The Reaper Follows by Heather Graham – a Review

The Reaper Follows by Heather Graham – a Review

 

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Description:
Death comes for everyone.

Deep in the Florida Everglades, the body of a woman is discovered in pieces, presumably ravaged by an alligator. Upon closer inspection, it’s determined no animal could make such perfectly precise cuts. Only a blade could do that. Wielded by a human. Soon, dozens of oil drums emerge amid the river of grass. Each one packed to the brim with body parts.

FDLE special agent Amy Larson and her partner, FBI special agent Hunter Forrest, share a bad feeling that extends beyond the horrifying nature of the grim discovery. They’ve seen this kind of sadistic killing before, and when a small beige horse is discovered at the bottom of one of the barrels, they know exactly what it means. The fourth horseman of the apocalypse rides a pale horse—and his name is Death.

With so many bodies to identify, connecting one victim to the next is easier said than done. But finding a pattern in the chaos might be the only way Amy and Hunter can zero in on the killer, testing their skills as agents—and their relationship—like never before. And when the disturbing trail of clues signals these slayings are just the beginning, the agents will have to return to where it all started before it’s too late. The apocalypse is coming, and Hunter and Amy have only one chance to stop it, even if it means sacrificing each other.

 

 

Review:

The Reaper Follows by Heather Graham is the 4th book in her Amy Larson & Hunter Forest FBI series. When bodies start turning up in the Florida Everglades, dozens of oil drums emerge filled with body parts.  They have seen this kind of killing before, and when a small beige horse is found in one of the barrels: they know what it means. Both continue their investigation into a series of crimes linked to the four horsemen in the Book of Revelations; the 4th one meaning death. FDLE special agent Amy Larson and her partner, FBI special agent Hunter Forrest, with both of them on this case since the beginning. This final book brings us to the final horseman and mastermind; who rides a pale horse. Amy and Hunter know they are close to finding the mastermind, who is killing so many people, especially in the Everglades.

Though we do not know who is the killer until near the end, we know he considers himself the archangel, and brainwashes his followers; then when they are no longer needed, he kills them.  The mastermind (archangel) is a manipulator who manages to sway people to his cause. Sadly, many of these deluded cult followers take their own lives.  I will say that half way through the I did suspect who the killer was.

I really liked the duo of Amy and Hunter, as in this 4th book, they are both planning to marry, once this case is solved.   Amy is an amazing tough and fearless detective, who pushes herself to exhaustion, even when her superiors force her to get sleep and rest.  Hunter being FBI, and closely working with all the agents that have gathered where the bodies have been found; he is also determined to protect Amy at any cost.  As noted previously, they both made a great team.  The romance between Amy and Hunter was sweet, as it was spread throughout the book. I really liked so many of the agents and secondary characters, who all played major parts in this conclusion; Aiden, Sabrina, Mickey, Jimmy, and so many wonderful team members. They all made a great team, working hard together to solve the case.  

The Reaper Follows was an intense, suspenseful, haunting, dangerous story that kept us unable to put the book down; especially in the last quarter of the book when Amy’s life was in danger and she knew who the killer was.  The story was a great plot, fantastic characters, and the murders were gruesome.  The Reaper Follows was so very well written by Heather Graham, who once again gives us a fabulous murder mystery.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

 

 

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The Last Close Call by Laura Griffin – Review and Excerpt

The Last Close Call by Laura Griffin – Review and Excerpt

 

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Description:
A talented genetic analyst and a detective who’s haunted by an elusive cold case team up in the new standalone romantic suspense from New York Times bestselling author Laura Griffin.

Forensic genealogist Rowan Healy has made a name for herself by helping investigators trace the family trees of violent criminals who have eluded justice for years. But the pressure of police cases left her burned out, and she’s shifted her focus to helping adoptees find their biological parents.

Austin detective Jack Bruner has spent his career successfully tracking down vicious criminals–with the notable exception of the West Campus Rapist, a meticulous offender in Texas who has never been identified. When the latest two victims come to light, Jack sees his target is escalating his violent behavior–and only with Rowan’s help does he stand a chance of cracking this case.

Moved by Jack’s dedication and the brutal details of the attacks he lays out, Rowan agrees to help. When her ground-breaking DNA research sheds new light on the criminal’s background and helps them zero in on a search radius, Rowan and Jack must race against the clock to find a ruthless killer who’s growing bolder the longer he evades the law.

 

 

Review:

The Last Close Call by Laura Griffin is a standalone mystery thriller. I am a huge fan of Laura Griffin, as she is one of the best at murder suspenseful mysteries, police procedurals and a bit of romance. 

Detective Jack Bruner is a dedicated cop who continues to be consumed for many years by a serial predator called the West Campus Rapist, who was never found, as he disappeared. 5 Years later, Jack is concerned that the rapist is back, with a similar attack, as well as a murder. Stumped, as he is at a dead end, unable to find any DNA or evidence; he learns about a former police genetic genealogist, who walked away from the job.

Rowan Healy is considered the best in helping investigators trace violent criminals who have eluded justice, which put too much pressure on her, being burned out; and leaving the police force.   She now focuses her ability to help adoptees find their biological parents.  Rowan meets Jack Bruner, who asks her if she would help him track down the rapist. At first, Rowan turns him down, saying she can’t go back; but a few days later, she learns the case Jack is working on, is something she cannot turn down (she had a friend who was attacked by the rapist years ago). Rowan uses her forensic genealogist skills to investigate the case, going back in time to find a possible suspect, who was given up for adoption by a 16-year-old woman.

They both work closely together, even if Jack wasn’t sure that Rowan would be able to help. In a short time, both begin to struggle to fight the attraction they have for each other.  I really liked Rowan and Jack together; they were very likable characters, dedicated to their job, and you can’t help root for them to find the villain, as well as find a way to be together. Though each had different aspects of their work methods, they were both driven to find the villain.

What follows is an exciting, fantastic mystery suspense that keeps our attention from start to finish, with a bit of romance. The Last Close Call was a gripping and chilling thriller, with many twists along the way. Laura Griffin once again gives us a wonderful thriller, with a great romantic couple and wonderful secondary characters. If you enjoy murder mysteries, police procedurals, lots of intense action, suspense, with a touch of romance, you should read this book.  If you have never read Laura Griffin, it’s time to start now, as she is an amazing writer for romance suspense.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

                               Excerpt

A chime emanated from Rowan’s purse. She pulled out her phone and read a text from the Austin lawyer whose client Rowan had been working for all week.

Got your email. Omg TY!!

The words were followed by three halo emojis, and Rowan felt a swell of pride.

Anytime, she texted back. So glad I could help.

This attorney had sent her three referrals over the past six months, and now there would likely be more on the way. Rowan’s anemic bank account was finally getting a boost. It couldn’t come soon enough. Her December credit card bill had just come in, and she hadn’t even wanted to look at it.

“Rowan Healy?”

She jerked her head up as a man stepped over. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair. He wore a black leather jacket with droplets of rain clinging to it. Rowan darted a glance at Lila. Her friend didn’t look up, but she lifted an eyebrow in a way that told Rowan she’d sent this guy over here.

“Who’s asking?” Rowan responded, even though she had a sneaking suspicion she knew, based on his deep voice. Not to mention the super-direct look in his brown eyes.

“Jack Bruner, Austin PD.” He smiled slightly. “Mind if I sit?”

She sighed and nodded at the empty seat across from her.

He slid into the booth and rested his elbows on the table. He looked her over, and she managed not to squirm.

“You’re a hard woman to reach.”

Ha. He had no idea how true that was.

“How’d you know to find me here?” she asked.

“Ric Santos told me you hang out here.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise at the mention of Ric. She hadn’t known they were friends. But she probably should have guessed. Law enforcement was a tight-knit group.

She gave him what she hoped was a confident smile. “Look, Detective, I appreciate you coming all the way out here, but I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time.”

“Just listen.”

Two words.

A command, but not. When combined with that slight smile, it was more like a statement. Something she was going to do, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

Rowan felt a surge of annoyance. But again, she gave him a nod.

Sasha appeared at the table and rested her cocktail tray on her hip. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked the detective.

“A Coke, please.”

She nodded. “Rowan?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

She walked off, her cascade of blond hair swinging behind her.

Rowan settled her attention on the detective.

“I’m with APD’s violent crimes unit, as I mentioned on the phone,” he said.

With every call, he’d politely identified himself and given a callback number. Rowan had called the number once and-equally politely-left a message with her response. But he’d stubbornly ignored it.

“I’m working on a case,” he said, “and I could use your help.”

Rowan nodded. “Like I told you before-“

He held up his hand and gave her a sharp look. Listen.

“It’s a serial offender,” he continued. “Eight sexual assaults.” His dark brows furrowed. “This guy’s careful. We’ve only recovered one DNA profile, the second attack in the series.”

“If you’ve only got one profile, how do you know it’s the same guy?”

