Red Shadows at Saugatuck: A Haunted Shores Mystery by Randy Overbeck

Red Shadows at Saugatuck: A Haunted Shores Mystery

by Randy Overbeck

Buy Link

Blurb:

Darrell Henshaw hoped he was past it all. After all, no ghosts had visited him for years. Instead, he learns his five-year-old-son, Leo has inherited his “gift.”  

Now, they both can see ghosts. 

Upon his parents’ insistence, Darrell agrees to drive his young family 800 miles to celebrate his Aunt Gertrude’s 80th birthday. But, once in the resort  town of Saugatuck, Michigan, their participation gets derailed by the spirit of a Native teen who went missing weeks earlier. When he and Leo inquire about the girl, the locals dismiss their concerns—"Those girls run away all the time.”  Still, as questions pile up and threats grow, Darrell senses they may have stumbled onto something far worse and even more evil than one missing teen.  

Can Darrell continue to pursue justice for the girl if it places his wife and five-year-old son in danger? 

Excerpt:

Darrell chanced another look in the rearview and saw the SUV accelerating, closing the distance. Darrell stared, fixated on the wide silver grill growing larger in his mirror. Alternating glances from the road ahead to the car behind, he watched it move closer, now less than a car length. He stared at the shield, could make out its colors of silver, gold, black and red. He checked out the road ahead then shot another look at the Cadillac emblem. In the center of the shield, he saw a small nick, like a stone from the road had chipped it. His gaze returned to the asphalt ahead of him. 

He punched the accelerator and felt his Taurus respond. When the distance between the cars opened up a bit, he checked the speedometer. The needle moved past eighty. The scenery flew by. He didn’t think he could keep this up for long. At least, the road was straight…for now. 

He sensed more than saw movement behind him and yanked his gaze back to the rearview mirror. The SUV accelerated even more and drew still closer, the black frame and tinted windshield filling his mirror. Darrell’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. The car came so close, the grill with the shield disappeared from his view. The darkened windshield was all Darrell could see through his mirror.  

God, he must be within a foot. He’s going to ram me. 

He floored the gas pedal and the engine whined in protest. The needle passed eighty-five. He wanted to turn his head and look back through the rear window but couldn’t chance it. Not at this speed. He had to stay focused on the road ahead. His Taurus raced along the blacktop.  

Then it started. First, a few thunks on the roof and, within seconds, the sky opened up, the rain cascading in sheets. He flipped the wipers on high and stared through the windshield at the rain-slicked asphalt. Damn, what else can go wrong? Driving like this in the rain was major- league stupid. 

He needed to slow down in the downpour but couldn’t. He feared if he slowed, even a little, the larger SUV would slam into him and probably run him off the road. He chanced another glance in the rearview and saw…nothing. All he could see looking back was the torrential rain slicing down onto the blacktop.  

Where had the Cadillac gone? Could he have turned off when the rain hit and Darrell hadn’t noticed? He didn’t think so but where was the car? He stared ahead and then shot another glance in the mirror. Nothing. 

Then, he caught some movement in his peripheral vision. The Cadillac SUV had slid over into the oncoming lane. He was passing the Taurus on the left. He must’ve disappeared into Darrell’s blind spot before pulling even with the Taurus. Darrell stared from the SUV beside him to the road ahead. As far as he could tell, both lanes seemed empty of traffic, but the rain reduced how far he could see. 

He shot a glance to his side. The Cadillac had pulled up, almost even with his car. He peered across but could make out nothing but the damn dark tinted glass. He jerked his gaze back to the road. What was this idiot going to do? Pass him and make him skid on the wet road? He risked a glance in the rearview to see if there was a second car, to block him in. Nothing. 

The SUV inched forward, both cars hurtling at almost ninety! This was crazy. No, this was suicide. He should brake and slow down, let the Cadillac whiz by him. But he feared what might happen in the rain. He could hydroplane, lose traction and skid.  

He had no time to consider any options.  

Right then, the SUV surged forward and steered hard to the right, angling in front of him, cutting off the Taurus. Darrell had no choice. He stepped on his brake so as not to hit the Cadillac. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the SUV whiz into his lane right in front of him. He yanked the wheel to the right, swerving to avoid hitting the other car. His tires slipped on the rain-slicked asphalt. He tried to control the steering wheel but felt the car skid onto the narrow shoulder. He slammed on the brakes as hard as he could and watched the car go over the edge of the shoulder. His heart raced. He practically stood on the brake. The car bumped over the shoulder. It bounced down into a ditch and partway up. The Taurus jerked to a stop, slamming his head into the steering wheel.  

Everything went dark. 

