Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts

Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Secret of the Journal: Rope of Sand by C.F. Dunn (book #3)

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received the book for free from the publisher through the Kregel Publications' book  blogger campaign and I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”


About the Book: (Information taken from the Kregel Publications site)

The third installment of the acclaimed romantic thriller series

This third volume, set in rural Maine’s deep winter, follows the developing relationship between British historian, Emma D’Eresby, and American surgeon, Matthew Lynes. Emma unravels Matthew’s alarming past and begins to comprehend how very different her future might be with a man whose identity must never be revealed.

Emma nervously meets Matthew’s family. She encounters his seventy-year-old son, Henry, and learns how unique the family really is. As Christmas approaches, it is clear that Emma is not welcomed by all: what does Matthew’s great-granddaughter have against her, and what might his sinister psychiatrist granddaughter, Maggie, be prepared to do?

Bound by their faith, Matthew and Emma have accepted that they must wait to be together until his wife dies. Very reluctantly, Emma meets Ellen—an elderly woman with a core of steel—and learns how living with Matthew will mean concealment and lies. How can they have a life together?


Read an Excerpt here!

About the Author: (Information taken from her Goodreads Author Page)
Writing as CF Dunn, I thrive on creating romantic thrillers with a historical twist, drawing on a degree in history and a career in literacy development to write stories that touch on people’s frailty and their unexpected strengths. Everyone has a story to tell, and I explore how the legacy of the past impacts on the present and shapes the future. The question is, can anyone escape their history, and how will it determine the path they choose to take?

My love of Maine and my family's long legacy in the county of Lincolnshire provide a rich heritage and vital elements in the evolving story of The Secret of the Journal series.

Blessed with a historian husband, two creative daughters and a quirky Corgi, I divide my time between running a specialist dyslexia and autism school we founded in Kent, and writing in Cornwall.


Stalk the Author: Website / Twitter / Goodreads / Facebook



Dynamic Uno here: I fell in love with The Secret of the Journal series while reading book #1, Mortal Fire.  The characters had so many facets and intricacies woven into their stories that I became engrossed in learning more and more about their lives, and ultimately, worried about their outcomes.  (Can you say addicted?) 

Somehow I missed the release of book #2, Death Be Not Proud, so I was unaware that the lives of Matthew, Emma, and the others were continuing without me.  Thankfully, I ordered it through Amazon: Death Be Not Proud (The Secret of the Journal)  and started reading it right away so that I could find out what happened after the cliffhanger of Mortal Fire.  (It was just as captivating!) 

I immediately dove into book #3, Rope of Sand, when I finished book #2.  The beginning pages of this book were a recap from the ending of Death Be Not Proud, but some of the details were changed a bit so it threw me for a bit of a loop at first.  However briefly distracted, I was immediately sucked back into the story as Emma celebrated Christmas with Matthew and was introduced to his "extended" family members.

While most of Matthew's family accepted Emma into their fold, there were a few family members who resisted the idea that she would eventually become a permanent fixture within their household. The resentment resulted in a bit of mischief that almost caused Emma to die.  Fortunately, Matthew and his son, Henry, are doctors, so they were able to revive Emma before she was lost to them all.  Tests were run, and it was discovered that Emma had her own special gift of helping others (although you'll have to read the book to find out about her talent).

When classes resume on campus, Emma learns that Professor Staahl is accusing her for his damaged reputation when she gets served with the court papers. Realizing that her nightmare has returned in real life, she grows concerned when she realizes that the only people who really know what happened on the night she was attacked were Staahl, Matthew, and herself--inevitably throwing Matthew in the spotlight, a place he has learned to avoid.

Will Matthew's secret be divulged through the trial?  Will Emma be able to produce evidence that she was not complicit in the attack by Staahl, or will his hidden allies manage to set him free?  All these and questions and more will be answered by reading Rope of Sand.

I enjoyed reading this installment of The Secret of the Journal series because we finally met characters we had only been introduced to briefly and were able to see how they interacted with one another.  I felt that this book was a bit heavy and drawn-out with the court case thrown in because it wreaked havoc on everyone's lives, but it did bring more of the "family secrets" to life and caused Emma and Matthew's family to claim "sides."  

I was a bit disappointed because I had hoped we would see a wedding  and get the "happily ever after" ending that I so want to see for Matthew and Emma, but this was not the case at this point in their lives.  Guess I'll have to wait for the penultimate book #4, Realm of Darkness, to be released.  (Yay!  More Matthew and Emma!!)

If you enjoy suspense, mystery, intrigue, and history, you'll love this series--although you MUST start at the beginning or you'll have no idea of what's happening and why certain details and story-lines are so important.  

Purchase the Book here: Kregel Publications 

Let me know what you think and Happy Reading!
  


Friday, December 13, 2013

The Advent of Murder (A Faith Morgan Mystery) by Martha Ockley


 Disclosure of Material Connection: I received the book for free from the publisher through the Kregel Blog Tour Service book  blogger campaign. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

 
Author: Martha Ockley/ Rebecca Jenkins


Format: trade paperback
 
Genre: Christian, Mystery, and Suspense

Source:  Kregel Blog Tour Service book blogger campaign 

Published: Lion Fiction / $14.95 / 2013 / ISBN:978-1-78264-006-6

Buy the Book: Kregel Publications / Lion Hudson / Amazon


Stalk the Author: Facebook / Twitter / Blog / Pinterest


Synopsis of Book (as posted on the Kregel Publications website):  

Faith Morgan, former policewoman and vicar of the small English village of Little Worthy, goes to visit one of her parishioners at his farm, only to discover the house surrounded by police cars. A body has been found in the local river and farmer Markham is charged with murder.
Though busy with preparations for Christmas, Faith is called on to investigate when it’s found out that the victim is also a member of her congregation—Lucas Kemp, a member of the choir.
Faith’s informal inquiries lead her to uncover a hotbed of tensions and romantic rivalries in the choir, questions about drugs, and a run-in with an unsavory uncle—which leads to a dramatic rescue by Ben, Faith’s former detective partner and ex-boyfriend.

Read an Excerpt: The Advent of Murder


Why I Read this Book:  I enjoyed reading A Reluctant Detective, the first of the Faith Morgan Mysteries, and figured this would be a great follow-up.
 
 
What I Liked:  I love the fact that Faith does not put on pretenses with her parishioners and admits her flaws for the most part.  It's nice to know that a member of the clergy has some of the same types of thoughts and actions that I have from time to time.  (Even if they're not very nice.)  I also liked the fact that more of Faith's family showed up in this book and that friendships were strengthened through the circumstances in the book.
  

