You Should Write a Mystery, She Said @Anasleuth

USA Today and Amazon bestselling and award-winning author Lois Winston writes mystery, romance, romantic suspense, chick lit, women’s fiction, children’s chapter books, and nonfiction under her own name and her Emma Carlyle pen name. Kirkus Reviews dubbed her critically acclaimed Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series, “North Jersey’s more mature answer to Stephanie Plum.” In addition, Lois is a former literary agent and an award-winning craft and needlework designer who often draws much of her source material for both her characters and plots from her experiences in the crafts industry.

Website: http://www.loiswinston.com

Newsletter sign-up: https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z1z1u5

Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers blog: http://www.anastasiapollack.blogspot.com

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/anasleuth

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Anasleuth

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/722763.Lois_Winston

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lois-winston

When the writing bug first hit me, I was infected with a romance strain. Romance and romantic suspense plots flew from my fingers into my computer. Some even won awards and were eventually published. However, I found myself chafing at the confines of the genre because I was far more interested in plot driven stories than the heat between the hero and heroine.

This led me to try my hand at what was then called chick lit. Today that genre designation is the kiss of death in the publishing world, but authors are still writing it, and readers are still buying it. We just call it women’s fiction now, or in my case, humorous women’s fiction, because along the way, I discovered I have a knack for writing funny. Who knew? I’m the girl who can never remember the punch line to any joke!

Then one day seventeen years ago, my agent was talking to an editor who was looking for a new crafting mystery series. Way back before I ever started writing, I earned a living as a designer of crafts and needlework projects for magazines, book publishers, and kit manufacturers. My agent knew this. So she called one day and suggested I try my hand at writing a crafting-themed cozy mystery.

I have no idea why I never thought to write mysteries prior to that phone call. Not only am I a TV crime-show junkie, but crime solving is in my DNA. As the Captain of the largest county police force in New Jersey, my grandfather was responsible for bringing down many mobsters and other killers back in the twenties, thirties, forties, and fifties of the last century.

Not only that, but I grew up going to school with an assortment of Mafia princes and princesses. As a kid, I often lurked in dark corners or with my ear pressed up to a closed door, eavesdropping on family conversations when I was supposed to be outdoors. It wasn’t until years later that I was able to piece together snatches of those conversations and fully understand their import—like the fact that some of my classmates had relatives who were “made men” or my grandfather had a brother who was a bootlegger in Atlantic City.

I’m sure my great-uncle, whom I never met, posed a huge problem for my grandfather. He was a man so incredibly honest that he consistently refused to run for mayor of Newark when pressed. He said politics was too corrupting and he wanted no part of it.

My agent’s suggestion all those years ago sparked the birth of Anastasia Pollack, the amateur sleuth of my eponymous Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery Series. The tenth book in the series, Stitch, Bake, Die!, recently released. And it all began with a conversation between two publishing professionals and memories from an eavesdropping childhood.

Do you have ancestors who would make interesting characters in a mystery?

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Stitch, Bake, Die!

An Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery, Book 10

With massive debt, a communist mother-in-law, a Shakespeare-quoting parrot, and a photojournalist boyfriend who may or may not be a spy, crafts editor Anastasia Pollack already juggles too much in her life. So she’s not thrilled when her magazine volunteers her to present workshops and judge a needlework contest at the inaugural conference of the New Jersey chapter of the Stitch and Bake Society, a national organization of retired professional women. At least her best friend and cooking editor Cloris McWerther has also been roped into similar duties for the culinary side of the 3-day event taking place on the grounds of the exclusive Beckwith Chateau Country Club.

The sweet little old ladies Anastasia is expecting to meet are definitely old, and some of them are little, but all are anything but sweet. She’s stepped into a vipers’ den that starts with bribery and ends with murder. When an ice storm forces Anastasia and Cloris to spend the night at the Chateau, Anastasia discovers evidence of insurance scams, medical fraud, an opioid ring, long-buried family secrets, and a bevy of suspects.

Can she piece together the various clues before she becomes the killer’s next target?

Crafting tips included.

Buy Links

Paperback https://amzn.to/2YiodcR

Kindle https://amzn.to/3ylMivw

Apple Books https://books.apple.com/us/book/stitch-bake-die/id1582066729

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/stitch-bake-die

Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stitch-bake-die-lois-winston/1140036766;jsessionid=25A7F9659AD9C525D5EAB0BECCEA6D09.prodny_store02-atgap06?ean=2940162610267

When Ghosts Come Home by Wiley Cash

It’s that ghostly time of year and, if Brenda and
her pooch, Penny, recommend this newest
Wiley Cash, who am I to resist?

