New release! Secrets of the Ravine by Brenda Whiteside

Secrets of the Ravine by Brenda Whiteside

An unsolved murder and the disappearance of her love decades ago
are back to haunt Magpie MacKenzie.

Solve the murder or become the next victim…

Have you ever walked into a room and felt you’ve been there before? Or have you met someone and instantly thought you’ve always known them? Have you made plans, but you hesitate to see them through, and you don’t know why you have such an ominous feeling?

I can say yes to all of these. Maybe because I’m a child of the sixties, a wannabe hippie, my mystical beliefs are strong. Auras, déjà vu, intuition, crystals, empathic visions, and the universe all speak to me. I’m not gifted, I believe whole heartedly.

A couple of decades ago, we were gathered in a room with other parents and a group of Austrian boys who had come to our town to play hockey. We were going to house one of the young men in our home. I glanced at the group and immediately locked gazes with the blue eyes of Harte, and I experienced a moment of feeling like I’d known him forever. When they drew names, Harte was chosen for us. Coincidence? I think not. We’ve been fast friends from afar ever since. And I’m convinced we knew each other in another time and will again.

In my latest novel (released on 9/15/2020), Secrets of The Ravine, book one of The MacKenzie Chronicles, my characters use a little bit of the mystical to solve a decades old murder and prevent their own demise. The series is set in present-day Joshua, Arizona, an 1800s mining town, turned ghost town, turned hippie haven, and now a tourist town, hanging on the side of Spirit Mountain.

The mystery and suspense unfold in present-day Joshua, using three points of view. Within this present-day story is a tale that chronicles the life of Magpie’s father, Frank. Clues to the present are found in Frank’s past from the time he settled in the hippie haven, The Ravine, on the outskirts of Joshua, to the present when he is likely to be charged with murder.

Have you ever experienced déjà vu or an empathic moment? Intuition? I’d love to hear.

Blurb:
When a ringer for her long-dead love walks into her life the same day skeletal remains are found at the edge of town, Magpie MacKenzie can’t ignore what the universe is telling her…solve the mystery, or become the next victim.

Lawyer Zack Peartree’s life is orderly and entanglement-free until he visits purportedly haunted Joshua, Arizona, and meets free-wheeling shopkeeper Magpie. Despite experiencing troubling visions and odd moments of déjà vu, Zack’s instantly drawn to Magpie and to the unsolved murder which troubles her so.

Using clues from her father’s past and Zack’s déjà vu moments, Magpie and Zack race to solve the mystery, avoid a murderous fate, and to discover their future…together.

About Brenda:
Brenda WhitesideBrenda Whiteside is the author of suspenseful, action-adventure stories with a touch of romance. Mostly. After living in six states and two countries—so far—she and her husband have decided they are gypsies at heart, splitting their time between Central Arizona and the RV life. They share their home with a rescue dog named Amigo. While FDW is fishing, Brenda writes.

Visit Brenda at https://www.brendawhiteside.com

Or on FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/brendawhitesid2

She blogs and has guests: https://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003V15WF8

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3972045.Brenda_Whiteside

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/brenda-whiteside

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

Be it ever so humble… #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Blurb:
Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. He aims to become headmaster of Westover Academy. For that he needs a particular, special woman to help him set high standards. Into his cut and dried life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Daniel is drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.

Buy link:

Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt:
Question: What can cause a grown man to return home, despite his rarely even visiting in years?
Answer: A woman he’s obsessed with or a crisis. Or maybe a woman he’s obsessed with who’s in a crisis.

“Daniel, am I talking to myself, here?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” He chuckled an amused admission. “Tell me what you said again.”

He could almost hear Eve smile. “I said, you called at four-thirty on Saturday and Sunday, so I took a wild leap that you would today, too.”

“Ah.” Smiling to the empty room, he squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. “A woman of logic.”

“Absolutely. You don’t want to play me in chess. I think five or six moves ahead.”

“I’ll remember that. There’s nothing worse than seeing a guy cry when he’s been beaten at chess by a girl. Now tell me why you’re upstairs. I know you don’t have a lot of help this time of day.”

“I’m paying Jed extra to come in a bit early.” Her voice was low, as though she didn’t really want to tell him. The words struck his heart.

“You don’t have money to be paying Jed extra, Eve. I’ll start calling later, after dinner and before I grade papers.”

“No, don’t. It’s quiet this time of day and I want these few minutes to myself. Jed doesn’t mind, and he can use a few extra bucks.”