“Because-“

Sasha was back already with a flirty smile. She placed the detective’s soft drink in front of him, and he nodded his thanks.

“Because we know,” he said after she left.

Rowan looked the man over. He had an athletic build, but not the steroid-infused look she was used to seeing with young cops. Then again, he wasn’t that young. The touch of gray at his temples told her he was maybe ten years older than she was, probably late thirties. Or maybe it was the wise look in his eyes that told her that.

She sipped her drink and waited for more.

“A while ago we had the sample analyzed by a genetic genealogist,” he said. “Spent a lot of money and time on that. They ran into some kind of wall, and the results were inconclusive, they said.”

“What’s ‘a while’?”

“Come again?”

“How long ago did you have it analyzed?”

He hesitated a beat.

“Four years.”

Rowan’s breath caught. In terms of DNA technology, four years was like four decades. A lot had changed in that time-new techniques, new tools, new profiles in the databases.

But she tried to keep her face impassive as she folded her hands in front of her.

“I appreciate your effort to track me down,” she said. It told her a lot about what kind of detective he was-precisely the kind that had prompted her to shift careers. “But unfortunately, I don’t do police work anymore. You could say I’m retired.”

“That’s not what Ric told me.”

She gritted her teeth. Damn it, she’d known doing him a favor would come back to bite her.

“Ric said you’re selective, not retired.” He paused, watching her. “He told me you gave him an assist recently and that your help was invaluable.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Rowan said. She was immune to flattery, even from smooth-talking detectives who liked to play head games. “And I can appreciate the pressure you guys must be under with a serial case. But I’m not in that line of work anymore.”

He leaned forward, and she eased back slightly.

“Let me be straight, Rowan.” His eyes bored into hers. “I need your help right now. Not next month or next year. Not whenever you get bored with what you’re doing and decide to come out of retirement. I don’t care if I sound desperate. I’m on a ticking clock here.”

Her stomach tightened at his words. And his prediction that she would backtrack on her career change irked her.

But he held her gaze across the table, and she felt that inexorable pull that had turned her life upside down too many times to count.

Excerpted from The Last Close Call by Laura Griffin Copyright © 2023 by Laura Griffin. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved.

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

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Payback In Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Payback In Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

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Description:
Lt. Eve Dallas is just home from a long overdue vacation when she responds to a call of an unattended death. The victim is Martin Greenleaf, retired Internal Affairs Captain. At first glance, the scene appears to be suicide, but the closer Eve examines the body, the more suspicious she becomes.

An unlocked open window, a loving wife and family, a too-perfect suicide note—Eve’s gut says it’s a homicide. After all, Greenleaf put a lot of dirty cops away during his forty-seven years in Internal Affairs. It could very well be payback—and she will not rest until the case is closed.

 

 

Review:

Payback in Death by J.D. Robb is the 57th book in her fantastic In Death/Eve Dallas series. As I have noted previous times, I am a huge fan of this wonderful series, having read every book and novellas. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Payback in Death was a fantastic addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 57 books later.

Eve and Roarke completed their vacation in Greece, which extended to a week-long stopover in Ireland, visiting Roarke’s family. It was nice to see the family again, as Eve was very comfortable around them; she also surprised Roarke with an anniversary painting of all the family. They arrived back home in New York, with plans to enjoy their last evening, before going back to work. Eve suddenly gets phone call from a friend, Webster, requesting her to take the lead, with retired Internal Affairs Captain Martin Greenleaf dead.  Eve and Roarke go to the scene, where they meet Webster, and he explains there was a suicide note, which he feels is not real. After examining the note and layout, Eve immediately recognizes that this was a staged attempt to look like suicide.  

As Eve takes control of the case, she and Peabody begin their investigation to find the real killer. The victim was responsible for putting many dirty cops away during his lengthy career; leaving many suspects who could have wanted payback.  I have to say I love Eve and Peabody together, and it was nice to see her team working all together; I also love when Roarke goes with her on some interviews. I always enjoy spending time with the many recurring characters, such as Peabody, Nadine, McNab, Mira, Mavis, Feeney, Reo, Summerset, Galahad, and Eve’s entire police team.

The tension escalates with so many possible suspects, and especially after the son is also attacked within the family home.  Eve, early on suspected some neighbors, from the beginning, but until closer to the end, she finally found the evidence that she needed to set the trap.  I absolutely love how Eve, and at times Peabody interrogate the murderer and get them to reveal themselves.  Amazing.

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find out who the real killer was; with edge of your seat suspense. J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Payback in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