Traveling Sisters Book Reviews

Hot Dang!!! Wiley Cash is one fantastic storyteller, and I have loved all his books. He has changed things up a bit by adding a crime and mystery with When Ghosts Come Home and delivers us a gem of a tender, compassionate heart-tugging story about family, love, loss, community, duty, justice, and racial divides.

What I loved

The sense of time and place created in the story
A rare hero with 63- year-old Sheriff Winston Barnes who is trying to find out who abandoned a cargo plane at a local airfield and killed a man whose body is found nearby.
Easy to read, compelling, suspenseful story with many layers to it
The memorable and shocking ending I am sure no one would see coming and left me questioning whether I like what happened or not.

I highly recommend it!!

I received a copy from the publisher on EW.

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Book Review: Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning @MickiBrowning @crookedlanebks @partnersincr1me

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Mercy Creek

by M.E. Browning

October 11 – November 5, 2021 Tour

Synopsis

In an idyllic Colorado town, a young girl goes missing—and the trail leads into the heart and mind of a remorseless killer.

The late summer heat in Echo Valley, Colorado turns lush greenery into a tinder dry landscape. When a young girl mysteriously disappears, long buried grudges rekindle. Of the two Flores girls, Marisa was the one people pegged for trouble. Her younger sister, Lena, was the quiet daughter, dutiful and diligent—right until the moment she vanished.

Detective Jo Wyatt is convinced the eleven-year-old girl didn’t run away and that a more sinister reason lurks behind her disappearance. For Jo, the case is personal, reaching far back into her past. But as she mines Lena’s fractured family life, she unearths a cache of secrets and half-lies that paints a darker picture.

As the evidence mounts, so do the suspects, and when a witness steps forward with a shocking new revelation, Jo is forced to confront her doubts, and her worst fears. Now, it’s just a matter of time before the truth is revealed—or the killer makes another deadly move.

Purchase Links:
Penguin Random House // Barnes & Noble // Indiebound // Amazon

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Mercy Creek
A Jo Wyatt Mystery, Book 2
M.E. Browning
Crooked Lane Books, October 2021
ISBN 978-1-64385-762-6
Hardcover

A missing child is guaranteed to cause all sorts of heartache and that’s certainly borne out in Mercy Creek. Police procedurals come in all shapes and sizes but, to my way of thinking, the most effective are those that allow the reader into the characters’ psyches. Ms. Browning does this quite well but then takes us further by giving us a compelling plot.

Red herrings abound here and I was repeatedly led down a garden path, so to speak, a very positive effect for me. No matter what kind of mystery I’m reading, it’s the puzzle that draws me in, the hunt for the truth, and this author kept me guessing, not only about what happened to Lena but also about the psychology behind the crime and the dysfunction of some of the characters (actually, almost everyone, Jo included, to some extent).
 
Bottomline, this is a nicely crafted detective tale and my only quibble is that I think I might have understood Jo a bit better if I had read the first book. Guess I’ll have to remedy that now 😉
 
Reviewed by Lelia Taylor, October 2021.

 

