest, white silk shirt, and gray suspenders with matching bowtie and silk pocket handkerchief. His shoes are shiny black patent leather with white spats. Even more interesting than Freddy’s looks and wardrobe are his alluring and joyous bon vivant personality. Since Freddy socialized with the rich and famous of his time, he has numerous entertaining stories to tell about the elite of his time. Oh, and Freddy is a ghost, having been shot at thirty years old by a misinformed jealous husband.

Is book 2 told through Andre’s perspective as was the case with book 1?

Yes, now twenty-seven, Andre Beaufort is tall and thin with a cut body, amber eyes, dark hair, milk chocolate complexion, and a bubble butt. Andre and Freddy are happily in love. They are a ghostly Holmes and mortal Watson.

Who are the supporting characters in The Player’s Encore?

In Part I at the Key West beach bed and breakfast, we meet hunky houseboys Christian Hart and Nico DeFina, Christian’s parents and his gorgeous cousin Dr. Spencer Hart, Christian’s boyfriend beefy desk clerk Yusef Raji, oily inn manager Troy Grey, and his young daughter Ana Grey. When Christian is murdered, Butch Detective Ken Evans solicits Andre’s help who asks for Freddy’s assistance in catching the murderer.

And in the second story?

In part II in the Tuscan Villa, we meet Andre’s hunky Uncle Darryl right out of the priesthood, the inn’s beefy owner Bartolo Lotto, cute travelling roommates Rai Ming and Felix Gutierrez, young A-lister Colin Maverick and his gray fox father CEO of Maverick Enterprises Julian Maverick, and a straight married couple ready to expand their horizons. Sexy Detective Francesco Ferrari seems more interested in Uncle Darryl and Bartolo Lotto than solving the murder mystery. So, it’s Freddy and Andre to the rescue.

How are the stories cozy?

They take place in a quaint bed and breakfast on the beach and in a gorgeous Tuscan villa overlooking olive orchards, vineyards, lemon trees, and rolling hills kissed by the sun.

Why do you think there aren’t many other gay cozy mystery series out there?

MM doesn’t have to mean only erotica, dark thrillers, or young adult novels. While that’s fine, I think we’re missing a whole spectrum of fiction. In the case of the Nicky and Noah mysteries and now The Player series, my books include romance, humor, mystery, adventure, and quaint and loveable characters in uncanny situations. The settings are warm and cozy. The clues and red herrings are there for the perfect page-turning whodunits.

Many of your characters in The Player and The Player’s Encore are of various ethnicities and sexual identities. Is that deliberate on your part?

Sure. We live in a diverse world. Literature should reflect that.

I’m sure you’ve been told that the books would make a terrific TV series. How would you cast a TV version?

Here’s my wish list to for the regular cast: Matt Bomer as Freddy, Blake Young Fountain as Andre, Wanda Sykes as Freddy’s Aunt Nia, and now Wilson Cruz as Freddy’s Uncle Darryl. Come on, TV producers, make me an offer!

How can your readers get their hands on The Player’s Encore?

The purchase links are below.

Thank you, Joe, for interviewing today.

My pleasure. I hope everyone will give The Player’s Encore a play. I’m sure, like Andre and me, you will fall in love with Freddy and have a great deal of fun trying to solve the mysteries. And I love to hear from readers. So drop me a line at my website.

Can a man and a ghost be soulmates? When young music teacher Andre Beaufort unleashed the ghost of dapper Roaring Twenties playboy Freddy Birtwistle from his antique player piano, he never imagined they would fall in love and solve two murder mysteries. Now Freddy yearns to visit his family’s beach house in Florida. So, Andre and Freddy embark on a vacation to the stunning home which has become a bed and breakfast. Before Freddy can say “zotched,” a young, mysterious houseboy is murdered, the second hunky houseboy to meet the same fate. Will Andre and Freddy find the murderer to save the inn—and themselves?

A year later, Andre and Freddy venture off on a vacation with Andre’s uncle, an ex-priest, to Tuscany, staying at an inn which happens to have once been Freddy’s old family villa. Before the sun sets golden on the hills, a handsome young guest is murdered. Will Andre and Freddy uncover the secrets of Freddy’s ancestral home, solve the mystery, and find eternal love?
The Player’s Encore, the second installment in the popular Player Piano Mysteries series by Joe Cosentino, includes two cozy mysteries: The Beach House and The Villa.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Bag in hand, I made my way inside the house and down a long white marble hallway. A muscular, young man with olive skin and jet-black hair and eyes stood behind the counter. Offering me a white smile, he said, “Welcome to Apollo Branchus.”

I stood opposite the counter, dropping my bag at my side. “Thank you. I’m Andre Beaufort.”

“I’m Yusef Raji. We spoke on the phone.”

“I remember.”

He glanced at his computer screen. “You are registered for room five.”

“The player piano room.”

“You saw our photos online?”

I nodded. “And Ava confirmed it for me on the front porch.”

He rubbed his wide nose. “Ava is a bit precocious. She’s our manager’s daughter.”

“She told me.” I explained, “I’m a grade school teacher. I like talking to kids.”

“What do you teach?”

“Music.” I grinned. “Not math, which was good news for Ava.”

A tall man who appeared to be in his thirties with receding mousy brown hair entered the counter area from a closed door marked “Manager.” “I’m Troy Grey, the manager. I apologize if my daughter bothered you.”

I replied, “It was no bother at all. I enjoyed speaking with Ava. She welcomed me to the inn. Ava seems like a bright little girl.”

Troy offered me a wan smile. “Yes.”

“Mr. Beaufort is registered in room five,” Yusef said.

Troy’s small brown eyes focused on me. “Welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay.” As he exited through the same door, I wondered why Ava’s father wore a violet silk shirt and designer black slacks and she dressed like an urchin.

“Yusef, aren’t you going to introduce me to the new guest?”

I spun around to face a short, very muscular young man with smooth olive skin, curly chestnut hair, and a Roman nose.

Yusef waved toward him. “Andre Beaufort, this is Nico DeFina, our houseboy.”

“Every house needs a boy.” Clad in a skintight cranberry T-shirt and white shorts, Nico aimed his wide pecs and massive bulge in my direction. “Welcome to the bed and breakfast, Andre.”

“Thank you.”

He licked his full lips like a blood hound spotting a rib roast. “I’ll do my best to make you…comfortable.”

Yusef cleared his throat. “I need to check him in.”

Nico’s sapphire eyes focused back on Yusef. “All right. I’ll check in with you later.” Nico winked at me. “Let me know if you need any checking out after checking in.” He disappeared.

I asked Yusef, “Is he always that friendly?”

“You got away easy. He asked the last guest checking in if he wanted a slab of beef between his buns.”

We shared a laugh.

Yusef glanced back at his computer. “Now, I have your deposit to reserve the room. May I scan your credit card to cover additional expenses?”

I handed him my card. As he scanned it, I asked, “Does the owner live on the premises?”

Yusef shook his head. “But Troy is in regular contact with him.”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Eight years.”

“How about Troy?”

“Twelve.”

