- ASIN : B07MXNWG8Q
- ISBN-13 : 978-1945631375
- Publisher : That's What She Said Publishing, Inc.
Author of "The Savior" and "Salt of the Earth" Lover of Fun, Food, and Frolic Reader of Romance, Adventure, and Bodice Rippers
Professional beekeeper, amateur sleuth Josiah Reynolds has been in a deep state of depression, with no idea of what's causing it. Been there, done that. But a murder once again not only makes her s suspect--when a bully harasses a friend of hers--but turns her life upside down again. What better way to get yanked out of your funk. Not to mention a visit from her wayward sociopath daughter, Asa.
There's a bit of dark humor in this story but damn the danger mounts up too. As always, it takes the Reynolds women to find their way to the truth and save everyone. Except the murderer.
Abigail Keam has once again pieced together a complicated mystery with a cast of great characters. Everyone is so real in these stories that you feel like you know them. I feel like every single one of them could be a neighbor or someone I've met along the way. Living in Lexington makes it even more real. The plotting is so well paced that I finished this book and never felt the time pass. Brilliant story, brilliant writing, brilliant characters. No wonder Ms. Keam is a master at her craft.
Another 5 out of 5 stars.
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I wrote this a couple of years ago for a project. A friend of mine published a series of flash fiction for Halloween. Sadly, it was the last piece I wrote for such a purpose, but I loved the story, based on a dream I'd had long ago. With Halloween being right around the corner, I decided to dust it off and share it again.
Kaleidoscopic Hell
Jesse V Coffey
That’s the last time I
hit a frat party at Daemonium Biblical College.
Did you know that the
night before Halloween is referred to as Devil’s Night? The real night
of Trick or Treat. And the night that every frat and sorority on campus decided
to get wild. My best friend wanted to go. Her boyfriend was in the PolyOmega
fraternity. I figured, sure. We can keep each other pure, fight off the horny
frat boys. So, I went with her, carrying my can of pepper spray in my pocket. I
was damned if I was going to carry my purse with me. I stuck my dorm key in my
sock and brought nothing more than my school ID and my driver’s license, that I
stuck in my back pocket.
See, I was still a
virgin in those days. I know, I know. It’s old fashioned to want to save
yourself for marriage, but the truth was, with all the diseases flying around,
pregnancy was just a small part of it. I didn’t expect any of these guys to
have condoms and I wasn’t in the mood for it with anyone I didn’t know. It just
seemed safer. You know?
I saw it as soon as we
walked in the door. Halloween. I should have known that this was going to get
crazy. An upside down pentacle on the floor. The frat boys were all dressed in
black.
“Great. A bunch of
Satanist wannabes.” I grabbed her sleeve.
“Come on, Jamie,” she
said. “It’s just a party. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Bullshit, I thought.
But she drove. And I didn’t feel like walking the mile to the sorority dorms.
But I had my hand in my pocket, hanging on to the pepper spray. Come near me and you’re gonna get the
surprise of your life, dirt bag.
I was given a cup of
what tasted like hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps in it. Oh, I love that
stuff. I could drink my weight in it. The boys started their party—if you wanna
call it that. And that feeling of needing to run just kept getting stronger and
stronger. But that drink was getting to me. My spidey sense said go, but my
feet said, up yours. I wasn’t moving. They started chanting in deep voices,
saying shit that I had no idea what it was they were saying.
Lainie left me at that
point, to walk through the crowd and I told myself, Jamie, this ain’t no party
and it damn sure ain’t no disco. There will be absolutely no fooling around. I
swallowed the rest of the drink as she was escorted to a sort of a table and
after they stripped her bare, they laid her on it. And, if a bunch of sick
jerks have anything like love in ‘em, they lovingly laid her on it.
The world started to
spin a little. And I hear this voice in the back of my head. A voice that
sounded like it had seen way too many cigarettes, because it was raspy and
really deep. My eyes darted around, trying to find who was talking, but none of
them were facing me.
“She’s not a virgin.
She is unacceptable. You promised me a virgin.”