What I Didn't Like:  As this is the British version of the book, it took me a little bit to get the rhythm of the book and I had to really think because the British spelling and vocabulary were used as well.  (i.e., tire = tyre).  

While those are not really detractors for me, I was surprised when the "B" word showed up.  Granted the character was talking about a female dog, but as Americans we do not normally see this word written in Christian fiction.  

Another distractor for me was the fact that as a non-Catholic Christian, I am unfamiliar with some of the abbreviations (MP..?) so I wasn't quite sure if I grasped the whole context of some of the situations in the story.
 
Overall Impression:  Aside from these little blips, I really enjoyed the journey back to Little Worthy.  It was almost as if I had returned to treasured place after a long separation and I was able to slide back into the routine of Faith's hectic life as a vicar.  If you enjoy reading mysteries with a bit of suspense and British quirks, then The Advent of Murder is the book for you!
 

Rating: 4 out of 5


Let me know what you think!  Happy Reading! 

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Strand of Deception by Robin Caroll

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

B&H Books (March 1, 2013)

***Special thanks to Laurel Teague for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Robin Caroll has authored twelve previous books including the Holt Medallion Award of Merit winner, Deliver Us From Evil. She gives back to the writing community by serving as Conference Director for American Christian Fiction Writers. When she isn’t writing, Robin spends time with her husband of twenty-plus years, her three beautiful daughters and two handsome grandsons, and their character-filled pets at home—in the South, where else?




Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:


When Gina Ford, the daughter of a prominent Tennessee politician, goes missing from the University of Memphis a week after another girl was murdered on the same campus, police call in the FBI. Nick Hagar, married to his job as Special Agent in Charge, is assigned to the case, and when Gina’s body is found, her father demands justice.

Maddie Baxter is the forensic expert running DNA tests from the crime scene. When they come back without a match, Nick asks her to do a familial DNA run that yields a shocking result: the prime suspect is Adam Alexander, the very same guy who broke Maddie’s heart when she was in college.

But do scientific advancements tell the whole story? Strand of Deception offers romance, suspense, and a lively debate about the impact of DNA testing, for better or worse, on the United States justice system.



Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: B&H Books (March 1, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1433672146
ISBN-13: 978-1433672149



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Prologue



The stack of photographs slipped to the floor, splaying across the wood planks like wildflowers over a grassy meadow. Her hands trembled as tears flowed down her cheeks.



This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.



Yet the pictures proved otherwise. This was real, very real.



Her knees weakened. She slumped into the leather chair behind the desk. Even the familiar whoosh couldn’t comfort her now. The proof of his betrayal assaulted her. On the floor. On the desk. In her hand.



Photographs of him in another woman’s arms. How could he do this to them, his family?

To her? Surely he knew this would destroy them, but he cheated anyway. She didn’t understand. Did they mean so little to him?



Her heart ached in a way she never thought possible. Like someone shredded her insides. Another sob escaped her clenched lips. It bounced off the walls and rattled her ears. She never imagined betrayal like this would hurt so badly. So deeply.



She held her head in her hands, her elbows digging into the unyielding wood of the desk. Her lungs fought to push air in and out. Her legs wouldn’t stop quaking.

The morning sun beat past the curtains and flooded the loft with light. How dare such a symbol of joy invade when her entire life had just been destroyed?



Swallowing against a dry mouth, she bit her bottom lip and stared at the photographs. All of a sudden, she felt physically ill. This would destroy not only their family, but his career. His future. Was that why the pictures were taken?



Her heart slammed against her ribs as another thought raced through her mind . . . Why were the pictures here? Everything in her didn’t want to believe what stared her right in the face. But there was no other explanation. The photos were here . . . for what? Money?



A favor?



Blackmail?



Bile burned the back of her throat. This was all wrong. Everything.



Her mind struggled to comprehend. She’d let him into the family. Trusted him. Thought she loved him and he loved her. Apparently, she was wrong.



Dead wrong.



The pictures mocked her from all sides. This was her fault. She didn’t have a choice now—she’d have to confront him and hear his excuse, not that she’d believe any lie he told. She’d destroy the photographs, all of them, and demand the negatives. Then she’d shut him out of their lives forever, even though it would kill her.



Her legs barely supported the weight of her decision as she ran for the bathroom.





Chapter One



“Adversity is sometimes hard upon a man; but for one man who can stand prosperity, there are a hundred
that will stand adversity.”
 - Elvis Presley



Two Weeks Ago



“We call Ms. Madeline Baxter to the stand.” Maddie wiped her hands on her skirt and stood. She’d testified at various trials over the years, but never one like this. Only a handful of people sat in the stuffy courtroom, the heat turned too high. She took the oath to tell the truth amid little fanfare before taking her seat in the witness stand.




She glanced over the few people sitting on the very hard, very uncomfortable pews. The judge had closed the hearing to the media, but the hounds waited just outside the oversized doors of the Shelby County Courthouse. Those allowed inside were legal figures, police, family members, and of course, the defendant.



“Ms. Baxter, will you please state your name and occupation for the court record?”
1



She leaned forward to the microphone. “Madeline Baxter. I’m a forensic scientist specializing in serology and DNA.”



“And you are currently employed by the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, correct?”



Maddie licked her lips. “In the Forensic Services Division, yes.”



The defense attorney shuffled through pages on the legal pad he held. “Can you tell us a little about your professional back- ground and qualifications, Ms. Baxter?”



Standard questions, but for the first time in her career, she felt like she was in the hot seat. “I hold a bachelor’s degree in chemistry, as well as one in forensic science from the University of Tennessee. I graduated magna cum laude ten years ago and have been working for the TBI ever since. As such, I am a commissioned law-enforcement officer.”



“Would you be described as an expert in your field, Ms. Baxter?”



They always asked the same question, just worded in various ways. Getting it on the record. “Yes.”



“And the lab where you conduct your tests . . . is it accredited?”



“The TBI forensic lab is accredited by the American Society of Crime Laboratory Directors/Laboratory Accreditation Board.”



“Good.” The lawyer paused for effect, Maddie was sure, returning to the table where the defendant sat, back straight and shoulders squared. “Now, Ms. Baxter, I’d like to direct you to a recent DNA test you conducted at the request of my office, regarding the defendant, Mr. Mark Hubble.”



And here we go. Maddie licked her lips again. “Yes.” “You recall performing this test?”




“Yes.”




“Can you give the court a brief overview for the record?”


“Our lab was supplied a saliva sample taken nine years ago from a crime scene involving a sexual assault. The sample was well preserved. I initially made tests, presumptive tests, for the presence of blood, which is orthotolidine. I utilized hydrogen peroxide as the tests reagents. I conducted testing for acid phosphatase, testing for P30 protein and for amylase, which is an enzyme found in saliva in high concentrations.”