“Did Ava’s mother work here too…before she passed away?”

“Arabella was the cook.” He grinned. “She was full of life and laughter…until she became ill three years ago. Troy was understandably devastated.”

I nodded. “Life is so fleeting.”

“One of the reasons to take vacations.”

I agreed. “Especially in places as beautiful as this one.”

“Then let’s get you started.” He handed me a key. “This will unlock your room and the front door, which we lock at midnight. The beach outside is private for our guests only. There are beach chairs, umbrellas, towels, and bottled water on the front porch.” Yusef’s eyes rested on my biceps and pecs. “You’ll need to bring your own bathing suit.”

I held up my bag. “Not a problem.”

“After travelling, you must be ready for a rest before dinner. The two parlors on this floor are open to guests as is the front porch. Refreshments are served in the back parlor each day at four. Breakfast is served seven-thirty to ten am in the garden room, toward the back of this floor. Through the front sitting room are the stairs to the bedrooms. Your room is the last one on the left.” He glanced at my small bag. “Obviously, you won’t be needing help with your luggage.”

“Do you have any recommendations for dinner?”

He scratched at his thin beard. “There’s a great restaurant just three blocks north of us. They serve local-caught fish and key lime pie made from local limes. The food is amazing.”

“Sounds great.” I grinned. “Thank you for being so helpful.”

He returned the smile. “My pleasure. Enjoy your stay. And please let me know if you need anything.”

About the Author: Joe Cosentino was voted Favorite MM Mystery, Humorous, and Contemporary Author of the Year by the readers of Divine Magazine for Drama Queen, the first Nicky and Noah mystery novel. He is also the author of the remaining Nicky and Noah mysteries: Drama Muscle, Drama Cruise, Drama Luau, Drama Detective, Drama Fraternity, Drama Castle, Drama Dance, Drama Faerie, Drama Runway, Drama Christmas; the Player Piano Mysteries: The Player and The Player’s Encore; the Jana Lane Mysteries: Paper Doll, Porcelain Doll, Satin Doll, China Doll, Rag Doll; the Cozzi Cove series: Cozzi Cove: Bouncing Back, Moving Forward, Stepping Out, New Beginnings, Happy Endings; the In My Heart Anthology: An Infatuation & A Shooting Star; the Tales from Fairyland Anthology: The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland and Holiday Tales from Fairyland; the Bobby and Paolo Holiday Stories Anthology: A Home for the Holidays, The Perfect Gift, The First Noel; and the Found At Last Anthology: Finding Giorgio and Finding Armando. His books have won numerous Book of the Month awards and Rainbow Award Honorable Mentions. As an actor, Joe appeared in principal roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Jason Robards, and Holland Taylor. He received his Master of Fine Arts degree from Goddard College, Master’s degree from SUNY New Paltz, and is currently a happily married college theatre professor/department chair residing in New York State.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, or Kobo.

Filed Under: Guest Blogs, Mystery/Suspense Tagged With: ,

Winning by Craig Dinsell – Interview

March 11, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Craig Dinsell whose debut novel Winning was released in December.

Craig is mainly from the UK, but New York is his nearest city. This actually led to his scariest moment, on 9/11.

“My office was in one of the towers that went down. I was in San Francisco that morning and not knowing if my colleagues and indeed who amongst the whole community there had survived was terrifying.”

He has been writing for years in the context of business or poetry for personal enjoyment. His poetry is all about imagery and people trapped in stories where the cadence of each word is critical to the shape of the poem and reading experience.

“Poems can be short snapshots or great sagas where the reader can be more or less ignored in favor of the message,” he explained. “It’s been interesting to step out into fiction where it is perhaps a bit less about the art of the moment then stringing the moments together into a drama that will command the reader’s attention. But perhaps that sounds a bit too pretentious.”

“What, in your opinion, are the most important elements of good writing?” I wondered.

“As I understand it, for fiction, intriguing characters and scenes that drag you in and a plot that has a few surprises which flow from fresh perspectives and ideas. Writing which grabs the reader from the start. But perhaps the skill in writing is to leave the reader enough white space to use their imagination. As a writer I think that one often feels compelled to fill in all the gaps but I’m learning that that kills imagination. Probably nothing matters more than the writer’s passion and engagement with the characters in their story.”

Craig tole me that he begins with the characters. He spends enough time with them that he can hear their voices and let them direct where the story should go.

“I’ve also been finding that switching the characters between roles is interesting. By doing this the plot can turn in unexpected directions,” he said.

He told me his first book was about knives and chameleons, being lost and found. The new book he’s working on is about another wort of journey undertaken by a bunch of quite dysfuntional characters.

“It’s really quite funny,” he said. “I hope!”

I asked, “What is the hardest part of writing for you?”

“Finding the time to do it. And once I get going, not getting too caught up in the details of each scene. My editor, David Haviland, gave me some great advice early on – “get in and get out!”

He researches books in a few ways. Like one of his characters, he picks up ideas and conversations from here and there and jot them down. He also uses the internet a lot.

“If I am writing about something that happened in the sixties, for instance,” he explained, “I will do a lot of digging to get maps, images and newspaper pieces about what was happening then.”

“What are the best and worst pieces of writing advice you ever received?”

“The other night I heard someone say, ‘If you like a scene write a scene.’ That may not be original but it is great advice because a scene can lead anywhere. Some advice about reading a lot of other fiction writers may not be as helpful- Sure, it’s vital to be well read but the whole point of writing is to be original and truly creative? But there again maybe there isn’t anything new under the sun to quote Ecclesiastes (oops!)”

Finally, I asked, “What is something you’d like to accomplish in your writing career next year?”

“I don’t know about next year. Tomorrow is too far off for predictions these days? My chief writing ambition now is to publish my next novel and a book of collected poems this year!”

Fen Morgan, Chief Investment Officer at XelFunds, is a brilliant investor, and an insufferable romantic. Living mostly in his head, he accumulates private collections, as he wanders alone through fictional mental landscapes, crammed with investment theories and shards of poetry

When Fen is catapulted into a top job, a grisly tragedy strikes, and he is shaken to his core. Sardonic wit is no longer a sufficient defense. In despair, yet alive to the possibilities that may result, Fen searches for answers.

His colleague Grace, meanwhile, desperately tries to make her way through the Neanderthal tribes that occupy the C-suites of Wall Street. Uncertain that there is anything of worth in life beyond her ambition, Grace gambles on an act of betrayal that will determine her survival.

Winning is a gripping story of Wall Street, knives and chameleons, played out across an intriguing, international canvas. As Fen’s stock rises, and Grace plays politics, they consider what it means to win the world but lose your soul.

About the Author:As Chief Human Resources Officer at a series of global companies Craig mentored numerous international teams and leaders enabling them to thrive in the face of traumatic culture and personal change. He has also been active with not for profit organizations as both a strategy consultant and board member.

A course on behavior in small groups at the Grubb Institute in London first sparked his passion for creating diverse and resilient organizations. He studied Theology at The London School of Theology, where he was not a good fit.

