Reading, Reviewing, Guest Authors, Giveaways and more.
_________________ make me _____________________.
I’m surprised that _________.
To make a long story short, _________.
I have too many unread books for me to read in my lifetime.
Being with my family makes me happy.
I’m surprised that it is still warm here in the Northeast.
To make a long story short, get to the point!.
AFTER NIGHTFALL by A.J. Banner
Genre: Thriller/Suspense
Published by Lake Union Publishing
Publication Date: Aug. 10, 2018
ISBN-10: 1503949249
ISBN-13: 978-1503949249
Pages: 256
Review Copy From: Library
Edition: HC
My Rating: 5
Beware of friends with secrets…
Imagine your closest friend utterly betraying you. Years later, when she seeks forgiveness, you invite her to your engagement party as a gesture of reconciliation. But seething hostilities rise to the surface, ruining everyone’s evening. After an awful night, your friend’s battered, lifeless body is found at the bottom of a rocky cliff.
Newly engaged Marissa Parlette is living this nightmare. She should be celebrating her upcoming wedding, but she can’t shake the image of her friend lying dead on the beach. Did she fall? Was she pushed? Or did she take a purposeful step into darkness? Desperate for answers, Marissa digs deep into the events of the party. But what she remembers happening after nightfall now carries sinister implications: the ugly sniping, the clandestine meetings, the drunken flirtations. The more she investigates, the more she questions everything she thought she knew about her friends, the man she once trusted, and even herself.
Bestselling author A. J. Banner keeps readers on a razor-sharp edge in this intricately plotted novel of psychological suspense…in which nothing is as it seems.
This was a “new to me” author but after seeing many great reviews and recommendations in the FB book groups I follow, I thought I would pick it up at my local library.
This is an edge of your seat read from the first word to the last. An elaborate puzzling plot that had me thinking I knew who the murderer was and then thinking it was another character. Not even close! And for the motive, WOW!, didn’t see that coming.
This author is now on my “authors to read” list and I am looking forward to reading more of her work.
Gripping! I definitely recommend it if you enjoy psychological thrillers.
Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Barnes & Noble 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗
A High School “American Psycho”
SOME TRUTHS ARE BETTER KEPT SECRET.
SOME SECRETS ARE BETTER OFF DEAD.
Along the banks of the Bogue Falaya River, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river.
And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux.
The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Handsome. Charming. Intelligent. The star quarterback of the football team. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch.
He is also a psychopath.
A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the ruined St. Francis Abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize.
As the victim toll mounts, it becomes crystal clear that someone has to stop Beau Devereaux.
And that someone will pay with their life.
Book Details:
Genre: Young Adult, Horror, Thriller
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication Date: October 2, 2018
Number of Pages: 389
ISBN: 1944109145 (ISBN13: 9781944109141)
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, CRRN, ONC, PhD, is a multi award-winning author of twenty-five novels, a screenwriter, ICU Nurse, and historian who was born and raised in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Having grown up in the motion picture industry as the daughter of a director, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight.
Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable.
A permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries, Weis rescues orphaned and injured animals. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans. Weis writes paranormal, suspense, thrillers, horror, crime fiction, and romance.
Welcome!
Writing and Reading:
Do you draw from personal experiences and/or current events?
I draw from a lot of personal experiences. As a nurse for over twenty-five years I have had a lot of experience with the human condition—good and bad. It has made me a better writer.
Do you start with the conclusion and plot in reverse or start from the beginning and see where the story line brings you?
I always start at the beginning and see where the story brings me. I like to surprise myself as I write, and I never plot out a story because I never stick with it.
Are any of your characters based on you or people that you know?
Some characters in every book I write are based on the people I know. Makes them more relatable for me and the reader.
Your routine when writing? Any idiosyncrasies?
I just sit and write. I spend several hours a day writing, so it has become a habit for me.
Tell us why we should read this book.
Death by the River is an entertaining and riveting in-depth look at a man’s descent into depravity and the psychological instability he suffers from. How he manifests his fantasies by hurting the innocent also ignites the need for revenge in the women he harms. How his mental illness develops, and how it affects others, is the crux of the story. Beau Devereaux for me is a fascinating character.
Who are some of your favorite authors?