“Go on.” The attorney nodded, as if he understood every- thing she said. He didn’t. Most people didn’t. All they wanted to know was what she would testify to next.



“We were also supplied, by the Shelby County Sheriff’s Office, a saliva sample of the defendant.”



“And you ran these same tests on that sample?”




“I did.”




The lawyer paced slowly in front of the courtroom, paused, then moved beside her. “And you compared the two results?”



“Yes.”



“And what was your conclusion?”



Maddie sat up straighter. “That Mr. Hubble is excluded as a match for the saliva sample.”



The attorney smiled as he faced her. “So, in your expert opinion, Ms. Baxter, the tests you ran on the samples concluded the samples were from a different person, right?”



She nodded, then remembered she was in court. “Yes.”




“Are you positive?”
“Yes. Science doesn’t lie.”




The defense attorney smiled broadly. “Thank you, Ms. Baxter.” He grinned at the judge. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”



The judge glanced at the opposing table. The prosecutor jumped to his feet. “We have no questions, Your Honor.”



“You may step down.” The judge excused her.



She marched from the witness stand, catching the defendant’s stare as she did. His eyes were dark, lifeless as he stared through her. A chill settled over her as she rushed past him.



The victim had stood in court, faced the man, and testified that Mark Hubble had sexually assaulted her. He’d been found guilty and sentenced to fifteen years. He’d served six already when his appellant lawyer discovered the saliva sample sitting in evidence and the order for DNA testing came through.



Looking at him now, Maddie’s stomach knotted. He gave her the creeps, but DNA didn’t lie. She had run the tests twice and gone over the results multiple times, twice with the head of the crime lab. The samples weren’t from the same person—she was 100 percent positive of that fact. She stood behind the science over eyewitness testimony. How had the victim identified the wrong man?



Within moments, the judge had overturned the conviction and set Mr. Mark Hubble free with the court’s humble apology. Right . . . Maddie could see the defense attorney’s eyes shining with visions of dollar signs as he would prepare a civil suit for wrongful incarceration and try to get rich off sensationalizing this case. The media would grab hold of the details like pit bulls, locking their jaws on the story and not letting loose until the next big one surfaced.



Maddie shoved open the courtroom door and ducked behind the marshal as he held up his hands to ward off the vultures waiting in the hall. Flashes snapped.



She rushed down the hall, trying to ignore the reporters tailing her. Turning, she let the music soothe her as it had for years. “If you’re looking for trouble—”



“Ms. Baxter, is it true Hubble’s DNA wasn’t a match to the saliva sample?” Yes. She kept walking at a fast clip. Daa-da-da- da-da.


“Is it possible your lab contaminated the samples?” No. “You came to the right place.”



Gritting her teeth to stop the retort on the tip of her tongue, Maddie stomped toward the exit. While most of the media stayed behind at the courtroom to hound Mark Hubble, a few industrious reporters dogged her heels.



“Ms. Baxter, a statement, please?”




No way. Daa-da-da-da-da.




“How do you feel about your results freeing a man?”




If only the man didn’t give her the creeps . . . if only she could believe he was innocent.




“What would you say to Mark Hubble’s victim right now?” Maddie stumbled at the last question. How did she feel toward the victim? The woman had to have mistakenly identified Hubble, right? But how would she feel when she heard the news that Hubble was free?



Dear God, please be with that poor woman. Wrap her in Your arms and comfort her in the way only You can.



Maddie regained her footing and broke free out the doors. She paused, gulping in the cool February air. The midday sun shot through the sky but didn’t offer much heat against the breeze. She rushed down the stairs to the street corner, then turned back to the courthouse.



Her sword at her side, the statue of Lady Justice with her blindfold permanently in place stared back at Maddie. The marble she was carved from as cold as Maddie’s heart.

Science didn’t lie.





Present Day, Friday



“Sir, is it possible your daughter might have stayed the night at a friend’s and just overslept today?” Special Agent in Charge Nick Hagar peered into the man’s face, gauging even the slightest nuance for possible deception.



“No, it’s not.” The man’s stance tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing.



Nick sighed. Missing children were the worst cases—parents distraught, scared, and rightly so, no matter the child’s age. The enormous emotional toll on parents when they didn’t know what happened to their child . . . he knew all too well what that looked like. Memphis kept her secrets—always had, always would.



“Gina is well aware of the immediate consequences if she misses a check-in.” Les Ford’s public expression usually hid well his fifty-nine years. Today, every year weighted the lines of his ebony face. His tensed shoulders seemed out of place against the smooth lines in the formal living room. “Especially in light of that girl last week.”



“I understand that, sir, and I mean no disrespect. I must ask these hard questions to find your daughter. If there’s even a remote chance she’s merely out of touch . . .”



Despite her father’s prominent position, Gina Ford was a college student. One who could’ve stayed at a party and crashed with a friend. Or stayed somewhere she didn’t want her father to know about. Several other reasons she was just out of touch. So far, nothing indicated she’d been taken hostage to manipulate her father or she was a victim of foul play. Nick made brief eye contact with Darren, motioning him over to the couch.



The distraught father ran a trembling hand over the top of his head. The ends of his closely cropped black hair were tipped with white. “I apologize, Agent Hagar.” He let out a long, slow breath. “Call it a gut feeling or father’s intuition, whatever, but my daughter’s in trouble.”



“Okay, let’s back up. I know you’ve already told the police everything, but I’m going to ask you to tell me so I have all the details.” Nick sat forward on the high-back chair, taking in every movement, nuance, and gesture Les Ford made. “This is Agent Timmons, who’ll be taking notes for our investigation.”



Nodding at Darren, Ford flexed, then relaxed his fingers dangling in front of him. “Last night, Gina had study group and didn’t plan to get home until after midnight.”



“Do you know the names of those in her study group?” Darren asked, pen poised over his notebook.



“Rebecca Dragon, Cynthia Mantle, Lisa Trainer, and Rachel Boxer. But Rachel wasn’t feeling well last night so she called to tell them she wouldn’t be able to join them.” Gina’s father shot Darren a look that indicated he knew everything about his daughter’s life. Or thought he did. He turned his piercing black eyes to Nick. “The group usually meets every Thursday evening in the McWherter Library from eight until eleven, then they go out for pizza at Garibaldi’s.”



Darren scribbled while Ford continued. “Last night, Gina returned to her room early. She told me she didn’t feel like pizza and had some stuff to do before her workout in the morning. So she planned on going to bed as soon as we hung up. That was at eleven fifteen last night. I haven’t heard from her since.” His voice cracked.