Craig resides on a farm near New York City with his wife Sheila, occasional flocks of sheep and Henry an eccentric Golden Retriever. Winning is Craig’s first novel, Henry’s novel is still in process.

Buy the book at Amazon.

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Ten Things Most People Don’t Know About Me by Luba Lesychyn – Guest Blog and Giveaway

February 25, 2021 By 4 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Luba Lesychyn will be awarding a print copy of Theft Between the Rains to a randomly drawn winner (US or Canada ONLY) via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

10 things most people don’t know about me

In my two books, the main character is inspired by my own experiences and escapades working at Canada’s largest museum, the Royal Ontario Museum. But, there’s many things that people don’t know about me. Here’s my top ten list.

1. When I came up with the idea for Theft By Chocolate (about a woman looking for chocolate, love, and an international art thief in all the wrong places), I was a raging chocolate addict. But when it came to write the sequel using the same lead character, Kalena Boyko, in my own life I had gained control over my addiction. I suppose you could say I’m a recovering chocoholic.

So, when writing the sequel, Theft Between the Rains (a story about what happens when my lead character inexplicably begins receiving art work listed as still missing since WWII starts turning up on her doorstep), I diminished the number of chocolate references and put more emphasis on water as the primary motif.

2. When I attended a summer writing workshop at a Toronto college, where I eventually did a creative writing program, an editor from an internationally renowned publishing house as well as a highly respected Toronto publishing agent ripped apart, in front of the entire class (probably more than 100 aspiring writers), the sample pages I had submitted as part of the enrollment requirements. I never thought I’d live that down, but I did and I vowed to learn as much as I possibly could about the craft of writing.

3. I became a vegetarian and conscious eater between writing the two books. So, readers will find that I make more references to organic and fair trade chocolate in Theft Between the Rains and have avoided including certain commercial chocolate brands that enable unethical practices in farming and harvesting in developing countries.

4. My first passion was actually film, even from a very young age, and my writing career started with blogging about my experiences attending Toronto’s International Film Festival (where during a period of 10 days each year, I would see 50+ films) including my amusing stories about dashing between theaters and screenings.

5. When I wrote Theft By Chocolate, I was terrified that my former colleagues at the Royal Ontario Museum would think I didn’t do them justice and that my use of artistic license in describing museum life would not be appreciated. In fact, the opposite turned out to be the case and even people I would consider to be stalwart academics took the time to contact me and tell me how much they enjoyed both books. In fact, in the first edition of Theft By Chocolate, I called the ROM by another name, so when I wrote Theft Between the Rains, I called the museum by its actual name and subsequently updated Theft By Chocolate and changed all the references to the Royal Canadian Museum to Royal Ontario Museum.

6. I wasn’t able to find a publisher for several years for Theft By Chocolate. Eventually, I travelled to the Women’s Fiction Festival in the town of Matera in Southern Italy where I pitched my book and found a publisher that was smitten with my manuscript. Unfortunately, they closed their doors a couple of years later so rights returned to me. When I wrote Theft Between the Rains, I made a conscious decision from the start to self-publish the sequel.

7. I’m one of those writers who for the longest time suffered from imposter syndrome, thinking that I was not a ‘real’ writer because I didn’t do it full time. I not only had a really demanding full-time job, but I was also teaching yoga evenings and weekends. It’s only been very recently, after having written two books, and working on my third and fourth, that I have come to realization that I AM a writer!

8. Like many writers, I am an introvert and when I do readings, I can’t eat for hours before or after it takes place. Now that I am doing readings virtually, one would think that I wouldn’t get stage fright, but in some ways it’s even worse because you’re staring at a computer screen and praying technology doesn’t break down. Fortunately, I have been told repeatedly my jitters don’t show and, if anything, I have great testimonials about my apparent confidence and ease of speaking at such events. If they only knew!

9. Despite being shy, I have organized all my own library and private book events (including when I had a publisher – who were UK based and I live in Canada). I did all my own leg work and self-promotion.

10. And finally, I have turned into an audiobook hoarder. I currently have a ‘pile’ of 20 audio books to which I haven’t listened.

What would you do if you worked at a reputable international museum and art works listed as still missing since WWII began showing up on your doorstep?

That’s the substance of the newest urban art theft thriller Theft Between the Rains by Luba Lesychyn.

Drawing on her more than 20 years at Canada’s largest museum, Luba reintroduces many of the affable and quirky characters from the prequel, Theft By Chocolate. Also resurrected is the malicious art thief who has been on the world’s most wanted criminal list for decades.

Theft Between the Rains takes readers behind the scenes at museums and to parts unknown of Toronto. And with water being a character unto its own, Luba uses both humor and thriller elements to weave a page-turning story while simultaneously illustrating how changing weather patterns and flash flooding are impacting metropolitan centers globally.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Lying slumped back in a chair, my body felt as though a truck had dumped a load of concrete over me. I mustered enough energy to crank my head upwards, but my brain was foggy, punch-drunk, as if I’d overdosed on gluten. In a mirror on the opposite wall, I caught a glimpse of my reflection. What was that dark mark on my throat, small and round? My head drooped downwards, and I noticed the door swelling open, incrementally, a sliver of light growing by millimeters. And then…a leg came into view. And, another. Where was I? Who was this coming in? Was I asleep, having one of those 3:00 am witching hour anxiety dreams? Should I get up? I couldn’t get up. Neurons were misfiring. I knew that person at the door. He was saying something to me…but the words seemed out of sync with what I was hearing.

Why did this guy sound like Johnny Cash…singing “Hurt”? Oh my god, it was Marco Zeffirelli, and now he seemed to be screaming at me, but it sounded as though he was underwater.

“Huh, what’s going on?” I said. Was I on some kind of drug trip? I didn’t do drugs. Did someone drug me?

Marco’s hands came towards the sides of my face, tugged at something, and the music stopped. Oh, right. It was all coming back to me. I had been listening to my iPod while working at my desk.

About the Author: Luba Lesychyn is a popular Toronto-based mystery writer, a graduate of the Humber School for Writers, and a respected author in the library readings and events circuit.

In her two books, she draws from her more than 20 years of work experiences at the Royal Ontario Museum (Canada’s largest museum), and her time working for a private museum consulting firm to write humorous, international art theft thrillers featuring amateur sleuth Kalena Boyko. Her newest book, Theft Between the Rains, is a sequel to Theft By Chocolate (about a woman looking for chocolate, love and an international art thief in all the wrong places) published in 2012 by Attica Books and launched in Canada and the UK.

Luba currently spends her time writing and virtually touring Theft Between the Rains in which lead character Kalena Boyko returns to find herself pulled into international art theft intrigue when masterpieces missing since WWII start appearing on her doorstep.

Website | Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Goodreads | Instagram | Kobo Author Page | Pinterest | Twitter

Buy the book at Amazon or Kobo.

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War of the Squirrels by Kirsten Weiss – Spotlight and Giveaway

February 18, 2021 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kirsten Weiss will be awarding a signed, paperback copy of War of the Squirrels, an “Ever Vigilant” squirrel notepad, a squirrel wish bracelet, and a squirrel baseball cap (black) (US ONLY) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Helicopter parents, suspicious squirrels… and murder.