Ian Fleming, Mary Renault, Charles Dickens.
What are you reading now?
ISAN: International Sensory Assassin Network by Mary Ting
Are you working on your next novel? Can you tell us a little about it?
My next YA (historical) novel is complete and will be out in May 2019. Realm (Vesuvian Books) is about the sixteen-year-old Persian wife of Alexander the Great—Roxana. The daughter of a local governor in Bactria, Alexander married her and took her with him on his travels across Persia and India. It is about her time with him and the years after his death when she is bounced around his myriad of generals who are vying for control of his empire. It is an epic tale of love, conquest, and the plight of women in ancient times. History tells his story. This is hers.
Fun questions:
Favorite leisure activity/hobby?
I’m a runner. When I am not writing, I am working out on my treadmill.
Favorite meal?
French fries.
Thank you for stopping by CMash Reads and spending time with us.
Lucas Astor is from New York, has resided in Central America and the Middle East, and traveled through Europe. He lives a very private, virtually reclusive lifestyle, preferring to spend time with a close-knit group of friends than be in the spotlight.
He is an author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but right next door behind a smiling face.
Photography, making wine, and helping endangered species are just some of his interests. Lucas is an expert archer and enjoys jazz, blues, and classical music.
One of his favorite quotes is: “It’s better to be silent than be a fool.” ~Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird)
The rush consumed him. He knew in that instant he would find another victim, but his rational mind begged him to be careful.
Don’t get caught.
He chuckled. Besides the money, his father still had hefty political clout in Baton Rouge, thanks to his notorious grandfather and years of murky business dealings. The family name had spared him in the past from legal proceedings and institutions. It would again.
Heading toward the fountain across the grassy field, Beau considered his next night of fun. Before he reached the forgotten angel, a flash in the corner of his eye made him turn.
Amid the trees, crowding the edge of the property, something darted in and out. He could just make out a long, white hooded cloak, fluttering and billowing at the edge of the woods. Then it disappeared.
His heart rocketed to his throat. It can’t be!
All the stories he’d heard of the lady in white of The Abbey came rushing back at once, intensifying his panic.
Then he calmed. Someone had to be messing with him. It wasn’t the girl. Kelly had taken off, a bawling mess, across the field several minutes before and he’d heard the slam of the iron gate. He was alone. Unless … the guys had pulled a fast one on him.
But the guys don’t know about your room in the cells.
Beau cut across the grass, anxious to get to the iron gate and back to the party. Almost to the path, he glanced back over his shoulder to the patch of trees where he had seen the ghostly presence. Nothing was there.
It was just your imagination. Or was it?
He made it to the party at the beach, relieved to be back among people, but the incident with the ghost had eradicated his high.
He hungered for it to return but would have to wait.
***
Excerpt from Death by the River by Alexandrea Weis and Lucas Astor. Copyright © 2018 by Alexandrea Weis and Lucas Astor. Reproduced with permission from Vesuvian Books. All rights reserved.
Tour Participants:
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
How do you prove a murder without a body?
Ten years ago, Reece Bower was accused of killing his wife, a crime he always denied. Extensive police searches near his home in Bakewell found no trace of Annette Bower’s remains, and the case against him collapsed.
But now memories of the original investigation have been resurrected for Detective Inspector Ben Cooper – because Reece Bower himself has disappeared, and his new wife wants answers.
Cooper can’t call on the Major Crime Unit and DS Diane Fry for help unless he can prove a murder took place – impossible without a body. As his search moves into the caves and abandoned mines in the isolated depths of Lathkilldale, the question is: who would want revenge for the death of Annette Bower?
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery
Published by: Witness Impulse
Publication Date: September 25, 2018
Number of Pages: 384
ISBN: 0062876104 (ISBN13: 9780062876102)
Series: Cooper & Frye Mysteries #17
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
A former newspaper journalist, British author Stephen Booth is the creator of two young Derbyshire police detectives, Ben Cooper and Diane Fry, who have appeared in 17 crime novels, all set in and around England’s Peak District.
No one wants to die in the dark. To lie alone in the blackness, feeling the chill of death creep slowly over you. Shut away from the light as the fear numbs your limbs and chokes the breath in your throat. The long, long sinking into the cold depths. And then to sense that slipping away. The final slipping away into nothing.