Nick waited, understanding the father needed a moment to recompose. Nick cleared his throat. “What time did you realize she was out of contact?”



“Ten thirty this morning. She always calls when she arrives at the university’s fitness center, and we walk half an hour on the treadmill together every weekday.”



Nick glanced at his watch—closer to one than noon. The silent ticking of every second falling off the clock skidded down his spine. “And when she didn’t call?”



“I called her cell. It went straight to voice mail. I called her room. No answer. I went to her apartment. She wasn’t there, but I saw evidence that she’d slept there last night.”



“You have a key to your daughter’s place?” Darren asked.



Ford shot him a look full of disdain. “I’m her father. Of course I have a key to her apartment.” He pushed to his feet and dug out a key ring from his front pocket. His hands trembled as he pulled a single key off the ring and passed it to Nick. “Here’s her key. Her car wasn’t there.”



This was feeling less and less like a kidnapping and more and more like . . . what? Nick swallowed the sigh and stood, staring out the expansive window overlooking a private garden. “And your wife? Is it safe to assume she has no idea where your daughter could be?”



“Mrs. Ford hasn’t heard from Gina. Of course, she is extremely upset at the moment. I ordered her to take a sedative to calm her nerves and to lie down for a bit.” He gave a slight shrug. “She had a minor medical procedure performed a few days ago and needs her rest.”



Oh, yeah, Nick understood all right. He’d seen video clips of Jennifer Ford on the news recently, leaving the dermatologist’s office. Rumors floated around that she’d had some lightening done. Without intent, his gaze settled on the framed photos adorning the marble mantle. Jennifer’s skin looked like smooth mocha as she smiled at the camera.



Nick stopped at the photograph of Gina. “May I?” He pointed at the frame and raised a single brow to Ford.



“Certainly.” Ford nodded. “That was taken a few months ago.”



The girl was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Her skin was even lighter than her mother’s, her chocolate eyes wide, but not as wide as her smile showing off perfectly straight and white teeth. There was a freshness to her face . . . a reflection of genuine passion for life. Nick’s chest tightened at the mere word—passion. How long had it been since he’d felt passionate about much of anything?



He shook off his thoughts and directed his attention to Gina’s father. “Did she mention what stuff she needed to do this morning before her workout?”



Ford shook his head. “I assumed it had to do with schoolwork.”



Nick sat back on the chair. “We’ll get her schedule later. Right now, tell me about Gina. What are her interests? Hobbies? Special people in her life?”



Ford’s eyes glistened as his voice warbled uncharacteristically.



“Gina is kind and loving, a wonderful daughter and person.” He cleared his throat, staring off into space. “She loves the ballet and art. Takes after her mother that way.” A gentle smile was affixed on his face and he swallowed hard. For a moment, Nick forgot who the man was and saw only a scared father.



The Tennessee afternoon sun settled over the garden just on the other side of the wall. Various flowers extended and poised toward the warmth of the rays against the February chill. A gust shoved against stems, swaying them.



“Gina is an excellent student. Takes pride in her work. All of her professors tout how much they enjoy her being in their class.”



Which could just be lip service to an important man, who happens to sit on the University of Memphis’s board.




“She’s active in various community-volunteer positions, mainly through my office. My assistant can give you a list of them.”



Nick nodded. “What about the people she spends the most time with?”




“Gina’s best friend is Cynthia Mantle. They’ve been close since high school. They were on the dance squad together back then.”



They’re also in the same study group. Nick would definitely speak with Ms. Mantle.



Darren tapped against the notebook. “What about a boyfriend?”



The senator frowned. “Gina understands it’s not prudent to become serious with anyone while she’s so young.”



Surely Ford didn’t believe his daughter didn’t date.



“She has, however, begun seeing a young man. A David Tiddle.”



Nick leaned forward again. “I mean no disrespect, sir, but I’m sure you’ve had him checked out, so I’d like to see your report, if I might.”



Ford stared down his nose. “She’s not serious about him. He’s only been to the house a couple of times for dinner.” He shrugged. “Seems like a nice enough young man.”



And Nick would just bet Ford had a nice, fat dossier on Tiddle. “Sir, I’m not judging you or your family, but anything you can provide will help us to find your daughter.”



Ford stood and moved to the desk in the corner of the room. He opened a drawer and withdrew a thin manila envelope he passed to Nick. “That’s all the initial query gathered. I haven’t authorized more digging. Hadn’t planned on it unless Gina felt like the relationship was turning exclusive.”



Nick slipped the file under his arm and stood. “Thank you. One last thing . . . can you think of anyone who would want to harm your daughter?”



“Considering my position? I have many enemies, Agent.” “Anybody in particular recently?”




“Let me get you a list of those on our current threat-watch.”



Interesting they had to keep a current list. Nick paused at the door while Ford returned to the desk. Nick turned to Darren.



“I’m going to question Ms. Mantle. You check out the other members of the study group. And pull Gina’s phone records.”


Darren nodded as Ford returned and passed a piece of paper to Darren.



Nick moved to the hallway and addressed the senator. “Is there anything else you can think of? Even if it’s remote and seems unimportant at the moment?”



Ford’s fear flickered across his face. “Please, find my daughter.”



Chest tightening, Nick nodded. “I’ll do my best, Senator.”



Dynamic Uno here:  As many of you know, I am a HUGE mystery/suspense fan, so when it's combined with a touch of romance, well...let's just say it's a match made in heaven! 

Strand of Deception hooked me from the beginning and didn't let go until the very end.  Deceit.  Betrayal. Blackmail. And Love.  All were features in this third installment of the Justice Seekers series.  (As a side note, this book read very well as a stand-alone book.  Characters from the first two books popped in and out, but did not detract from the story whatsoever.)

Murder and mayhem are two other words that come to mind to describe this storyline.  Maddie is a forensic scientist at the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.  She gets called in to analyze a crime scene involving a very high profile public figure.  Nick is the Special Agent in Charge of the case, and Maddie's brother's former boss in the FBI.  Maddie and Nick must work together to solve this crime before it's too late.  Too bad they went out on a date before all of this mess and haven't talked since.  Now they must work together and reconcile their feelings.  Can they manage or will it cost them the case?

If you're even a closet fan of crime shows or even a Nancy Drew fan, you'll love this book!  I truly didn't want to put it down, it was that engrossing. (Pretty sad when my doctor has to ask me several times to put the book away before she'll see me.)  There's even a touch of romance, which is always nice for those of us who are romantics at heart.  (What can I say--I live vicariously through fictional characters.  Yes, I wear my hair in a bun.  Yes, I own a cat.  Yes, I'm a librarian.  It's all good.)  