“Well, okay.”

“Besides, you won’t be calling forever. Soon you’ll be head of the school and won’t have free time for the likes of me.”

Daniel hadn’t promised her on Friday that he’d call. He’d simply felt the desire and acted on it. Then, by unspoken agreement, they hadn’t mentioned what might happen next in their relationship. They’d spent time sharing that day in their respective worlds.

Today, he’d discovered the desire to talk to Eve wasn’t an “at loose ends” feeling that sometimes came over him on weekends. After his dorm assistant had arrived, Daniel had locked his doors, put his books and papers away, and picked up the phone. Only after they’d been well into the fantasy did he remember he hadn’t even removed his gown and jacket before pressing her number. He’d wanted to hear her, find out what her day had been like and communicate his own. He felt seventeen again, with an infatuation about to drive him crazy. Except men his age didn’t have infatuations. They had obsessions.

“Hey,” Eve charged, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, like I was hunting for compliments or reassurances. I was simply stating a fact, the way we both know it to be. I want this to be short term as much as you do, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

But he was. How long did obsessions last, anyway? Daniel had never allowed himself to be distracted by a woman or anything that might waylay his goals.

Until now.

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A spy in the making? #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!
Perilous Love by Jan SelbournePerilous Love
Blurb
Europe is on the brink of the First World War. Gabrielle and Adrian, their marriage on the rocks, are thrust into a world of territory lies and deceit. Not knowing who to trust, they find themselves fleeing for their lives across war torn Europe, the brutal German forces are hot on their heels, determined not to let them escape. Adrian is between the devil and the deep blue sea as he’s accused of treason and doesn’t know what awaits him back in England. All he does know is he must reunite his family safely back in England. Will this mend their broken marriage or tear them apart forever? The odds are stacked against their survival. Will they have what it takes to overcome obstacles?

Buy Links
Amazon
B&N
Goodreads

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt
Adrian Bryce nodded to the doorman of Number 2, Whitehall Court, Westminster and walked briskly towards the waiting car.  While not handsome in the classical sense, his immaculate attire, bearing and manner was one of wealth, authority and confidence.  He was a man who gives orders, never receives them.  His dark eyes set in an angular face barely concealed his anger and worry.  He knew, along with everyone else with a brain, that war was looming in Europe.  Since the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, rumours and intrigue and political double talk had been flying through Britain and the Continent.

Now, because of his family connections in Europe, he’d been ordered to accompany his wife and children on their annual visit to her stifling Belgian relatives who’d never emerged from the Victorian era.  It did not matter to the men at Whitehall Court that he and his plain boring wife of eight years, the mother of his plain, boring children, had lived separate lives for five years.  His wife was related to aristocratic families both here and in Europe and had been introduced to him at a diplomatic reception and as both were expected to marry well, he thought it a good match at the time.  However, their honeymoon proved they had nothing in common except for them to do their duty and produce children.  For the last five years they’d rarely spent time together except for the annual Christmas rituals and the children’s birthdays.  He preferred his townhouse in London, she and the children lived at their country home in Kent.

As the car turned in the direction of the small elegant lodgings in Bruton Street, his mind and body were anticipating what would be waiting for him.  Beautiful, voluptuous, passionate, pleasing Maryanne, Christ he was becoming hard thinking about her.  He couldn’t wait to push his head between her magnificent breasts and soak in her body.  He’d enjoyed the charms of several women but never before had he experienced anything like the heat and passion that Maryanne gave.  She was expensive, but she was worth every penny he spent on her.

Stepping out of the car, he told the driver not to wait, opened the ornate door and strode up the thickly carpeted staircase and into the beautifully furnished rooms.

‘Adrian, my darling,’ she put out her hands to him. ‘You have kept me waiting, you dreadful man.’  The beautiful, auburn haired woman pouted playfully then smiled, highlighting her high cheekbones and tawny eyes.  Her husky accent inflamed his lust even more and he pulled her to him.  She mouthed ‘wait’, dropped her loose robe to the floor, and then her warm breath was against his ear.

‘Darling, I cannot wait a minute longer.’ Taking his hand, she led him to the adjoining bedroom.  Neither wanted foreplay, both desperately wanted release and it came quickly.  Collapsing on the pillows, they smiled at each other.

‘Why do you keep me waiting?’ she tickled his chest.  ‘Your note tells me one time and you arrive at another.  Is there another woman you prefer to me?’