Do you feel that stab of pain as it shoots through your chest? Try to make your breathing more shallow. You have several broken ribs, a fractured arm, perhaps a punctured lung. You can hardly know, in the dark. But you can feel the internal bleeding, the seeping blood as it squeezes your internal organs, bloats your stomach and intestines. You know your injuries are fatal.
That fear of the dark is overwhelming. Because this is true darkness, an eternal night in which your eyes have become useless. Your heart thumps uselessly as you strain to see where you’re lying. You can sense space around you, a slight movement of icy air, a shifting of heavy masses, a solid weight way above your head. A sharp, stabbing pain is in your back from something hard you’re lying on. This isn’t a grave. But it is your tomb.
Does your fear of the dark make any sense? When you’re dead, you go into endless blackness. Yet you’ve always hoped you would get one last glimpse of the light, always prayed that you wouldn’t die alone.
Well, that’s not going to happen. There’s nothing for you to see here. Not a glimmer of light, not a flicker of hope. Only the darkness.
A creak and a rattling makes you freeze. Is someone here? Or some thing? But no . . . you breathe out and release the pain. The noise has quite a different meaning. It’s something huge shifting overhead. It signals the end, the approach of your death. You’re about to be crushed completely.
***
Excerpt from Dead In The Dark by Stephen Booth. Copyright © 2018 by Witness Impulse. Reproduced with permission from Witness Impulse. All rights reserved.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
October is perfect for _________________.
Where I live, _________.
I feel very _________ this time of year.
My favorite font is not necessarily my favorite but the one I use for correspondence is Ariel.
October is perfect for me is to do marathon cooking in big batches to freeze for those nights I don’t feel like cooking..
Where I live, it takes approx 1 hour to get from the northern part of the state to the southern point.
I feel very sad because I know the cold and snow is just around the corner. Plus the nights seem to be so long because it gets dark early this time of year.
THE LIAR’S ROOM by Simon Lelic
Genre: Mystery/Thriller
Published by Berkley
Publication Date: January 15, 2019
ASIN: B07CKPBT1W
Pages: 352
Review Copy From: Publisher
Edition: ARC
My Rating: 4
ONE ROOM. TWO LIARS. NO WAY OUT…
Susanna Fenton has a secret. Fourteen years ago she left her identity behind, reinventing herself as a counsellor and starting a new life. It was the only way to keep her daughter safe.
But everything changes when Adam Geraghty walks into her office. She’s never met this young man before – so why does she feel like she knows him?
Then Adam starts to tell her about a girl. A girl he wants to hurt.
And Susanna realises she was wrong.
She doesn’t know him.
BUT HE KNOWS HER.
AND THE GIRL HE PLANS TO HURT IS HER DAUGHTER…
The addictive new thriller with an ending you’ll never guess, The Liar’s Room is perfect for readers of Shari Lapena’s The Couple Next Door and A J Finn’s The Woman in the Window.
SIMON LELIC – THRILLERS TO KEEP YOU UP ALL NIGHT:
After reading THE NEW NEIGHBORS, I knew I wanted to read more by this author and was lucky, very lucky to receive an ARC.
…”the past has a way of catching up” pg.268
Susanna has escaped her past but her secrets are still hidden, or she thought until a new client has come in for counseling.
Secrets are revealed but with a price! A taut and intense read filled with tension as each page is turned!
I enjoyed this chilling tale!
Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Barnes & Noble 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗
Clara McNair is running out of time to save her son, James. When the two-year-old is diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer, only an experimental treatment can save his life. She desperately needs money to pay for the surgery, but she’ll have to travel back to the site of her darkest memories to get it.
Clara has escaped the demons of her youth—or so she thinks. It’s been ten years since the mysterious disappearance of her parents. Widely suspected of murdering her mother and father, Clara fled west to start a new life. Now, a documentary film crew is offering cold, hard cash—enough to pay for James’s treatment—in exchange for the sordid secrets of her past.
With no other choice but to delve into a long-ago tragedy, Clara must unravel the lies surrounding that terrible night. Facing hostile gossip, Clara is fighting to clear her name and learn the truth about what really happened. But how far will she go into the dark to save her son—and herself?