                        Chapter One
Someone had either kidnapped the sun or decided screw the ransom and killed it dead.
For two glorious weeks, before its abduction or demise, it had blasted heat and light so
the sea below the villa in Greece sparkled, diamonds on sapphire. It had baked every ounce of
stress away and left generous room for sleep, sex, wine, basking, and more sex.
No better way, to her mind, to spend a slice of summer in 2061.
Lieutenant Eve Dallas, murder cop, hadn’t thought about murder and mayhem for days.
That alone equaled vacation. Add a villa of sunbaked gold stone, views of sea and hill, of olive
groves and vineyards out every window, top it all off with lazy, private time with the man she
loved, and you had it all.
It was a hell of a perfect way to celebrate their third anniversary.
Sometimes it still amazed her. How the cop and the criminal (former), two lost souls
who’d pushed, punched, and kicked their way out of misery, somehow found each other. How
they’d managed to build a good, strong life together.
Whatever changed, shifted, evolved, that remained constant.
They built together.
Now, after two weeks of ridiculous indulgence—not that Roarke would think it at all
ridiculous—they’d arrived in Ireland under a sky of stacked clouds and dripping rain.
Maybe the Irish were sun killers.
And yet, the green shined so vivid here as the fields spread, the hills rose, the stone
walls glistened in the wet. The skinny road they traveled snaked, and hedgerows dripping with
bloodred fuchsia closed in like living walls.
She checked herself. Maybe a touch of stress but only because the Irish, in addition to
being suspected sun killers, opted to drive on the wrong side of snaking, skinny roads, and
Roarke drove as if he powered down a straightaway.
He was so damn happy, and his happiness rolled right through her. She didn’t consider it
a Marriage Rule to share such a cheerful mood, but it did stand as an advantage.
She studied him awhile—a more pleasant view than the breaks in the hedgerows that
displayed sheep, cows, occasionally horses, and various other four-legged animals.
He had that face. Those wild Irish blue eyes, that perfectly sculpted mouth, and all that
black silk hair to frame it.
Those lips curved, those eyes smiled—just for her—when he glanced at her.
“Not much farther.”
“I remember.”
The last time they’d visited his family’s farm in Clare—a family he hadn’t known existed
during his nightmare childhood, or his very successful career as a thief, a smuggler, a (fairly)
legitimate businessman who’d built an empire—they’d pursued a contract killer.
Lorcan Cobbe, the vicious boy from Roarke’s childhood, became a vicious man, and one
who’d wanted Roarke dead.
Tables turned, she thought. And now Cobbe sat in an off-planet concrete cage, and
would for the rest of his vicious life.
“There’s a break in the clouds ahead.”
She peered at the leaden sky. Maybe, if she squinted, there was a slightly less gray
patch.
“You call that a break?”
“I do, yes.” Ireland, like the green, wove through his voice as he reached over to lay a
hand on hers. “It means much to them for us to come like this, spend time with the family. It
means everything to me that you’re willing to.”
“I’m happy to go. I like them, the whole insane mob of them. And it’s nice to spend
some time here when we’re not with a bunch of cops.”
“It is. And yet, that was a satisfying visit after all.”
“Because I stood back and let you kick Cobbe’s ass.”
He smiled again at the “let you.” “My cop understands me, and loves me anyway. And
there now, see, there’s a bright spot.”
She couldn’t deny what he’d called a break now showed hints of blue.
“Bright’s a strong word.”
He turned, turned again, and there she saw the field where she’d once landed in a jetcopter—with the damn cows—because he’d needed her. Where she’d first met Sinead Brody
Lannigan, Roarke’s mother’s twin.
The stone-gray house, the barns and outbuildings, the thriving gardens.
Even as Roarke turned into the drive, the front door burst open. Sean, Sinead’s frecklefaced grandson, ran out.
“You’re here at last! We’ve been waiting forever, haven’t we? And Nan and Ma made a
welcome feast. I’m fair to starving, as they won’t let me have so much as a nibble.”
He stood, fair-haired and bright-eyed, in the dripping rain.
“I’ll help with the bags.”
“There’s a good lad. And how’s it all going, Sean?”
“Fine and well. Are you wearing your weapon then?” he asked Eve. “Can I see it?”
“No and no.”
“Ah well.” He shouldered a bag Roarke handed him. “Maybe later then. We’ve had no
trouble, not even a bit, since last you came. But maybe now we’ll have some.”
“Bring that bag in,” Sinead, honey-blond hair in a sleek tail, hands on narrow hips, called
from the doorway. “And stop badgering your cousins. Welcome, welcome to you both. We’ve
missed your faces. No, no, don’t bother with the bags.”
She embraced Roarke, held a moment, then turned to Eve to do the same. “We’ve
enough able men to bring them in and up to your room.”
Inside, all color and movement, voices raised in greeting, more hugs. Eve figured she
hugged more in five minutes at the Brody farm than she did in a couple of years—or more—
otherwise.
Someone handed her a glass of wine.
Food covered the counters in the farmhouse kitchen that smelled of fresh-baked bread
and roasted chicken.
The chicken might’ve been clucking out in the coop that morning, but Eve wasn’t going
to think about it.
Someone handed her a plate piled with enough food for three starving people. A pair of
dogs raced by, then a couple of kids.
Sinead drew her aside.
“I’ve the gift you had sent ahead tucked away. You’ll just let me know when you want
it.”
“I guess after all this.”
“We’ll take it up to your room then?”
“Oh. No. He should have it here. Everyone’s here. At least I think they are.”
“Every mother’s son and daughter. I didn’t know if you’d want a private moment for it.”
“No, it’s . . . family. It’s a family thing.”
Green eyes soft, Sinead kissed her cheek. “I’m grateful for you, Eve. If I haven’t said so,
know I’m grateful for you. Now, let’s get you a seat so you can eat. Make room there, Liam, our
Eve has legs longer than yours.”
So she sat, the long-legged cop with her choppy brown hair and whiskey-colored eyes,
in the middle of noise and confusion that could rival a New York traffic jam.
She hadn’t known family, only abuse and violence, and had forged a career founded on
standing for the dead. She had family now—the family she’d made, often despite herself, in
New York.
And family here, in an Irish farmhouse.
She caught Roarke’s eye in the melee. When he raised his glass to her in a quick toast,
she did the same.”
***
She hadn’t planned just how to give him his anniversary gift, hadn’t been entirely sure she
could pull it off since she’d come up with the idea.
But when she’d considered giving it to him in Greece, alone, it hadn’t seemed the right
way.
After the feast, with the family sprawled in the living room, dining room, and kitchen,
with a dog snoring and a baby nursing, with Roarke’s great-grandmother knitting something or
other, seemed like the right way.
“Are you sure now?” Sinead asked when they went into a parlor, into a cupboard. “I
haven’t seen it or—at great cost, I’ll add—given into the temptation to take a peek, but I know
the idea of it, and there’ll be tears. Some will be my own, I expect.”
“I think it’ll mean more to him this way.”
She hoped so.
She carried the brown-wrapped gift to where Roarke and his uncle held a conversation
having to do with sheep.
“A few days late—in case you thought I forgot.”
She knew she’d surprised him—a rare thing—when she handed him the long, wide
package.
“Tear it open, would you?” Sean demanded. “Nan wouldn’t so much as give us a hint
what it was.”
“Then we’d best find out.”
More family crowded in as Roarke removed the paper, the stabilizers.
And inside, found family.
The painting held the farmhouse, the hills, the fields in the background. And everyone
stood together—the whole insane mob of them, young, old, babes in arms, Eve and Roarke
centered.
Sinead stood behind Roarke’s right shoulder. Roarke’s mother, lost so long before, at his
left.
“It’s the lot of us. Is that my aunt Siobhan, Nan?”
“It is, aye. Aye, that’s our Siobhan. Ah, it’s beautiful. It’s brilliant.” Turning, she pressed
her face to her husband’s shoulder. “And here I go, Robbie.”
“This is . . . Eve.” Roarke looked up at her, his heart in those wild blue eyes. “I have no
words.” He reached for her hand. “You’ve put Summerset in it.”
“Well.” She shrugged at that. “Yancy painted it.”
“I see the signature. It couldn’t be more precious to me. How did you manage this?”
“Sinead sent photos, and Yancy figured it out.”
“Hand it over, lad.” Robbie took it from him. “And stand up and kiss your wife.”
“That I will. I love you, beyond reason.”
When he kissed her, the family cheered. Then crowded around to get closer looks at the
gift.”
***
Young and old, the Irish partied well into the night. Music—which meant singing, dancing—
plenty of beer, wine, whiskey, and yet more food. Since the patch of blue had spread its way
over the sky, the revelers spilled outside to keep right at it under moon and starlight.
When Eve found a moment to sit—hopefully far away enough so no one would pull her
into another dance—Sean settled beside her with a plate of the cookies they called biscuits.
“I liked the case about the girls taken, then locked into that terrible school place. Well
now, I didn’t like how they were shut up in there,” he qualified, “but how you got them out
again.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Oh, from the Internet,” he said easily, and bit into a cookie. “And there was talk of it all
even in Tulla. I heard my own father saying how proud he was our own Eve freed those poor
girls from a terrible fate, and saw those who harmed them got their comeuppance right
enough.”
“I had some help with that.”
“Well now, of course. You’re the boss of the police, and wasn’t it fine meeting them
when you came last? So, when you found the bad ones, did you stun any of them?”
What the hell, she thought, and took a cookie from the plate. “As a matter of fact.”
“Brilliant, as they deserved it and more. And did you have a chance to—” He punched a
fist in the air. “And get in a good one.”
“Yeah, I got in some good ones.”
“As did Roarke, I’m sure, as they all say he fights like a demon.”
“He holds his own.”
“The one who came here in the spring meant to hurt my nan, and any of us he could.”
Those bright eyes darkened with a hard fury she not only understood but respected. “He came
to hurt Nan, as it would hurt Roarke.”
“He’ll never touch your nan, or any of you.”
“And that’s the truth of it because you locked him up. I think I’ll not be a farmer, even as
I love the farm. When I think on it, I think I’ll lock people up—the bad ones, of course.”
“There’s more to it than that, kid.”
“Oh sure and there’s more. You have to train so you know how to protect people, and
take an oath. It’s why I like reading about your cases. And I watched the vid about you and
Roarke and the clones.”
He looked around at his family with those green Brody eyes.
“Tulla’s a quiet place, but still people need protection, don’t they then? I saw the dead
girl last year, and she didn’t get protection in time. Things can happen here as well. So I think I’ll
be a cop who loves to farm.”
“A good way to have it all.”
He gave her a quick nod as if that settled it. “That’s my thinking on it.”
When she mulled it over, she’d been his age, even younger, when she’d decided to be a
cop. Different reasons, and thank Christ for that, but the same goal.
“Maybe when you come to New York for Thanksgiving, you can come into Central.”
His face didn’t light up. His whole being illuminated. “Do you mean it?”
“It’ll depend on if I have an active case, and—”
“I won’t be any trouble at all. I talked to the Captain Feeney when he was here, and