‘I wouldn’t have the strength,’ he chuckled.  ‘I was delayed at a rather important meeting.  I’m now obliged to travel to Brussels, my sweet.  Will you miss me?’

‘Brussels?  Why must you go away?’ She stroked his cheek.  ‘I will be alone and so hot thinking of you.’

‘Family duty.  I must accompany my wife to visit her relatives.’  He wanted to tell her more.  She was intelligent and her conversation refreshingly different from the polished, elegant, brittle women of his class. But he couldn’t, the real reason was classified.  He shrugged.  ‘Some of my investments in Belgium and France need my personal attention.’

‘You have so many investments.  You will be away from me forever,’ she sulked.

‘I know what I’ll be thinking of while I’m away.  Tell me where you were born. France or Belgium?’

‘On the border, I do not have happy memories.  I have told you all this, my papa was German.  He lost all his money and disappeared.  My mother struggled to feed and clothe us. Not one of his horrible family cared about us.  I hated them all,’ she pushed his fingers into her moist folds.  ‘Why are you accompanying your wife?  You never accompany her anywhere.  Don’t you love me anymore?’

He watched her eyes glaze with pleasure as his fingers pushed deeper into her wetness.  His lips touched her nipples and he felt her hips grinding against him.  Then she cried out and clutched at him as her body shuddered with its shattering climax.

Mon Dieu, je vous adore,’ she whispered and moved down his body to his painfully swollen organ.  Her lips enclosed him, her tongue drove him up and up and he was lost.

God Almighty, she gave as good as she got every time.  Slowly opening his eyes, he ran his fingers through her auburn hair, ‘Not love you?   Christ, I can’t get enough of you.’

‘Darling, let me get up so we may drink some wine.’

He lay back on the huge pillows and watched her naked body move to the bottle and crystal glasses waiting on the dressing table.  She was beautiful.

‘Who is so important you must visit in Brussels all of a sudden?’ She pouted crossly and handed a glass to him.

‘The Comte de Meyvier, the patriarch of Gabrielle’s Belgian family. She spent a lot of her childhood in Belgium,  I can’t stand him and I’ve avoided most family occasions for years but I’m afraid I must go this time,’ he savoured the wine on his tongue and gestured for her to refill his glass.  ‘He has a lot of influence in banking and commerce.’

***

An hour later he looked at his watch and at Maryanne.  ‘I must leave, my sweet.’

Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘Will you think of me?’

‘Think of you?  I won’t think of anything else. I’ll send you notes and will inform you when I’m due to return.’  He pushed a little packet into her hands.  ‘Don’t even think of looking at another man.’

Adrian walked back towards his club with a small smile on his face.  Maryanne had been his mistress for three months and he was besotted with her.  She instinctively knew what he wanted as soon as he walked in her door, whether it be passionate sex or to talk over a bottle of wine.  His mind drifted back three months to that overcrowded reception for German and French industrialists.  He’d turned and bumped into her standing behind him.  She’d smiled at his profuse apologies and said she’d forgive him if he fetched her a glass of champagne.  The next morning, he sent her a note with a posy of flowers asking permission to call on her.

A week later she was installed in the small but comfortable townhouse.  Many times since then, she’d asked him if he loved her and he always assured her he did.  But he didn’t.  He couldn’t remember loving any woman.  Obsessed with lust over her, yes, but actually in love?  No.  And he would never fall into that trap.  His satisfied smile disappeared. The meeting today had worried him intensely.  Like it or not, he must travel to Brussels immediately.

***

Maryanne waited until she heard the front door close before opening the packet.  A diamond and pearl necklace twinkled up at her.  She kissed it lightly, murmuring in German how beautiful it was, then sat down and pulled the perfumed notepaper and pen towards her.

Thanks for reading!
Jan
https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne/
https://twitter.com/JanSelbourne
https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/
https://nomadauthors.com/

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Alana Lorens: Strong women and why I write them

1911

Alana Lorens
My grandmother and her kitty

As a romance (and also sci-fi/fantasy) writer, one of my goals is always to have a strong woman as a central character. Why is this? They’re more interesting. They have more resources, mentally and physically. They’re just more fun to write!

My mentor and best example of a strong woman is my grandmother, Mildred Moore Ogle. Today would be her 109th birthday. Born in 1911, when strong women were discouraged, she grew up in Indiana farmland, daughter of a well-to-do family. She was the only girl child; her two brothers were educated well, as was the custom of the day. She didn’t get to go to college.