All Susan wants is to get through this visit from her controlling parents without tumbling down a black hole of despair. But galactic forces are colliding at her whimsical B&B, Wits’ End, and her parents have plans of their own.

When two men die on the same day, both mysterious deaths are tied to her mom and dad. Meanwhile, a squirrel scofflaw is riling up the tiny mountain town of Doyle, and Susan realizes she’s the only person who can stop the madness. And if this B&B owner can’t put these crimes to rest fast, her carefully organized life may come crashing to earth.

This fast-paced and funny cozy mystery is book four in the Wits’ End series. Packed with quirky characters, small town charm, and murder, it’s perfect for fans of Jana Deleon, Tricia O’Malley, and Charlaine Harris.

Buy War of the Squirrels and start this hilarious caper today.

Enjoy an Excerpt

As if my fingers were far, far away, I felt my hands loosen. I dimly heard my cleaning bucket of brushes and other supplies thud to the carpet in room seven.

Bailey howled and raced from the room, his ears flapping. And who could blame him? The room itself seemed to revolt at the scene. Even the faked pie-tin UFO photo hung at an awkward angle above the rumpled bed.

Early evening shadows knifed across my mother’s sensible shoes. She sat in a vintage wing chair in one corner of the room. “Shut the door,” she commanded and removed the clip from a Russian pistol.

Automatically, I obeyed.

Mouth slack, I backed against the door. “You… That’s…” My breath came in quick gasps. Dots swam in front of my eyes. This wasn’t my first body in the B&B. But…

The leg slipped in my father’s grip, the shoe inching closer to his shoulder.

Briefly, I wondered if this was what lost time felt like, this sense of being out of phase, outside ordinary reality. Unthinking, I groped for my day planner. But of course it wasn’t there. I didn’t carry it around when I cleaned.

Should I?

About the Author:
Kirsten Weiss has never met a dessert she didn’t like, and her guilty pleasures are watching Ghost Whisperer re-runs and drinking red wine. The latter gives her heartburn, but she drinks it anyway.

Now based in Colorado Springs, CO, she writes genre-blending cozy mystery, supernatural and steampunk suspense, mixing her experiences and imagination to create vivid worlds of fun and enchantment.

If you like funny cozy mysteries, check out her Pie Town – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/pie-town-mysteries, Tea and Tarot – https://www.kirstenweiss.com/tea-and-tarot-mysteries , Paranormal Museum – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/the-perfectly-proper-paranormal-mus-1 and Wits’ End – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/doyle-cozy-mystery-series books.

If you’re looking for some magic with your mystery, give the Witches of Doyle – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/doyle-witch-cozy-mysteries, Riga Hayworth – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/riga-hayworth-paranormal-mysteries and Rocky Bridges – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/rocky-bridges-mysteries books a try.

And if you like steampunk, the Sensibility Grey – http://www.kirstenweiss.com/sensibility-grey-steampunk-suspense series might be for you.

Kirsten sends out original short stories of mystery and magic to her mailing list. If you’d like to get them delivered straight to your inbox, make sure to sign up for her newsletter on her website. Or you can send her an email at kweiss2001@kirstenweiss.com. She’ll answer you personally…which may be a good or a bad thing, depending on your perspective.

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What We Bury by Carolyn Arnold – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 27, 2021 By 20 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Carolyn Arnold will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

She’s dying, and she knows it. If only she can stay alive long enough to leave one last message. As the rain beats against the metal roof, she uses her blood-soaked fingertip to scrawl on the floorboards… The letters GB.

Detective Madison Knight has been house hunting, but a call from her real estate agent has nothing to do with finding the perfect property. She’s found a woman’s body, stabbed multiple times. Madison arrives on scene and is presented with an unknown Jane Doe and two letters written in blood. There’s no murder weapon, and it seems Doe was attacked somewhere else.

As Madison works to find justice for the victim, Madison’s own life is put at risk. What she comes to discover is some people will go to extreme lengths to protect their secrets—even as far as murder. But will learning that lesson come too late for her?

Buy this international bestselling book today and join the investigation! Uncover clues, follow leads, and catch a cop killer like thousands of readers have done before you.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Are you really eating a chocolate bar for dinner?”

She laughed. Terry, her food monitor. “I’m not sure why that would surprise you.” They’d been partners going on eight years, and for that length of time, she’d always had a chocolate—more specifically, a Hershey’s—addiction.

“I was hoping we’d stop somewhere, hit a drive-thru on the way to the ex-husband’s—”

“Because that’s so much healthier.” She mumbled, “Vegetable,” just before taking another bite of heaven.

“If that’s what you have to tell yourself to soothe your conscience.”

She scowled at him while her mouth was full of gooey milk chocolate. “Ymm,” she moaned and closed her eyes.

“You really have a problem. You know that?”

“Whatev—” She chomped on another chunk. “Ymm.”

Terry shook his head. “While you masticate that bar like a—”

She stopped chewing, her glare daring him to finish his sentence.

About the Author:

CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international bestselling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action adventures.

Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.

Carolyn was born in a small town and enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and empower.

She currently lives in London, Ontario with her husband and beagles and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada and Sisters in Crime.

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Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, or Kobo.


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Dead Silent by various authors – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 20, 2021 By 15 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Three randomly drawn winners will receive a $10 Amazon/BN GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The secrets must be kept, or the body count will rise…
Are you ready for the eighteen deadly crime thrillers that will keep you up all night?

Shrouded in mystery, these thrillers by eighteen Wall Street Journal, USA Today and International Best-selling authors, will keep you turning the pages for weeks. It’s a limited time collection that will introduce you to your new favorite writers.

What made the art thieves kill? Why does the old case haunt the detective? Can the assassins be stopped?

From Los Angeles to Scotland to Prague, the twists and turns will leave you in a cold sweat, needing to know what happens next with page after page of the deadliest crimes you can imagine.

This mystery, thriller, and suspense boxset is perfect for fans of David Baldacci, James Patterson, Chris Collett, Angela Marsons, and Lisa Gray.

Enjoy an Excerpt from Mortuary School

A hot wind whipped my hair into my eyes, but even through the black veil I could see the Cavendish School of Mortuary Science wasn’t what I’d expected. The pictures of it on the website showed ivied halls on a grand Victorian-era estate.

The registration building in front of me wasn’t that. It was a three-story blue and beige stucco monstrosity, circa 1980.

I pushed open the heavy security-glass door and made my way toward the registrar’s office down a linoleum hallway that smelled of cafeteria lunches. The line wasn’t long, Mortuary Science not being as popular a major as, say, Communications or Business. I retrieved my registration packet and headed out into the blustery heat again.

Despite the Santa Ana winds, famous in Southern California for unseasonal temperatures and seasonal fires, the campus hummed with first-day excitement. Lost students wandered zombie- like along the winding paths. Returning students greeted one another with fist bumps and hugs. The crowd looked much like any other group of college students, albeit a greater percentage preferred dark hair and clothing, but they weren’t. They were here to study death.