maybe I can see the EDD as well? It all seemed so grand in the vid.”
Too much wine, too much relaxation, she thought, and she’d backed herself right into a
corner. “We’ll try to work it out.”
“I have to tell Da!”
When he barreled off, Roarke took his place.
“And what was all that? It looked like you brought his Christmas early.”
“I somehow sort of offered to bring him into Central when they come for Thanksgiving.”
When Roarke laughed, kissed her cheek, she shook her head.
“He’s slippery. They’re all slippery when you come down to it.” She picked up her wine,
again thought what the hell, and took another sip. “He reminded me of me—without the
baggage. Anyway.” This time she shrugged. “He’s following my cases on the Internet.”
“Ah, well of course. You’re a hero to him.”
“If he wants to be a cop, he’ll have to learn the difference between a cop and a hero.”
“From where I sit, they’re one and the same.” He took her hand. “The painting, Eve.”
She smiled, smugly. “Nailed that one.”
“You undid me. How did you think of such a thing?”
“You have to ask yourself what do you get for the man who if he doesn’t have it already,
it’s because it hasn’t been invented. Then he’ll figure out how to invent it and have it anyway.
Has to be personal. So, chronologically, Summerset found you, we found each other, you found
all of them.”
She tipped her head to his shoulder. “When you gave me my gift back at Central, magic
vests for my bullpen? You undid me. We get each other. We get what’s important to each
other.”
“You’ve time for mooning over each other later.” Robbie strode up to pluck Eve off the
wall. “I’m for another dance with my niece.”
For a third time, Eve thought what the hell, and danced.
* * *
She woke alone, and in a stream of pearly sunlight. A memo cube sat on the stand by the bed.
Once activated, Roarke’s voice streamed out.
It seems I’m off to the fields. There’ll be coffee and breakfast down in the kitchen
whenever you’re up and ready.
If coffee was involved, she could be up, and she could get ready.
The shower didn’t come close to the multi-jets and steam at home, or the luxury of the
villa in Greece, but it did the job.
She dragged on pants, a shirt, and, with her mind still blurry, automatically reached for
her weapon harness. It took her a second to remember she’d locked it away in her bag.
She walked out in the quiet—unless you counted the occasional mooing cow or baaing
sheep (which she did, absolutely).
Down the creaky stairs and toward the kitchen. Already the air smelled like glory—with
coffee a happy top note.
“Good morning to you, Eve. I heard you stirring, so there’s coffee fresh and ready for
you.”
“Thanks.” Eve grabbed a mug while Sinead, an apron over her own shirt and pants, her
red-gold hair bundled up, heated a skillet on the stove.
“Roarke’s own blend it is, so not to worry. He told me coffee was his first gift to you.”
“Yeah. A sneaky way to get past my defenses.”
“A cagey man is Roarke. And now, can you handle a full Irish for breakfast?”
“After last night I figured I was good for a week. But maybe.”
“Danced it all off, as did I. Why don’t you start with a bit of the soda bread—it’s full of
currants and baked just this morning.”
“That’s what I smelled. I remember it from when we were here last year.”
Now the smell of frying meat joined the chorus.
Eve sat at the kitchen table. It seemed odd to just sit there while somebody cooked. No
AutoChef for Sinead. But it seemed the right thing.
“Roarke’s in the field?”
“Aye, didn’t they drag him off—and his own fault for being an early riser. A Brody trait.”
“Is it? He’s up before dawn pretty much every day. ’Link meetings, holo-meetings with
somebody on the other side of the world.”
“It is, yes. The farmer in us, I suppose.”
“It’s hard to see farmer in Roarke.”
Sinead sent a smile over her shoulder. “But he plows and plants and tends and harvests
right enough.”
“You could say that.” Eve drank more coffee. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“And you, you guard the fields and those who work them, and keep the predators at
bay. It’s a fine match you’ve made.”
In short order, she put a plate in front of Eve.
“I see his face still, the first time he knocked on my door. The grief in his eyes—my
sister’s eyes. Sure Siobhan’s were as green as mine, but the look in them, the shape of them.
My sister’s child. And I see his face as so much lifted from him when he saw you land in the
near field. And I knew, as he looked at you, he’d found the love she never did.”
She set aside a dish towel. “I wonder if I could speak to you about things on my mind.”
“Sure. Is there a problem?”
“It’s not the now, but the before. I’ll have some tea and sit while you eat.”
Sinead took her time about it, and Eve realized she sensed nerves.
“Sure I thought this a good time, with just the two of us, to say what so troubles me.”
She sat, sighed. “We didn’t fight for him, you see, for our Roarke. Just a babe, and with that
bastard Patrick Roarke. My sister’s child, and we didn’t fight for him.”
Because she thought it helped those nerves, Eve ate. “That’s not what I heard. Patrick
Roarke nearly killed your brother when he went to Dublin to try to find out what happened to
your sister.”
“He did, oh sweet Jesus, he did, and would see us all in the ground, he warned, if any of
us came back. In those times, those hard times, Patrick Roarke had cops and more in both his
hands and his back pocket. Still, we knew of the baby and let him go. We let Siobhan’s son go.
And as time went on, we thought—on my life, we believed—Roarke himself knew of us, of his
mother. And more time went on, and we heard—some time after it happened—that Patrick
Roarke was dead. I thought of my children, not much younger than my sister’s child.”
“You thought he knew,” Eve said as Sinead stared into her tea. “And if he’d wanted
contact, he’d reach out to his mother’s family, since Patrick Roarke couldn’t stop him. You
thought—why wouldn’t you?—Maybe he’s his father’s child, and I have my own to protect.”
Tears swirled, but Sinead didn’t shed them when she nodded. She sipped some tea as
she gathered herself to say more.
“And that became a kind of comfort as more time passed. You’d hear of Roarke—the
young man who made fortunes—you’d hear of deeds done in shadows—rumors of them. His
life in New York City. A kind of empire, isn’t it?”
“And not really ‘kind of.’”
“I’d wonder, when I let myself wonder, what kind of man he was. Like his father?
Ruthless, murderous, heartless? I might see a picture of him at some fancy place with some
beautiful woman on his arm. I’d think: Where is Siobhan, where is my sister in this man? I
couldn’t find her in him, you see. I couldn’t see her in him a’tall, so easier still to turn away, to
let go.”
She sighed again. “Then I saw a picture of him with you, this policewoman with serious
eyes. Not so glamorous as others, but more memorable to my thinking. And when I looked at
him standing with you, I thought: Ah, well now, oh aye, there she is, there’s a bit of my sister
after all. Who is this woman who brought Siobhan out in him?”
“She was always there, Sinead.”
Those tears shimmered over the Brody green. “I know that now. I think I knew that the
moment I opened the door to him. But—”
“You opened the door to him,” Eve interrupted. “You let him in. You gave him family.
Regrets aren’t just useless in this case, they’re just wrong.”
“We let him go.”
“You took him in,” Eve corrected, “when he needed you, and opened a door he hadn’t
known existed. One he thought you’d shut in his face. His years in Dublin, with that fucker
Patrick Roarke, and beyond that made him what he is. Who he is. Regret what you did or
didn’t? You regret who he made himself.”
Blinking at the tears, Sinead sat back. “That’s very Irish of you.”
“Is it?” With a shrug, Eve polished off her breakfast. “Just strikes me as logic.”
“You love him, very much.”
“He’s a complicated, irritating, arrogant, fascinating, generous man. I love him, very
much, even when he pisses me off. Which is fairly regularly. And yet. Do you know what he
gave me for our anniversary?”
Now Sinead smiled, dashed away a tear that got through. “I was hoping you’d tell me, or
show me. I imagine it’s blindingly gorgeous.”
“To me it is. He researched, developed, and is manufacturing what’s called Thin Shield.
It’s a lightweight, flexible body armor that can be worn as a lining in a coat, jacket, vest,
uniform. He gave them to my entire bullpen. He’s giving the next round of them to the NYPSD.”
For a moment, Sinead said nothing. “He loves you, very much.”
“Yeah, how about that? I’ll never figure out why, so I’ve learned to take it. You’ll never
figure out the what-ifs, the if-only, Sinead, so regrets are useless. And they disrespect the man
he is. That’s Siobhan’s son.”
“You’ve lifted a weight off my heart. That’s pure truth.”
“Good, because it didn’t belong there.”
“Hearing you say so makes a difference. You trusted us with him.”
After a beat, Sinead’s eyes widened. She grinned as she ticked a finger in the air. “Ah. I
see. You looked into us.”
“I’m a cop,” Eve said simply. “And watch out, because Sean’s heading in that direction.”
“So it seems. You . . . investigated us?”
“You better believe I checked you out. Every one of you. And there are a hell of a lot of
you.” Eve nudged her plate aside. “You’re an exceptional family.”
“More exceptional now. I’ll say again.” Reaching out, she gripped one of Eve’s hands.
“I’m grateful to you, and for you, Eve.”
“Roarke’s out in some field, probably stepping in cow shit in his five-thousand-dollar
boots.”
“Oh Jaysus, not so dear as all that, surely.”
“Conservative estimate.” Rising, she helped herself to another mug of coffee. “And the
idea of it really brightens up my day. So gratitude right back.”
“I’ve a mind to go out, cut some flowers. I feel light and happy thanks to our talk here.
Will you walk with me?”
“Are you going near any cows?”
“Ah, we’ll keep a good distance there.”
“Then I’m game.”
* * *
Maybe it surprised her how much she enjoyed several days on a farm in the Irish countryside,
not far from the wild Irish coast. But the people brought the pleasure. She considered the many
dogs and cats normal, even acceptable.
Cows and sheep within a stone’s throw of the house? Not so much. But she learned to
sleep through the insistent call of the rooster, and kept her distance from the rest of the stock.
On the other hand, Roarke dived right in, tromping through fields in those fivethousand-dollar boots—they’d never be the same—riding on weird-looking machines.
She wondered, seriously, if he’d gone over the top when he milked a cow.
Machines did the real work, but you still had to get up close and personal. And because
he wanted to see how it was done the old-fashioned way, his uncle obliged him.
So she stood, well back, in the doorway of the milking parlor, watching possibly the
richest man in the known universe sit on a three-legged stool at the enormous back end of a
cow who munched on a bunch of hay.
With his hair tied back in work mode, he used those clever and elegant hands to yank on
a cow tit. A huge cow tit, the sort of tit she firmly believed had no place in a civilized world.
When milk squirted out of it and into a pail, she had to hold back a shudder. In contrast,
Roarke grinned and kept on going.
“Will you have a go at it then, Eve? Our Gertie here’s gentle as a lamb.”
“Absolutely not. No. Never.” Plus, she’d heard the sounds lambs could make, and didn’t
consider them gentle.
“It’s satisfying,” Roarke told her.
“Yeah, I bet. What man wouldn’t want to get his hands on a tit that big?”
When Robbie roared with laughter, she stepped back. “I’ll just leave the two of you to
it.”
And when the three weeks away ended, she figured they’d done it all—and more. From
the quiet of sun-soaked Greece to the quiet of green-soaked Ireland.
And cows aside, she’d enjoyed every second of it

