#Review #DeathTakesABath by Sharon Lynn #PartnersInCrimeTours

Death Takes a Bath

by Sharon Lynn

August 14-25, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

When Maddie McGuire lands an archeology internship at the Roman Baths in England, she assumes everything will go her way. But when this college sophomore discovers a severed human ear on her doorstep, she must solve its meaning before she becomes the next victim, or worse, gets deported. Her tentative friendship with young constable Edward and the beauty of the Bath Abbey are no comfort as her aristocratic coworker Simon sabotages her every move. And the danger only increases when she discovers a dead body, both ears intact.

Praise for Death Takes a Bath:

“A whale of a read! Dip your toe into Death Takes a Bath, and you won’t come out until you’ve reached ‘the end.” A highly recommended page-turner with archaeology, intrigue, an intrepid heroine, a dishy policeman, and . . . a rabbit.”
~ Molly MacRae, Author: The Highland Bookshop Mystery Series

“An exciting page-turner! It captured my attention from the first line and kept me riveted until the final twist.”
~ Avanti Centrae, international bestselling author of Cleopatra’s Vendetta

Book Details:

Genre: Traditional Mystery/Cozy
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date:
Number of Pages:
ISBN: 978-1685122423 (ISBN-10: ‎1685122426)
Series: A Cotswold Crimes Mystery, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookBub | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

The First Discovery

“What’s nine-one-one in England?” I squeaked at my cell.

Black dots dancing before my eyes, I stabbed at the mic icon on the phone and repeated the question.

“I found one number for emergency services in Great Britain,” the soothing electronic voice informed me. “Nine-nine-nine.”

My fingers trembled, and the phone smacked to the ground. As I reached to retrieve it, Roddy, the cottage’s fluffy black-and-white rabbit, hopped to inspect the object.

Jaw clenched in a death grip, my vision getting cloudy, I forced myself to stand still and count slowly to five. The world stopped spinning, allowing me to reach for the phone.

“Don’t eat that,” I warned Roddy in a passing imitation of my mother. I scooped him up for comfort and maneuvered my cell so I could see the screen.

“Okay. Here we go.” I pushed the numbers as I said them. “Nine, nine, nine.”

“What service do you require?” a voice on the other end inquired. “Ambulance, police, fire, or Coast Guard?”

“Um.” Coast Guard? My brain short-circuited on the unfamiliar option. If there was one thing you never needed in the Arizona desert, it was the Coast Guard. My body swayed unsteadily as I contemplated the question.

“Are you able to speak?” the voice prompted.

Emergency. I needed to tell them. “Ear,” I stuttered, unable to form a sentence around the horror of the situation.

“You’re here, yes. If you are unable to speak, tap twice if you are in imminent danger.”

The professional but concerned voice had its intended effect of calming me. Shaking my head, I changed tactics. Instead of discussing the details of what I’d found, I asked for the police.

After a complicated exchange that gave me time to form my response, a male police officer asked my emergency.

Shuddering, I said, “Hi. My name is Madeline McGuire. I’m an exchange student from America, and I found an ear.” The words tumbled from my mouth. “A human ear. A freshly severed human ear.”

Saying it out loud made it real. Bunny in arm, I sunk to the floor, clinging to fluffy comfort. The image of the blood-stained ear spilling out of the salt-packed box loomed in my mind, stirring the acids in my stomach.

The voice of the officer broke through my thoughts. “You did the right thing to call. Do you have the address of your location?”

“Ash Tree cottage on Greenway Lane, Bath, England.”

“I’ll stay on the line until a constable arrives,” he told me.

Teeth chattering, I nodded robotically.

“Miss?”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be fine. Fine,” I said, not sounding even a little fine. “I’ll make coffee. This seems like a coffee moment.”

“I’ve found that tea is quite soothing in difficult situations,” the officer offered.

Ignoring the suggestion, I treaded into the kitchen, Roddy clutched to my chest, the phone pressed to my ear.

“I could have done without your discovery, Roddy,” I muttered. When I brought the rabbit in from the pouring rain, I let him roam free long enough for him to chew a hole through the cardboard of a newly delivered package.

“What was that, miss?” the policeman on the line asked.

“Oh, sorry. Talking to my rabbit.”

“Miss?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

I hadn’t blinked in a long time. A tremor rippled through me as I set the rabbit on the kitchen floor. With a weird detachment, I noted that Roddy’s black-and-white fur matched the checkerboard tile. The pattern became mesmerizing, a safe place for my mind until I collapsed against the counter.

Catching myself, I said, “Coffee. Coffee is good.” Filling the electric kettle, I flickered the “On” switch, then retrieved the French press. A mostly empty bag of stale coffee sat behind the press.

Dumping the ground beans into the glass cylinder, I filled the press with hot water.

It was a mundane task that I had done hundreds of times. I wondered, could I make coffee without my ear?

As I pushed the plunger to infuse the water with grounds, I almost shoved the contraption onto the floor. Catching it just in time, I shakily poured myself a cup. Ignoring the scalding heat, I gulped.