Instead of world history, they would study world burial customs. Instead of Psychology 101, Psychology of Grief. Instead of Biology, a hands-on embalming course. Something warm glowed within. I was a good six years older than most of the students milling around, yet they were my people.

I pulled the campus map from the registration packet, and as I did, a glossy four-color flier fluttered to the ground. Before I could retrieve it, the wind snagged it and carried it toward the grass. I jogged after it, but a girl with skin as dark as mine was white darted forward and snatched it from the thieving gust. She glanced at the page in her hand and snorted. “I got one of these.”

About the Authors: Books by: Judith Lucci, Fiona Quinn, Sandra Woffington, Michelle Medhat, Dan Petrosini, Greta Boris, David Berens, J.D. Weston, Tom Fowler, Chris Patchell, L.K. Hill, Gavin Reese, K.C. Sivils, Tom Schneider, Elleby Harper, Dwayne Gill, James Harper, Jay Tinsiano, and Jay Newton

The boxed set is only $0.99!

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Wired by the FBI by Glenn Painter – Q&A and Giveaway

January 19, 2021 By 8 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Enter the Rafflecopter to win a $100 or $50 Amazon/BN GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour. Read our review here

What group did you hang out with in high school?

The jocks, most of them worked at one time or another for my father’s paint manufacturing company.

What are you passionate about these days?

Writing and promoting my latest book.

If you had to do your journey to getting published all over again, what would you do differently?

I would have begun what I am doing know before my book is released.

E-book or print? And why?

The digital age is upon us, however there are certain die-hard readers which love to hold an actual book. I AM ONE OF THEM!!

What is your favorite scene in this book?

All of them, however if I must pick one out it would be chapter 36 Texas Fried Moron

Christian Romano lives his life as a con-artist, burglar, drug dealer, and a ladies’ man, using his good looks to con wealthy women out of jewels and money. When he is arrested and jailed in one of the most violent jails in the U.S. (Cook County in Chicago), a steamy affair begins with a nympho female jail guard. When he loses control of the romance, Christian must end the affair by reporting her to Internal Affairs. It turns out that she is already under suspicion for supplying drugs to various gang members inside the jail. He has to decide if he is “”rogue”” enough to help set her up for arrest. Meanwhile, the FBI wants to recruit Christian to gather information against a sadist ex-cop, Scott Mason, who has been arrested for murder. The risk? Christian must wear a wire and testify. The reward? Witness protection for Christian and his girlfriend and a modification of his prison sentence. Will Christian risk his life for a chance at freedom? Will the female sheriff “”get even”” with him? Or will his life end at the hands of the jail’s drug lords or a lunatic former cop?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Chapter 20

U.S.S. Just Kill Me Now

Once we were through that charade, Smith began to explain how it all worked.

“This is a Swiss-made Nagra recorder. It’s a little heavy, but it gets the clearest recording of any machine we have ever used. Once you turn the machine on, you must let it run until the two hours expire, then take the tape out and exchange it with another. We will come by every couple day to bring new tapes and pick up the ones you have recorded. Do you understand everything so far?”

I could feel my mouth go dry as I stared into the case and wondered, What the f*** have I gotten myself into?

Then, the sound of Smith’s voice snapped me back to attention, “Here, get a feel for it.”

I took the silver-cased recorder from him and thought to myself, It’s too heavy and clunky to ever be concealed. The recorder was the size as a Sony Walkman cassette player, but three times heavier. Two wires, four feet each, ran from the machine with white plastic heads attached to each end. I had a bad feeling about the size and shape of this thing. It would be a real concern later.

Then Rogers said, “Because the heads on this machine are so sensitive, we will tape the recorder to your upper thigh and run the wires around your leg until the heads sit directly under the waistband of your underwear.”

Out of frustration, I said, “Great, if I have to piss and someone saddles up next to me and happens to look over at my manhood, they’re gonna get an eyeful of recorder wiring. Chances are I will be beaten to death after that miscue.”

My mind kept going back to the obvious lack of insight these square, fed boys had toward the real life within a jail.

“I’m about to go back to a jail with zero airflow and 100-degree heat. We walk around in our boxers all day.”

It was crystal clear that neither of these agents gave a rat’s ass about my safety.

Smith said, “We’ll just have to tape it higher up your thigh.”

“No, how about we strap it up your ass and let you go up there face-to-face with your boy.”

That was all they wanted to hear of my sarcasm and all hell broke loose as we tried to figure out how this was ever gonna work. The real logistical nightmare hit when I finally dropped my jail uniform pants and pulled up my boxers to see how it would fit on my inner thigh. After several years of martial arts and weightlifting, my thighs were far too big to fit the recorder under my boxers. Two agents played with the leg of my underwear, as they slid the fabric up and down with no success in figuring out how to get the damn machine up under my nut sack. Finally, I had had enough.

I asked, “Does anyone here have a knife with them?” They all stared at me in stunned silence.

Rogers finally spoke up. “I have a pocketknife,” he said as he handed it to me.

I jerked my boxers off and stood there with my dick dangling in the wind for all to admire. I measured the boxers to see where this heavy sack of metal was going to be placed. I began cutting a crude square hole in the upper right leg of my underwear. I was pretty certain the recorder would fit snugly in the hole. I slid my boxers back on and held the recorder where I had just cut the hole. The fit was very good, but now there was a different problem.

The recorder showed, so I had to come up with another way to cover the hole. I decided that if I was gonna pull this off, I would have to wear a second pair of boxers over the first pair. The outer ones had to hang lower on my torso and loosely enough to cover the recorder where it stuck out of my underwear. The hope was that the inner pair would hold the recorder in place well enough so it wouldn’t slip around. If this worked, I might be able to get away with it.

In my mind, I was thinking, what a cluster f*** this operation is. This would soon prove to be the way the F.B.I. does everything. So long as they are getting what they want, all else be damned. But at the moment, I had to wear this heavy chunk of metal under my nuts and hope that it stayed put and didn’t fall from my boxers like the anchor of the U.S.S. Just Kill Me Now.

Rogers wrapped the recorder with the ACE bandage he had brought and stepped back long enough for me to give it a light tug. I tugged on it ever so gently and knew immediately that it was too heavy.

“This thing is not gonna stay on my leg while I spend several hours walking up and down the tier. Are you trying to get me killed?” I asked. “Did either of you think to bring duct tape?”

Barry Smith had the audacity to respond by saying, “I didn’t want to bring any because I did not want to take the chance of it being considered contraband here at the jail.”

“You thought to bring my suicide machine, but you thought duct tape would set off alarms?” I shot back.

By now, Williamson had heard enough and walked back to his office. He reappeared a few moments later with some heavy, clear packing tape. We used that over the ACE bandage that the feds had brought to hold the recorder up. I gave the new configuration another slightly harder tug and everything seemed better. We then moved on to the next logistical nightmare, the swapping out of the tapes. It was actually Walsh that brought it up.

“How can the tapes be retrieved from Christian without stirring up attention?”

I had seen a movie once where a thick book was carved out and contraband was kept in the hollowed-out hole inside.