Her brothers went on to join the military. Jim would become a decorated Navy veteran who survived Pearl Harbor. Paul was captured by the Japanese and died as a prisoner of war. That left her as the one who stayed home, doing what women did at the time, learning to care for a home and family.

She inherited the family home in Bunker Hill, Indiana, an old brick two-story that was a homestead farm established by her parents in 1883. She married a man who’d worked in a bakery, but gave up his job to come live with her and learned to run the farm. He may have worn the overalls, but for those of us who saw their relationship later, I’d definitely say she wore the pants.

They had two children, one of whom was my mother. My grandmother

My square-dancing grandparents

proved to be too strong for my mother, and she spent her life trying to avoid contact. Her son, on the other hand, did his Navy service, then returned to the area with his family. They grew up close to my grandmother and experienced her strength, as my grandfather passed, and she continued running the farm business on her own, keeping it a success even through the difficult economy years.

As for me, and my three sisters, we grew up with our fathers. This provided the opportunity to visit with my grandmother, who we called Maudie, after she came to take care of us during a mumps infection blitz. She said, “Just call me Maude the maid,” and it stuck. Over the years, she came to be the woman who filled our need for female mentorship. She really tried to make sure we had the “family” influence in our lives.

Zinnias–my grandmother’s flower

She succeeded. We wanted to be like her. To this day, we all try to cultivate zinnias, because of the gardens she grew. We admire and collect Fiestaware because that’s what she served her home cooked meals on. We eat rhubarb and rice and raisins because that made us feel loved at her table.

The woman with a spine of steel and limitless determination lived to the age of 93, and she continues to inspire us. Let’s celebrate the strong women we know and we write about! We owe them the world. Who’s your favorite strong woman, real-life or fictional?

BIO:
Alana LorensAlana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, she loves her time in the smoky blue mountains. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, two crotchety old cats, and five kittens of various ages.

ROMANCE/suspense Alana Lorens

Website  https://wordpress.com/page/alana-lorens.com/21
Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/AlanaLorens/
Goodreads   https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4829967.Alana_Lorens

Amazon Author Page  https://www.amazon.com/Alana-Lorens/e/B005GE0WBC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

SCI-FI/ fantasy Lyndi Alexander

Website https://lyndialexander.wordpress.com/
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lyndialexander13/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4185290.Lyndi_Alexander

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Lyndi-Alexander/e/B005GDYPU2/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lyndi-alexander

Make me laugh! #MFRWauthor

CharactersOver the years of reading, I’ve fallen in love with angsty characters (ooo-la-la, Mr. Darcy!), sweet characters (Donald in Finding Camlann), quirky characters (Don in The Rosie Project), and any number of alpha males (any of the SEALS in Suzanne Brockmann’s books). But the character that will steal my heart for real, is the one who shows humor. That goes for male or female. If a character makes me laugh, that’s most often a 5-star read for me.

I love good banter. Whether characters hate each other or feel that first Banter and humor in dialoguespark of electricity, if they also share a great back and forth in their dialogue, I consider that a winner. Sarah Ney has written a series called How to Date a Douchebag, and all of them contain great banter, Her books make me laugh—and a few have made me tear up. Spectacular interaction. In fact, while writing this post I started reading one of the books in the series again. So, if you’ll excuse me, I plan to add a little humor to my afternoon.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist
One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

N.N. Light’s Backlist Bonanza: Jenna Stewart

Some of you might not know, but I write under three pen name: Dee S. Knight (mostly), Anne Krist, and Jenna Stewart. Jenna writes steamy menage romance–some historical and some shifters. Explore her books on https://nomadauthors.com

For the Backlist Bonanza, I’m offering the first in a series of menage historical books, Regan. I hope you enjoy the backlist bonanza! There are lots of fine authors gathered under this umbrella, and one lucky winner will win a copy of each of our books! I will featured on August 28!

N.N. Light's Backlist Bonanza

Looking to fill your e-readers? I’ve teamed up with over 30 authors to give you 66 must-read backlist reads. Check it out as well as the giveaway: https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/bookpromos/categories/backlist-bonanza

Regan:
Regan by Jenna StewartJoining in the westward migration, Davey and Regan O’Ryan Stone bought an Oregon farm sight unseen, hungering for adventure. Davey regretted the impulse far past the point of no return, and then he died. Now, unskilled and alone on her farm, Regan fears going home a failure—as a daughter, a wife and a farmer. With money quickly running out, she gladly accepts the offer of help from Seth Pratt, an acquaintance from the wagon train, and his friend Haywood Lawrence.