Caffeine coursed through my system, making me jumpy as I thought about the consequences of receiving a body part. An ear in the mail would make a little sense back in Chicago, where I was getting my archeology degree. Mobsters still controlled parts of the city, and the paper always mentioned grizzly retribution crimes.

As I took another sip, I imagined finding the package while at college. The dorm would buzz with gossip, wondering what the intended recipient had done. And I would know it wasn’t meant for me.

I had only been in Bath for two days. I didn’t know anyone in England, especially not well enough to offend them.

Did that mean the homeowners where I had a room were being warned? My stomach curdled at the thought. I hadn’t met them yet, but I considered them friends after the year of emails we exchanged. Bad people wouldn’t own a bunny, would they?

Losing control, I hunched over, retching dry heaves.

I leaned my back against the pantry door and slid to the floor. Roddy hopped in my lap, comforting me.

“Miss?”

I yelped, causing the rabbit to bound off of me, his powerful legs digging into my jeans. I’d forgotten the phone.

“Hello?”

“Constable Bailey is on your street. His collar number is 16941.”

“There’s a pull chain to open the latch on the gate. The box is in the mudroom. Tell him to come in.”

“Mudroom?” For the first time, my dispatcher sounded unsure.

***

Excerpt from Death Takes a Bath by Sharon Lynn. Copyright 2023 by Sharon Lynn. Reproduced with permission from Sharon Lynn. All rights reserved.

Review By Coffee & Ink

This is a marvelous cozy with a charming main character in the wonderful setting of Bath.

Maddie is a student of archeology, anxious to gain experience in the field. She leaves Arizona to take an internship but encounters a severed human ear left on her doorstep. Since she’s renting a room with a family gone abroad for vacation, she wonders if it was intended for them and not her. But she’s determined to continue giving tours and learning all she can while she’s here. A series of odd coincidences and eventually the discovery of a dead body put her in imminent danger.

Maddie starts a romance with the Scottish policeman who comes to her aid when she makes her 999 call about the ear. The romance is braided deftly through the plot, making for a very interesting read.

I loved the setting, the inner workings of the archeology department giving tours and handling donations. This one kept me guessing all the way through with a very satisfying ending.

I don’t usually read cozies—I don’t always like the tone, I guess. But I loved this one, which makes me very happy, and I hope this is the beginning of an interesting series.

Author Bio:

Sharon Lynn was raised in Arizona, but it was living in England as a teenager and every return trip since that inspired the setting of her Cotswold Crimes Mystery series. As a professor of theater, film, and writing she coaches and mentors aspiring artists. Her short stories can be found in anthologies from Malice Domestic and Desert Sleuths. She is a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and International Thriller Writers. Please sign up for her newsletter at http://www.sharonlwrites.com and http://www.blackbirdwriters.com.

Catch Up With Sharon Lynn:
www.sharonlwrites.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @sharonlwrites
Instagram – @sharonlwrites
Twitter – @sharonlwrites
Facebook – @SharonLWrites
AllAuthor.com

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08/14 Review @ reviewsbyrudra
08/15 Review @ Book Reviews From an Avid Reader
08/16 Review @ Sapphyrias Books
08/17 Review @ Its All About the Book
08/18 Review @ My Reading Getaway
08/19 Review @ tea. and. titles
08/21 Review @ Guatemala Paula Loves to Read
08/22 Review @ Coffee and Ink
08/22 Review @ sunny island breezes
08/23 Review @ 5 Minutes for Books
08/23 Review @ Reading is my Superpower
08/24 Review @ Book Corner News & Reviews
08/24 Review @ Waterside Kennels Mysteries
08/25 Review @ Must Read Faster
08/25 Review @ Novels Alive
10/04 Book Talk with Fran Lewis @ Blog Talk Radio

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Word x Word Historical #CritiqueGroup Invite

We’re looking to add to our group of critique partners. This is for writers of historical fiction, and its subgenres–fantasy, romance, mystery, suspense, supernatural, gothic. All eras and cultures welcome. (The industry definition of historical is 50 years ago.) LGBTQ+ welcome. Short stories, novellas, novel beta swaps, chapter by chapter, and brainstorming. Hopefully we’ll find enough writers so everyone can find someone to connect with. Maybe we’ll have some word sprints if enough people are interested.

We meet on Facebook and exchange work through email attachments and use track changes. If you prefer Google Docs, that’s fine, too. It’s about the writing and finding a safe group to support you and your stories.

The best way is to find us on Facebook and to request membership into the group. It’s not monitored 24-7, and we’ll get to you within a day or two. We’re looking forward to reading you!

(Must be over 18 years of age.)

#Review #DeadlyDepths by John Dobbyn #PICTours

Deadly Depths

by John F Dobbyn

July 24 – August 18, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The death by bizarre means of his mentor, Professor Barrington Holmes, draws Mathew Shane into the quest of five archeologists, known to each other as “The Monkey’s Paws”, for an obscure object of unprecedented historic and financial value. The suspected murders of others of the Monkey’s Paws follow their pursuit of five clues found in a packet of five ancient parchments. Shane’s commitment to disprove the police theory of suicide by Professor Holmes carries him to the steamy bayous of New Orleans, the backstreets of Montreal, the sunken wreck of a pirate vessel off Barbados, and the city of Maroon descendants of escaped slaves in Jamaica. By weaving a thread from the sacrificial rites of the Aztec kingdom before the Spanish conquest of Mexico through the African beliefs of Jamaican Maroons and finally to the ventures of Captain Henry Morgan during the Golden Era of Piracy in his conquest and sacking of Spanish cities on the Spanish Main, Shane reaches a conclusion he could never have anticipated.