“Hey, I have one of those super thick books by Michener. I think it is about ancient Israel. I could take a razor blade out when it is time to shave and cut a hole in the center pages of the book to make a cavity large enough for the tapes. What do you guys think?” I asked.

Everyone was nodding their heads in agreement.

“I can put the book in my bars on the rear side toward the catwalk where no one will notice anything different. I have about four or five books back there now. What I can do is reverse this book so that the title faces out. When Sergeant Walsh walks around the tier, that will be his cue to grab that particular book, take the tape out and replace it with a new one.” I suggested.

They all agreed with the plan, so with the tape swap seemingly figured out, I was feeling a little better. I stood up to see how the recorder looked under my pants; and to my surprise, I could not see it through the clothing. I felt ready to go back to the jail and put the second pair of shorts over the first.

Barry Smith handed me a piece of paper and said, “This is a private phone number to our office that we call the ‘Hello’ line.

“When it rings through, it will be at a central desk where all the agents can pick it up. They will only answer by saying ‘Hello.’ When the jail recording announces that it is a collect call, everyone knows to accept the charges. You will then be speaking to one of the agents in our office. If it is after hours, the answering machine will come on, so speak to it as if you were leaving a message for me or Agent Rogers.”

It both surprised and impressed me that he was willing to give me a direct line in case of an emergency. For the first time, I felt a little less like a disposable piece of trash to these people. I took a pen from Buchan and rewrote the number in code so that if it were ever found, no one could access the actual number. When I was done, I stuffed the paper in my sock for safekeeping.

I looked at the two F.B.I. agents and asked, “Am I supposed to steer the conversation toward any certain topics?”

Smith spoke for them. “Since the conversation seems to come out of Mason’s mouth so frequently, just let him go, and see what happens.”

Barry Smith then handed me a second tape to have as a backup for the one that was already in the machine. After stuffing it into my other sock, I walked out with the heavy recorder strapped under my balls.

When I arrived back to my tier, Scott was talking on the phone. I walked past him and headed to my cell to get out of the jail clothes. I stripped down to my boxers to beat the crazy heat that hung over the unit like napalm. I stuck my head out of my cell to make sure the hallway was clear and slipped the second pair of boxers over the first. After pulling the outer pair down a few inches, they seemed to cover the protruding recorder just enough. I looked down and couldn’t tell where the recorder was. Just to be on the safe side, I put on an oversized shirt and let it billow out as I walked; this looked natural for the surroundings. It wasn’t five minutes and Scott was at the bars of my cell.

“You go to the hospital?” he asked.

“Yeah, I had to wait for the MRI machine to empty before I could go in. The radiologist was taking a smoke break between every MRI.”

I walked out of my cell and turned left, away from the guard post and began the ritual of walking from one end of the long hallway to the other.

When I walked away from my cell, I could feel Scott place his hand on my back. I tried not to freeze out of panic, but he had never touched me like that before. I had to wonder, Is he cleverly checking for a recording device? I tried to push the paranoia out of my mind, but it was tough with the stakes this high.

About the Author:Glenn Painter is single and lives in Central Florida. He became interested in writing at an early age but did not make it his career until 2014 when he published his first book, Beyond the Sentence.

Glenn has written this story from the notes by the man who actually lived it. However, extensive research was also require in order to make the story factual.

Glenn has also founded a company, ‘Prisoner Civil Right Services.’ He is an advocate for incarcerated individuals who have had their rights violated. He is in constant contact with these individuals, their families and the council. Most of his stories are inspired by ‘factual events’ that have happened to these individuals. This makes his stories both fiction and non-fiction.

Glenn says that writing is very challenging, and you must love the trials and tribulations that come with it. He believes that patience, perseverance and determination are required essentials to see a book through to being published. The journey is just as important as the destination.

Website | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads | Twitter
Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble for $2.99.


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Without a Head by M. Glenda Rosen – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 15, 2021 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. M. Glenda Rosen will be awarding a $30 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Jenna Preston is used to investigating cheating spouses, fraud, and even a murder or two in her role as a private investigator. But she’s never consulted on a case quite like the one at Darcy’s Salon in East Hampton. A killer has struck and left behind a woman’s head in the upscale salon’s shampoo sink.

As Jenna struggles to make sense of the what’s happened, she comes up against entitled and badly behaved beach dwellers, greedy parties with motives all their own, and the billion dollar beauty industry. With her loyal dog Watson at her side, Jenna pieces together clues and tracks down a killer who claims victims that are dying to be beautiful.

Enjoy an Excerpt

As a Private Investigator, Jenna Preston had been hired to help solve murders, insurance fraud, cheating spouses and more. This was a new one for her.

She received what could only be described as a hysterical call from Darcy Monroe, owner of a popular, upscale hair salon in The Hamptons.

A head without its body was rolling around in one of her shampoo basins.

Almost five-feet, five-inches tall, always looking taller in her two or three-inch heels, Jenna had long red hair, blue eyes and was often seen driving around the East End in a white jeep, and in recent years, with her Irish Setter sitting next to her.

As a well-respected private investigator in the area, she told the salon owner, “I’ll be right there, and don’t touch anything until the police arrive.”

Jenna knew they needed to secure the business as a crime scene and Coroner Doc Bishop and Head of Forensics Lara Stern had to be brought in as well.

“Troy, someone left a head, without the body, in a shampoo bowl at Darcy’s Salon. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

”Damn it, Jenna, I nearly spilled my coffee listening to this bizarre message. I’ll be there within the half hour. Meantime, I’ll ask Lara to get over there to check the crime scene for prints and other possible evidence and for Doc to arrange to bring the head to the morgue. We’ll want to look at it there, after he’s had a chance to determine how it was cut off and anything else he might find.”

About the Author:

Marcia Rosen (aka M. Glenda Rosen) is author of ten books including The Senior Sleuths and Dying To Be Beautiful Mystery Series and The Gourmet Gangster, Mysteries and Menus (with her son Jory Rosen). She is also author of The Woman’s Business Therapist and award-winning My Memoir Workbook. Marcia was owner of a successful national marketing and public relations agency, received numerous awards for her work on behalf of business and professional women and has given many presentations, now as Zoom Events, such as: Encouraging the Writer Within You, Writing A Mystery…Not A Mystery, Book Marketing with Zoom and Podcasts, Writing From Your Soul, Memoir Writing and The Senior Sleuths & Dying To Be Beautiful Mysteries. Member of Sisters In Crime, Southwest Writers, Central Coast Writers and Public Safety Writers Association. Board Member, 2021, National Association of Independent Writers and Editors.

Sample of Scheduled Zoom Programs: The National Steinbeck Center (6 week program on About Being an Author), Shelter Island Library, an hour marketing presentation. Public Safety Writer’s Association Encouraging the Writer Within You, Central Coast Writers “About Being an Author,” Podcast Marketing for Southwest Writers, Murder on The Beach bookstore, Memoir Writing Sessions, Shelter Island and Westhampton Beach Library, “Writing Mysteries…Not A Mystery,” and other venues and topics for 2021.

The Senior Sleuths | Website | Amazon Author Page | Facebook |
Twitter | Instagram | Pinterst

Buy the book at Amazon.



