Book Review: Striking Range by Margaret Mizushima @margmizu @crookedlanebks

Striking Range
A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery #7
Margaret Mizushima
Crooked Lane Books, September 2021
ISBN: 978-64385-746-6
Hardcover

Margaret Mizushima’s Timber Creek K-9 mystery series is one of my favorites and always on my MUST READ list. I wish we could get more than one a year! Striking Range is #7, and the stories just keep getting better, with more character development and expansive plots.

Mattie Cobb, Timber Creek K-9 Deputy, has been investigating her own sad background, and after almost being murdered believes she can finally get some answers. Her dog, Robo, trained in drug detection, tracking, and smart enough to do almost anything, is her crime-fighting, always-got-your-back partner.

Mattie is about to enter the Colorado state prison to question a prisoner when the place goes on lock-down and the man she was to meet is murdered. Her last chance at finding answers appears gone unless she can find another lead.

Saddened, she returns home where Cole Walker, who is the local veterinarian and Mattie’s special guy, is about to deliver a female who is bearing Robo’s first litter of puppies. A young, very pregnant woman brings in her dog. A few days later the woman is found dead, murdered, but there is no trace of the missing newborn.

What follows is a race to find the baby and catch the mother’s murderer.

Excellent action, realistic characters, and a fine blending of the lives of a veterinarian and a K-9 cop will keep you reading. In every book the reader learns something that pertains to the work involved in each profession. Fascinating reading. And while I guessed who the bad guy was right off the bat, it didn’t detract in the slightest from my enjoyment of the story and reading about Mattie, Robo, Cole, and the rest of the gang.

Reviewed by Carol Crigger, November 2021.
http://www.ckcrigger.com
Author of The Woman Who Built A Bridge (Spur Award Winner), Yester’s Ride,
Hometown Burning and Six Dancing Damsels: A China Bohannon Mystery

Book Review: The Art of Betrayal by Connie Berry @conniecberry @crookedlanebks

The Art of Betrayal
A Kate Hamilton Mystery #3
Connie Berry
Crooked Lane Books, June 2021
ISBN 978-1-64385-594-3
Hardcover

Here’s a long, carefully constructed mystery that becomes more and more involving as it develops. By the time readers reach the high level action two-thirds along, the narrative has a firm grip. The questions raised beg to be answered and the relationships, particularly between the two principals, Tom and Kate, our narrator, will not let us go.

Kate Hamilton, American antiques dealer is in Suffolk, enjoying time with her new love, Detective Inspector, Tom Mallory. While he works, Kate spends time helping out in a local antique shop. When an older woman brings her a startlingly important and valuable piece of Chinese ceramic, Kate’s instincts shift abruptly to high alert.

Murder, connected to a local spring fair and to events almost twenty years in the past, rise, tangle and provide both answers and murky fog. Both Kate and Tom are soon mired in the increasingly complex case. Who is the old woman? Why was she murdered? What, if anything, does an obscure ancient Anglo-Saxon phrase have to do with the case, and why does a white lotus petal appear on the floor of the breached Antique shop?

The number of interesting and useful characters are very well managed, the pace develops slowly to a surprisingly tense climax and the author’s handling of many details is professional, accurate and satisfying. Betrayals occur in many large and small contexts in the lives of the characters, all precisely handled and satisfying. An outstanding, well-designed mystery is properly resolved and leaves the reader with pleasure at recognition of having experienced a fine piece of literature and a cracking good mystery.

Reviewed by Carl Brookins, August 2021.
http://www.carlbrookins.com http://agora2.blogspot.com
Traces, Grand Lac, Sins of Edom, Red Sky.

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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Follow the tour here.

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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: The Last Exit by Michael Kaufman—and a Giveaway! @KaufmanWrites @crookedlanebks

The Last Exit
A Jen Lu Mystery #1
Michael Kaufman
Crooked Lane Books, January 2021
ISBN 978-1-64385-567-7
Hardcover

Set in the future, Jen Lu is a Washington D.C. detective with a synth implant named Chandler residing in her neocortex. She is able to turn Chandler off at will, but is not supposed to when on duty. With a population grown out of control and limited resources and space for everyone, people over sixty-five are required to exit (die) so their children may live—as long as they can pay for an expensive longevity treatment.