Praise for Deadly Depths:

“Deadly Depths gives readers characters they care about and gets hearts pumping as the mystery and adventure unfold!”
~ Janet Hutchings, Editor, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine

“Deadly Depths is an exciting mystery novel that asks who has the right to seek and exploit lost treasures.”
~ Foreword Reviews

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Crime Thriller
Published by: Oceanview Publishing
Publication Date: August 2023
Number of Pages: 320
ISBN: 9781608095483 (ISBN10: 1608095487)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Oceanview Publishing

Read an excerpt:

We arrived at an area of private docks in a town called Oistins. The driver stopped at the base of a wharf that anchored power boats of every size, speed, and description. One power yacht stood out as the choice of the fleet. The Sun Catcher. My guide hustled us both directly to the carpeted gangplank that led on board a vessel that could pass for a floating Ritz Carlton.

The engines were already revving. I was escorted to a padded deck-lounge with maximum view on the foredeck. I had scarcely settled in, when we were slicing through late-afternoon sea-swells that barely caused a rise and fall.

My guide, still in suit and tie, brought me, without either of us asking, a tall, cool, planter’s punch with an ample kick of Mount Gay Rum. For the first moment since Mick O’Flynn told me that someone was asking for me, I made a fully-considered decision. This entire fantasy could easily turn into a disaster that could outstrip New Orleans and Montreal together, but to hell with it. It was just too elating not to accept it at face value – at least for the moment.

My mind was just settling into a comfortable neutral, when I heard footsteps from behind that had more heft than I imagined my guide could produce. I made a move to swing out of the padded deck-chair, when I felt the touch of a hand with authoritative strength on my shoulder. The voice that went with it had the same commanding undertone.

“Stay where you are, Michael. I’ll join you.”

A matching deck-chair was set beside me. I found myself looking up at a shadow against the setting sun that appeared double my bulk and yet compact as an Olympic hammer-thrower. The voice came again. “You’re an interesting study, Michael. I may call you ‘Michael’, right? I should. I probably know more about you than anyone you know. You might have guessed that by now.”

An open hand reached down out of the shadow. I took it. The handshake fit the shaker. It took some seconds for the feeling to come back into mine.

Before I could answer, the voice was coming from the deck-lounge beside me. “No need for coy name games. You know that I’m Wayne Barnes. And you know that I’m one of the, shall we say, associates in that little clique we call the Monkey’s Paws. In fact, your escort here, Emile, tells me it was the mention of my name that swung your decision to get on that plane.”

He nodded to my nearly empty Planter’s Punch. “Another?”

Before I could answer, he gave a slight nod to someone behind us. Before I could say “Yes”, or possibly, but less likely, “No”, a native Bajan in a server’s uniform was at my left taking my empty and handing me a full glass.
I was three good sips into the second glass before I said my first word since coming aboard. I looked over at Wayne. I seemed to have his full focus. His engaging smile seemed to carry a full message of relaxed hospitality, and none of the threatening undercurrents I was scanning for. “You have an interesting way of delivering an invitation, Mr. Barnes”

He raised a hand. “Wayne.”

“’Wayne’ it is. You must have an interesting social life.”

“I do. Do you find it offensive?”

I looked over the bow, past the deepening blue crystal water to the reddening horizon. I felt the soothing caress of the slightly salted ocean breeze. I took one more sip of the most perfectly balanced planters punch of a lifetime, and looked back at Wayne. “Not in the slightest. Yet.”

“Ah yes, ‘yet’.”

“Right. I’m sure this won’t impress you, Wayne, and it’s not a complaint, but I’ve had a week full of enough tragedy to fill a lifetime. Hence the ‘yet’.”

His smile and focused attention remained. “I know more about your week, perhaps, than even you do. But go on.”

The second planter’s punch was having a definitely mollifying effect. “I have no idea what you mean by that last statement, Wayne, so I’ll just pass on. Given that week, and the abrupt transport from hell on earth to . . . paradise on earth, I’d have to be Mrs. Shane’s backward child not to listen for a second shoe to drop.”

The smile expanded. Still no alarms. “Or perhaps you’ve come into a sea-change of good luck, Michael. Why not go with that?”

“Why not indeed? For the moment. Just one question. ”

“Alright. One question. For now. Make it a good one.”

“Oh it is. It’s a beaut. Ecstatic as I am with all this, why the hell am I here?”

That brought a bursting laugh. “I think I’m going to enjoy having you around for a couple of days, Michael. You have an instinct for the jugular. No chipping around the edges. We won’t waste each other’s time.”

“Thank you. But that’s not an answer.”

“No it isn’t.” He looked out to the diminishing sunset. “The only answer I can give you at the moment that would do justice to the question is this. And you’ll just have to live with it for now. You’re here for a quick but depthful education. I think you’ll find it well worth two days of your life. Are you in?”