I placed the first two books in the series (Injustice for All and To Write a Wrong) on my wish list because I want to read the back stories of Maddie's brother and sister.  I can't wait to find out more about this interesting family of siblings.

Don't just take my word for it-buy the books and let me know what you think!  Happy Reading!




Monday, September 17, 2012

The Secret of the Journal: Mortal Fire by C.F. Dunn



Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the Kregel Blog Tour Service book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Title:  The Secret of the Journal series, Book #1: Mortal Fire

Author: C. F. Dunn



Format: trade paperback

Genre: Christian, Suspense, Thriller, Touch of Romance

Source: Kregel Book Blog Tour Service

Published: USA: Kregel Publications / August 2012/ ISBN: 978-0-5-85721-202-3


Buy the Book:
U.S.: Kregel Publications / AmazonBarnes & Noble / Overstock / Christianbook
UK:  Amazon / Book Depository / Overstock / Sainsburys / WH Smith / Waterstones

Find the Author Online: Twitter / Facebook / Blog



Want to Read an Excerpt?

Why I Read this Book:  Many people are unaware of my fascination with history.  After all, I chose to major in literature instead of delving in to the world of the past.  (That's a story for another day.)  In any case, when I first saw Kregel advertising the book tour for Mortal Fire, I knew I was going to be in love, just from reading the brief synopsis.  A book combining history, a good mystery, and literature ...put the phone on silence and bring on the tea!

What I Liked:  Knowing that C.F. Dunn is "across the pond," I figured British spelling and vocabulary would be used throughout the book.  I was not disappointed.  For those of you wondering if it detracts from the story, please know that it does not.  In fact, as Emma is from the UK, it lends an air of authenticity to the story.

When we come across a traffic accident with a fatality within the first few pages, I wasn't sure what to expect.  After all, I was just being introduced to the characters and I didn't really know their motives yet.  Reading on, I found myself being sucked into the story as Emma, being a stranger in a strange land, found her way amongst the academia and was introduced to new friends and some unsavory characters on staff. 

I enjoyed getting to know her colleagues and students (from Emma's perspective) and enjoyed the conversations about Emma concentration of history and how it has shaped her beliefs.  I even enjoyed the anticipation of a blossoming relationship that held immense mystery.  But as a librarian, I doubly enjoyed Emma's trips into the land of literature to find the journal she so intensely wanted to understand.  I even understood her actions with the journal, but was disappointed that she was stopped so violently from learning its secrets.

The characters are complex and multi-faceted.  Just as I thought I understood what they were thinking, something would crop up and completely change the direction of my own thinking.  (Isn't this true of us as living humans as well?)  I'm completely engrossed in the story and want to know what happens next.  No, I need to know what happens.  Does Emma discover the mysteries surrounding her recent relationship?  How will she react to the truth that she so desperately wants to uncover?  And what will the secrets in the journal reveal about her own and others' pasts?

What I Didn't Like:  The ending.  No, seriously.  I don't want to say too much to give away the story, but I was aggravated at the ending, only because I don't have book #2 : Death Be Not Proud in hand to continue reading.  We're left at a cliff hanger and I'm dying to know whether my theories are correct in what's happening in the plot.  I'm attached to the characters and I want to make sure they're okay.  That, and I think I'm in love with Matthew too.  Hurry up with releasing Book #2 PLEASE....

Overall Impression:  Fabulous work!  You will not be disappointed if you pick up this book (series).  Make sure o carve out some time to read it because you will not want to put it down.  Yes--it's that enthralling!

Rating:  5 out of 5 


Let me know what you think!  Happy Reading!

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Reluctant Detective by Martha Ockley

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:


The Reluctant Detective

Monarch Books (March 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Cat Hoort and Noelle Pedersen of Kregel Publications for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:



Martha Ockley lives in the North-East of England and has close links with the church, having grown up as the daughter of a minister. She is a full-time author, writing both fiction and non-fiction.


Visit the author's website.


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Faith Morgan has lived her whole life in Birmingham. Her two careers, first as a policewoman, then as an inner-city parish minister have kept her close to her family, but also painfully close to her past. Now the picturesque country village of Little Worthy needs a new vicar. But Faith’s g trip to Little Worthy to consider if this is God’s will becomes a long-term commitment when the current vicar falls over dead during a communion service.

Faith suspects murder. And when the police are called in, Faith’s past follows her to Little Worthy in the shape of former partner and former boyfriend, Detective Inspector Ben Shorter.

Ben never understood her calling , but he will need her help if he is going to solve this. How will Faith balance her present calling with her past training, and her feelings for Ben? And is Faith in danger herself?



Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Monarch Books (March 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1854249851
ISBN-13: 978-1854249852

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


“You know I don’t like to complain.” Pat Montesque screwed up her soft cheeks into a fierce smile. “But I’ll tell you, Elsie, I was a tad put out. I’ve always done the altar arrangements – since before Vicar Alistair came. You need a good substantial block of colour and there she was putting up a great waxy lily and a couple of twigs. Striking simplicity! I ask you!”

Elsie Lively tut-tutted sympathetically. She was looking at her dear Arthur’s grave: probably thinking it needed a bit of a tidy, thought Pat. But then it was so difficult to get down on your knees at her age and well nigh impossible to get back up.

“Naturally I pointed out it wouldn’t do – not in that space. Who’s going to notice a single lily? The altar would be as good as bare. He said it was a misunderstanding. She’d only meant to help. Men!” She philosophized aloud. “What they don’t know about women! And as for men of the cloth…”

“Charitable.”

“What did you say, dear? Didn’t quite catch that.” Pat leaned down to the small, bent woman at her side with all the gracious condescension of a church officer to a valued lay member.

“Charitable – man of the cloth; a good thing.”

Dear Elsie. Always stating the obvious.

Pat was distracted. A stranger was getting out of a little blue car by the gate. It was one of those snub-nosed Japanese things they were forever advertising on the commercial channels.

“Now, who’s that?”

The newcomer was a young woman in her early thirties with glossy brown shoulder-length hair and a healthy outdoor tan. She was dressed in a crisp fifties-looking cotton shirt dress in dove grey. As she turned, the sun caught a discreet cross pinned to her lapel. The churchwarden’s nose twitched. It couldn’t be! The bishop wouldn’t do that to them – would he?

Faith Morgan looked down the path from the wicket gate. A couple of elderly ladies were standing by an evergreen bush, cataloguing her from head to foot. This was supposed to be a low-key visit – she was only investigating options, she told herself. It might lead to nothing but still, it wouldn’t do to get off on the wrong foot with the locals.