One evening, Jen and Chandler are called to a stand-off between parents and child because the parents refuse to “exit” at their son’s demand.  A shoot-out occurs, with the mother’s last words something about going to Eden.

Jen’s investigation turns up a cheaper source for the treatment and the term “Eden” is mentioned, but reports are coming in of many people dying. When her supervisor calls her off the case, suspicions grow of something hinky going on, which involves people in government, law enforcement, and of course, highest society.

Determined to get to the bottom of it, especially after Chandler is turned off and Jen fired, Jen’s own life and hope for longevity is put in jeopardy as she follows a money trail. Only the presence of her former cop partner, her boyfriend, and Chandler’s power, can help put things right.

Excellent world-building, entirely plausible—and more than a bit scary. Fine writing and interesting characters make Mr. Kaufman most definitely a writer to watch.

Reviewed by Carol Crigger, August 2021.
http://www.ckcrigger.com
Author of The Woman Who Built A Bridge (Spur Award Winner), Yester’s Ride,
Hometown Burning and Six Dancing Damsels: A China Bohannon Mystery

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Giveaway

To enter the drawing for a print copy of
The Last Exit, leave a comment
below. The winning name will be drawn
on the evening of Sunday, August 22nd.
US and Canada entrants only.

Book Review: Silence in the Library by Katharine Schellman @katharinewrites @crookedlanebks @partnersincr1me

Silence in the Library

by Katharine Schellman

July 12 – August 6, 2021 Tour

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Silence in the Library
A Lily Adler Mystery #2
Katharine Schellman
Crooked Lane Books, July 2021
ISBN 978-1-64385-704-6
Hardcover

From the publisher—

Regency widow Lily Adler didn’t expect to find a corpse when visiting a family friend. Now it’s up to her to discover the killer in the charming second installment in the Lily Adler mysteries.

Regency widow Lily Adler has finally settled into her new London life when her semi-estranged father arrives unexpectedly, intending to stay with her while he recovers from an illness. Hounded by his disapproval, Lily is drawn into spending time with Lady Wyatt, the new wife of an old family friend. Lily barely knows Lady Wyatt. But she and her husband, Sir Charles, seem as happy as any newly married couple until the morning Lily arrives to find the house in an uproar and Sir Charles dead.

All signs indicate that he tripped and struck his head late at night. But when Bow Street constable Simon Page is called to the scene, he suspects foul play. And it isn’t long before Lily stumbles on evidence that Sir Charles was, indeed, murdered.

Mr. Page was there when Lily caught her first murderer, and he trusts her insight into the world of London’s upper class. With the help of Captain Jack Hartley, they piece together the reasons that Sir Charles’s family might have wanted him dead. But anyone who might have profited from the old man’s death seems to have an alibi… until Lily receives a mysterious summons to speak with one of the Wyatts’ maids, only to find the young woman dead when she arrives.

Mr. Page believes the surviving family members are hiding the key to the death of both Sir Charles and the maid. To uncover the truth, Lily must convince the father who doesn’t trust or respect her to help catch his friend’s killer before anyone else in the Wyatt household dies.

Regency England has long been a favorite setting for many readers, myself included, of historical fiction, mystery, romance, even the occasional fantasy or science fiction. Why the period is so appealing I’m not sure unless, for some peculiar reason, it’s because it evokes a lofty ideal of gentility but that doesn’t really work because we also see the darker side of the times, the poverty, the class oppression. Whatever the attraction, I just know that I truly enjoy it and I was very happy to be introduced to this series.

The widowed Lily Adler is a young woman of substantial means which is the only reason she can maintain her single female lifestyle in a society that allows very few freedoms for women. Along with her wealth, she also happens to be intelligent and observant, qualities that are appreciated by some of the men in her life such as Captain Jack Hartley, friend of her deceased husband, and Bow Street Runner Simon Page. The same cannot be said of her unpleasant, dismissive father who has, without invitation, installed himself in her home. He insists Lily call upon his old friend, Sir Charles Wyatt, who is later found murdered and the search begins to determine who killed him. Lily assisted Simon on a previous case and he welcomes the help from her and Captain Jack but, alas, their collaborative investigation is still under way when another death occurs.