“Do I have a choice?”

We both looked back at the rapidly diminishing shore-line behind us. “None that comes to mind. Now are you in?”

That brought a smile from me, another healthy sip of the planter’s punch, and a deep breath of the ocean-fresh breeze. “I’m in.”

We chatted through the sunset on far-ranging subjects that had no association whatever with Monkeys Paws, Maroons, murder-suicides – in fact nothing that gave a clue as to why my gracious host had chosen my company over the undoubtedly vast range of his acquaintances. By then, the moon had risen.

At some point, I was aware that the engines had stopped. The splash of two anchors could be heard on either side. The sun had set. The shift from twilight to a darkness, penetrated only by a quarter moon went unnoticed.

I was slowly sipping away at my third or possibly fourth Planter’s Punch, when I became aware of a bobbing light approaching from the port side. Without interrupting the flow of conversation, I noticed that Wayne was following its approach with more than the occasional glance until it reached the side of the yacht.

Within a few minutes, my original guide, still in suit and tie, approached Wayne’s side with an inaudible whisper. I sensed that a bit of steel crept into Wayne’s otherwise conversational tone. “I’ll see him.”

I began to get up to provide privacy. Wayne held my arm in position. “Stay, Michael. Let your education begin.” My guide nodded to someone behind us and lit his path with a small flashlight.

I settled back, as a fiftyish man with narrow, cautious eyes and thinning grey hair that might have last been combed by his mother came up along Wayne’s right side. The loose wrinkles in his ageless cotton suit indicated that he might have been close to six feet, but for a constant stoop as if to pass under an unseen beam. The stoop caused his head to bob and gave him the look of one asking for royal permission to approach.

Wayne’s eyes turned to him. I noticed the stoop of the back became more noticeable. Wayne’s voice was calm and soft, but it commanded his visitor’s full attention. “Do you have it? I assume you wouldn’t be here without it, yes, Yusuf?”

The thin mouth cracked into a smile that conveyed no humor. “Of course. Of course. But perhaps our business . . .”

Wayne nodded toward me. “No fear. Mr. Shayne is here for an education. We shouldn’t deprive him of that, should we?”

The smile on the man’s lips did not match the apprehension in the tiny eyes, but he nodded. “As you say.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The man gave a slight glance to either side as if it were the habit of a lifetime. He reached into some deep pocket inside his suitcoat. I noticed a slight but tell-tale hesitation before he slipped out what appeared to be a hard, flat, roundish object, about seven inches across. It was wrapped in several layers of ragged cloth.

He held it until Wayne extended a hand and took it onto his lap. He laid it on the small tray on his stomach. He looked back at the man, who simply forced a smile .

“I assume it all went well?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Barnes. No problems,”

Wayne smiled back. “How I do love to hear those words.”

My eyes were glued to Wayne’s hands as he carefully peeled back one layer of cloth after another. When he turned over the last layer, the object in the shape of a disc sent out instant glints of reflections of the rising moonlight.

I could see Wayne running the tips of his fingers over the entire jagged surface of the disc. He took a flip cigarette lighter out of his pocket, opened it, and lit the flame. When he held it close to the object, I could make out the resemblance of a human face, coarsely pieced together from chips of green stone.

Wayne held it up toward me and ran the flame in front of it.

“Do you recognize it Michael?”

“I’m afraid not.”

He nodded. “Most wouldn’t. Your friend, Professor Holmes, would spot it immediately. The Mayans made death masks to protect their important rulers in their journey to the afterlife. They go back to around 700 A.D.”
“What stones are these? They look like jade.”

“Good spotting. The eyes were made of rare seashells.”

“And I assume valuable?”

He laughed again. “Right to the crux of the issue. Right, Michael.”

He turned the object over and ran his fingers over the back side of it. “One that apparently goes back as far as this, and belonged to the ruler we have in mind, the right collector will pay half a million. Isn’t that right, Yusuf?”

Yusuf’s grin was beginning to become genuine. “Oh yes. Oh yes. And more, as you would know, Mr. Barnes.”

Wayne swung his legs over the deck-lounge toward me. He sat up and very carefully replaced the wrapping that had covered the mask. He stood up and walked toward the man. “And the key to its value is that it is absolutely authentic.”

Wayne looked down at the grinning eyes of Yusuf for several seconds. I think I let out a yell that came from the pit of my stomach when Wayne hurled the wrapped object over side of the yacht, into the pitch blackness that absorbed it with barely a splash.

I thought that the man would crumble to the deck. He barely held his balance. In the blackness of the night, I couldn’t make out his features, but I know to a certainty that every drop of blood left his face.

Wayne called a uniformed attendant.

Before the man moved, Wayne took hold of his arm. I was almost as frozen to the spot as the man. I think we were both certain that he would be following the object into the blackness below.

Wayne held him close enough to speak directly into his ear, but spoke loudly enough, I’m sure, so that I could hear.

“It’s a fake, Yusuf. I’m sure you know that. But you’ll live to do me a service. You’re a delivery boy. Nothing more. I want you to take a message back to Istanbul. I want you to say just this. ‘You had my trust. I give it sparingly, and not twice. Rest assured, we’ll speak of this again.’ Do you have that Yusuf?”