Book Details:
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Published by: Relay Publishing
AudioBook Release Date: April 23, 2018
AudioBook Length: 9 hrs and 59 mins
ISBN: 978-1979295420
Purchase Links: Amazon | Audible | Goodreads
Dense red clay was pushing between the teeth. Pond mist drifted across the manicured lawns, wisping through the dark eye sockets. Parts of the cranium were shaded a vile yellow-brown where decomposing leaves clung to its surface like bile expressed from a liver. The jawbone was separated from the skull, its curved row of teeth pointing skyward to greet the rising sun.
Two feet away, closer to the oak tree, other bones were piled haphazardly: a pelvis, high iliac crests and subpubic angle. A femur, caked with dirt, jammed into his empty skull. Sunlight decorated the brittle bones in long, lazy strips and darkened hairline fractures till they blended with the shed behind them.
It was peaceful here, mostly. The pond no longer bubbled, its aerator decayed by time; weed-clogged flowerbeds no longer bloomed—hands that once worked the land long ago dismissed. Fog blanketed the area, as if drawn by silence. Once, a startled shriek woke the morning doves and set them all into flight.
It was the first time in ten years the mammoth magnificence of the Blue Ridge Mountains had scrutinized these bones; the first song in a decade the morning doves chorused to them from their high perch.
A clatter split apart the dawn; the skull toppled over as it was struck with another bone.
In a clearing, tucked safely behind the McNair estate, someone was whistling as they worked at the earth. The notes were disjointed and haphazard, like they were an afterthought. They pierced the stillness and, overhead, one of the morning doves spooked and took flight, rustling leaves as it rose through the mist.
A shovel struck the wet ground, digging up clay and mulch, tossing it onto the growing mound to their left. The whistling stopped, mid note, and a contemplative hum took its place.
Light glinted on the silvery band in the exposed clay—the digger pocketed it—the shovel struck the ground again; this time, it clinked as it hit something solid.
Bone.
A hand dusted off decayed vegetative matter and wrested the bone from its tomb. Launching it into the air, it flew in a smooth arc, and crashed into the skull like a bowling pin, scattering the remains across the grass. With a grunt of satisfaction, the digger rose and started to refill the hole from the clay mound.
When it was filled and smoothed, and the sod was replaced over the disrupted ground, the digger lifted the shovel and strolled into the woods, one hand tucked in a pocket as they whistled a cheery tune lost to the morning fog.
***
Excerpt from A Mother’s Lie by Jo Crow. Copyright © 2017 by Jo Crow. Reproduced with permission from Jo Crow. All rights reserved.
Jo Crow gave ten years of her life to the corporate world of finance, rising to be one of the youngest VPs around. She carved writing time into her commute to the city, but never shared her stories, assuming they were too dark for any publishing house. But when a nosy publishing exec read the initial pages of her latest story over her shoulder, his albeit unsolicited advice made her think twice.
A month later, she took the leap, quit her job, and sat down for weeks with pen to paper. The words for her first manuscript just flew from her. Now she spends her days reading and writing, dreaming up new ideas for domestic noir fans, and drawing from her own experiences in the cut-throat commercial sector.
Not one to look back, Jo is all in, and can’t wait for her next book to begin.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
<
h3> </h3
Track star, Ashley Lambert, has just been accepted into the prestigious Johns Hopkins University, so when she jumps eighteen stories to her death her parents hire the PI team of Griff Cole and Britt Callahan to find out why. The investigation exposes a deeply disturbed family hiding behind a façade of perfection and follows Ashley’s descent into performance enhancing drugs and blackmail. Ashley’s coaches, peers and even her parents come into question. The disturbing truth behind Ashley’s death is testimony to lines crossed and allegiances sworn…. in the name of love.
Meanwhile, things don’t add up next door. Britt’s working overtime researching their new neighbors whose one-year-old son disappeared four years ago. Rhea McKenzie, has a secret and bruises aren’t the only thing she’s trying to hide. When an off-hand comment discloses a connection to Ashley Lambert the two cases become entwined, setting off an unstoppable chain of events. Britt is sucked into an alliance with Rhea and driven to make decisions that challenge her ethics, threaten her relationship and in the end, push her over a line she never thought she’d cross.