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Heavenly Hazelnut Murder by CC Dragon – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 11, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes CC Dragon who is celebrating the recent release of Heavenly Hazelnut Murder, the second book in her Southern Belle Cozy Mystery series. Enter to win a fabulous Goody Bag and a FREE CC Dragon mystery book!

Everyone has secrets…even a pastor.

Life had been back to normal in Sweet Grove, with smoothie sales up and murders down to zero. With Gran’s shop doing well, Belle helps her best friend by tending bar at the Honey Buckle whenever needed. Belle tries her best to like Pastor Luke, who she’s been dating for the last few weeks, but when she finds out he’s been less than genuine, things end badly. Their break-up is epic gossip all around the small town.

When the pastor turns up dead, people rush to suspect her. Apparently, their fight about her spending so much time in a bar was overheard. Belle knows she didn’t do it, but who would kill a pastor? Who else would have a motive? With the handsome but romantically complicated sheriff asking her a lot of questions, Belle decides she needs to get to the bottom of it ASAP.

This had better be the last murder in Sweet Grove, or Belle’s amateur sleuthing might become a habit…

Reader advisory: This book contains references to parental abandonment, off-page murder and brief references to domestic abuse and infidelity.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Harry!” I shouted across the back of the Honey Buckle bar. “Keg change now, please!”

One of Katie’s brothers gave me a thumbs up and went to the back.

“Busy?” Lurlene teased as she nursed a margarita.

“As a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest, thanks for your concern,” I replied to my old high school nemesis. She and I had an uneasy truce, or she was being fake-nice. Sometimes it was hard to tell. In the south, people were nice when they were insulting a person to their face.

She smiled and glanced at my hands as I set down fresh coasters. “I could fix up your nails. A nice French tip or something. Clean but to actually show you’re a lady.”

“Thanks, but I do too much baking with Gran. I can’t risk any chips coming off in the dough,” I replied.

“Wear gloves. That’s how real places prep food. Yuck,” Lurlene said.

“Everything we do is homemade to the highest standards. Gran is a clean freak and you know it. But gloves are a good idea,” I admitted. “We use them at the shop, of course, but a lot is made at home.”

Katie sighed. “This is cute, you two actually talking nice for a minute, and we’re all happy you started cosmetology school, Lurlene, but Belle has customers. She’s here to work. Get yourself a life.”

Lurlene glared at Katie. That wasn’t normal for Katie at all. She got firm when needed with people who overindulged, but she’d never snap at paying customers. Maybe I was just off today?

“Sorry, it’s hard to be nice to customers and be efficient. We were cackling like hens. Where’s Martha?” I asked Katie. I had a degree in hospitality but the small town south had its own rules about being nice. I missed the city for the anonymity and the money. Still, Gran had had a few spells and needed someone around. My parents had run off after I was born, and my grandfather was dead, so it was down to me. I’d never minded being an only child before and I loved Gran to bits, but it’d be nice to have someone to share the pressure with—to run options with. But no, there was just me.

Martha, another friend from high school, was working tonight too. Katie pointed to the tables of thirsty patrons and I caught a glimpse of Martha in the crowd. “She’s got the tables now. You’ve got new guys at the bar. Keep ’em coming.”

I turned and smiled at the new guys. “What’s your poison?”

“Four beers,” one ordered.

I popped open four bottles of beer.

“We wanted tap,” he said, like I was an idiot.

I grinned. “People in hell want ice water. Keg is dead. I’m waiting for a change. You want it now? Then you get the bottle. Next round will be tap.”

They grumbled, but I kept a smile plastered on my face. More complaining and they might get a round half off, but I wasn’t giving it away because we were busy.

Martha walked up with a tray of empties. “Sorry, my ex called twice. Like he can’t watch his own kids for one night.”

Harry carried out a keg. “Make way, ladies. I’m here to rescue the bar.”

“How helpful.” Martha blushed.

“You could’ve checked the kegs before opening and been a real knight in shining armor,” I scolded.

“Have you met my sister? We’re going to waste the last five glasses in one keg because it’s close to change? That’s not how you make money,” Harry warned.

Katie poked me in the arm. “He’s right. Let him work, and you hit the blender. Girls’ night in the corner and they want another round of margaritas.”

“On it. Strawberry again?” I enjoyed the blended drinks. It felt like making smoothies at my own shop.

“Yep, then we’ll be out of strawberries, but they won’t care. If they want another round, switch them out to lime.” Katie waved it off and her many bangles jingled.

She looked like she should be running a bar. Always dressed like a cowgirl, Katie wore a tight T-shirt that promoted her establishment. Big jewelry and a big smile were part of her ensemble. Her family was a mishmash of a train wreck, like mine, so we’d been besties forever.

While Katie filled Martha’s orders for the tables, I blended up a bunch of frozen cocktails. Harry set up the keg and drew himself one.

I shot him a look. “Saw that. Not when you’re working.”

“Gotta test my work for quality.” He grinned. “It’s mostly foam, it’s for the customers. They’ll get a good pull.”

“Working okay?” I teased.

He nodded.

“Great. I think we’re stocked now up here, so take those dirty glasses with you to the back. Run a load of glasses, then we might need you bouncing. People seem to want a keg attached to their mouths.”

“You’re as bossy as my sister,” he said.

“I’m happy to run the dishwasher if you want to tend bar. Bouncing, that’s not me. I’m a tiny blonde. They’d just laugh at me.” I checked my image in the mirror behind the bar. My ponytail was still high and tight. Makeup was fine. I wore a Honey Buckle T-shirt, jeans and gym shoes with good support. What? No one saw my feet behind the bar. When I went out, I could rock heels like any good southern girl, but the right shoes for the right job…

“Fine. I don’t like dealing with people. I got a new job anyway. Day job,” Harry said.

“Congrats. But your sister needs you now and that’s what family is for.” I nudged the tray of empty glasses at him to clear.

He did and disappeared in the back.

I loaded the margaritas up on a fresh tray as Martha picked up another one ready for her tables. “He’s so nice,” Martha said.

“Harry? Yeah, a prince. He’ll want a hug for running the dishwasher. Need me to take these?” I asked.

“I’ll do it. You spill,” Katie cut in.

It was true. I’m not the best with a tray. When I tried to waitress once, I failed miserably and ended up working in coffee shops. “I slung coffee at Starbucks for years, but those cups generally had lids. Why does coffee always have a lid and alcohol so rarely does? Seems like people drinking booze would spill more,” I pondered.

Katie chuckled. “They spill it, they want more, so they’ll just buy more. Better for business not to have lids. Coffee people would just demand a free refill.”

“You really did find the perfect business to run,” I teased my best friend.

“Thanks. Gotta go introduce the band. Gus is sitting with them sometime tonight…hope that’s okay,” Katie said.

“Sure. I’ve been dating Luke for a few weeks. Gus is old news,” I said. Gus was the local sheriff who’d been flirting with me since he moved into town. Unfortunately, his past was more complicated than he’d let on. Everyone had a past, but if a man doesn’t ’fess up and the other woman still has the ring, it’s just too much drama for me. Even if the man was tall, handsome, musical and seemed good at heart.

