Mailbox Monday

CMash May 10, 2021 1 Comment

Mailbox Monday

According to Marcia, “Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.

Click on title for synopsis via GoodReads.

Monday: (05/03/21)

When I Last Saw You by Bette Lee Crosby~ Kindle personal purchase
Say Goodbye by Karen Rose ~ Kindle from Berkley/PenguinRandomHouse

Wednesday: (05/05/21)

Last Girl Ghosted by Lisa Unger~ Kindle from Harlequin via NetGalley

Book Review, NetGalley, Uncategorized

#Review | The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda

CMash May 5, 2021 Leave a Comment

The Next Wife by Kaira Rouda
Genre: #DomestricThriller #PsychologicalThriller
Published by Thomas & Mercer
Publication Date: May 1, 2021
ASIN: B08C7J3LQZ
Pages: 306
Review Copy From: Thomas & Mercer via NetGalley
Edition: eARC
My Rating: 4+

Synopsis (via GR)

There is no limit to the lies, suspicion, and secrets that can poison the perfect marriage in this twisting novel of suspense by USA Today bestselling author Kaira Rouda.

Kate Nelson had it all. A flourishing company founded with her husband, John; a happy marriage; and a daughter, Ashlyn. The picture-perfect family. Until John left for another woman. Tish is half his age. Ambitious. She’s cultivated a friendship with Ashlyn. Tish believes she’s won.

She’s wrong.

Tish Nelson has it all. Youth, influence, a life of luxury, and a new husband. But the truth is, there’s a lot of baggage. Namely, his first wife—and suspicions of his infidelity. After all, that’s how she got John. Maybe it’s time for a romantic getaway, far from his vindictive ex. If Kate plans on getting John back, Tish is one step ahead of her.

She thinks.

But what happens next is something neither Kate nor Tish saw coming. As best-laid plans come undone, there’s no telling what a woman will do in the name of love—and revenge.

My Thoughts

After Reading The Favorite Daughter, I put this author on my radar and have been waiting patiently, well maybe not so patiently, for this book!!

It’s a big day at EventCo when the company that John and Kate, his first wife, started many years ago goes public on the Stock Market. But Kate, and their only child Ashlyn, are seething because Tish, his 2nd and much younger wife, is trying to move into the spotlight.

John has been under a lot of stress with the company going public so Tish plans what was going to be a romantic getaway weekend. Another reason to take John away is that she is getting feelings that Kate and John might be having thoughts of reconciliation. But John never makes it home. Did he have a heart attack from all the stress or was it murder?

Now the 3 Nelson women are battling it out as to who has complete control over the company. Is it Tish, who they think is a gold digger? Or is it Kate, the first wife who helped built this company and wants revenge on how John humiliated her? Or is it Ashlyn, the only heir apparent, who has been spoiled from her birth 21 years ago?

This was a quick read because I just kept turning the pages to see what the outcome was going to be. The characters were believable. It was a read that transports the reader into the story.

I knew, or at least thought I thought I did, from that fateful day that John died, who was behind everything and fighting to get everything. WRONG!!!! And then the ending that blew me away!!!!

A chilling read that was gripping from the first page to the last.

The reason for not a full 5 stars was for 2 reasons. 1. I felt that some things were repetitive and 2. The ending left me with unanswered questions. Does that mean a sequel?

Either way, I will be once again in waiting mode for Ms. Rouda’s next novel.

Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Barnes & Noble 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗

REVIEW DISCLAIMER

This blog was founded on the premise to write honest reviews, to the best of my ability, no matter who from, where from and/or how the book was obtained, and will continue to do so, even if it is through PICT or PBP.

I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.

I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Uncategorized

Mailbox Monday

CMash May 3, 2021 1 Comment

Mailbox Monday

According to Marcia, “Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.

Today’s list is the combination of a couple of weeks. We finally could travel, after a year, to spend the week with my younger son, DIL and 2 granddaughterss

Click on title for synopsis via GoodReads.