The parish church of St James’s in Little Worthy rose sturdy and enduring with its sunlit graveyard at its feet. According to the guidebooks, stones in the tower had been part of a church here since Saxon times. Faith felt a wash of pleasure and peace. This place of worship had served its community for nearly a thousand years. There could hardly be a greater contrast to the gritty, uncertain, challenging chaos of the urban parish she was thinking of leaving. A pang of guilt interrupted her moment of euphoria. The face of her mentor, Canon Jonathan, came to mind, fixing her with one of his wry looks. His tart comment echoed in her head: Little Worthy, Faith? A congregation of eight – if you’re lucky – with an average age of seventy; a fund-raising nightmare to crush the heart of a saint!

Her eyes searched the roof line. Bound to be Grade I listed. Maintaining Saxon masonry couldn’t be cheap. It all seemed in good shape. Besides, there were always the heritage funds…

The bells began another peal, and the whiff of vanilla from a nearby shrub struck her with a breath of nostalgia. She had been here more than once as a child with Ruth and Dad on his bell-ringing outings. Those convivial summer Sundays with the dads and their kids and the occasional mother. After church they would go to the pub across the green – still called The Hare and Hounds, she noted happily. The dads would take off their ties and swap stories while she and Ruth sat outside with their lime shandies on benches of sun-warmed wood. You can never go back, she mused, so what was she doing back here?

She rallied. There was nothing wrong with peaceful continuity. Decency deserved to be cherished too.

There was a little time yet before the service began. Faith avoided the main approach and followed a gravel path around the back of the church. A creamy cloud of ivory clematis cascaded over a grey stone wall. Beyond, a solitary pony raised its chestnut head to gaze mournfully at her from a field of weeds. Some way off squatted a group of ramshackle farm buildings.

There was a well-worn track leading from the vestry door. Through a clump of limes she glimpsed the corner of what she thought must be the vicarage.

A dark-haired young man in jeans and a rumpled striped shirt strode out of the church. He had an angular face and the coltish appearance of not having quite grown into his bones. Behind him, a distinguished-looking fifty-something clergyman in surplice and cassock filled the doorway. That must be the incumbent, Alistair Ingram, thought Faith, wondering if she should introduce herself. He called out to the retreating youth, who turned back briefly to make a dismissive pushing gesture with both hands. She was about to step forward when she registered the youth’s expression: disdain, fury, and something else. Triumph? Faith turned away, embarrassed. It felt like a private matter; she shouldn’t be spying. She retraced her steps and entered the church.

The transition from sunlight to cool interior blinded her briefly. In a pool of clarity, Faith saw a service sheet held out in a meaty hand. It belonged to a cheery-looking man in a red waistcoat and a moss-green tweed jacket. He was smiling at her as if they knew one another.

“Fred Partridge,” he pronounced in a carrying voice. “Churchwarden. Pleased to have you with us.” He winked conspiratorially as he turned to greet a couple coming in behind her.

Faith slid into an unoccupied pew. There were twenty or so worshippers scattered about. Not a bad turnout for a small country church on the fifth Sunday in Lent. Her eyes settled on the little bent woman who had been outside as she arrived. She was arranging her hymnal and prayer book on the shelf before her with delicate, twisted hands. Her fine silver hair was folded into a thin bun secured by a network of old-fashioned two-pronged pins.

A presence blocked the light from the door. The formidable-looking lady who had been sizing her up as she arrived was standing in the aisle looking at her with speculating grey eyes. She was solid, with a healthy complexion, probably in her late sixties or early seventies, dressed in what Faith’s mother would refer to as “good clothes”.

“You’ve met my fellow churchwarden, I see,” she said. She had a round face and a hint of Morningside gentility in her voice. “I’m Patricia Montesque, the other one,” she stated brusquely.

Faith gave her best smile and held out her hand to have it clasped briefly in paper-dry fingers.

“I’m pleased to meet you. Faith Morgan. I’m visiting for the weekend – my sister lives locally. I have fond memories of Little Worthy. We used to come here when I was a child.”

“So you like our little church?”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Faith responded warmly. “So well proportioned, and a lovely, comfortable feel about it.”

They contemplated the nave together.

“That’s a striking arrangement,” Faith remarked, indicating the display of lilacs and ivory viburnum by the altar. It was a deliberate ploy. Pat Montesque seemed the kind who was almost certain to do the flower arrangements. She was right. The churchwarden’s face relaxed into a narrow smile.

“Not one of my best, I’m afraid. I was rather rushed. But lilacs do give a lovely block of colour.” She inclined her perfectly coiffed head in a faintly regal manner. “So you’ve family in the area, then?”

“I was born in Winchester…”

“Winchester! Barely twenty minutes away. You’re almost a native.”

“Almost.”

“I’m just a newcomer, of course – hardly been here twenty years!” Pat Montesque gave a hard little laugh. “Not like dear Elsie Lively there.” She nodded in the direction of the silver-haired lady with the bun. “She’s Little Worthy born and bred. Ran the post office for half a century. A close-knit lot, the old families – but we have a very friendly parish here,” she ended firmly.

Faith remembered the post office. They had sold old-fashioned sweets: shell-shaped sherbets and Parma violets. She could almost smell the sugar. Ruth always chose liquorice; not because she particularly liked the taste, but for the way it stained her tongue black.

“So you haven’t met our vicar, Alistair?”

Faith was surprised by the challenge. Pat flicked a significant look at the cross pinned to her dress. So I’ve been rumbled, Faith thought.

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” she said.

“He’s a good pastor. A bit of a liberal, some thought when he first came, but he’s sound enough in the essentials. And very good with the finances.” Pat paused. “He’s leaving us, you know.”

“I had heard something of the kind,” murmured Faith. To think she had meant to slip in and out with being noticed. She should have known better. Rural parishes always had a Pat Montesque.

“Mmm. A bit of a dicky heart. He looks wonderfully well, but…” Her tone implied something more.

A petite woman with smooth, long fair hair, wearing a simple cotton dress came out of the vestry.

“…decided to take early retirement,” continued Pat.

The blonde had striking long-lashed blue eyes and a neat-featured prettiness that retained an element of youthful innocence, although she might have turned forty – it was hard to tell. She saw the churchwarden looking at her, and gave a little girl lost smile before leaning over a pew to exchange greetings with a young mother trying to hold a squirming toddler in her lap.

Pat turned back to Faith apparently as an afterthought. “You’ll be staying for coffee after the service?” Without waiting for a response, she was gone.

Could this place feel like home? Could these people ever be her people?