One-armed Seth seeks work at the remote farm at the end of an Oregon trail with low expectations. When he finds Regan, alone and widowed, he tamps down desire. She deserves better than a man handicapped in war, searching for his soul. She’s worthy of someone like his Shakespeare-spouting, best friend, Hay. Nothing could have prepared Seth for Regan’s simple solution—that both men stay. On the farm and in her bed.

Buy on Amazon

Binge-Worthy Book Festival: One Woman Only!

I’m always excited to be part of N.N. Light’s promotions! They’re the best–because there’s not only author and book information, but the chance to win prizes!!

N.N. Light Binge-worthy book festivalCalling all readers! Feed your book addiction with N. N. Light’s Book Heaven Binge-Worthy Book Festival. 68 books featured plus a chance to win one of the following:

Enter to win a $50 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $50 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $25 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $15 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $10 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

I’m thrilled to be a part of this event. My book, One Woman Only, is featured today, [August 28]. I even talk about my first binge-worthy book I read. You won’t want to miss it.

Bookmark this get-together and tell your friends:

https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/bookpromos/categories/binge-worthy-book-festival

N. N. Light’s Book Heaven Binge-Worthy Book Festival

No time like the present #MFRWauthor

Writing romanceWhile I have dipped my toe into the future and the past with my writing, I feel most comfortable writing in present, contemporary time. Maybe it’s because I’m lazy? I don’t know. But writing historical fiction takes a fair amount of research if your books come out sounding true. And there’s a lot to keep up with if you build future worlds. (Same is true if you create series in contemporary time, I’ve discovered!) But because of our trucking years, we traveled over a lot of the country and I feel pretty happy drawing on our experiences to write about all kinds of locations.

And it is important to write truthfully about locations—unless you make up your city or town. I know someone who couldn’t get beyond the first few pages of Fifty Shades of Gray because she said it was so obvious the author knew nothing about Seattle! A reader recently pointed out that I had a horse eating straw instead of hay. Oops! Those kinds of mistakes are always on the author, and whatever time period you write, it’s vital to get details correct.

The biggest thing to remember about writing, no matter the time period,How to write is that we are telling a story. Make it a good one. Show, don’t tell, Engage the reader’s emotions. Have a great beginning, middle, and end. Mind your craft (grammar, punctuation, POV, etc.). Pay attention to details. If you do these things, you will be read (which is what we all want) regardless of the time period you choose.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist
One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

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Ménage a many #MFRWHooks

Bride of the Pryde by Dee S. KnightThis is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Blurb:
DAT agent Susan McAllister escapes Earth with killers in hot pursuit. She normally runs toward danger not away, and she likes controlling her own fate, not relying on three strange men and an irreverent cyberbot. Skilled and experienced, she doesn’t believe there’s any way the three crewmen of the cargo ship Erik’s Pryde can help her.

Captain John Erik thinks the sexy, headstrong passenger is nothing but trouble, but he also knows she needs help. And not being men to shrink from adventure, he’s convinced that he and his crew are the ones to provide it. When they’re infected by an illegal drug that releases inhibitions, the crew of the Pryde shows they are men who not only can fight, but can satisfy a woman’s every fantasy.

It’s no surprise when Susan discovers that being a member of the Pryde’s crew has unexpected, lasting benefits.

This is a futuristic space romp!

Buy link:

Kindle
Barnes & Noble
Kobo

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:

The smell hit Susan McAllister first. The sharp scent of iron, immediately recognizable, stung her nostrils and madeher gag. Then she noticed the door, normally locked at all times, hung open a crack.

She’d been ready to call out that she’d brought back French pastries from the restaurant where she enjoyed an early lunch but instead dropped the white bakery bag on the back steps. Removing her Renthaur X-89 laser pistol from her oversized shoulder bag, she inched forward and released the safety. She eased open the door and stepped inside and then pushed it nearly closed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust from sunlight to the dim interior.

The office fronted as a real estate agency but actually served as Centre District’s Domestic Anti-Terrorism headquarters. Susan had arrived that morning from the global headquarters in Mt. Saussat. In fact, if not for the fact that she never ate while flying and wanted an early lunch upon arrival, she would have been here for whatever shit had gone down.

Hugging the wall, she edged toward the workroom where her close friend and office manager, Lisle Hamilton, had set up the hologram generator, coffeepot, and storage shelving that helped form their cover of handling real estate. Behind an encrypted-lock vault door and out of sight, secure phones and code-deciphering, sub-particle computers were used for the real business of the storefront.