Sunday: (04/18/21)

Bright Burning Things by Lisa Harding ebBookfrom HarperVia via NetGalley

Monday: (04/19/21)
Trace Of Doubt by DiAnn Mills ~ Kindle from Tyndale House Publisher via NetGalley

Tuesday: (04/20/21)

Cul-de-sac by Joy Fielding ~ Kindle from Random House via NetGalley

Tuesday: (04/27/21)

Thee Guilt Trip by Sandie Jones ~ Kindle from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley

Dream Girl by Laura Lippman ~ Kindle from Faber & Faber Ltd via NetGalley

Then She Vanishes by Claire Douglas ~ ARC from Harper Collins

Wednesday: (04/28/21)

What To Do When Someone Dies by Nicci French ~ Kindle from Harper Collins

Saturday: (05/01/21)

False Witness by Karin Slaughter ~ ARC from Harper Collins

Uncategorized

#Review | THE PERFECT DAUGHTER by D.J. Palmer

CMash April 21, 2021 2 Comments

The Perfect Daughter by D.J. Palmer
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Published by St. Martin’s Press
Publication Date: April 20, 2021
ASIN: B08BYC8KX2
Pages: 384
Review Copy From: Publisher via NetGalley
Edition: Kindle
My Rating: 5

Synopsis (via GR)

The Perfect Daughter is a thriller that explores the truth or lies behind a teenage girl’s multiple personality disorder, from D.J. Palmer, the author of The New Husband.

Grace never dreamt she’d visit her teenaged daughter Penny in the locked ward of a decaying state psychiatric hospital, charged with the murder of a stranger. There was not much question of her daughter’s guilt. Police had her fingerprints on the murder weapon and the victim’s blood on her body and clothes. But they didn’t have a motive.

Grace blames herself, because that’s what mothers do—they look at their choices and wonder, what if? But hindsight offers little more than the chance for regret.

None of this was conceivable the day Penny came into her life. Then, it seemed like a miracle. Penny was found abandoned, with a mysterious past, and it felt like fate brought Penny to her, and her husband Arthur. But as she grew, Penny’s actions grew more disturbing, and different “personalities” emerged.

Arthur and Grace took Penny to different psychiatrists, many of whom believed she was putting on a show to help manage her trauma. But Grace didn’t buy it. The personas were too real, too consistent. It had to be a severe multiple personality disorder. One determined psychiatrist, Dr. Mitch McHugh, helped discover someone new inside Penny—a young girl named Abigail. Is this the nameless girl who was abandoned in the park years ago? Mitch thinks Abigail is the key to Penny’s past and to the murder. But as Grace and Mitch dig deeper, they uncover dark and shocking secrets that put all their lives in grave danger.

My Thoughts

D.J. Palmer has crafted another bombshell!!!! A nuclear bombshell!!!

I have been waiting patiently for this book and it did not disappoint!!

I’m not going to reiterate the synopsis but state how this book affected me.

The narrative is told via several POVs. The characters were so lifelike and relatable even though they are flawed. Compassion was felt for many of the cast members to the point that my heart was breaking for them. The suspense was taut with heart-pounding moments. A definite white knuckle read!

And then WAIT!!!! WHAT?? Did I just read that? I had to read the sentence three times to make sure I wasn’t misunderstanding who the murderer was!!!! A jaw-dropper that I did not see coming nor was it on my radar!!!

A read that will transport the reader into the story without knowing what is going on around them.

And now the BIG question. When will the next novel be published so I can put it on my calendar?

Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Barnes & Noble 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗

REVIEW DISCLAIMER

This blog was founded on the premise to write honest reviews, to the best of my ability, no matter who from, where from and/or how the book was obtained, and will continue to do so, even if it is through PICT or PBP.

I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.

I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

Holiday, Uncategorized

Happy Easter

CMash April 4, 2021 1 Comment

From our house to yours, have a very Happy and Blessed Easter!

Mailbox Monday, Uncategorized

Mailbox Monday

CMash March 29, 2021 1 Comment

Mailbox Monday

According to Marcia, “Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.

Click on title for synopsis via GoodReads.

Friday: (03/26/21)
My Little Girl by Shalini Boland~ Kindle from Bookouture via NetGalley

Uncategorized

MURDER ON THE METRO by Jon Land | #Showcase #Interview #Giveaway

CMash March 17, 2021 Leave a Comment

Murder On The Metro

by Jon Land

March 1-31, 2021 Tour

Synopsis:

Israel: A drone-based terrorist attack kills dozens on a sun-splashed beach in Caesarea.