The man had all he could do to nod.

Wayne signaled his attendant. “Take him back.”

The man was escorted, practically carried toward the back of the vessel. In a few minutes, I could see running lights heading away from the yacht.

Wayne sat back down. “What do you think, Michael? One more Planter’s Punch before dinner?”

I could only smile at the abrupt change of tone and subject.

“No? Then shall we go in to dinner. The chef should be prepared by now.”

When he stood up, I saw that he took something from under his deck-lounge. My mouth sprung open when a glint of light from an opening door of the yacht cabin lit up the death mask. I could see amusement in the smile of my host.

“What on earth did you throw overboard?”

“Oh that. I substituted my lap tray in the wrapping for the desk mask. I’ll keep the mask.”

“But if it’s a fake.”

“It is, but a fake by a well-respected forger of these antiquities. It has enough value for that reason alone to pay the expenses I’ve already incurred in acquiring it. Shall we go to dinner?”

***

Excerpt from Deadly Depths by John F Dobbyn. Copyright 2023 by John F Dobbyn. Reproduced with permission from John F Dobbyn. All rights reserved.

Review by Coffee & Ink

I haven’t read any thrillers in a long time, but I just couldn’t resist the premise and the lovely cover art.

When his beloved mentor’s death is ruled a suicide, Matthew Shane knows the police are wrong and sets out to prove it. Little does he realize how far and how deep his own investigation is going to take him. A small group of reputable archeologists forms the group his mentor was a member of, the Monkey’s Paw. And one of them is a murderer.

This is quite the rollercoaster ride of suspense, hopping from one continent to the next, delving into the complexities of culture and language as he tries to work out the meaning of cryptic clues left in the wake of his mentor’s death. Matthew is an honorable man determined to find out how and why more archeologists are murdered.

Lush and vivid settings, memorable characters and cab rides, hair-raising rescues, and a good scotch at the end of the day keep the pages turning to get to the heart of the mystery, a golden statue of an Aztec god surrounded by curses with deadly consequences.

Very well researched, well plotted novel, hard to put down. Highly recommended for mystery and thrillers fans, as well as historical fiction readers with an interest in archeology.

Author Bio:

Following graduation from Boston Latin School and Harvard College with a major in Latin and Linguistics, three years on active duty as fighter intercept director in the United States Air Force, graduation from Boston College Law School, three years of practice in civil and criminal trial work, and graduation from Harvard Law School with a Master of Laws degree, I began a career as a Professor of Law at Villanova Law School. Twenty-five years ago I began writing mystery/thriller fiction. I have so far had twenty-five short stories published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery magazine, and six mystery thriller novels, the Michael Knight/Lex Devlin series, published by Oceanview Publishing. The second novel, Frame Up, was selected as Foreword Review’s Book of the Year.

Catch Up With John F Dobbyn:
JohnDobbyn.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @JohnFDobbyn
Instagram – #JohnFDobbyn
Twitter – @JohnDobbyn
Facebook – @JohnFDobbynAuthor

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

1.07/24 Guest post @ The Book Divas Reads

2.07/25 Review @ Its All About the Book

3.07/26 Review @ fundinmental

4.07/26 Showcase @ Celticladys Reviews

5.07/28 Podcast reading of the excerpt @ Books to the Ceiling

6.07/28 Showcase @ Books, Ramblings, and Tea

7.07/29 Review @ From the TBR Pile

8.07/31 Showcase @ Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!

9.08/01 Review @ sunny island breezes

10.08/01 Showcase @ BOOK REVIEWS by LINDA MOORE

11.08/02 Podcast interview @ Blog Talk Radio

12.08/02 Review @ Just Reviews

13.08/03 Review @ Avonna Loves Genres

14.08/05 Review @ Book Reviews From an Avid Reader

15.08/06 Showcase @ The Mystery Section

16.08/08 Review @ Boy’s Mom Reads!

17.08/09 Review @ fuonlyknew

18.08/10 Review @ Reading is my Superpower

19.08/14 Review @ Novels Alive

20.08/15 Interview @ Hott Books

21.08/15 Review @ A Room Without Books is Empty

22.08/16 Review @ Urban Book Reviews

23.08/16 Showcase @ Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense

24.08/17 Review @ Coffee and Ink

25.08/18 Showcase @ The Reading Frenzy

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#Review #InTheShadowOfTheBull by Eleanor Kuhns

In the Shadow of the Bull

by Eleanor Kuhns

July 17 – August 11, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Ancient Crete, 1450 BC. In a world of Goddess worship, sacred snakes and sacrifice, human jealousy, resentment, and betrayal still run wild . . .

When her sister Arge drops to the floor in convulsions and dies at her wedding, fifteen-year-old Martis, a young poet and bull leaper in training, is certain she was murdered. The prime suspect is the groom, Saurus, from the Greek mainland, but when Arge’s shade visits Martis, swearing Saurus is not the murderer, Martis vows to uncover the truth.

As Martis begins asking questions, she discovers that while Arge may have had no secrets, many of the people around her certainly do.