 

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Encore in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Encore in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

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Description:
Eve Dallas is investigating the murder of a much-loved actor at a glittering party. The spotlight has never been brighter. Or deadlier…

It was a glittering event full of A-listers, hosted by Eliza Lane and Brant Fitzhugh, the most glittering of all celebrity couples. Everyone had expected the party to be in the newspapers the next day but not because one of the hosts was murdered! As the crowd had gathered to watch Eliza sing, Fitzhugh had raised a final toast to his glamorous wife and fallen to the floor. Death by cyanide poisoning. It’s time for Lt. Eve Dallas to make her entrance.

From all accounts, Fitzhugh wasn’t the kind of star who made enemies. Eliza, on the other hand, had many rivals, and a few of them could class as enemies. Since the champagne cocktail that killed Brant was originally intended for Eliza, could it be that she was the real target?

With so many people at the party, Eve has her work cut out determining who could commit murder in the middle of a crowd. As one who’s not fond of the spotlight, she dreads the media circus surrounding a case like this. All she wants is to figure out who’s truly innocent, and who’s only acting that way…

 

 

Review:

Encore in Death by J.D. Robb is the 56th book in her fantastic Eve Dallas/In Death series. I have said this many times that I loved this series, as I have read every single book, as well as all the novellas of this series. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Encore in Death was a wonderful addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 56 books later;

Encore in Death starts off with a celebrity gala hosted by Eliza Lane and Brant Fitzhugh, two of the most famous celebrities, as well as a married couple.  The crowd gathered to watch Eliza and young co-star sing, and when she was done, her husband raised his glass to toast his wife; immediately falling down dead. The death diagnosed as cyanide poisoning, brings Lt. Eve Dallas to the scene, with her wonderful team, including Peabody and McNab; with the media in a frenzy over the poisoning of a famous loved actor. 

Eve begins a merry chase to discover who is the murderer, with so many suspects.  This is a perfect whodunit, especially being led to believe the original target was Eliza, not Brant.  Both Eve and Peabody investigate those who had grudges against Eliza, including someone from the past.  To say too much more would be spoilers, and this is too great of a story to ruin it for you.  There are a number of surprises and twists, which totally throws us for a loop. 

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find out who the real killer was; with edge of your seat suspense. I love spending time with Eve, Peabody and Roarke together, as well as getting to see many of the wonderful recurring secondary characters, including Nadine, Mcnab, Mira, Feeney, Reo, Baxter, Trueheart and her fantastic team. 

J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Encore in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

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Vanishing Hour by Laura Griffin – Review, Excerpt & Giveaway

Vanishing Hour by Laura Griffin – Review, Excerpt & Giveaway

 

 

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Description:
Corporate lawyer Ava Burch has had enough of the big city and the daily grind. She grew up with her father, who raised search-and-rescue dogs, in rural Texas and has moved to the small town of Cuervo to spend time in the dry, rugged wilderness near Big Bend National Park. When she and her dog, Huck, discover an abandoned campsite on a volunteer search-and-rescue mission, she’s perplexed, but she carefully photographs it all the same.

All Grant Wycoff can see when he looks at Ava is a city slicker–with her designer jeans and shiny car–who has no business on a serious team made of seasoned outdoorsmen and retired cops. But when she tells him of her findings on the trail, he sees there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Ava’s discovery reminds Grant of the unsolved case of a young woman who went missing two years ago. As they look into the campsite further, another woman disappears under odd circumstances. With time running out, Ava and Grant must work against the brutal heat from both the Texas sun and their own electric chemistry to solve the case.

 

 

Review:

Vanishing Hour by Laura Griffin is another one of her fantastic standalone mystery suspense novels.  I am a huge fan of Laura Griffin, as she is one of the best at murder suspenseful mysteries, police procedurals and a bit of romance.

We meet our heroine, Ava Burch, who has recently moved to Cuervo, and she and her friend open their own law firm. Ava also volunteers for SAR missions, as her wonderful dog, Huck is fully trained to be a search and rescue dog.  When a child is missing, Ava and Huck join the search and Huck manages to find the missing boy; and Ava also notices an old abandoned campsite, which she takes pictures of. Ava reports her findings to the local sheriff, who ignores her; but she meets deputy Grant Wycoff, who is interested in Ava’s findings.  The next day, she goes with him to the site, only to find the spot is cleared, with someone having removed it.  Huck will find a gravesite, with the remains of a missing girl from two years ago.  Molly Shaw was the missing girl, but Ava finds out that more girls have been missing over the years (Deanna Moore, Brittlyn Spencer are two of the missing).

Grant finds himself attracted to Ava, but worries about her, since she is active in trying to get more information on the missing girls. He tries to get her to not continue to investigate, as he is concerned about her safety. This is escalated when Ava and Huck find a rattlesnake in the back of her car, managing to escape the poisonous snake.  She also tells Grant about footprints under her window. Grant tries to get Ava to stay in his secured house to protect her.  Grant and Ava’s relationship begins to sizzle, though Grant is not happy about Ava taking more chances, which does complicate their romance.

I really loved Ava and Grant together, as the chemistry between them was hot. I adored Huck, who was simply amazing. Jenna (her friend) and Connor (Grant’s partner) were wonderful secondary characters. I thought the Sheriff was unlikeable for the most part.

What follows is an exciting, intriguing, suspenseful thriller that kept me on the edge throughout, especially as we raced to the climax.   Griffin gave us a great couple, wonderful secondary characters and an excellent suspenseful story.  The last half of the book was extremely tense, I could not put the book down.  I do not want to give spoilers, so you need to read this book to discover what happens.

Vanishing Hour was another excellent mystery in this series, which to no surprise, was very well written by Laura Griffin.  If you enjoy murder mysteries, police procedurals, lots of intense action, suspense, with a touch of romance, you should read this book.  If you have never read Laura Griffin, it’s time to start now, as she is an amazing writer for romance suspense.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

                                      Excerpt

Missing children are an emergency. Always. Their little bodies are less able to regulate temperature, so they’re especially vulnerable to exposure. And in a place as vast and rugged as Silver Canyon State Park, additional hazards abounded: rattlesnakes, coyotes, hundred-foot cliffs. Even the anemic little creek that Ava had been following was terrifying. A child Noah’s size could drown in a bathtub.

Ava glanced up at the relentless sun that sucked moisture out of everything beneath it. She looked ahead at Huck, who trotted back and forth in front of her in his zigzag pattern. He was working the wind, as he’d been trained, tirelessly sniffing the air with his powerful nose, which could pick up anything with human scent on it, from a candy wrapper to a dropped article of clothing.

So far, nothing.

Ava checked her watch. Two long hours since she’d left the trailhead. Sweat stung her eyes, and she wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. She paused beside a boulder and dropped her pack on the dusty ground to retrieve one of her water bottles. Huck needed some, too, but right now he was intent on his work.

She took a lukewarm sip and scanned the scrub brush lining the canyon wall. Young children had a tendency to wander aimlessly until they found a place to curl up for a nap. Some would even hide from search teams, afraid of getting in trouble for being lost. So Ava had been incessantly scanning pockets of brush.

Huck halted in front of her, his nose lifted in the air. Ava froze and watched. But then his head dropped down and he resumed his zigzags. Ava tucked the water bottle away and pushed off the boulder to continue her trek.

She watched Huck, amazed by his energy. Even in this heat, he loved working, and when he had his vest on, he didn’t have an off switch. As he bounded around in front of her, she thought of the other teams, especially the canine one. She was surprised they hadn’t found something close to camp.

Of course, the parents had been there, which might have been a problem. Frantic parents threw off a lot of scent, which could have overpowered Noah’s smell and possibly confused the dog. Also, the temperature rising in the canyon could have wafted the scent up, well above the dog’s nose. Yet another challenge here was that young children didn’t throw off as much scent as adults. And still bodies-ones that were either asleep or unconscious-threw off less scent, too.

So there were all kinds of factors in play, especially in a park this size.

Ava checked her watch again and sped up her pace, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had been settling in her stomach as the hours ticked by. Scanning the canyon wall, her gaze caught on something beige and triangular.

A tent? No.

A tarp. She climbed onto a boulder for a closer look. About halfway up the slope of the canyon was a sand-colored canvas tarp that had been stretched taut to create a patch of shade. It looked like a primitive fort-just the sort of thing that would attract a kid’s attention, and her pulse quickened as she climbed closer. Nearing the tarp, she spied a small yellow tent tucked in the shade beneath it.

She glanced around for Huck, but he was sniffing along at the base of a rockslide.

Grabbing hold of a juniper tree, Ava levered herself onto the ledge. She ducked under the tarp and paused a moment for her eyes to adjust. The little tent was unzipped. Hope ballooned in her chest as she pulled back the flap and poked her head inside.