Washington: America awakens to the shattering news that Vice President Stephanie Davenport has died of an apparent heart attack.

That same morning, a chance encounter on the Washington Metro results in international private investigator Robert Brixton thwarting an attempted terrorist bombing. Brixton has no reason to suspect that the three incidents have anything in common, until he’s contacted by Kendra Rendine, the Secret Service agent who headed up the vice president’s security detail. Rendine is convinced the vice president was murdered and needs Brixton’s investigative expertise to find out why.

In Israel, meanwhile, legendary anti-terrorist fighter Lia Ganz launches her own crusade against the perpetrators of that attack which nearly claimed the lives of her and granddaughter. Ganz’s trail will ultimately take her to Washington where she joins forces with Brixton to uncover an impossible link between the deadly attack on Caesarea and the attempted Metro bombing, as well as the death of the vice president.

The connection lies in the highest corridors of power in Washington where a deadly plot with unimaginable consequences has been hatched. With the clock ticking toward doomsday, Brixton and Ganz race against time to save millions of American lives who will otherwise become collateral damage to a conspiracy destined to change the United States forever.

Praise :

“Jon Land is one of the best thriller writers in the business, and the Capital Crimes series is in superb and skilled hands with him. Nobody does pacing better than Land, and MURDER ON THE METRO starts with a bang and keeps on going at breakneck speed. If you haven’t read this excellent series, start with Land’s MURDER ON THE METRO.” —Lisa Scottoline, #1 New York Times bestselling author

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller
Published by: Forge Books
Publication Date: February 16th 2021
Number of Pages: 288
ISBN: 1250238870 (ISBN13: 9781250238870)
Series: A Capital Crimes Novel, #31
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Author Bio:

JON LAND is the USA Today bestselling author of over fifty books, including eleven in the critically acclaimed Texas Ranger Caitlin Strong series, the most recent of which, Strong from the Heart, won the 2020 American Fiction Award for Best Thriller and the 2020 American Book Fest Award for Best Mystery/Suspense Novel. Additionally, he has teamed up with Heather Graham for a science fiction series that began with THE RISING (winner of the 2017 International Book Award for best Sci-fi Novel) and continues with BLOOD MOON. He has also written six books in the Murder, She Wrote series of mysteries and has more recently taken over Margaret Truman’s Capital Crimes series, beginning with Murder on the Metro in February of 2021. A graduate of Brown University, he received the 2019 Rhode Island Authors Legacy Award for his lifetime of literary achievements. Land lives in Providence, Rhode Island.

Q&A with Jon Land

What was the inspiration for this book?

My desire to reboot a legacy series. Margaret Truman’s Capital Crimes is one of the most recognizable brands in the mystery-thriller field. But it seems to have been floundering for the last five or so books, as if struggling for its identity and definition. So I wrote MURDER ON THE METRO by imagining how Margaret herself would have had she begun the series today.

What has been the biggest challenge in your writing career?

Wow, that’s a great question! I’d have to give you two which are interrelated: remaining relevant as a writer and making enough money to pay the bills. This is such a tough business in the sense that you’re a prisoner of your numbers, no matter how great the books you write are. You have to roll with the punches and not be afraid to redefine yourself. I live by the mantra, “The answer’s yes. What was the question?

What do you absolutely need while writing?

Ah, an easier question to answer! A great story to tell. If I’ve got that, the only other thing I need is a working Mac.

Do you adhere to a strict routine when writing or write when the ideas are flowing?

Another great question! If you don’t adhere to a strict routine, you’re an amateur, not a professional. Name me another profession where you need to to have ideas flowing just to show up. Ideas flow because you need them to flow. You don’t sit around and wait for them. Professionals show up every day and get the work done. If you want to make this a career, you need to be a professional.

Who is your favorite character from your book and why?

Normally, I have a sidekick or foil character who’s my favorite. But in the case of MURDER ON THE METRO, it’s the hero Robert Brixton, because I really enjoyed honing and pruning his character to be more active and proactive. He takes matters into his own hands. He doesn’t wait for things to come to him. And he’s driven by a past tragedy in his life that sets him on a downward spiral this book gives him a chance to reverse. MURDER ON THE METRO is actually about something in that respect and that’s why I chose Brixton as my favorite.