An Excerpt from Mercy Creek

Chapter One

Everyone had a story from that night. Some saw a man, others saw a girl, still others saw nothing at all but didn’t want to squander the opportunity to be part of something larger than themselves. To varying degrees, they were all wrong. Only two people knew the full truth. That Saturday, visitors to the county fair clustered in the dappled shade cast by carnival rides and rested on hay bales scattered like afterthoughts between games of chance and food booths, the soles of their shoes sticky with ice cream drips and spilled sodas. Detective Jo Wyatt stepped into the shadow of the Hall of Mirrors to watch the crowd. She grabbed the collar of her uniform and pumped it a few times in a futile attempt to push cooler air between her ballistic vest and sweat-sodden T-shirt. The Echo Valley Fair marked the end of summer, but even now, as the relentless Colorado sun dipped, heat rose in waves around bare ankles and stroller wheels as families retreated toward the parking lots. An older crowd began to creep in, prowling the midway. The beer garden overflowed. Within minutes the sun dropped behind the valley walls and the fairground lights flickered to life, their wan orange glow a beacon to moths confused by the strobing brightness of rides and games. Calliope music and the midway’s technopop collided in a crazed mishmash of notes so loud they echoed in Jo’s chest. She raised the volume of her radio. The day shift officers had clocked out having handled nothing more pressing than a man locked out of his car and an allegation of unfair judging flung by the second-place winner of the bake-off. Jo gauged the teeming crowd of unfamiliar faces. Tonight would be different. # Carnival music was creepy, Lena decided. Each ride had its own weird tune and it all seemed to crash against her with equal force, following her no matter where she went. The guys in the booths were louder than they had been earlier, more aggressive, calling out, trying to get her to part with her tickets. Some of the guys roamed, jumping out at people, flicking cards and making jokes she didn’t understand while smiling at her older sister. Marisa tossed her hair. Smiled back. Sometimes they let her play for free. “Let’s go back to the livestock pavilion,” Lena said. “Quit being such a baby.” Marisa glanced over her shoulder at the guy running the shooting gallery booth and tossed her hair. Again. Lena rolled her eyes and wondered how long it would be before her sister ditched her. “Hold up a sec.” Marisa tugged at the hem of her skintight skirt and flopped down on a hay bale. She’d been wearing pants when they’d left the house. The big purse she always carried probably hid an entire wardrobe Momma knew nothing about. Lena wondered if the missing key to grandma’s car was tucked in there too. Marisa unzipped one of her boots and pulled up her thin sock. Lena pointed. “What happened to the bottom of your boot?” Her sister ran her finger along the arch. “I painted it red.” “Why?” “It makes them more valuable.” “Since when does coloring the bottom of your shoes make them more valuable?” Marisa’s eyes lit up in a way that happened whenever she spoke about clothes or how she was going to hit it big in Hollywood someday. “In Paris there’s this guy who designs shoes and all of them have red soles. He’s the only one allowed to do that. It’s his thing.” “But he didn’t make those boots.” “All the famous women wear his shoes.” She waved to someone in the crowd. “You’re not famous and you bought them at Payless.” “What do you know about fashion?” “I know enough not to paint the bottom of my boots to make them look like someone else made them.” Marisa shoved her foot into her boot and yanked the zipper closed. “You bought your boots from the co-op.” She handed Lena her cell phone. “You should have bought yours there, too.” Lena dutifully pointed the lens at her sister. “Take a couple this time.” Marisa leaned back on her hands and arched her back, her hair nearly brushing the hay bale, and the expression on her face pouty like the girls in the magazines she was always looking at. Lena snapped several photos and held out the phone. “All those high heels are good for is punching holes in the ground.” “Oh, Lena.” Marisa’s voice dropped as if she was sharing a secret. “If you ever looked up from your animals long enough, you’d see there’s so much more to the world.” Her thumbs rapidly tapped the tiny keyboard of her phone. In the center of the midway, a carnival guy held a long-handled mallet and called out to people as they passed by. He was older—somewhere in his twenties—and wore a tank top. Green and blue tattoos covered his arms and his biceps bulged as he pointed the oversized hammer at the tower behind him. It looked like a giant thermometer with numbers running along one edge, and High Striker spelled out on the other. “Come on, men. There’s no easier way to impress the ladies.” He grabbed the mallet and tapped the plate. “You just have to find the proper motivation if you want to get it up…” He pointed with his chin to the top of the game and paused dramatically. “There.” He craned his neck and leered at Marisa. Lena wondered if he was looking up her sister’s skirt. “What happens later is up to you.” Never breaking eye contact, he took a mighty swing. The puck raced up the tower, setting off a rainbow of lights and whistles before it smashed into the bell at the top. He winked in their direction. “Score.” Twenty minutes later, Marisa was gone. # Lena gave up looking for her sister and returned to the livestock pavilion. Marisa could keep her music and crowds and stupid friends. Only a few people still wandered around the dimly lit livestock pavilion. The fireworks would start soon and most people headed for the excitement outside, a world away from the comforting sound of animals snuffling and pawing at their bedding. Marisa was probably hanging out near the river with her friends, drinking beer. Maybe smoking a cigarette or even a joint. Doing things she didn’t think her baby sister knew about. Lena walked through an aisle stacked with poultry and rabbit cages. The pens holding goats, swine, and sheep took up the middle. At the back of the pavilion stretched