Her hope disappeared as she scanned the interior. No sleeping child curled up in the dimness. The air was utterly still, and everything was coated with a thin layer of dust, as though no one had been there in weeks, maybe months. A pile of gear in the corner included a cookstove, a hiking boot, and a blue bedroll with a carabiner clipped to it. Attached to the carabiner was a black key fob.

A chill snaked down her spine. Who would leave their car key out here? The fob seemed odd. Ditto for the hiking boot. Where was the other one? And where was its owner?

On impulse, Ava took out her phone and snapped a couple of pictures. As part of her SAR training, she’d learned to document crime scenes. She couldn’t pinpoint why, exactly, but that was what this felt like. She ducked out and snapped a shot of the exterior. A faint bark pulled her attention back to the mission. She couldn’t afford to get sidetracked, even though this place felt creepy. She put her phone away as she skimmed the surrounding area for the missing boot, or any sign of the boot’s owner. She glanced up the canyon, looking for evidence of a fire pit or any other camping equipment.

A soft whimper had her turning around.

Huck sat beside a rock pile, his ears pricked forward and his gaze fixed on hers. Ava’s heart skittered. This was his sit alert letting her know he’d found something.

“Show me,” she commanded, and he sprang into action, bounding across the creek bed. She climbed down the rocks and jogged after him, frantically searching the clumps of trees. Huck darted around a giant prickly pear cactus and behind a line of mesquite trees. Amid the fluttering green leaves, she caught a flash of red.

“Please, please, please,” she murmured.

Huck disappeared beneath the brush and barked. Ava spied a small white sneaker and a pudgy leg.

Huck danced in a circle, drunk on success and eager for his reward.

“Good boy, Huck! Good boy! Good boy!” She filled her voice with praise, even though her heart had lodged in her throat. The little body wasn’t moving. Oh God.


 

 

Laura Griffin’s publisher Berkley is graciously offering a paper copy of  VANISHING HOUR to ONE (1) lucky commenter at The Reading Cafe.

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The Forbidden by Heather Graham – a Review

The Forbidden by Heather Graham – a Review

 

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Description:
She is someone’s darkest desire

Playing the victim of a vampire king on an island off New Orleans is actress Avalon Morgan’s creepiest role to date. It’s also scary good fun—until the victim of a real killer is discovered on set, laid out for all to see. With production shut down, Avalon can’t stop thinking about the chilling crime scene, or Grayson Avery, the investigator working the case.

With a rising body count and zero leads, Gray can’t help but be impressed by Avalon’s amateur sleuthing, which takes her to the darkest corners of the internet, where killers confess their crimes. One such account is a dead ringer for the murders, but when the evidence vanishes, nobody believes Avalon—except for Gray. With no one they can trust, Avalon and Gray are determined to unbury the truth at any cost, but a return to the deadly island could be the last thing they do.

 

 

Review:

The Forbidden by Heather Graham is the 34th book in her Krewe of Hunters series.  I have only read a few books from this series, but they do read very well as a standalone; I plan on reading more; as I enjoy Graham’s other books/series.

Avalon Morgan, our heroine, is an actress and is part of a group of actors working on a film, with most of them being friends, and working with the director for other films.  Avalon has just completed a scene with her made to look beautiful lying on a tomb, as it is a scary vampire movie.  When they break for the day, Avalon takes a walk around the island with her fellow actor friend, and they discover the body of their makeup artist friend, who was laid out exactly like the scene Avalon had just done.

The group of friends gathered together, upset about the muder, as the police questioned everyone, and shutting down production until the killer can be found.

Gray Avery, our hero, is the lead investigator, who is part of the Krewe of Hunters team that works on supernatural investigations.  Gray immediately recognizes that Avalon has unique abilities to see the dead, which he can too. At first, she refuses to talk about it, but in time she begins to trust Gray and together they work on trying to find clues; especially with Avalon insisting none of her friends committed the murder.  

Gray has his team checking out possible similar murders, and Avalon, being very good doing research on the internet, discovers the dark web, with people describing their fantasy murder; which is too close to the real thing.  Gray also becomes worried that the killer or killers are focusing on Avalon, as she fits the description of previous murders. He makes sure that Avalon comes with him at various locations, since she knows how to talk to ghosts, and he keeps an eye on her.  During this period, both Avalon and Gray find their attraction to each other becoming serious, and their chemistry was sizzling.

What follows is a tense thriller that will have them not only looking at the film crew, but also the owners of the island, who also hang around the area.  Gray suspects that there is more than one killer, who are very dangerous and evil.  To say too much more would be spoilers, and you need to read this from start to finish, as there are some twists and surprises.  The wild tense ending as we raced to the climax, had me holding my breath to see who will survive. 

The Forbidden is an exciting, intense, suspenseful, dark story of murder, with a nice romance, and lots of police procedurals. Once again, Heather Graham gives us a wild, mindboggling thriller, that kept our attention from start to finish.  I did like that both Gray and Avalon, as they made a great couple.  If you like intense supernatural thrillers, which is written so very well by Graham, then I suggest you read The Forbidden.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

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Tell No Lies by Allison Brennan – Review & Excerpt

Tell No Lies by Allison Brennan – Review & Excerpt

 

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Description:
Something mysterious is killing the wildlife in the mountains just south of Tucson. When a college intern turned activist sets out to collect her own evidence, she, too, ends up dead. Local law enforcement is slow to get involved. That’s when the mobile FBI unit goes undercover to infiltrate the town and its copper refinery in search of possible leads.

Quinn and Costa find themselves scouring the desolate landscape, which keeps revealing clues to something much darker—greed, child trafficking and more death. As the body count adds up, it’s clear they have stumbled onto much more than they bargained for. Now they must figure out who is at the heart of this mayhem and stop them before more innocent lives are lost.

 

 

 

Review:

Tell No Lies by Allison Brennan is the 2nd book in her Quinn & Costa Thriller series. The series revolves around Detective Kara Quinn and FBI Agent, Matt Costa.  Matt runs the new Mobile Response Team, which Kara is on loan from her LA Police job.  Tell No Lies starts off with a young girl (an activist), hiking with her boyfriend, as she leaves him behind to looks for clues as to water poisoning, and the girl ends up dead.  Matt brings his team into this mysterious case, with Kara going undercover as a bartender in the local area, and Michael goes undercover to work with a business that is suspected of dumping dangerous chemicals.  Matt has many of his team set in various places, as they slowly try to filter out what and who is behind it. 

Soon they will discover that there is more to what is happening, such as murder, drug cartel and human trafficking. From the beginning there were so many different pieces of the puzzle, which was a bit confusing, trying to understand if this was connected or different villains. 

What I loved about this story was getting to know the main characters, Matt, Kara, Ryder, Michael and others we meet along the way, and learn how those going undercover can handle their dangerous situations.  I loved Kara, as she was a wonderful heroine, as I noted that in the first book.  She was a great detective, experienced in undercover work, and was very empathic when children were involved; as she was insistent to Matt and the team that something else was going on with children. 

What follows is an intense, pulse pounding thriller from start to finish.  As I said there were so many different elements to the story, you needed to pay attention all the way through.  When a member of the family owning the company in question is murdered, everything is escalated, which will affect almost everyone in the family.  Who was truly behind what was happening? Was this human trafficking or drug cartel?

As we got closer to the tense climax, the danger escalated in this heart stopping thriller, with so many people involved, including the evil cartel villians; and we worried who would survive.   I could not put the book down, as the suspense was amazing.  Tell No Lies was so well written by Allison Brennan, that I fully recommend you read this fantastic exciting edge of your seat thriller.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