My body was going numb,
my skin tingling as it did. The chanting faded slowly, slowly disappearing into
what little light there was in this room and that was fading too. Did I imagine
being lifted? I don’t know because the darkness was invading my sight until all
I knew was black. I felt nothing. Saw nothing. Heard nothing. What the…what is going on?
The drink had to be
spiked but with what?
Am I dying? Why can’t I see? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?
Then it began.
My senses were
assaulted by colors and smells. The scent of rot and syrupy flesh. Rotted
fruit, that’s what it smelled like. And underneath that, if death had a smell,
it was meat that had spoiled after being out in the sun for too long. That
disgusting, cloying smell of maple syrup and maggots and trash and puke. I
wanted to puke. And I hate to puke. But I wanted to. And I wanted to stop
breathing. If I stopped breathing, then the smell wouldn’t go up my nose or in
my mouth.
The colors; oh my God,
the colors. I had an uncle that grew up in the sixties that told me about his
first LSD trip. The closest I ever came was a peyote button, but I totally got
it. This was exactly like that. My head filled with colors, changing shapes and
sizes. A constant and ever present kaleidoscope of reds and yellows and oranges
and greens and blues. I was wrapped in a blanket of colors. It wasn’t just that
flood, it was the sense of heat from the reds and oranges. The freezing from
the blues and greens.
“What? After I chose
to honor you?”
I could hear screaming
now. The feeling was slowly coming back into my body and that heat in my belly
was painful. And icy cold. The screaming was louder and louder. I was fighting,
trying to move. If I could feel, I had to be able to move. I must be able to
move. I needed to move!
I heard my own voice
now. “Honor? What do you mean honor? Let me go. Get out of my head and let me
go. What are you doing to me? Who are you?”
“You’ll see, my pet.
It’s getting quite fun out here. I suppose I could give you a taste of the
delights.”
More screaming. Male.
Female. The sound of things hitting the wall. Bodies flying into furniture and
floor. Angry screaming. Frightened screaming. And always with the colors like a
nonstop stream of vomit over me, around me, through me. The pain was intense.
Still intense. I felt it flying up my throat and out my mouth. The place
between my thighs was throbbing with its own pain, deep inside my womb.
I felt buffeted around,
browns and blacks battering my hips and belly. My legs and ribs. I couldn’t
find my arms, so I couldn’t fend off the blows. More screaming. An angry voice
was filtering through. Whoever it was, was severely pissed off. I stopped
struggling, not wanting to see who the cursing person was. I didn’t want to be
anywhere near whoever that was. Growling. Fury.
“Fun, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what
you’re talking about.”
“No. But I’ll show
you. And I always say, let my will be done.”
Slowly the pain abated.
Slowly the colors faded down from the bright attack, dulling down to the black
again. And then, the darkness faded back, light returning to the room. My
vision returning from the cloud. I was still in the room, but I was the one
lying on the altar.
My clothing had been
ripped to shreds. My panties were shredded and on the floor in front of the
altar. God, my pussy felt raw and throbbed inside and out. I felt a wetness
between my legs and reached down to feel my thighs were wet. My fingers came
away from my crotch, red with blood. My blood. My head hurt so bad that
I wanted to close my eyes; it felt like a railroad spike was being driven into
my third eye. My body had been abused, sexually and physically. Hot tears
gathered at the outside corners of my eyes.
But the best—if I can
be permitted a bit of irony—was yet to come.
I managed to sit up,
cradling my poor womb as I dragged myself into a sitting position. Was I alone?
Depends on how you define the term. See, there were bodies everywhere. They’d
been ripped, beaten, stabbed. Every frat boy, every girlfriend and piece of
ass. Slung to the far corners of the room, hanging over pieces of furniture or
dotting the floor like so many meat throw rugs.
“My dear. I must
make sure never to make you angry.”
I looked around. “Where
are you?”
“Everywhere.
Nowhere. Within you. Without you. And you will now worship me. I own you.”
“No. No, you don’t.” I
surveyed the room again. “What happened? How did this happen? Who did this?”
“You did, my dear.