a long row of three-sided cattle stalls. The smells of straw, grain, and animals replaced the gross smell of deep-fried candy bars and churros that had clogged her throat on the midway. Near the end of the row, Lena stopped. “Hey there, Bluebell.” Technically, he was number twenty-four, like his ear tag said. Her father didn’t believe in naming livestock, but to her, he’d always be Bluebell—even after she sold him at the auction to be slaughtered. Just because that was his fate didn’t mean he shouldn’t have a name to be remembered by. She remembered them all. She patted his hip and slid her hand along his spine so he wouldn’t shy as she moved into the stall. She double-checked the halter, pausing to scratch his forehead. A piece of straw swirled in his water bucket and she fished it out. The cold water cooled her hot skin. “You did good today. Sorry I won’t be spending the night with you, but Papa got called out to Dawson’s ranch to stitch up some mare.” He swished his tail and it struck the rail with a metallic ring. “Don’t get yourself all riled. I’ll be back tomorrow before you know it.” If she hadn’t been showing Bluebell this afternoon, she’d have gone with her father. Her sutures had really improved this summer and were almost as neat as his. No one would guess they’d been made by an eleven-year-old. If nothing else, she could have helped keep the horse calm. Instead, she’d go home with Marisa and spend the night at Momma’s. She wondered if Marisa would show up before the 4-H leader called lights out in the pavilion or if Lena would have to walk to her mom’s house by herself in the dark. She reached down and jiggled the feed pan to smooth out the grain that Bluebell had pushed to the edges. “That’s some cow.” The male voice startled them both and Bluebell stomped his rear hoof. Lena peered over the Hereford’s withers. At first all she saw were the tattoos. An ugly monster head with a gaping mouth and snake tongue seem to snap at her. It was the carny from the High Striker standing at the edge of the stall. “It’s a steer,” she stuttered. “And my sister isn’t here.” “Not your sister I wanted to talk to.” He swayed a bit as he moved into the stall, like when her mother drank too much wine and tried to hide it. Lena ducked under Bluebell’s throat and came up on the other side. She looked around the pavilion, now empty of people. “Suspect they’re all out waiting on the fireworks,” he said. The first boom echoed through the space. Several sheep bleated their disapproval and Bluebell jerked against his halter. “Shhhh, now.” Lena reached her hand down and scratched his chest. “All that racket’s just some stupid fireworks.” “Nothing to worry about,” the man added. He had the same look in his eyes that Papa’s border collie got right before he cut off the escape route of a runaway cow. A bigger boom thundered through the pavilion. Halter clips clanged against the rails as uneasy cattle shuffled in their stalls. Her own legs shook as she sidled toward Bluebell’s rear. He matched her steps. “What’s a little thing like you doing in here all by yourself?” “My father will be back any minute.” Her voice shook. He smiled, baring his teeth. “I’ll be sure to introduce myself when he arrives.” A series of explosions, sharp as gunfire, erupted outside. Somewhere a cow lowed. Several more joined in, their voices pitiful with fear. “You’re upsetting my steer. You need to leave.” “Oh, your cow’s just fine. I think it’s you that’s scared.” He spoke with the same low voice that Lena used with injured animals. The one she used right before she did something she knew would hurt but had to be done. “You’re a pretty little thing,” he crooned. “Nice and quiet.” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She stood frozen. A warm trickle started down her leg, and the wet spot expanded on her jeans. He edged closer. “I like them quiet.” # Jo ran. The suspect veered off the sidewalk and slid down the hillside toward the creek. She plunged off the side of the embankment, sliding through dirt and duff, closing the distance. She keyed her shoulder mic. “Entering the creek, heading west toward the Animas. I need someone on the River Trail.” Narrow-leaf cottonwood and willows shimmered silver in the moonlight and wove a thicket of branches along the water, herding the suspect toward the cobbled stream bed. Jo splashed into the ankle-deep water. Close enough now to almost touch. Her lungs burned. With a final burst of speed, she lunged. Shoved his shoulder while he was mid-stride. The man sprawled into the creek. Rolled onto his feet with a bellow. A knife in his hand. Without thinking, she’d drawn her gun. “Drop it!” Flashlight beams sliced the foliage. Snapping branches and crashing footsteps marked the other officers’ progress as they neared. Estes shouted Jo’s name. Her eyes never left the man standing just feet away. “Over here!” She focused on the man’s shoulder, watching for the twitch that would telegraph his intentions. “You need to drop the knife. Now.” Her voice rose above the burble of the stream. “Or things are going to get a whole lot worse for you tonight.” She shifted her weight to her front leg and carefully shuffled her rear foot until she found firmer footing and settled into a more stable shooting stance. “Drop the knife.” She aimed center mass. Drew a deep breath, willed her heart to slow. The knife splashed into the creek near the bank. “On your right.” Estes broke through the brush beside her. “Get down on your knees,” Jo ordered. “Hands behind your head.” “It’s my friend’s truck,” the man said. Jo holstered her gun and moved forward while Estes covered her. She gripped his fingers and bowed the suspect backward, keeping him off balance while she searched him for weapons, then cuffed him. “Not according to the owner.” She double-locked the cuffs while Estes radioed dispatch they had one in custody. An explosion above the treetops made Jo flinch. Fireworks slashed the darkness and burst into balls of purple and green and dazzling white that sparkled briefly, then disappeared. *** Excerpt from Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning. Copyright 2021 by M.E. Browning. Reproduced with permission from M.E. Browning. All rights reserved.