Tell us why we should read your book.

Well, I’m not exactly objective and it depends on your tastes. But if you like thrillers in general, political thrillers in particular, and you want to lose yourself in a book that you can’t put down, this is for you.

Give us an interesting fun fact or a few about your book?

Hah-Hah! That’s a tough one. But the first thing that comes to mind was some of the settings I found around Washington I didn’t know about. Like a trolley system that was in the process of being expanded underground when the Metro came along and all construction was halted. People might read the action scene set on one of those ancient trolley platforms and think I made it up, but I didn’t.

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?

Thank you for continuing to come along for the ride, wherever it takes us!

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

I wrote my first book as a senior thesis at Brown University, and it taught me two crucial things about myself as a writer: first that I was a thriller writer and, second, that I could finish a book. If you can’t finish a book, you’re not really a writer.

What’s next that we can look forward to?

Maybe a whole bunch of stuff, the most exciting of which I don’t want to talk about because it’s not definite. I have a sense I’m in one of those transitional periods where my career is taking me to a different place. Other than that, and until I can be more specific, MURDER AT THE CDC, my second book in the Capital Crimes series, publishes a year from now.

Catch Up With Jon Land:
jonlandbooks.com
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram
Twitter
Facebook

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

Washington, DC; the next morning

Not again . . .

That was Robert Brixton’s first thought when his gaze locked on the woman seated across from him in the Washington Metro car. He was riding into the city amid the clutter of morning commuters from the apartment in Arlington, Virginia where he now lived alone, his girlfriend Flo Combes having returned to New York.

Former girlfriend, Brixton corrected in his mind. And Flo’s return to New York, where she’d opened her first clothing boutique, looked very much like it was for good this time.

Which brought his attention back to the woman wearing a hijab and bearing a strong resemblance to another Muslim woman who’d been haunting his sleep for five years now, since she’d detonated a suicide bomb inside a crowded DC restaurant, killing Brixton’s daughter Janet and eleven other victims that day. He’d seen it coming, felt it anyway, as if someone had dragged the head of a pin up his spine. He hadn’t been a cop for years at that point, having taken his skills into the private sector, but his instincts remained unchanged, always serving him well and almost always being proven right.

But today he wanted to be wrong, wanted badly to be wrong. Because if his instincts were correct, tragedy was about to repeat itself with him bearing witness yet again, relocated from a bustling café to a crowded Metro car.

The woman wearing the hijab turned enough to meet his gaze, Brixton unable to jerk his eyes away in time and forcing the kind of smile strangers cast each other. The woman didn’t return it, just turned her focus back forward, her expression empty as if bled of emotion. In Brixton’s experience, she resembled a criminal who found strange solace in the notion of being caught after tiring of the chase. That was the suspicious side of his nature. If not for a long career covering various aspects of law enforcement, including a private investigator with strong international ties, Brixton would likely have seen her as the other passengers in the Metro car did: A quiet woman with big soft eyes just hoping to blend in with the scenery and not attract any attention to herself.

Without reading material of any kind, a cell phone in her grasp, or ear buds dangling. Brixton gazed about; as far as he could tell, she was the only passenger in sight, besides him, not otherwise occupied to pass the time. So in striving not to stand out, the young woman had achieved the opposite.

He studied her closer, determining that the woman didn’t look tired, so much as content. And, beneath her blank features, Brixton sensed something taut and resigned, a spring slowly uncoiling. Something, though, had changed in her expression since the moment their eyes had met. She was fidgeting in her seat now, seeking comfort that clearly eluded her.

Just as another suicide bomber had five years ago

If he didn’t know better, he would’ve fully believed he was back in that DC restaurant again, granted a second chance to save his daughter after he’d failed so horribly the first time.

***

Five years ago

What world are you in? Janet had asked a clearly distracted Brixton, then consumed by the nagging feeling dragged up his spine.

Let’s go.

Daddy, I haven’t finished!

Janet always called him “Daddy.” Much had been lost to memory from that day, forcibly put aside, but not that or the moments that followed. It had been the last time she’d ever called him that and Brixton had fought to preserve the recording that existed only in his mind resolvedly ever since. Whenever it faded, he fought to get it back, treating Janet’s final address of him like a voicemail machine message from a lost loved one forever saved on his phone.