Prologue
Two months ago
Tucson, Arizona

Billy Nixon had been waiting his whole life to have sex with Emma Perez. Okay, not all his life. Two and a half years. It just felt that way since he’d fallen in love with her the day they met in Microeconomics, on his first day of classes at the University of Arizona. Love at first sight is a cliché, and until that moment in time Billy didn’t believe in any of that bullshit. His parents were divorced, his older sister had been in and out of bad relationships since she was fifteen, and his friends slept around as if the apocalypse was upon them.
But in the back of his mind, he remembered the story about how his grandparents met the day before his grandfather shipped off to the Korean War, how they wrote letters every week, and how three years later his grandfather came home and they married. They were married for fifty-six years before his grandfather died; his grandmother died three months later.
That’s what Billy wanted. Without having to go to war.
It took Emma two years before the same feeling clicked inside her. They’d been friends. They both dated other people (well, Billy pretended to date because he couldn’t in good conscience lead another girl on when he knew that he didn’t care about her like he cared about Emma). But it was three months ago, when Emma lost her ride home to Denver for the Christmas holidays and he found her crying in her dorm room, that he said, “I’ll drive you there,” even though he was a Tucson native and lived with his dad to save money.
From then on, she looked at him differently. Like her eyes had been opened and she saw in him what he saw in her. From that point on, they were inseparable.
The morning after they first made love, Billy knew there was no other girl, no other woman, with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Call him a romantic, but Emma was it. He had started saving money for a ring. They were finishing up their third year of college, so had a year left, but that was okay. He did well in school and had a part-time job. He already had a job lined up for the summer in Phoenix that paid well, and he could live there cheaply with his sister—though the thought of spending two months with his emotional, self-absorbed sibling was a big negative. And the idea of leaving Emma for two months made him miserable. But if he did this, he’d have enough money, not only for a ring, but to get an apartment when they graduated. And—maybe—his job this summer would be a permanent thing when he was done with college next spring, which meant he’d have stability. Something he desperately wanted to provide for Emma.
Emma rolled over in bed and sighed. He loved when his dad was out of town and he had the house to himself, since they had no privacy in Emma’s dorm. Billy kissed the top of her head. He thought she was still sleeping, or in that dreamy state right before you wake up. It wasn’t even dawn, but how could he go back to sleep with Emma Perez naked in his bed?
“Billy?” she said.
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Anything.” “I need to go to Mount Wrightson today. The Patagonia side of the mountain.”
“Okay.”
An odd request, but Emma spent a lot of time these days in the Santa Rita Mountains and surrounding areas. She was a business and environmental sciences double major who worked part-time at the Arizona Resources and Environmental Agency—AREA, as they called it—the state environmental protection agency.
“For work, school or fun?” he said.
“Last week my Geology class went out to Mount Wrightson and we hiked partway down the Arizona Trail. I noticed several dead birds off the trail. My professor didn’t think it was anything, but it bothered me. So I talked to my boss, Frank, at work, and he said if my professor didn’t think it was unusual, then it wasn’t. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so went back a couple days ago on my own. One of the closed trails has been used recently. And I found more dead birds, more than a dozen.”
“Which means what?”
“I don’t know yet, but birds are especially vulnerable to contaminated water because of their small size and metabolism. Remember when I told you my boss got an anonymous letter two years ago? Signed A Concerned Citizen and postmarked from Patagonia? The letter writer claimed that several local people were being made sick and that the water supply was tainted. Frank tested the water supply himself after that, but he didn’t find anything abnormal. So he dismissed it. But no one has been able to explain why those people were sick.”
“And remember—there was no evidence that anyone was sick,” Billy said. “The letter was anonymous. It could have just been a disgruntled prankster. Didn’t Frank talk to the health center about the complaint? Didn’t he investigate the local copper refinery?”
“Yes,” she said and sighed in a way that made him feel like he was missing something. “Maybe two years ago it wasn’t real,” she said in a way that made Billy think she really didn’t believe that. “But now my gut tells me something’s going on, and I want to know what.”
“You told your boss about the dead birds. You said he was a good guy, right?”
“Yeah, but I think he still thinks I’m a tree hugger.”
“You certainly gave that impression when you first started there and questioned their entire record-keeping process and the way Frank had conducted that original investigation.”
“I’ve apologized a hundred times. I realize now how much goes into keeping accurate records, and that AREA uses one of the best systems in the country. I’ve learned so much from Frank. I really believe I can make a difference now, and be smart about it too. All I want is to give him facts, Billy. And the only way I can do that is if I go back up there.”
Billy didn’t have the same passion for the environment that Emma had, but he loved her commitment to nature and how she continued to learn and adapt to new and changing technologies and ideas.
“Whatever you want to do, I’m with you,” he said. He’d follow her through the Amazon jungle if she asked him to.
“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” she said, as if he needed encouragement to do anything for her. “I just want to check out the trails near where I found the second flock of birds. We can have a picnic, make a day out of it.”
“Good call, bribing me with food.”
She smiled. “I can bribe you with something else too.” Then she kissed him.
* * *
An hour later the sun was up and they stopped for breakfast in the tiny town of Sonoita, southeast of Tucson where Highways 82 and 83 intersected. Emma had been quiet the entire drive, taking notes while analyzing a topo map.
As they ate, Emma showed him the map and her notes. “The dead birds I found last week with the class were Mexican jays. The ones I found after that on my own were trogons. I’ve been studying both of their migration patterns. The jays have a wider range. The trogons are much more localized. It seems unlikely that they just dropped dead out of the sky for no reason. I’m thinking, logically, they might have been poisoned. I don’t see any large body of water near where I found them, but there’s a pond here that forms during the rainy season.” She pointed.
While Billy couldn’t read a topo map to save his life, he trusted her thinking.
“That pond, or this stream—” she pointed again “—are right under one of their migration routes. I’ve also highlighted some other seasonal streams, here and here.”
“That seems like a huge area. North and south of Eighty-Two? How can we cover all of that in one day? Where are the roads?”
“We can hike.”
He frowned. Hike, sure. But this looked like a three-day deal.
“Emma, maybe you should talk to your boss again, show him the map and tell him what you suspect.”
“But I haven’t found anything yet—just on the map!”
Tears sprouted to her eyes, and Billy panicked. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “Okay, what are we doing, then?”
“If you don’t want to help me, Billy, just say so.”
“I do, Emma. I just need to know the full plan, and I don’t understand your notes. I don’t even know where exactly I’m going.”
“This is the town of Patagonia, see?” She trailed her finger along one of the paths that went from Patagonia up the mountain. “And this is Mount Wrightson, to the north.”
Billy had hiked to the peak of Mount Wrightson once. He wasn’t into nature and hiking like Emma, but he liked being outdoors, so he took a conservation class that doubled as a science requirement. His idea of being outdoors was playing baseball or volleyball or riding his bike.
“Okay.”
“We need to hike halfway up Wrightson. I found a service road that I think we can use to get most of the way to the trailhead. Okay?”
“If you’re sure about this,” he said.
She frowned and looked back down at her map. He hated that he’d made her sad.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s fine.”
“You don’t want to go.”
“I do. I just don’t want us to get lost.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “Stick with me and you won’t.”
That was the smile he needed. He took her hand, interlocked their fingers. “I trust you.”
“Good.” She gave him a quick kiss, and they left the café and got back on the road.

Several hours later, Billy wasn’t as accommodating. They’d parked at the end of a dirt road near the trailhead halfway up the southeastern side of the mountain and been hiking through rough terrain ever since. The landscape was dotted with some trees and pines, but not as dense or pretty or green as on the top of the mountain. The land wasn’t dry—the wet winter and snow runoff had ensured that—so the area was hard to navigate, and the paths they were on weren’t maintained. Billy doubted they were trails at all.
The hiking had been fine up until lunch. At noon, they ate their picnic, which was a nice break, because then they had sex and relaxed in the middle of nature. It wasn’t quiet—they heard birds and a light breeze and the rustling of critters. A family of jackrabbits crossed only feet from them as they lay on the blanket Billy had brought. Afterward, Billy suggested they head back to the truck. He was tired, and they had already walked miles, which meant as many miles back to the truck.
But Emma didn’t want to leave. He was pretty sure she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but that she had this idea that if she walked long and far enough, she’d find evidence to support her theory that something nefarious had been happening out here to kill all those birds.
So Billy kept his mouth shut and followed her.
By four that afternoon, Billy was pretty sure Emma had gotten them lost. They had seemed to zigzag across the southern face of Mount Wrightson. He was tired, and even the birds had gone quiet, as if they were getting ready to settle in and nest for the night, even though sunset was still a few hours away.
He stopped next to a tree that was taller than most and that provided much-needed shade. It was only seventy-six degrees, but the sky was clear and the sun had been beating down on them all afternoon. He was glad he’d thought to bring sunscreen, otherwise they’d both be fried by now.
He dropped the large backpack he’d been carrying that contained their picnic stuff, blanket, water, first aid kit and emergency supplies. He knew enough about the desert not to go hiking without food and water to last at least twenty-four hours. Like if his truck didn’t start when they got back, they needed to be okay. So he had extra water—but he didn’t tell Emma that. It was for emergencies only.
“We’re down to our last water bottles,” he said. He’d paced himself so he had two left, whereas Emma had gone through all six of hers.
He handed her one of the two. “Drink.”
She sipped, handed it back to him. “Thirty more minutes, honey. See this?” She pointed to the damn map that he wanted to tear into pieces now, except without it he was positive they would be lost here forever. “That’s the large seasonal pond I was talking about. It’ll dry up before summer, according to the topo charts.”
How she could stay so cheerful when he was hot and tired and, frankly, bored, he didn’t know.
“How far?”
“Down this path, not more than two hundred yards. Three hundred, maybe.”
He looked at her. Implored her to let them start heading back.
“Why don’t you stay here and wait,” she said.
“You don’t mind?”
She smiled, walked over and kissed him. “Promise.”
Twenty minutes later she was back where Billy waited. She looked so sad and defeated. “I’m ready to go,” she said.
“We’ll come back next weekend, okay? We’ll bring a tent and food and camp overnight.”
She looked surprised at his suggestion, a smile on her face. “You mean that?”
“Absolutely.”
She threw her arms around him. “I love you, Billy Nixon.”
His heart nearly stopped. “I love you, too,” he said and held her. He wanted to freeze this moment, relive it every day of his life.
“We’re actually closer to your truck than you think—we made a circle. First we went north, then west, then south, now we’re going east again. When we get back to the main trail at the fork back there, we go left rather than right, and the truck is about half a mile up.”
He was impressed; he had underestimated her. Maybe they weren’t as lost as he thought; maybe he was the only one with a shitty sense of direction. But that was okay, because Emma loved him, and they were going to be together forever. He knew it in his heart and his head, and she’d always be there to navigate.
They drove down the mountain, the road rough at first, then it smoothed out as they got near town. They headed west on 82, deciding to drive the scenic route back to Tucson. Emma marked her map to highlight where they’d already walked, when suddenly she looked up. “Hey, can you get off here?”
“Have to pee again?”
“Ha ha. No. There’s several old roads that go south. Sonoita Creek, when it floods, cuts fast-flowing streams into the valley. We had a couple late storms this winter. I just want to check the area quickly—we’ll come back next weekend. But if I see anything that tells me the streams were running a few weeks ago, I want to come back here first. Okay? Please?”
Billy was tired, but Emma loved him, so he happily turned off the highway and followed her directions. They drove about a mile along a very rough unpaved road until they reached a narrow path. His truck couldn’t go down there—there were small cacti sprouting up all over the place, and the chances of him getting a flat increased exponentially.
Emma got out, and Billy reluctantly followed. She was excited. “See that grove of trees down there?”
He did. It looked more like overgrown brush, but it was greener than anything else around them.
“I’ll bet there’s still water. This is on the outer circle of where the birds could have flown from. I just want to check.”
“The path looks kinda steep and rocky. You sure about this?”
She kissed him. “I’m sure. Stay here, okay? I won’t be long.”
“Ten minutes.” “Fifteen.” She kissed him again, put her backpack on and headed down the path.