 

About the Author

M.E. Browning writes the Colorado Book Award-winning Jo Wyatt Mysteries and the Agatha-nominated and award-winning Mer Cavallo Mysteries (as Micki Browning). Micki also writes short stories and nonfiction. Her work has appeared in dive magazines, anthologies, mystery magazines, and textbooks. An FBI National Academy graduate, Micki worked in municipal law enforcement for more than two decades and retired as a captain before turning to a life of crime… fiction.

Catch Up With M.E. Browning:

MEBrowning.com // Goodreads // BookBub // Instagram – @mickibrowning
// Twitter – @MickiBrowning // Facebook – @MickiBrowningAuthor

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Giveaway

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for M.E. Browning. There will be TWO winners. ONE winner will receive (1) Amazon.com Gift Card and ONE winner will receive one (1) physical copy of Mercy Creek by M.E. Browning (U.S. addresses only). The giveaway runs October 11 through November 7, 2021. Void where prohibited.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Book Review: Booking the Crook by Laurie Cass

Booking the Crook
A Bookmobile Cat Mystery #7
Laurie Cass
Berkley Prime Crime, July 2019
ISBN 978-0-440-00098-3
Mass  Market Paperback

Minnie Hamilton, along with her cat Eddie, works on the library’s bookmobile. There’s a new library director, and a new library board president, and they are asking questions about the library and not including Minnie in the meetings. Is her job being eliminated?

Chilson, Michigan, is a tourist town in the northwest part of the state, and the library is busy during the summer. Minnie discovers one of her customers dead in their driveway. Rowan, a married woman with two college age children, is discovered to have been poisoned. The victim, although well-liked, has crossed swords with the village board members about property development. Rowan’s daughter has broken up with her boyfriend—is he looking for revenge? Her husband has been distant lately—could he have wanted his wife dead?

An engaging cozy mystery in a pleasant setting, with a surprising twist at the end. Seventh in the Bookmobile Cat mystery series.

Reviewed by Susan Belsky, September 2021.

Book Review: They Stay by Claire Fraise @XpressoTours

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Title: They Stay
Series: They Stay #1
Author: Claire Fraise
Publisher: Sabertooth Press
Publication date: October 12, 2021
Genres: Dark Fantasy/Mystery, Thriller, Young Adult

Purchase Links:
Barnes & Noble // Kobo // Amazon // Indiebound

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They Stay
They Stay #1
Claire Fraise
Sabertooth Press, October 2021
ISBN 978-1-7372253-0-0
Trade Paperback

From the author—

For fans of Stranger Things comes a suspenseful YA mystery about a missing kid, a girl who can see ghosts, and a horrifying crime only four outcasts have the power to stop.

What if the only person who could help you find your missing brother was dead?

Nothing is as important to sixteen-year-old Shiloh Oleson as her little brother Max. So when the six-year-old goes missing without a trace, a heartbroken Shiloh refuses to believe nothing can be done and sets out to find him.

When one of Shiloh’s classmates says she knows where Max is, Shiloh hesitates to believe her. Francesca is creepy. She says she can see ghosts, but everyone knows ghosts aren’t real … right?

But Francesca says that Max is going to be murdered.

And a ghost told her where he is.

As the line between the dead and living begins to blur, Shiloh starts to think Francesca might not be as crazy as she believed. One thing is becoming clear. Someone has gruesome plans for Max, and Shiloh must confront her worst nightmares to find him before it’s too late.