Book Details:
Genre: Thriller
Published by: Intrigue Publishing
Publication Date: September 1, 2018
Number of Pages: 194
ISBN: 978-1-940758-85-5
Series: Cole and Callahan #3
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Patricia Hale lives in Standish, ME with her husband. She is a graduate of the MFA program at Goddard College, a member of International Thriller Writers, Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance and the NH Writers Project. Scar Tissue is the third book in the Cole & Callahan thriller series. When the computer is off, you can find Patricia on the sideline of her grandsons’ sporting events or hiking the trails near her home with her German shepherd and one very bossy Beagle.
It’s hard to find things unknown about Britt, she’s not one to exercise discretion. But she does understand self-preservation and doesn’t always show her hand when it comes to her own insecurities. Truth be told, a childhood spent with dis-interested parents took its toll and left her forever feeling like she has something to prove, hoping someone will notice. So, she leaps before she looks and gets into things she shouldn’t… like the neighbors’ secrets in Scar Tissue.
But Griff understands her. Although he doesn’t always approve of her impulsivity, it’s one of the things about her that he loves. It keeps her interesting and nicely off-sets his careful, methodical approach to investigations and to life. If he could just make her give up her honey berry cigars their relationship would be damn near perfect. Even though everything about them seems to run in opposition. He’s mid-forties, she’s early thirties. He’s been married once, she panics at the “M” word. She’s mercurial, he’s grounded. What one lacks, the other offers. No wonder they work so well together.
What Griff hasn’t mentioned is that he wants a dog and a fleet of antique cars and the big one… someday he wants to live in St. John, Virgin Islands.
What Britt has neglected to mention is that she’ll never move from Maine. It’s home and where her sister, Amy, lives. Maine is her living, breathing security blanket.
And the big one is coming. Now that they own a house together, Griff’s ring shopping and planning a Christmas surprise.
But Britt finds Christmas depressing, filled only with memories of disappointment as a child. It’s a holiday she’d sooner forget than celebrate.
But so far, they’ve made it through a serial killer too close to home in, The Church of the Holy Child. A religious cult covering for a prostitution ring in, Durable Goods. And in Scar Tissue, Britt crosses a line that flies in the face of everything Griff stands for.
If they can weather those storms, I think they’ll make it through whatever I can throw at them. And at the end of the day we’ll see them munching Wheat Thins and smoked Gouda, washing it all down with a Pinot Grigio and Gritty’s Black Fly Stout.
“I don’t believe my daughter jumped. She wouldn’t have done that. I told the police, but they dismissed me. Evidently, they knew my daughter better than I did.”
“What’s your feeling on that, Mrs. Lambert?” I asked. Parents don’t always share perspectives on their children.
When she looked at me, her eyes were moist. She cradled the columbine in her palm. “Call me Gwen.”
I nodded.
“Ashley was a good girl. She worked very hard at everything she did.”
“She was the best, always. She made sure of it,” Greg chimed in.
Or else you did, I thought.
“It would have gone against her nature to jump off that building. It just wasn’t her way,” Gwen added.
“Her way?” Greg squinted at his wife, his face twisted in disgust as though studying an insect on flypaper. “What the hell does that mean?” He stood and walked around the circumference of our seating arrangement and then came back and took his chair again. “My girl did as she was told. And only what she was told.”
“It’s not always easy to tell a senior in college what to do,” I said. “At some point they start making their own choices even if some are ones their parents might not like.”
“Not my girl.” Greg shook his head, knocking my theory out of the park. Dismissed as impossible.
I couldn’t help but notice he kept referring to Ashley as my girl not our girl as though he’d created her, given birth and raised her throughout her short life singlehandedly. I didn’t like him. My assessment of Gwen was still up in the air, but she was wrapped so tight I couldn’t get a glimpse inside. It’s never easy to work for someone you don’t like, but Ashley’s case held the interest factor. Why had this seemingly perfect child jumped to her death?
“She was a star athlete at the top of her class and a week from graduation,” Greg continued. “She’d been accepted at Johns Hopkins Berman Institute for Bioethics. And you’re telling me that’s a kid who makes bad decisions? I don’t think so, Ms. Callahan.”