When they sacrificed your virginity—I should say, I was the one who took
it. And it was sweet. But you took it out on these little bastards. I accept
your gift, my love”
He was tall, with skin
like black leather. Cloven hooves. Bull like horns protruding from his head. It
looked like a sick Halloween costume. Until he got closer and I realized how
real it all was.
“Oh God,” I whispered.
I was hurting really bad. Mostly in spots, but all over, really.
“Mmm. Well, not
really. Not even remotely close. But, I have my purposes.”
“Where’s my friend?”
She was in the corner
wailing. As
painful as it was to get down off the altar, I managed to walk until I was next
to her. “Lainie!”
She was also covered in
blood, only her eyes somewhat pristine. And they were wide open in terror. She
screamed and cringed away from me.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s
over. There were drugs in that cocoa, honey. I’m me again. It’s okay.”
She let me hold her and
I helped us both stand. We made our way to the door, grabbing her purse and
keys off the floor. We made it back to her car and I drove us home to the dorm.
We got inside and scrubbed that damn blood off. And never spoke of it again.
I was in a lot of pain
for a week after. Took a lot of Aleve and Advil to dull it down, but never
knock it back. I took that week off from classes and decided it was time well
spent. I also got prescribed the morning after pill. I was not going to
have a baby by anyone.
The police were called
into the frat house the next morning. Yeah, sure, they investigated. But there
wasn’t anything in terms of evidence. No witnesses either. So, after a couple
of months, it was forgotten.
As for the…demon?
Devil? I never saw him again either. And I never want to. I’ve got enough shit
going on in my life.
Jesse V Coffey is the author of The Savior and An Opportunity for Resentment. She also writes as Jess Austen with the #RomanticThriller series, the Her Super Spy trilogy, and as Siobhan MacKenzie with #LGBTQ #EroticRomances, the His Man... series of novellas. All available for purchase through Amazon or free reading through Amazon's Kindle Unlimited.
Newlyweds Robert Farley and Mona Moon, Duke and Duchess of Brynelleth respectively, are finally on their honeymoon, stopping at Brynelleth before heading to their final destination. Robert surprises Mona with a summons from an old family friend, Lady Eustacia. She needs to discuss something with him. But no sooner do they arrive when the storm quite literally descends as the lady who summoned them disappears. And another dead body lands in the foyer. Clue meets Agatha Christie.
This is a wild ride indeed with an amazing pace. The characters are varied and filled with secrets and ulterior motives. Mona finds she has no end of suspects for the murder and disappearance of Lady Eustacia. The story continues the darker themes of the previous books, making them layered. Clue without the humor. Agatha Christie for those who like their cozies with a strong female lead that's ahead of her time. With a plot twist or two...or three that will keep you trying to figure it out until the last pages.
Carve out a few hours and have yourself a plate of biscuits and a pot of builders' tea to enjoy and savor this one. Because once you start, you won't want to put it down. Fortunately, an easy read that you can handle in an afternoon. And want more.
Five out of five stars for Murder Under a Cold Moon and kudos to Abigail Keam!!
Find your copy through all online booksellers, especially at
Amazon
Author Lucy Score's latest, The Body in the Backyard evokes images and plots of the old detective dramas of the forties and fifties, when Private Eyes ruled the screens and pages. And the likes of Humphry Bogart and Robert Mitchum were grizzled veterans when it came to film noir. If not for the modern setting and language, it would be very easy to see this in a noir setting.
Psychic Riley Thorn and her boyfriend, PI Nick Santiago have been "muscled" into taking a case for her diminutive ex-husband, Griffin Gentry, probably the most disliked man in town. Someone is trying to kill Griffin and "silent" (cough, cough) partner, Mrs. Penny, has roped them into taking the case. Nick is sure it's just Gentry trying to get attention from Riley...that is until a body in Gentry's backyard finally convinces him that maybe someone really is trying to kill the little fart.
The plot twists, the shenanigans, and the hilarious antics of the octogenarian roommates who've managed to take over Nick and Riley's new home kept this story buzzing along. The pacing was great, no moment wasted, no moment glossed over. I kept my nose buried in this book, laughing my ass off. We get to see both families--the Rileys and the Santiagos--and it's a wonder that the happy couple ever get a moment to themselves. But it's the kind of chaos that makes a novel a tight read and a brilliant plot.