Faith studied the faces around her – silver-haired Elsie; the doting mother shadowing her small determined son as he ventured out down the aisle; the ruddy-faced man with the jacket too short in the sleeve, who couldn’t be anything else but an English farmer; a single black family with mother and father and a boy and a girl dressed in smart Sunday clothes. Faith’s eyes drifted up into the barrelled roof. There was such comfortable familiarity about the space. Why should that make her feel guilty?

Guilt. Purpose. Being of use. From the very first, Faith had always known that she wanted to be part of some greater purpose. That desire had led her into the police force. And, for a while, she thought she had found her place: to serve and protect; to bring the guilty to account; to protect the weak. That was what had first brought her and Ben together.

Running away, Faith?

I am not.

Ben always seemed to engage life so directly; he was unflinching, so sure of himself.

She was daydreaming. She could see Ben staring her down. Taking refuge, Faith? Never thought you were a coward.

You know I’m not, she protested the thought.

The rhythm of the old argument circled in her mind; the argument they had recycled so many times. It had moved them further and further apart, until she had left him – Ben, her lover, her mentor, her inspiration, once.

I can’t hold on to your certainties any more.

He had been so hurt. She couldn’t make him understand that it wasn’t about him. It had been something so personal; each step on her path to the ministry had seemed undeniable.

Her eyes came to rest on a stained-glass window panel leaning against the wall in the shadows beyond the pews. She guessed it must have been taken down on its way for repair. A glass section was cracked through and the leading twisted. The echo of the panel’s shape above was boarded up. A haloed lamb stood on a stretch of gaudy emerald grass. The Victorian artist had given the lamb a smiling, enigmatic expression. The Lamb of God.

Running away from reality.

That’s what he’d called it. To Ben, it had been a betrayal. And was he right? Was she seeking refuge from the world?

She looked around the congregation. These were people, individual persons, with their complicated lives, their struggles, their fears, their sins, their souls.

An intelligent, capable woman past thirty – with a degree, no less – buying into this delusion… for what? Ben always challenged her. They’d been a good team, once.

What am I doing?

Finding out.

That voice was somehow neither her own nor Ben’s. God and she often spoke like that. He would enter the conversation in her brain – not exactly unexpectedly. She had a sense he’d always been there. But since she had taken this turn – embraced this risk and embarked on the ministry – the sense of a presence, of an enduring and constant friend, had grown.

Finding out. The sense of opening horizons warmed and excited her. But then, what about Ben? He had moved back to Winchester more than a year ago.

And why should that matter one way or the other? He had his world now and she had hers.

The organist finished up with a self-important chord. The vicar was standing before them. Faith pulled her thoughts back to concentrate on the service.

Alistair Ingram took a step towards the altar draped in its Lenten purple, and the choir embarked on the Agnus Dei. Faith suppressed a smile as Pat Montesque’s forceful soprano rose above the rest.

“Lamb of God,

You take away the sin of the world.”

The vicar’s voice was clear and impressive. Faith wondered briefly if her own lighter tones could ever carry the words so well. Then she was caught up in the familiar comfort of their meaning.

“Jesus is the Lamb of God,

Who takes away the sin of the world.

Blessed are those who are called to his supper.”

Alistair Ingram spread out his arms to encompass his congregation. Sunlight, tinted by the stained glass in the window behind him, painted pastel blue and red on the white linen runner laid on top of the purple cloth.

“Amen.”

He picked up the communion cup and drank.

The toddler escaped from his mother and made a break for freedom past the communion rail, his feet pattering in quick uneven steps. What perfect timing. There had to be a life metaphor in that. Faith was pondering how children brought life into a church when her ears registered the choking rasp from the direction of the altar.

Alistair Ingram was staring out at nothing, his eyes wide, his chest heaving. Faith saw in slow motion. The chalice dropped from his hands. It hit the edge of the table. Wine flowed out red over the white cloth and stained the purple black. The empty cup rolled off the altar and struck the stone flags.

Alistair Ingram was no longer standing before them. Clutching at his chest and tearing at his vestments, he sat heavily on the steps.

The mother caught her son up in her arms. She turned his head into her shoulder, covering his face. Alistair slumped sideways. Faith realized that she was standing in the aisle, then she began to run towards the chancel steps.



Dynamic Uno here:  Faith Morgan is quite an interesting character.  She is a former cop turned priest and has quite a quirky sense of humor--even if it is a bit dry (which I love).   

I found it interesting that Faith is allowed to "help" with the murder investigation since she was a former cop and her ex-boyfriend is the lead investigator.  (That's not something that is usually condoned in the States, but since the story takes place across the pond in a small town, maybe there's more leeway given there.) 

I enjoyed meeting the people in the town of Little Worthy and I especially loved the antics of some of the parishioners. I did have my suspicions about "who did it," but didn't understand/know the motive until the very end of the book.  I am definitely interested in reading about more of Faith's adventures with her close-knit community of Little Worthy.

If you like "cozy" mysteries, you'll enjoy reading The Reluctant Detective by Martha Ockley.  Let me know what you think.  Happy Reading!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

In the Shadow of Evil by Robin Caroll

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:


In the Shadow of Evil

B&H Books (March 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Julie Gwinn, Trade Book Marketing, B&H Publishing Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:



Robin Caroll is a leading Christian suspense novelist. She gives back to the writing community as conference director for the American Christian Fiction Writers organization. A proud southerner through and through, Robin lives with her husband and three daughters in Arkansas.


Visit the author's website.


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Informed by the real-life fallout of the U.S. economy and devastation caused by multiple hurricanes along the southern coast, In the Shadow of Evil tells a modern day story involving the exposure of a building rebound scam. Amidst the layers of unethical practices, supply shortages, and excess murders, a top Louisiana homicide detective loses his heart to a charitable contractor while uncovering a secret about his tragic past.




Product Details:

List Price: $14.98
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: B&H Books (March 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0805449795
ISBN-13: 978-0805449792

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Prologue


Eighteen Years Earlier


What a night!

Maddox turned his car into the residential area and glanced at the digital display on the dash—12:28. Great, late for curfew. He smiled. Being late was worth it when he’d had a hot date with Julie Cordon. Man, the girl was something else. Beautiful, sexy, and funny. Just being with her made him feel special. Made him forget lots of things, including time.

Besides, he was seventeen. Curfews were for kids! A senior in high school, and he had to be home by midnight? All his Pop’s doing.

Tyson Bishop…Mr. Air Force man, determined to force the entire family to live by rules and regulations.