Appealing and vividly drawn characters (even Lily’s obnoxious father) and a decent plot create just the right circumstances for an engaging mystery. I recommend it to all lovers of historical mysteries.

Reviewed by Lelia Taylor, July 2021.

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Praise for Silence in the Library:

“Schellman’s gracefully written whodunit is equally a tale of this is an immersion in a bygone era.”—Kirkus Reviews

“The fast-paced, engrossing story has a climactic confrontation worthy of Rex Stout or Agatha Christie.” —Library Journal, starred review

Purchase Links:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop

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An Excerpt from Silence in the Library

Given the way she hadn’t hesitated to interfere in the Wyatt family’s affairs, Lily expected Lady Wyatt to politely rescind her invitation to ride the next morning. But she had insisted, saying her arm was sure to be better by morning. So after breakfast, Lily instructed Anna to lay out her riding habit. Though she had forgone her usual routine of breakfasting in her own room and instructed Mrs. Carstairs to lay breakfast in the parlor, Lily hadn’t seen any sign of her father. She didn’t mind. If she couldn’t be cozy while she dined, she was at least happy to be alone. And it gave her the opportunity to go over the week’s menus with her housekeeper and offer several suggestions for managing her father’s requests while he was with them. “And do you know how long might that be, Mrs. Adler?” Mrs. Carstairs asked carefully. “Mr. Branson was unable to say when I spoke to him last night.” Lily pursed her lips. “For as long as he needs, Mrs. Carstairs. Or as long as I can bear his company. My record on that score is fifteen years, however, so let us hope it will not come to that.” The housekeeper wisely didn’t say anything else. Lily’s pleasant solitude lasted until she was making her way back upstairs to change, when she found her path blocked by her father’s belligerent frame. Unwell he might be, but George Pierce was still a solid, imposing man, and Lily had to remind herself to square her shoulders and meet his scowl with a smile as he did his best to tower over her from the step above. “Good morning, Father.” He didn’t return the greeting. “I am going to breakfast,” he announced, eyebrows raised. Lily waited for a moment and then, when no more information was forthcoming, nodded. “I hope you enjoy it. Mrs. Carstairs is an excellent cook.” He sniffed. “And I assume your excessively early rising is an attempt to avoid my company?” “It is past nine o’clock, father,” Lily said. “Hardly excessive. And I have an appointment this morning, so if you will excuse me—” “What is your appointment?” He couldn’t curtail or dictate what she did with her time, Lily reminded herself. Even if having him in her home left her feeling as if her independence were being slowly stripped away once more, in practical terms he had no say in her life anymore. Answering his question was only polite. “An engagement with a friend—” “That sailor again, I assume?” Lily took a deep breath. “Captain Hartley was also invited, but no, the engagement is to ride with Lady Wyatt this morning. Which I assume you would approve of?” Seeing that she had momentarily surprised him into silence, she took the opportunity to push past her father. “You would like her, I think. She is charming and elegant.” “And her husband’s a fool for marrying again,” Mr. Pierce grumbled, but Lily was already heading down the hall and didn’t answer. Jack was coming just before ten to escort her to the Wyatts’ house, and Lily was in a hurry to dress and escape her father once again. Her room was empty when she walked in, but Anna had laid out her riding habit on the bed, pressed and ready, its military-style buttons glinting in the morning light amid folds of emerald-green fabric. Lily stared at it without moving. She had forgotten that her habit wasn’t suitable to wear when she was in mourning. She was still staring when Anna returned, the freshly brushed riding hat in her hands. When she saw Lily’s posture, Anna paused. “You don’t have another, I’m afraid,” she said gently. Lily nodded, unable to speak. One hand reached out to brush the heavy fabric of the habit; the other clenched a fold of the gray dress she wore. She had stopped wearing colors even before Freddy died—in those last months of his illness, she had traded all her pretty dresses for drab gowns more suited to nursing an invalid who would never recover. And even after full mourning was complete, she had lingered in the muted shades of half mourning long past when anyone would have required it of her, even Freddy’s own family. Laying aside the visual reminders of her grief felt too much like leaving behind her marriage. But that had meant more than two years of sorrow. And in the last few months, since she had come to London and taken control of her life once more, something had shifted inside her. “Yes, thank you, Anna,” Lily said quietly, her voice catching a