Praise for In the Shadow of the Bull:

“This complex, character-driven mystery is loaded with fascinating historical details”
~ Kirkus Reviews

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Mystery
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: July 2023
Number of Pages: 224
ISBN: 9781448310869 (ISBN10: 1448310865)
Series: An Ancient Crete Mystery (#1)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Severn House

Read an excerpt:

Saurus was clad, not in a colorful loincloth, nor in the robe Cretan men wore for certain rituals, but in his leather armor. His wavy black hair spilled over his shoulders, un-oiled. And he carried his weapons, long knives in their scabbards, at his waist. His one attendant, his friend Kabya, stood behind him, dressed in like manner. Gasps of condemnation sounded through the crowd.

‘Does he think he’s going to fight someone,’ Mother said in angry disapproval.

Saurus looked around at the crowd, his eyes narrowed, and then he lifted his chin defiantly. Although I didn’t like him, I recognized his uncertainty. He knew we despised him and his barbarous ways.

When Saurus had first come to the palace, I’d been prepared to accept him. He knew my mother’s brother and had come with news of him. Like my uncle, Saurus was also a trader. At least he said he was, and we welcomed him into the house.

My dislike dated from that first day, before I knew he would take Arge from us. He examined me and my sisters with careless lechery. I’d just come from acrobatics and wore a boy’s loincloth. As his gaze swept over me, I shuddered with a strange prickly hot feeling. And then he dismissed me with a quick, indifferent turn of his head. Then the flush that burned through me was one of anger.

Despite my feelings, and his awkward broken Cretan, he’d quickly charmed all my sisters. And although Mother frequently eyed him with reserve, I saw them laughing together more than once.

At first, he’d spread his easy compliments among all my sisters – though I was invisible to him – but soon he paid more and more attention to Arge. A knot of worry formed on my mother’s forehead.

Several months after Saurus’s arrival, Arge announced she planned to marry him.

There was Arge now, in front of the mound of ash left by previous sacrifices. Against the deep purple of her jacket, her skin looked deathly pale. She’d pressed her mouth into a long thin line. Was she regretting her decision now? I looked up at the sky, so dark the stars spangled the expanse with flecks of silver, and sent another fervent prayer heavenward – ‘Please, Lady of the Animals and of Childbirth, stop this marriage. I will offer you all the honey from my bees.’

The High Priestess with her nine attendants suddenly appeared from the shadows, stepping through the trees into the torchlight. Their eyes sparkled and one of the attendants stumbled. They were drunk on the sacred liquor, a mixture of beer, wine, fermented honey and herbs. The priestesses wore the sacral knot tied at the nape of their necks, above the tight jackets. to show they were in service to Her who gave us life. Some of them wore doves on their heads, live doves tied to the headdress by the feet, for love. Three of the women carried baskets.

Instead of a dove, the High Priestess carried snakes in her headdress, living snakes that coiled as high as they could from the bindings, flicking their tongues and hissing. Snakes to promote fertility in this new marriage.

As the High Priestess approached the altar, a soft moan of anticipation whispered from the crowd. The goats began struggling even harder against their bonds as they caught the scent of the snakes. The Priestess, who did not seem to notice the throng of people standing on the other side of the altar of ash and bone, turned to the first attendant. She took away the lid and removed the large heavy snake from the basket to coil it around her waist. The remaining two baskets yielded additional snakes. Chanting sonorously, she allowed the snakes to twine up her arms.

I could not repress a tremor of remembered fear and my mother glanced at me. Only nine at Opis’s wedding, I’d been so terrified by the snakes that Arge had had to carry me from the ceremony. I looked at Arge now. Her expression was fixed in a grimace of pain.

Suddenly she fell to the floor, writhing in convulsions and spilling bloody vomit from her mouth.

For several seconds no one moved. The Priestess’s chant continued, then lurched to a stop mid-syllable. Pandemonium erupted. Screaming, Mother ran to her daughter and fell to her knees beside her. After a moment of frozen disbelief, Opis and Nuia followed at a run. I couldn’t move. I stared in horror at Arge’s body lying on the stones. What had I done? I’d pleaded with the Goddess to halt the wedding and She had. But why this way? Why kill Arge, the sweetest and most unassuming of all women? Raising my face to the sky, I began to sob. The stars in the sky blurred together into streaks of silver. ‘Why?’ I asked the Goddess. ‘Why?’

This was my fault: the Goddess had answered my prayers.

***

Excerpt from In the Shadow of the Bull by Eleanor Kuhns. Copyright 2023 by Eleanor Kuhns. Reproduced with permission from Eleanor Kuhns. All rights reserved.

Review by Coffee & Ink

What a fantastic novel! I love stories in Ancient settings, and this one is absolutely brimming with period detail—costumes, language, religion, family.

Though Martis wished nothing but the best for her beloved sister about to marry, she can’t help but wish Arge would stay. To her horror, Arge falls down dead right before the marriage ceremony, and she blames her wayward wish. Arge’s spirit compels Martis to find her killer.

As far as the mystery goes, the focus is tight on the surrounding family, making for a compelling read as Martis follows the trail, though it leads to more heartbreak. This is also a coming-of-age story, as the protagonist is a young woman of fifteen, almost of a marriageable age. But she doesn’t want to weave or to marry, as she is training to be a bull dancer. The dream of the dance and the reality of the dance clash, just as her belief and trust in her family does.