But his dad was over foreign soil right now, jumping out of perfectly good airplanes. Mom understood better, wasn’t quite the stickler about curfews like his dad. Good thing, too. Maddox was almost thirty minutes late tonight. Pop would blow his top and ground him for at least a month. Probably take away his car. But not Mom. She’d just caution him to pay closer attention to the time. Launch into the whole spiel about responsibility and accountability. He could recite it from memory.

Maddox whipped into the driveway and pressed the garage door opener. The light from the kitchen door spilled into the garage. Mom would be up…waiting. He should’ve called.

But being around Julie was like being caught in a time warp. Even the car’s interior held her smell. Light, flowery…teasing and tempting.

He killed the engine and jogged up the steps, slipping his charming smile into place. His mom had never been able to stay mad or disappointed when he flashed his dimples at her. He’d promise to mow the grass tomorrow before Pop got home, and she’d forget all about his tardiness.

He shut the garage door behind him and entered the kitchen. “Mom? I’m home.” The hint of roast lingered in the air.

The house was as silent as a tomb.

Odd. She would normally be on her feet to meet him.

He passed the kitchen’s butcher-block island and continued into the living room. A soft light filled the space beside her reading chair, but no sign of her.

“Mom?”

Maddox backtracked to the kitchen. Maybe she was in the downstairs bathroom.

“Hello?” His voice rose an octave as his pulse hammered. The bathroom door was wide open, the room dark.

Where was she?

His steps faltered as he pressed into the kitchen again. The backdoor stood open, the glass pane closest to the knob—shattered. His heart jumped into his throat.

“Mom!”

Using the agility that had garnered him the wide receiver place on the varsity football team, Maddox flew down the hall toward his parents’ bedroom. He pushed open the door with shaking hands.

His mother lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood staining the carpet around her. Her face pale against the dark red spilling from her chest. A metallic odor permeated the room.

What? He blinked repeatedly, his mind not processing what his eyes saw. Then…he did. And nearly vomited.

He raced to her side, lifting her head into his lap. “Mom.” Tears backed up in his eyes as he smoothed her hair.

“Mad-dy,” she croaked.

He grabbed the phone from the nightstand, the base landing on the floor with a resounding thud. He grabbed the receiver and punched in 9-1-1.

“Hang on, Mom. I’m calling for help.” Every nerve in his body stood at high alert.

“Too. Late.” She grimaced. A gurgling seeped from between her lips. Her body went slack in his arms.

“911, what is the nature of your emergency?”

He closed his eyes. Fought back scalding tears. “My mother. She’s been murdered.”






Dynamic Uno here: Wow!  I just finished reading In the Shadow of Evil and I'm still processing it.  I really enjoyed this novel because it is a high-paced thriller with a touch of romance.  It was nice to see the two lead characters overcome their stubbornness and work together to help solve the crimes.  Another neat thing is that the author included the "Roman's Road" path to salvation, but it wasn't like she was cramming it down people's throats.  It was cleverly tied into the plot so that non-Christians wouldn't question why it was there.

Happily, I didn't guess "who did it" until about the same time as the characters, which gives this book very high ratings.  (I HATE figuring things out early and having to wait.)  I'm really glad I read In the Shadow of Evil and I know that others will enjoy it too.

After finishing the book, I flipped it over and noticed Ms. Caroll has two other books in this series.  (And to think I thought this was a stand-alone novel when I requested it.)  The good news is that I didn't feel like I was missing anything by reading this book before any of the others.  In case you do want to read them, they are:  Fear No Evil and Deliver Us From Evil.

Let me know what you think!  Happy Reading!

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Angel Harp by Michael Phillips

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:


Angel Harp

FaithWords (January 26, 2011)

***Special thanks to Sarah Reck, Web Publicist, Hachette Book Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:





Michael Phillips has been writing in the Christian marketplace for 30 years. All told, he has written, co-written, and edited some 110 books. Phillips and his wife live in the U.S., and make their second home in Scotland.



Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Widowed at 34, amateur harpist Marie "Angel" Buchan realizes at 40 that her life and dreams are slowly slipping away. A summer in Scotland turns out to offer far more than she ever imagined! Not only does the music of her harp capture the fancy of the small coastal village she visits, she is unexpectedly drawn into a love triangle involving the local curate and the local duke.

The boyhood friends have been estranged as adults because of their mutual love of another woman (now dead) some years before. History seems destined to repeat itself, with Marie in the thick of it. Her involvement in the lives of the two men, as well as in the community, leads to a range of exciting relationships and lands Marie in the center of the mystery of a long-unsolved local murder. Eventually she must make her decision: with whom will she cast the lot of her future?


Product Details:

List Price: $16.99
Paperback: 464 pages
Publisher: FaithWords (January 26, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 044656771X
ISBN-13: 978-0446567718

TO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER, PRESS THE 'BROWSE INSIDE THIS BOOK' BUTTON:







Dynamic Uno here:  Angel Harp is about Marie Buchan, a harpist, who decides that her life is passing her by and that she needs a dramatic change to get out of her funk.  Being widowed at thirty-four did not help matters, but she decided to plan a trip to Scotland so that one of her dreams would actually become a reality.

When she arrives in Scotland, she decides to travel around and sight-see a bit to take in the rich history of the country and see with her own eyes, the songs she plays on her harp brought to life.  While on her travels, she comes upon the town of Port Scarnose and realizes that this is the place to play her harp.  Falling in love with the town and making connections with its people, Marie decides to extend her stay in Scotland. 

Word gets around of Marie's harp playing abilities and she soon finds herself the object of attraction of two of the town's eligible bachelors.  In addition to the love triangle, Marie finds herself walking in the middle of a controversial mystery, whose origins lie with the very two men she's been seeing!  Will she find out the truth before it's too late, or will she get sucked into repeating history?  You'll have to read the book to find out!

While I felt a little bogged down by the history at the beginning of the book, I enjoyed reading about how it all tied together through what Marie learns about the people and the town of Port Scarnose.  I also enjoyed the mystery and romance aspects of the book.  It was hard for me to find out what happened at the end because I enjoyed the two "suitors" immensely and wanted to see where each relationship headed as it developed.  (She had a very tough decision to make and I'm glad I wasn't in her shoes.)  I was a littler surprised at the abrupt ending, but most of the details were wrapped up--not in a bow-styled package, but most of my questions were answered by the end of the book.

I would really like to read another story using some of the same characters, or even explore the story behind Findlater Castle and why it's now in ruins.  I also liked the map that was included of the area so I could look at the distances and the lay-out of the land.

If you like novels surrounded in mystery and have a touch of romance and history to them, then you'll definitely want to read Angel Harp by Michael Phillips.  Let me know what you think.  Happy Reading!