He sat in the back of his truck and watched Emma navigate the downward slope. He doubted this “path” had been used anytime in the last few years. From his vantage point, he saw several darker areas, plants dense and green, and suspected that Emma was right—this valley would get water after big storms.
Emma was beautiful and smart. What wasn’t to love?
He watched until she disappeared from view into the brush.
He frowned. He should have gone with her. Was he just sulking because he was tired and hungry?
Predators were out here—coyotes, bobcats, javelinas. Javelinas could be downright mean even if you did nothing to provoke them. Not to mention that these mountains bordered the corridor for trafficking illegal immigrants. Billy had taken a criminal justice class his freshman year and they touched upon that topic. He didn’t want to encounter a two-legged predator any more than one on four legs.
What kind of man was he if he couldn’t suck it up and help the woman he loved?
So he grabbed his backpack and headed down the path Emma had taken. He was in pretty good shape, but this hike had wasted him. Emma must have been fitter than he was, because she’d barely slowed down all day. After this, they’d go to his place, shower—maybe he could convince Emma to take a shower with him—and then he’d take her out to dinner. After all, they had something to celebrate: the first time they said “I love you.” They’d go to El Charro, maybe. It was Billy’s favorite Mexican food in Tucson, not too expensive, great food. Take an Uber so they could have a couple of drinks.
He wished he were there right now. His stomach growled as he stumbled and then caught himself before he fell on his ass.
He was halfway down the hill when a scream pierced the mountainside. Billy ran the rest of the way down the narrow, rocky trail. “Emma!”
No answer.
He yelled louder for her. “Emma! Emma!”
He slipped when the trail made a sudden drop as it went steeply down to a small pond—the seasonal one that Emma must have been looking for. The beauty of the spot with its trees and boulders all around was striking in the desert, and for a split second he thought it was a mirage. Then all he could think about was that Emma had been bitten by a rattlesnake, or had fallen into the water, or had slipped and broken her leg.
But she didn’t respond to his repeated calls.
“Emma!”
He stood on the edge of the pond, frantically searching for her. Looking for wild animals, a bobcat that she may have surprised. A herd of javelinas that might have attacked her. Anything.
Movement to his right startled him, and he turned around quickly.
In the shade, he saw someone. He shouted, wondering if Emma was disorientated or had gone the wrong way. But whatever he thought he saw was now gone.
Then he saw her.
Emma’s body was half in, half out of the pond, a good hundred feet beyond him, obscured in part by an outcrop of large rocks on the water’s edge. He ran to her and dropped to his knees. His first thought was that she had slipped and hit her head. Some blood glistened on her scalp.
“Emma, where are you hurt? Emma?”
She didn’t respond. Then he saw the blood on a hand-sized rock on the edge of the pond. And he felt more blood on the back of her skull.
“No, no, no!”
He saw her chest rise and fall. She was alive, but unconscious. He pulled out his phone, but there was no signal. He had to get help, but he couldn’t leave her here.
Billy picked Emma up and, as quickly as he could, carried her up the steep hillside to his truck.
As he drove back to the main road, he called 911. An ambulance met him in the closest town, Patagonia.
But by then Emma was already dead.

Excerpted from Tell No Lies by Allison Brennan, Copyright © 2021 by Allison Brennan. Published by MIRA Books.

 


 

 

ALLISON BRENNAN is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over thirty novels. She has been nominated for Best Paperback Original Thriller by International Thriller Writers and the Daphne du Maurier Award. A former consultant in the California State Legislature, Allison lives in Arizona with her husband, five kids and assorted pets.

Social Links:
Author website: https://www.allisonbrennan.com/
Facebook: @AllisonBrennan
Twitter: @Allison_Brennan
Instagram: @abwrites
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/52527.Allison_Brennan

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Hidden by Laura Griffin – a Review

Hidden by Laura Griffin – a Review

 

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Description:
When a woman is found brutally murdered on Austin’s lakeside hike-and-bike trail, investigative reporter Bailey Rhoads turns up on the scene demanding access and answers. She tries to pry information out of the lead detective, Jacob Merritt. But this case is unlike any he’s ever seen, and nothing adds up.

Bailey has a hunch the victim wasn’t who she claimed to be and believes this mugging-turned-murder could have been a targeted hit. When she digs deeper, the trail leads her to a high-tech fortress on the outskirts of Austin where researchers are pushing the boundaries of a cutting-edge technology that could be deadly in the wrong hands.

As a ruthless hit man’s mission becomes clear, Bailey and Jacob must embark on a desperate search to locate the next target before the clock ticks down on this lethal game of hide and seek.

 

 

Review:

Hidden by Laura Griffin is the first book in her new The Texas Murder Files series.  I am a big fan of Griffin, as I have read most of her books, especially her fantastic Tracers series.   The story starts off with a bang, as a young woman is running in the park, her usual morning exercise, when she begins to suspect that someone is following her and runs for her life. 

Jacob Merrit, our hero, is an Austin Texas detective, who is on the scene trying find some information on a dead woman that was stabbed to death.  She has no identification on her, until he finds a phone belonging to the woman, and comes across the name, Dana Smith. Unfortunately, Dana Smith does not exist and in a short time, the FBI steps in to handle the case.  Jacob is determined to work on this alone, as he suspects there is something more than the FBI is telling them.

Bailey Rhoads is an investigative reporter, and quickly jumps in on the murder scene.  But no one will tell her anything, it is all secretive.  When Bailey tries to get information from Detective Merrit, he too refuses to tell a reporter anything.  Bailey refuses to stop, and uses her own contacts to get whatever information she can, and at some point, she offers Jacob some info she finds, if he will share his with her.  The two of them at first don’t trust each other, especially Jacob, who never trusts reporters.   But in a short time, they will both begin to feel the attraction to each other, as a slow build romance begins, though mostly in the background. 

Both Bailey and Jacob find their own evidence that this victim was in the witness protection system, and somehow someone who wants her out of the way discovered her and killed her.  There is a second person from the same case who is also in the witness protection and Bailey is willing to do all she can to find and save that woman.  Jacob starts worrying, as he knows Bailey’s investigations could put her in danger, but she refuses to back down.

I liked Jacob, as he was a strong hero, and a great detective, though in the romance department, it took him awhile to allow himself to have feelings for Bailey.  I loved Bailey, as she was determined to finish her story, even to the point of putting her own life in danger.   Jacob’s partner, Kendra was also a good detective who worked well with him. 

What follows is an exciting, intriguing, suspenseful thriller that kept us on the edge throughout, especially as we raced to the climax.   Griffin gave us a great couple, and secondary characters.  The last half of the book was extremely tense, I could not put the book down.  I do not want to give spoilers, so you need to read this book to discover what happens.

Hidden was an excellent mystery that was very well written by Laura Griffin.  If you enjoy murder mysteries, police procedurals, lots of intense action, suspense, with a touch of romance, you should read this book.  If you have never read Laura Griffin, it’s time to start now, as she is an amazing writer for romance suspense.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

 

 

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