Katie arched an eyebrow but headed off. As the band played, without Gus as of yet, the crowd calmed down to nurse their beverages instead of downing them like they were dying of thirst.

Martha and Katie made it to the bar and we restocked a bit before enjoying the music.

“What happened with Gus?” Martha asked.

“Nothing, I told you…we were solving a murder together. We also happened to run into his ex-fiancée at a dive bar. She gave him the ring back. Very weird. But I’m not looking for that sort of drama or a guy that fresh off of a super-serious relationship,” I said.

“You and Pastor Luke are a couple now? Rebound maybe, but it’ll never work,” Lurlene snarked.

“Oh, goodie, are we back to the mean girls thing?” I teased.

Lurlene shook her head. “I’m being nice here. See, people always think I’m being mean when I’m trying to be constructively kind and give them a heads-up on the rest of the world. How people really think. You’re too sweet and Katie is too polite to tell you, but the pastor isn’t going to get serious about someone with your history. Your past—it’s not your fault but it’s not a secret.”

“That’s a pretty crappy pastor,” Martha remarked then waved back at a table signaling her. “I’m going to make a round.”

“Thanks, Martha. Lurlene, quit it,” Katie warned.

“No, go on. A pastor is going to judge me for my parents running off after I was born and leaving me with Gran? They were young and clearly not ready to be parents. That’s not my fault. I was raised right by my grandparents,” I defended myself.

“That is all true. You even try extra hard to be a Goody Two-shoes, and he’s not going to judge you for their behavior…he’s going to judge you for yours. Running off to the big city alone,” she pointed out.

“Otherwise known as going to college,” I replied.

“Not all colleges are big-city ones. Plus you’re working in a bar. You’re simply not pastor’s wife material,” she said.

“We’re just dating! I’m not looking for a husband! Hey, has anyone seen Big Ed? I know I don’t work every night, but he was a regular and he’s been gone awhile.”

“He’s a long-haul trucker. He’ll be gone a week or so at a time. Then he’s home for a week or just a weekend. Give it a week or so and he’ll turn up—he always does.” Katie waved it off.

“Nice trying to dodge the topic. You’d be better off with a guy like Gus.” Lurlene winked.

Just then, Gus sat at the bar. “Are my ears burning?’

“Katie mentioned you’d be sitting in with the band. Guess you’re late,” I replied.

“Sitting in doesn’t mean their whole set. What’s this I hear about your grandmother letting the musicians park on her land?” he asked.

I lifted a shoulder. “She’s nice to people. They needed a place to park and I guess the trailer lots around town were full. That or the guys made too much noise.”

“Very charitable of her. Any trouble, you call me.” Luke appeared through the crowd like he’d been lurking and listening.

I did my best to mask my surprise. He sat on the other side of Lurlene and another guy sat next him. There was enough of a resemblance between them that I knew he had to be a cousin or some relation.

“Hey, what can I get you two?” I asked.

About the Author:A loyal Chicago girl who loves deep dish pizza, the Cubs, and The Lake, her close fam moved to TN so she ends up visiting the South more than she ever planned! CC Dragon is fascinated by the magical and paranormal as well as the quirks of the south. She loves creating characters who solve mysteries. A coffee and chocolate addict who loves fast cars, she’s still looking for a hero who likes to cook and clean…so she can write more!

First for Romance | Website | Instagram | Goodreads
Buy the book at the venue of your choice or First for Romance.

CC DRAGON IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GOODIE BAG AND GRAB YOUR FREE CC DRAGON MYSTERY BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 13th January 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. CC Dragon’s The Heavenly Hazelnut Murder Giveaway–

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Into the Devil’s Den: Snared by Their Own Lies by Ellen W. Martin – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

January 8, 2021 By 11 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Ellen W. Martin will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

For twenty-years Sam Steele lived with a lie gnawing at his conscience — for twenty-years his only child believed her mother was dead. Without warning his ex-wife springs from the ashes of the past and reaches out to him in his capacity as a veteran Immigration Custom Enforcement agent.

When Sam’s ex dumps a father’s living nightmare into his lap, he must choose between doing his duty as a law enforcer and jeopardizing his cherished relationship with his daughter. Circumstances beyond his control leave him no choice. Before he can seek forgiveness, TERRI ANNE disappears. Sam neglects his duties as an ICE agent and becomes obsessed in finding her. In the wake of his search he unravels a trail of murder, illegal Green Card marriages, and unveils a jihadist’s plot to launch a terror attack on American soil.

INTO THE DEVIL’S DEN – SNARED BY THEIR OWN LIES weaves a tangled tale of suspense, murder, and treachery. Each twisted circumstance is triggered by that one well-intended lie Sam Steele told his child — a lie that mushrooms into several more falsehoods and leaves multiple lives dangling by a single thread. The daunting task of facing the truth and the race against time pushes ICE agent Sam Steele’s integrity to the limit.

Enjoy an Exclusive Excerpt

RODNEY squeezed the telephone receiver with one hand and with the other dabbed the puddle of sweat in the folds of his neck. “Ah, come on, Gino, just a few more weeks. Ya know that kinda money doesn’t grow on trees.” He massaged his pounding temple. “All right, all right, you’ll get your dough by Wednesday.” Rodney slammed the phone into the cradle. “Bloodsucking bastard,” he murmured under his breath. He waddled to the dinette table, collapsed onto a chair.

His hand shook as he tipped the bottle and watched bourbon flow into the coffee cup. Damn unpredictable college teams. Next year he’d only bet professional. With one gulp, he downed the liquid fire, and then filled the cup again. It wasn’t his fault he was having a run of bad luck lately. Hadn’t he always paid his gambling debts? Where does Gino get off making cracks about his will being up to date? That just wasn’t funny.

Rodney grabbed the last miniature-powdered donut from the package and popped it into his mouth. When Sylvia finally paid him that SOB Gino was gonna wipe out the major chunk of his nest egg.

Rodney’s hand shook as he picked up his coffee cup. Thank the blessed Saints he had collected plenty of dope on Rashid and that cousin of his. A steady income was assured as long as that “Pretty Boy” kept chasin’ pussy. Rodney’s heart skipped a beat, unless Sylvia shot the bastard and the girl. If that happened, unfortunately the rules changed all together. Nah, that squirrely bitch wouldn’t have the nerve to pull the trigger. Not even Sylvia would be heartless enough to shoot her own kid.

About the Author: A proud wife of a retired Air Force officer, mother of one son and grandparent of three grandchildren, Ellen, didn’t start writing until retirement years, and even then she considered writing a hobby. In 2019 she published a historical fiction, SONS OF CUBA, a two book series. INTO THE DEVILS DEN is her third publication. During the early months while COVID-19 was wreaking havoc through the nation and around the world, she took the opportunity to write another suspense thriller entitled SHATTERED LOYALTIES which she hopes will be published and released sometime in 2021.

The Martin’s call the snow-white beaches and emerald waters near Northwest Florida home.

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