Come on.

Is something wrong?

We’re leaving.

Brixton had headed to the door, believing his daughter was right behind him. He realized she wasn’t only when he was through it, turning back toward the table to see Janet facing the Muslim woman wearing the hijab who was chanting in Arabic.

Janet!

He’d started to storm back inside to get her when the explosion shattered the placid stillness of the day, an ear-splitting blast that hit him like a Category Five wind gust to the chest and sent him sprawling to the sidewalk. His head ping-ponged off the concrete, threatening his grip on consciousness. Parts of a splintered table came flying in his direction and he threw his arms over his face to shield it from wooden shards and other debris that caked the air, cataloguing them as they soared over him in absurd counterpoint. Plates, glasses, skin, limbs, eyeglasses, knives, forks, beer mugs, chair legs and arms, calamari, boneless ribs, pizza slices, a toy gorilla that had been held by a child a table two removed from where he’d been sitting with Janet, and empty carafes of wine with their contents seeming to trail behind them like vapor trails.

The surreal nature of that moment made Brixton think he might be sleeping, all this no more than the product of an airy dream to be lost to memory by the time woke. He remembered lying on the sidewalk, willing himself to wake up, to rouse from this nightmare-fueled stupor. The worst moment of his life followed the realization that he wasn’t asleep and an imponderable wave of grief washed over him, stealing his next breath and making him wonder if he even wanted to bother trying for another.

Brixton had stumbled to his feet before what moments earlier had been a bustling café filled with happy people. Now, bodies were everywhere, some piled on top of others, blood covering everything and everyone. He touched the side of his face and pulled bloody fingers away from the wound. He looked back into the café in search of his daughter but saw only a tangle of limbs and clothing where they’d been sitting.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, his senses sharpening. “Janet!”

Washington’s Twenty-third Street had been crammed with pedestrians at the time of the blast, joined now by people pouring out of office buildings and other restaurants nearby, within eye or earshot of the dual blasts. Brixton’s attempts to get closer to the carnage, holding out hope Janet might still be alive, were thwarted at every turn by throngs fleeing in panic in an endless wave.

“My daughter! My daughter!” he kept crying out, as if that might make the crowd yield and the chaos recede.

***

It wasn’t until Brixton reached the hospital that he learned Janet hadn’t made it out, had been declared one of the missing. Having served as an agent for a private security agency out-sourced to the State Department at the time, he knew all too well that missing meant dead. He had another daughter, Janet’s older sister, who’d given him a beautiful grandson he loved dearly, but that was hardly enough to make up for the loss of Janet. And the guilt over not having dragged her out with him when she’d resisted leaving had haunted him to this very moment, when instinct told him many on this crowded subway car might well be about to join her.

Thanks to another woman wearing a hijab, but it wasn’t just that. Brixton had crossed paths with an untold number of Arab women in the five years since Janet’s death, and not one before today had ever elicited in him the feeling he had now. She might’ve been a twin of the bomber who’d taken his daughter from him, about whom Brixton could recall only one thing:

Her eyes.

This woman had the very same shifting look, trying so hard to appear casual that it seemed she was wearing a costume, sticking out to him as much as a kid on Halloween. Brixton spun his gaze back in her direction, prepared to measure off the distance between them and how he might cover it before she could trigger her explosives.

But the young woman was gone.

Brixton looked down the center aisle cluttered with commuters clutching poles or dangling hand-hold straps. He spotted the young woman in the hijab an instant before she cocked her gaze briefly back in his direction, a spark of clear recognition flashing when their eyes met this time.

She knows I made her, Brixton thought, heavy with fear as he climbed to his feet.

He started after her, heart hammering in his chest, the sensation he was feeling in that dreadful moment all too familiar. He couldn’t help but catalogue the people he passed in the woman’s wake, many of whom were either his late daughter’s age or younger. Smiling, gabbing away on their phones, reading a book, or lost between their earbuds without any knowledge of how horribly their lives might very well be about to change. If he needed any further motivation to keep moving and stop the potential suicide bomber though any means necessary, that was it. Doubt vanished, Brixton trusting his instincts in a way he hadn’t that tragic day five years ago when he was still a de facto agent for the US government.