little. She cleared her throat and said, more firmly, “I will wear this one.” *** She managed to leave the house without encountering her father again. When her butler, Carstairs, sent word that Captain Hartley was waiting in the front hall, Lily felt a pang of anxiety. Jack had loved Freddy like a brother. And he had never given any indication that he thought her mourning had gone on long enough. Jack was in the middle of removing his hat, and his hand stilled at the brim as he caught sight of her. Even Carstairs fell still as they watched her come down the stairs, the heavy folds of her green skirts buttoned up on one side to allow her to walk freely and a single dyed- green feather curling over the brim of her hat and flirting with her brown curls. Lily felt exposed as she descended the final few steps, though she was bolstered by the approval that softened Carstairs’s smile. She had never considered herself a shy person, but she could barely meet Jack’s eyes as she crossed the hall to give him her hand. For a moment neither of them spoke, and when she raised her gaze at last, Lily thought she saw the captain blinking something from the corner of his eye. “That was Freddy’s favorite color,” he said at last, his voice catching. Lily nodded. “I know.” Jack’s jaw tightened for a moment as he swallowed. But he smiled. “Well done, Lily,” he said quietly. “Good for you.” *** There was a lightness between them as they made the quick journey to Wimpole Street. As Jack waved down a hack carriage and handed her in, Lily found herself laughing at all of his quips or droll pieces of gossip, even the ones she normally would have chastised him for repeating. And Jack kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do I look that dreadful?” Lily asked at last as he handed her down from the carriage in front of the Wyatts’ home. “Quite the opposite,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he released her hand. “Did you know, you are actually quite pretty?” “You mean you did not find me pretty before?” “I think I had forgotten to consider it one way or another,” Jack admitted, grinning. “What a shame everyone has left London already; you would cause quite a sensation.” Lily shook her head. “I know full well I am not handsome enough for that.” “Surprise can cause as much of a sensation as admiration,” Jack pointed out. “Captain!” Lily exclaimed in mock indignation. “You were supposed to argue with me!” They continued bantering as they mounted the steps to Sir Charles’s townhouse, only to fall silent and exchange a puzzled glance as they realized that the door was half-open, the sounds of raised voices echoing from within. Lily glanced at Jack, an uneasy sensation beginning to curl in the pit of her stomach. “Should we knock?” He shrugged and did so, rapping firmly on the wood of the door. There was no response, but it swung open a little more. After hesitating a moment, Lily bit her lip and said, “Well, we ought to at least make sure Lady Wyatt knows we’ve come. If it is no longer convenient to ride, she can certainly tell us to leave.” “And you were already happy to interfere yesterday,” Jack pointed out, though she could hear the unease lurking beneath his playful tone. “We might as well do it again.” “Very true.” Lily pushed the door the rest of the way open and strode in, Jack following close behind. The front hall was empty, but they could still hear voices not far away, now low and urgent, and the sound of quiet crying from somewhere just out of sight. The uneasy feeling began to spread through Lily’s chest and arms, and she reached out her hand in blind anxiety. She was relieved to feel Jack take it and press it reassuringly into the crook of his arm. She had just decided that they should leave after all when quick steps echoed down the stairs. A moment later Frank Wyatt came rushing down, checking himself at the bottom as he stared at them in surprise. His face was pale and his eyes red as he gaped at them, his easy manner vanished. “Lily? And Captain . . . I’ve quite forgot your name. You must excuse . . . what are you doing here?” “The door was open, and no one answered our knock,” Lily said, feeling a little ashamed of their hastiness in entering. “I apologize, Frank; we did not mean to intrude, but we had an appointment to ride with Lady Wyatt this morning. Is everyone well?” “Is everyone . . . No. No.” Frank gripped the banister with one hand, his knuckles white. “I am afraid that Lady Wyatt will not be able to ride today. My father . . .” He swallowed. “My father has died.” Lily stared at him, unable to make sense of his words. They had seen Sir Charles just the day before. If he had seemed a little older and weaker than she remembered, he had still been utterly vital and alive. “Died? But . . . how?” “In point of fact,” a new voice said quietly from behind them. “It seems Sir Charles Wyatt has been killed.” *** Excerpt from Silence in the Library by Katharine Schellman. Copyright 2021 by Katharine Schellman. Reproduced with permission from Katharine Schellman. All rights reserved.