Okay, he shut me up. (A momentary lull.)
“Mr. Lambert,” Griff spoke up. “I have a daughter. I can’t imagine what you must be going through dealing with all this. What is it you think we can do for you?”
“I told the police and the medical examiner that my daughter wouldn’t take her own life. Cops shook their heads, said it wasn’t their call to make. The medical examiner said it presented as a cut and dried suicide.”
“And what do you say, Mr. Lambert?”
“My daughter was murdered.”
I glanced at Gwen. “Do you agree, Mrs. Lambert?”
She raised her eyes, glanced at her husband and then to me. “I’m not convinced, but I do agree that suicide doesn’t fit with who my daughter was.”
Griff kept his focus on Greg. “What makes you think someone would have killed your daughter? Did she have enemies that you’re aware of?”
“No, no enemies that I know of, but her jumping makes no sense. She had everything going for her and absolutely no reason to end her life. She would never have done that to me.”
Strike two. The selfish bastard assumed his daughter’s tragic death had more to do with him than whatever had driven her to that fateful state of mind. “Suicide is about what’s going on within the person themselves,” I said trying not to let my voice betray my disgust. “I doubt Ashley was consciously doing anything to you at the moment she jumped. If she jumped.”
“She knew the goals we’d set,” he said dismissing my remark. “And she had every intention of attaining them.”
“Goals?” I asked.
“Johns Hopkins, her PhD, an Olympic gold medal.”
“Had she been accepted to compete in the Olympics?” Griff asked.
“It was in the works,” he said annunciating each word as though we were hard of hearing.
“Did you let the medical examiner know how you felt?”
“Of course, I did.”
“And was an autopsy performed?”
Greg Lambert glanced at his wife. She looked away. Touchy subject, I gathered.
“Useless,” he said. “They found nothing.” He turned to Gwen. “Go get my checkbook.”
She rose and disappeared inside the house without a word, still holding the columbine in her hand.
I caught Griff’s eye and he raised his eyebrows as though asking, should we?
“Look Mr. Lambert,” he said. “Britt and I like to discuss a case before we commit to it. We want to feel some degree of surety that we can help you before money changes hands and we sign a contract. Give us time to talk it over and we’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
Gwen reappeared holding a large, black-spiraled checkbook. Greg took it from her along with the pen she offered and flipped open the front of the book. He looked at Griff. “How much do you want?” he asked.
“Mr. Lambert, I…” Griff started.
“We’ll give you the information you need to get started. I don’t have any doubt you’ll see it my way. What’s the retainer?” He held the pen poised over the checkbook.
“Five thousand,” Griff said.
I thought that was a little high. He must be thinking about the pool we wanted to install.
“And a list of names. Professors, coaches and friends,” he added.
Greg pointed to his wife. “Put that together.”
Dismissed, Gwen went inside to gather what we needed.
Once we had the necessary information from Gwen, and Greg’s check was folded inside Griff’s pocket, Carole stepped onto the deck and offered to show us out.
“We’ll be in touch,” Griff said. He stood extending a hand toward Greg.
Greg Lambert rose from his chair and placed his hands on his hips. “When?”
“As soon as I have something to tell you,” Griff said lowering his arm.
Griff’s ability to come off unfazed by blatant rude behavior is beyond me. I couldn’t get off that porch fast enough. If I’d lingered I would have placed a well-directed snap kick to Greg Lambert’s groin.
We followed Carole to the front door. She swung it wide and stepped with us outside then pulled the door closed behind her. On the front step she glanced from one of us to the other then dropped her head and stared at the granite, clearly trying to make up her mind. We waited. When she looked up she extended her arm toward Griff as though intending to shake.
“Look,” she said. “I’m probably way out of line here and dipshit in there will have me banned if he knows I’m talking to you. I’m already on probation around here so whatever I say stays between us, all right?”
Griff nodded and reached for her hand, keeping his eyes on her face.
She slipped a folded piece of paper into his palm. “I’m Carole Weston, Gwen’s sister. Call me,” she said. “There’s more to this. A lot more.”
***
Excerpt from Scar Tissue by Patricia Hale. Copyright © 2018 by Patricia Hale. Reproduced with permission from Patricia Hale. All rights reserved.
Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