THEY STAY is the first book in the They Stay Series. Read on if you like ghost stories, plot twists, enemies-to-friends, creepy circuses, budding romance, and unlikely heroes.

Content Warnings: This book contains death, kidnapping, domestic abuse, references to suicide, bullying, and mild adult language.

There’s nothing really new about the premise of this story—after all, there are a limited number of plots out there—so it’s incumbent upon the author to make her specific tale interesting and appealing to readers. Ms. Fraise has done this quite nicely, particularly in her evocation of emotional attachments between the reader and various characters as well as emotional tension.

I think my favorite element of this book is that of Francesca being able to see ghosts and interpret their actions but the developing friendship, if that’s what it really is, between Francesca and Shiloh is truly intriguing and I’m interested to see where things go with this relationship.

Although I’m decidedly not a fan of first person present tense, especially in a mystery, I enjoyed They Stay and will look forward to the next installment of the series.

Reviewed by Lelia Taylor, October 2021.

About the Author

Claire Fraise earned her B.A. in English from Tufts University. She is also the author of YA dystopian novel Imperfect (winner of the San Francisco and Beverly Hills Book Festivals), which she published when she was 16. When Claire’s not writing, she likes crocheting amigurumi animals, reading, and hanging out with her dogs. Even though it goes against every introverted bone in her body, she is on social media. Connect with her on Instagram at @clairefraiseauthor, on YouTube at Write with Claire Fraise, or visit her website at clairefraise.com.

Author links:

Website // Instagram // Facebook // YouTube // Pinterest // Goodreads

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GIVEAWAY!

A copy of They Stay

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Book Review: Thunder Peak by Trae Stratton @StrattonTrae

Thunder Peak
Tamm Chronicles, Book 1
Trae Stratton
Trae Stratton, August 2021
ISBN 979-8555928115
Trade Paperback

Casey heard spooky stories, speculations, of life in the shadow of Thunder Peak. She felt the strangeness in Storm Town’s atmosphere. And, of course, Jonas had been hinting at it her entire life. Urging her to come to him if she sees something…unusual.

What she just witnessed was not “unusual”. It was beyond bizarre.

Or, perhaps a herd of phantom horses was precisely what Jonas meant.

The time has come for Casey to hear the true story of her birth. More a narrative of what she is, rather than who, it helps Casey understand those around her better. The shell warrior, Taliko, is not an old friend of her father’s…at least, not exactly.

Portals between Earther and a whole other realm are fact, not fiction. The Tyndryn Trailway is the most treasured resource of the aril and they are prepared to use all of their magic to ensure that humans are never able to activate these doorways. Thus, putting Casey into a predicament.

Starfall, the steed that saved her, now needs her help to get home. Anxious to assist the colt in time, Casey must figure out how to access the transportation system. Then, how to allow Starfall through, but keep the malicious magic out.

Thunder Peak: Tamm Chronicles is an immediately engaging Young Adult fantasy-adventure. While the worlds within encourage imagination, even the nonhuman characters display realistic flaws and opportunities for self-improvement and growth. I thought these characters clicked and their story was stellar.

Of course, I cannot wait to introduce this treasure to “my” students.

This review was written by jv poore for Buried Under Books,
with a huge “Thank You!” to the author for donating
ARCs to my favorite classroom libraries.

Reviewed by jv poore, June 2021.

Book Review: Unheard: The Story of Anna Winslow

I’d rather listen to an audiobook than read in any other way so you’d think podcasts about crime, fictional or not, would be right up my alley. Truth is, I’ve avoided podcasts mainly because I prefer having access to the entire book, not one episode at a time. Now, thanks to this review, I know I can actually try a podcast all in one audiobook—best of both worlds! Thank you, Christine 😄

Stine Writing

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Unheard: The Story of Anna Winslow by Anthony Del Col is an eight part podcast produced by a student for a college course, the topic chosen solely based on one vague voicemail message and the questions it raised.

Melissa Lopez is studying linguistics and journalism and has decided that the voicemail left on her phone is in fact from missing student, Anna Winslow. Missing turns into a case of murder when Anna’s body is found in the woods. Each session of Melissa’s podcast has clips of the actual voice messages Anna has left her and a few fellow students. But no one really knew Anna, so why the voicemails and why is she dead? Melissa wants to find out and becomes so entangled in the story she actually becomes a suspect herself, asking questions that no one that never knew Anna should even care about, unless they killed her and…

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