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About the Author

 

Katharine Schellman is a former actor, one-time political consultant, and currently the author of the Lily Adler Mysteries. A graduate of the College of William & Mary, Katharine currently lives and writes in the mountains of Virginia in the company of her family and the many houseplants she keeps accidentally murdering.

Find her online:

katharineschellman.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @KatharineSchellman
Instagram – @katharinewrites
Twitter – @katharinewrites
Facebook – @katharineschellman

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Book Review: Hanging Falls by Margaret Mizushima @margmizu @crookedlanebks

Hanging Falls
A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery #6
Margaret Mizushima
Crooked Lane Books, September 2020
ISBN 978-1-64385-445-8
Hardcover

While hiking in the mountains, Deputy Mattie Cobb and her K-9 partner Robo discover a man’s body floating in a lake. They soon find the body, once buried, has washed downhill due to the heavy rains plaguing the Colorado high country. While searching for clues to the man’s identity, they spot someone watching them and take him in as a suspect. Forced to let him go, as there doesn’t seem to be a connection between him and the dead man, in a matter of hours the suspect also ends up dead, hanging from a tall woodland tree. Investigation leads Mattie, Robo, and the police department to a group of religious adherents of what appears to be plural marriage.

This is the first of Mizushima’s Timber Creek mysteries that I’ve read, and it’s certainly not the last. This is the sixth book in the series, and I intend to go back for the earlier stories and catch up with Mattie’s previous adventures. Besides, I want to learn how she and Robo became partners. Then there’s her love life with veterinarian Cole Walker, and her interaction with the other LEO’s at their station. All are interesting and play important parts in the story arc.

As a plus, a great deal of the action happens in the mountains of Colorado, and we interact with wildlife, and the great outdoors.

Plus, Mattie was kidnapped, then abandoned by her mother when she was only two years old. She’s recently had a DNA test done and found some possible close relatives. What’s going to happen with that? It all adds to a well-rounded story with a good mystery, one sure to stir your blood. Besides, I’m a sucker for stories where dogs play a part. Definitely recommended reading.

Reviewed by Carol Crigger, December 2020.
http://www.ckcrigger.com
Author of The Woman Who Built A Bridge (Spur Award Winner), Yester’s Ride,
Hometown Burning and Six Dancing Damsels: A China Bohannon Novel

Book Review: Booked for Death by Victoria Gilbert @VGilbertauthor @crookedlanebks

Booked for Death
A Booklover’s B&B Mystery #1
Victoria Gilbert
Crooked Lane Books, August 2020
ISBN 978-1-64385-307-9
Hardcover

First in a new series by the author of the popular Blue Ridge Library mysteries, this new series is “A Booklover’s B&B Mystery.”  Set in Beaufort, North Carolina, we meet Charlotte Reed, proprietor of the Chapters Bed and Breakfast which she inherited from her great-aunt, Isabella.  Having spent the year since her inheritance learning how to run the B&B and host literary events, Charlotte thinks she is prepared for pretty much anything.  But, having planned a literary retreat based on the life and books of the famed Josephine Tey, Charlotte did not expect a murder.  So, when a dealer in rare books turns up dead during the event, Charlotte suddenly finds herself in the position of trying to find out who had it in for the man.

At first the victim’s wife and daughter suspect Charlotte because the book dealer threatened to make public information about great-aunt Isabella that, according to him, would show that Isabella bought the inn with money she received from selling stolen items.  Determined to clear both her own name and Isabella’s, Charlotte sets out to find out who killed the dealer.  Unfortunately, there is no shortage of suspects but fortunately she has some help from a neighbor and some of her book club guests.  But then someone comes after Charlotte.  Can she unmask the killer before the killer gets her?

Booked for Death is a cozy fast read with engaging characters – perfect for the beach (can we even go to a beach these days?).  Or, if not a beach, somewhere outside or on a nice breezy porch.

Reviewed by Melinda Drew, June 2020.