Janet . . .

In Brixton’s mind, this was no longer a Metro car, but the same restaurant where a suicide bomber had taken a dozen lives and wounded dozens more. And he found himself faced with the chance to do today what he hadn’t done five years ago.

Stop!

Had Brixton barked that command out loud, or merely formed the thought in his head. Other passengers were staring at him now, his surge up the aisle disturbing the meager comfort of their morning routine.

Ahead of him, the woman wearing the hijab had picked up her pace, Brixton spotting her dip a hand beneath a jacket that seemed much too heavy for the unseasonably mild Washington, DC spring. His experience with the State Department working for the shadowy SITQUAL group, along with that as a cop, told him she was likely reaching for the pull cord that would detonate the suicide vest concealed under bulky sweatshirt and jacket.

If you could relive the day of your daughter’s death, what would you do?

I’d shoot the bitch before she had the chance to yank that cord, Brixton thought, drawing his Sig Sauer P-226 nine-millimeter pistol. It had survived his tenure with SITQUAL as his weapon of choice, well balanced and deadly accurate.

He could feel the crowd around him recoiling, pulling back, when they saw the pistol steadied in his hand. Several gasped. A woman cried out. A kid dropped his cell phone into Brixton’s path and he accidentally kicked it aside.

“Stop!”

Shouted out loud for sure this time, the dim echo bouncing off the Metro car’s walls as it wound in thunderous fashion through the tube. The young woman in the hijab was almost to the rear door separating this car from the next. Brixton was close enough to hear the whoooooshhh as she engaged the door, breaking the rule that prohibited passengers from such car-hopping.

“Stop!”

She turned her gaze back toward him as he raised his pistol, ready to take the shot he hadn’t taken five years ago. Passengers cried out and shrank from his path. The door hissed closed, the young woman regarding him vacantly through the safety glass as she stretched hand out blindly to activate the door accessing the next car back.

And that’s when she stumbled. Brixton was well aware of the problems encountered by this new 7000 series of Metro railcars after federal safety officials raised repeated concerns about a potential safety risk involving the barriers between cars that were designed to prevent blind and visually impaired people from inadvertently walking off the platform and falling through the gap. The issue initially was raised by disability rights advocates, who argued the rubber barriers were spaced too far apart, leaving enough room for a small person to slip through.

The young woman wearing the hijab was small. And she started to slip through.

Brixton watched her drop from sight an instant before an all-too familiar flash created a star burst before him. He felt light, floating as if there was nothing beneath his feet, because for a moment there wasn’t. The piercing blast that buckled the Metro car door blew him backward, the percussion lifting him up and then dropping him back down, still in motion sliding across the floor amid a demolition derby of commuters crashing into each other, as the train barreled along. Separated now from its rear-most cars, what remained of the train whipsawed through the tube with enough force to lift this car from the rails and send it alternately slamming up against one side and then the other.

Brixton maintained the presence of mind to realize his back and shoulders had come to rest awkwardly against a seat, even as the squeal of the brakes engaging grew into a deafening wail and his eyes locked on the car door that to him looked as if someone had used a can opener to carve a jagged fissure along the center of its buckled seam. The car itself seemed to be swaying—left, right, and back again—but he couldn’t be sure if that was real or the product of the concussion he may have suffered from the blast wave or upon slamming up against the seat.

Unlike five years ago, Brixton had come to rest sitting up, staring straight ahead at the back door of the Metro car currently held at an awkwardly angled perch nearly sideways across the tracks. He realized that through it all he’d somehow maintained grasp of his pistol, now steadied at the twisted remnants of the Metro car door as if he expected the young woman to reappear at any moment.

Janet . . .

A wave of euphoria washed over Brixton as, this time, he thought he’d saved her, making the best of the do-over fate had somehow granted him. The Metro car floor felt soft and cushiony, leaving him with the dream-like sense he was drifting away toward the bright lights shining down from the ceiling.

And then there was only darkness.

***

Tour Participants:

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Mailbox Monday, Uncategorized

Mailbox Monday

CMash February 22, 2021 1 Comment

Mailbox Monday

According to Marcia, “Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.

Click on title for synopsis via GoodReads.