I love the eccentricity of Score's characters, each one uniquely nuts and loveable. Well, maybe not Bella Goodshine or Griffin Gentry, but then, even they are richly drawn and real. The plot of this book was inspired by Dashiell Hammett's The Thin Man series of books and movies, and if you're remotely familiar with either, you'll know that for the compliment it was meant to be.
I'm very much hoping there will be more in this series, but we'll see if Ms. Score has more planned. In the meantime, she's got so many other series to read and enjoy. And I will be devouring them as well.
A five out of five star, great read by an amazing author.
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Then I found the Riley Thorn series and once again, Ms. Score has hooked me from the first word and taken me along for one hell of a ride. I have fallen in love with Riley and her boyfriend Nick Santiago, along with the octogenarians that she called roommates, the combined families and friends of theirs.
The Blast from the Past is chock full of great plotting, great writing, great characters, great pacing, and lots of little plot twists along the way. I read this in a single day, unable to put it down because I was compelled to know what happened next. The prose is like having your own storyteller sitting in your backyard, sitting around that campfire, and ready to tell you one hell of a yarn. Ms. Score's writing style is so conversational, and her characters are so real. It's just brilliance from an incredibly talented writer.
Five out of five stars, and another triumph from Lucy Score. Great job!
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Nothing like a good thriller to keep you hooked. And keep you guessing, right up until the last moment.
Jayden is man of mystery, with a mission and a job to do. And that job leads him to Patricia, a former one night stand who has her own mystery. A dark, deeply wounding past that has left her with soul wrenching scars. The moment these two get together, sparks fly and danger is not too far around the corner for one of them. And maybe both of them. It's up to Jayden to rescue Patricia and solve a complicated puzzle.
The story is a little slow to start, setting up the story usually is. But once the two come together, the story takes off at a gallop. And intermingled with the action is an exploration of who these people are and how they came to be. How they came to land in each other's orbit and the draw that keeps them there.
James Cutley's prose gets a little clunky in places, but the narrative is smooth and an easy read. His characters are multi-layered, living and breathing in the confines of the story. But always likeable, always deep. Cutley has formed a great thriller with a plausible plot that I could not put down. And that ending was satisfying in a way that I didn't see coming.
I give this book a 5 out of 5 stars for great read that didn't disappoint and lived up to my expectations.
This book is available from Amazon.
Welcome to the wonderful world -- and mildly demented mind -- of author Lucy Score. And trust me when I tell you that I say that "demented" part with a great deal of admiration and adoration. Because that woman is my new favorite Goddess of Literature.
Never in my life have I ever read a book of romantic suspense that made me laugh, cry, and be afraid all at the same time. And yet The Dead Guy Next Door did it to me. The first book in Riley Thorn series runs the gamut and does so with a cast of characters that are off the wall unique. Never once is anyone cliched or trope-ish. In fact, a psychic as the main character led me to believe it might get a little too woowoo for my tastes, but I'm happy to confess, it never did.
Plagued by visions and knowledge that she wishes she didn't have, Riley Thorn gets caught up in an investigation by ruggedly handsome PI, Nick Santiago. He of the sexy dimples in his cheeks. All she wants to be is normal, but with Nick, that ain't going to happen. Especially since she just got a vision of her creepy pervy neighbor across the hall getting shot twice and murdered. No way to get out of this, she embraces her new "normal" and prays that she's going to get out of this alive and with some great sex.
This book starts off in the middle of the action and takes off at a heart racing gallop. There is never a moment wasted. The characters develop into living, breathing people with all the ups and downs a persona can have. Memorable, unique, quirky, and just flat out fun. Even their foibles are defining and endearing. And the ending is satisfying and perfect. Leading to the next book in the series. And trust me, I will be reading. I can't wait.
I give The Dead Guy Next Door a five out of five-star rating and Lucy Score is a definite must-read author. This series is so worth it.
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