Highly recommended for historical mystery readers. Shades of Mary Renault!

Author Bio:

Eleanor Kuhns is the 2011 winner of the Minotaur/Mystery Writers of America first mystery prize for A Simple Murder. That was the first in the Will Rees series. She went on to write ten more.
In the Shadow of the Bull is the first in the Ancient Crete Mystery series.

Catch Up With Eleanor Kuhns:
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Instagram – @edl0829
Twitter – @EleanorKuhns
Facebook – @writerkuhns

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#Review #MurderByLamplight by Patrice McDonough #NetGalley

Pub Date 20 Feb 2024

Description from NetGalley

As a deadly cholera pandemic burns its way through Victorian London in the winter of 1866, a trailblazing female physician and a skeptical Scotland Yard detective reluctantly team up to stop a sadistic killer in this dark, atmospheric, historically rich mystery for readers of Andrea Penrose and Deanna Raynourn.

“Enthralling debut. . . Mystery, pulse‑pounding suspense and a budding romance. More, please!”—Mary Jane Clark, New York Times Bestselling Author

When a vengeful, sadistic killer terrorizes London twenty years before Jack the Ripper will stalk its same streets, an unlikely duo is prompted to investigate: one of Britain’s first female physicians, Dr. Julia Lewis, and Scotland Yard’s Inspector Richard Tennant, a Crimean War veteran with lingering physical and psychological wounds.

November 1866: The grisly murder site in London’s East End is thronged with onlookers. None of them expect the calmly efficient young woman among them to be a medical doctor, arrived to examine the corpse. Inspector Richard Tennant, overseeing the investigation, at first makes no effort to disguise his skepticism. But Dr. Julia Lewis is accustomed to such condescension . . .

To study medicine, Julia had to leave Britain, where universities still bar their doors to women, and travel to America. She returned home to work in her grandfather’s practice—and to find London in the grip of a devastating cholera epidemic. In four years, however, she has seen nothing quite like this—a local clergyman’s body sexually mutilated and displayed in a manner that she—and Tennant—both suspect is personal.

Days later, another body is found with links to the first, and Tennant calls in Dr. Lewis again. The murderer begins sending the police taunting letters and tantalizing clues—though the trail leads in multiple directions, from London’s music halls to its grim workhouses and dank sewers. Lewis and Tennant struggle to understand the killer’s dark obsessions and motivations. But there is new urgency, for the doctor’s role appears to have shifted from expert to target. And this killer is no impulsive monster, but a fiendishly calculating opponent, determined to see his plan through to its terrifying conclusion . . .

Review by Coffee & Ink

Julia Lewis had to travel from London to Philadelphia to obtain her doctor’s license, as there were no medical schools in England teaching women. Her aging grandfather needs help with his practice, and she steps in for him when he is not available. When a dead body is found, she is called in to examine the victim. She has to run the gauntlet of the disbelieving men of the police force and prove herself able to do the job, no matter how messy.

The past haunts these characters, killer, detective, doctor. The mystery is an absorbing and compelling puzzle, with the voice of the killer interspersed. The setting is vivid and extensively researched, so the story comes truly alive.

I can’t seem to get enough Victorian Lady Sleuths to read. There are plenty out there, and Julia is one of my new favorites. I’m really hoping for a sequel or a series. Highly recommended.

Thanks to NetGalley and Kensington Books for allowing me to read and review.

---

Available Editions

EDITION	Hardcover
ISBN	9781496746368
PRICE	$27.00 (USD
PAGES	336

#Review #Missed Cue by Lynn Slaughter

Feminist detective dances with murder and adultery in Christie-style ballerina mystery

Award-winning YA author debuts first adult police procedural

LOUISVILLE, KY – The curtain rises on a  new murder mystery from award-winning author of Deadly Setup and Leisha’s Song. Lynn Slaughter’s Missed Cue (Aug 8, 2023, Melange Books) finds Lieutenant Cailtin O’Connor in a theatrical mess when a prima ballerina fails to awaken during the final act of Romeo and Juliet. With multiple suspects, infidelity, and a twisted plot of romantic entanglements while also dealing with Caitlin’s personal love life, Missed Cue is a fast-paced Agatha Christie-style mystery that twists and turns to the final act.

Winner of multiple awards including the Silver Falchion Book Award, Moonbeam Children’s Book Award, Imadjinn Award and recognized by the Agatha Christie awards and the CIBA awards, Slaughter is no stranger to creating captivating narratives shrouded in mystery. Now she takes her expertise in young adult writing reaching a new audience with her first mystery novel for adults.

When star ballerina Lydia Miseau misses her cue during a performance, Lieutenant Caitlin O’Connor encounters the most complicated case of her career. The autopsy reveals no clear cause of death, so Caitlin must not only figure out who killed the ballerina, but how the killer did it. Her investigation uncovers an intricate web of betrayal, infidelity, and revenge. When the medical examination reveals that Lydia was a few weeks pregnant with a child who could not have been her husband’s, Caitlin discovers painful parallels between Lydia’s life and her own illicit involvement with a married man.