The Centre City office took a lot of ribbing in the Agency because of their cover. The joke was, what’s more boring than a DAT agent on desk duty? A realtor. What’s deadly boring? A DAT gent on desk duty posing as a realtor.

Deadly boring? The overwhelming scent of blood seemed to prove it. Criminy. What in hell happened?

Susan dropped to a crouch at the corner where the back hall entered the workroom. Pistol aimed up and grasped with two hands in classic shooter pose, she slowly leaned forward and peeked into the workroom.

Blood had begun to congeal where it covered the floor. Mark Nichols, who she’d just met that morning, lay on his back, his right hand inside his jacket pocket as though reaching for his weapon. Anne Barnewell lay face down. The size of the hole in the back of her head indicated a Succher 380, the weapon of choice for big-time drug dealers.

Also for cops’ personal weapons. The thought ran quickly through her mind and left just as fast.

The workroom connected to the main office by a swinging door of louvered wood, reminiscent of mid-twentieth-century architecture. From under the door she saw the body of Kyle Angustino, the son of one of Lisle’s friends and an actual real estate intern who had nothing to do with the DAT. Six people worked in the office, including Kyle, five of whom were DAT agents. Susan had no hope any of them were alive unless, like her, they’d been out of the office when hell struck.

The place appeared to be empty, but Susan didn’t change her position. Instead, she examined everything in her line of sight and listened with an intensity that had her shoulders tight with tension. Peering along the wall to the left she scrunched her brows in worry. The vault door stood ajar.

The only person in the office who had the combination was Lisle. A woman’s foot extended out the door, her burgundy shoe half-off. Lisle!

Her friend had bragged about the “killer burgundy pumps with little gold bows” when Susan had called to make arrangements to use one of the office cubicles for the week she would be in Centre City. They’d gone through Agency training together, and their paths crossed regularly. Later she would grieve for Lisle, but right now she needed to keep her wits about her and her emotions in check.

The bell over the front door tinkled, indicating someone entering from the street. A woman said, “Here’s a box for—Oh, dear God, what is this? What’s going on here?” There was no answer. Then, “No, please, no! Oh—”

Susan heard the unmistakable sound of the Succher firing and then a loud noise as something fell to the floor.

“What the hell?” A man pushed the vault door farther open. All that showed was a cuff-linked, white-shirted arm and a hand with long fingers. “What’s going on out there?”

“Nothing,” came a male voice from the front. “I didn’t have the keys to lock the door. I thought pulling the blinds would be enough to make people think we were closed. Forgot about delivery people.”

“Goddamn it. Go through Hamilton’s purse, for Christ’s sake, and find the keys.”

“Okay,” the guy in the front grumbled.

“Jesus, I have to do everything,” Vault Man said.

Susan pulled back. The lead guy knew Lisle’s name. Because he knew her or because of information gleaned while there? And how did he know about the vault room? Had he come to the office because of it, or had he and his buddy happened into the office and thought the heavy door hid more than it did? She dismissed that idea right away because really, who in the world robbed a realtor’s office? So, assuming they already knew about the vault and Lisle, the conclusion was ominous—the murderers were associated with DAT.

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New shifter release! Augustina Van Hoven’s The Curse

The Curse by Augustina Van HofenThe Curse

Blurb:
Juliet Cooper never thought that inheriting a piece of forest land from her great uncle could cost her life. There’s something located on her property that members of the hidden community would kill for. Can she trust the handsome stranger she met on her land and can he protect her from what is coming?

Prince Laren is still suffering under a curse, in daylight he’s a man but at night he’s transformed into a cat. The battle lines are being drawn in the hidden community and threaten to engulf the world of humans as well. Can he get the curse removed and reacquire his powers in time to save the beautiful woman with the violet eyes?

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Read about Augustina’s The Hidden

Author bio and links:
Augustina Van HofenAugustina Van Hoven was born in The Netherlands and currently resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, dog and two cats.   She is an avid reader of romance, science fiction and fantasy.  When she’s not writing she likes to work in her garden or in the winter months crochet and knit on her knitting machines.

Website: https://augustinavanhoven.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/augustinavhoven
FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/Augustina-Van-Hoven/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/augustinavhoven/
Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Augustina-Van-Hoven/e/B06Y3JKV7T%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
Bookbub page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/augustina-van-hoven
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