For fans of Lori Robbins’ “On Pointe” Mystery Series and Girl Most Likely by Max Allan Collins, readers will love spinning through Caitlin’s thrilling mystery as she seeks the true murderer and the truth about her own illicit romance.

“Missed Cue”

Lynn Slaughter | August 8, 2023

Melange Books | Police Procedural/murder mystery

Paperback | 979-8-88653-153-4 | $16.99

Ebook | 979-8-88653-154-1  | $5.99

Lynn Slaughter is addicted to chocolate, the arts, and her husband’s cooking. Her family tree is peppered with musicians, and like Caitlin, she’s a huge jazz fan. Music has always made her want to move, and she ended up becoming a professional dancer and dance educator. When injury meant it was time to find a new dream, she earned her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. Her previous young adult novels include: Deadly Setup, published by Fire and Ice/Melange Books, which was a Moonbeam Children’s Book Awards silver medalist, a Chanticleer International Awards finalist, and an Imadjinn Award finalist; Leisha’s Song, also published by Fire and Ice/Melange Books and an Agatha nominee, Moonbeam bronze medalist, Imadjinn Award winner, and Silver Falchion Award winner; It Should Have Been You, a Silver Falchion finalist; and While I Danced, an EPIC finalist. The ridiculously proud mother of two sons and grandmother of five, she lives in Louisville, Kentucky where she is at work on her next novel and is an active member and former president of Derby Rotten Scoundrels, her local Sisters in Crime chapter. She loves hearing from readers and hopes you’ll visit her website, https://lynnslaughter.com

Advanced praise for Missed Cue

“With Missed Cue, author Lynn Slaughter offers a riveting portrait of a female police officer on the trail of a killer and in search of herself.  Watching Lieutenant Caitlin O’Connor unravel the case, as she seeks to better understand her own foibles, and help her alcoholic partner, made for an exciting read full of insight and suspense.”  

Ellen Birkett Morris, Award-winning author of Lost Girls

“Lynn Slaughter’s latest tour de force, the suspense novel MISSED CUE, draws on her extensive background in the field of dance. The story opens in a rehearsal for the ballet Romeo and Juliet, and it is the perfect venue for a terrible crime. Lynn’s seamless storytelling carries the reader right into the action, and she keeps us guessing as we meet all of her colorful and interesting characters. You should definitely pick up this book, but just be warned, you might not want to put it down!”

Connie Bergstein Dow, author of the picture book TAP AND RAP, MOVE AND GROOVE, and other books about dance

“In Missed Cue, the star of the show isn’t the dazzling ballerina Lydia Miseau, but the appealingly flawed police detective who investigates her murder. As Lieutenant Caitlin O’Connor begins the process of sifting through clues and interviewing suspects, she finds herself entangled in a double journey: to uncover both the identity of a killer and her own sense of self. Political scheming in the dance world is mirrored in her complicated relationships within the New Haven police department, and writer Lynn Slaughter renders both with precision and grace. Competing motives of fame, fortune, and family feuds all have their moment in the spotlight, but it’s the backstage intrigue that propels this narrative to its satisfying conclusion. Well written and tightly plotted, Missed Cue is a showstopper.”

                                       Lori Robbins, Award winning author of the On Pointe and Master Class mystery series

“Homicide Detective Caitlin O’Conner has a very full dance card: a murdered ballerina, a tango with a lover and a partner trying to tap dance around his problems. Missed Cue is a compelling story of a tough but vulnerable woman as she navigates her complicated life.”

                                                E.M. Munsch, author of the Dash Hammond series, the latest being A HAUNTING AT MARIANWOOD

“Don’t let the title fool you. Lynn Slaughter doesn’t miss any cues in this gritty mystery featuring a smart, ambitious, and emotionally flawed detective investigating the suspicious death of an otherwise seemingly healthy dancer. Set in the world Slaughter knows well, Missed Cue will keep you on your toes until the curtain drops on the final clue.”

Valerie (V. M.) Burns, Agatha, Anthony, Edgar, and Next Generation Award Finalist

“You’ll be rooting for whip-smart detective Caitlin O’Conner as she searches for the killer of a star ballerina while also trying to untangle a complicated personal life. A stunning debut for the author’s first adult mystery.”

Victoria Thompson, Bestselling author of Murder on Bedford Street

Review from Coffee&Ink

I loved this police procedural that blends the professional and personal lives of the lead detectives so well. The author obviously knows the world of ballet, as stated in her bio, and draws us right in to the setting. I found the story very well balanced between the characters involved in the murder, the investigation, and the characters’ private lives, how it affects them all. The main character, Caitlin, is struggling through some heavy issues, plus having to carry her partner’s load for awhile when he is out of commission. In some novels, this can be distracting from the story, but I thought the author did an excellent job here. The prose is sharp and fresh and pulls the reader along smoothly. I couldn’t guess whodunnit, and the reveal was a satisfying surprise.

Highly recommended for readers of police procedurals and strong but flawed women characters. I hope we’ll see more of Caitlin.

Thank you, Books Forward, for giving me the opportunity to read and review this book.