Author Bio:

Dr. Randy Overbeck is an award-winning educator, author, speaker and podcaster. As an educator, he served children for more than three decades and has mined that experience to create captivating fiction, authoring two series, the bestselling series, “The Haunted Shores Mysteries,” and the award-winning series, “Lessons in Peril.” His novels have won critical acclaim and garnered national awards including Mystery of the Year (ReaderViews) Best Book Award (Chanticleer Books and Reviews) and the Gold Award (Literary Titan) and amassed hundreds of 5-star reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Dr. Overbeck also hosts the popular podcast, “Great Stories about Great Storytellers,” which reveals the unusual and sometimes strange backstories of famous authors, directors and poets and can be heard wherever listeners get their podcasts. He is a speaker in considerable demand, sharing his popular presentations about ghosts and the world of book publishing with hundreds of audiences all over the U.S.  

As a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Dr. Overbeck is an active member of the literary community, contributing to a writers’ critique group, serving as a mentor to emerging writers and participating in writing conferences such as Killer Nashville and the Midwest Writers Workshop. 

When he’s not researching, writing, speaking or podcasting, Randy enjoys traveling with his wife Cathy and visiting both his far-flung family and the scenic locations around this country, often in search of inspiration for his next great story. 

 

More info about his novels, programs and podcast can be found at his website www.authorrandyoverbeck.com  

randyoverbeck@authorrandyoverbeck.com 

SOCIAL MEDIA CONTACTS 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorrandyoverbeck 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/OverbeckRandy/media 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorrandyoverbeck/ 

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/randy-overbeck 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Randy-Overbeck/e/B07QQHW7DM 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4825632.Randy_Overbeck 

 

A New Kind of Hope: A Dickens Holiday Romance by Liz Flaherty

A New Kind of Hope

A Dickens Holiday Romance

by Liz Flaherty

Buy Links:Amazon: https://a.co/d/2DiAbVy

 Everywhere else: https://books2read.com/u/bogDg0

I remember … well, I’m old, I remember almost everything, but only in bits and pieces and only in ways that give me joy. I’ve written enough books and stories that I don’t remember some of very well (or at all), but more about that in a minute.

What I was going to say I remembered was when Harlequin and Silhouette started releasing holiday books. I’m sure the other publishers did, too, but H/S was what I normally read because those books cost less and I loved them. Then I started reading all the holiday collections—the Regencies were my favorite, because Carla Kelly and Mary Balogh always had stories in them. I still remember some of those stories; I still reread ones I have copies of.

I’ve written several holiday stories myself, but there was one I’d forgotten about. See? Told you I did that. The first year the Dickens Holiday Romances were released, I wrote a story for it. Wisdom of the Heart was Fee and Jed’s story, but I couldn’t quite recall what it was about.  

So I read it. And I liked it. I’d thought of writing a new one this year, but I didn’t get it done. Maybe I could … 

I did. I changed its title, because I didn’t think it fit very well, and Nancy Fraser made me a new cover I just loved, and I changed a little here and there, and now … this very day … A New Kind of Hope is released as an ebook on its own.  

About A New Kind of Hope 

They were best friends who fell in love, but that was high school. Life and families and other loves had happened since that dear and distant time. They’re friends again, comfortable with each other and having so much fun at Christmas time in Dickens. They’re not still in love, but…wait…could it be happening again? 

Excerpt: 

Jed got up, going over to where she stood and taking her into his arms. For a moment, he just held her, giving all of her curves time to adjust to his planes and angles. Then he kissed her, taking his time about it, thinking … no, not thinking at all. Just feeling. It had been so long since he’d held a woman he lo … he cared about. Too long, Heather would say, but she’d know, too, what he’d been waiting for.  

“You were my best and last love,” she’d told him once during her illness, holding his hand in her thin one and laying her fingers up against his. “I’m not going to be yours. I’m good with that.” 

It should have felt wrong to let go of one love while holding another, but it didn’t. For the first time since Heather’s death, Jed gave credence to the thought that he might someday be happy again. Not yet, but someday. 

“The tree-lighting at the Common is Saturday night,” he said. “Want to go with me?” 

She nodded. “Most of the stores are opening back up afterward. A couple of the Klatchers are going to open Silver Threads after the lighting and man the cutting table. Ailey and I had planned to go.” She smiled, but there was an extra shine in her eyes. “Maybe you should kiss me again.” 

“Maybe I should.”  

Author Bio :

Liz Flaherty wanted to shake off the dust of central Indiana farm country and move to the city, get rich, wear designer clothes, and write books. 

Well, she writes books.  

She lives five miles from where she grew up, only now she relishes the sights and sounds and scents of the fields around her, doesn’t care much about clothes, and thinks being rich would probably have been overrated anyway.  She’s spent the past several years enjoying not working a day job, making terrible crafts, and writing stories in which the people aren’t young, brilliant, or even beautiful. She’s decided (and has to re-decide nearly every day) that the definition of success is having a good time. Along with her husband of lo, these many years, kids, grands, friends, and the occasional cat, she’s doing just that. 

You can find her all over the place, but this is easiest:  https://linktr.ee/LizFlaherty She’d love to hear from you! 

 

THE PASSING SEASONS

 by Caroline Clemmons

Welcome Fall! Our weather is a little cooler. Several types of trees are getting Falll colors that show well among the dark green live oaks. I am  aware our Fall display in North Central Texas is nothing compared to New England. But this is where I live, and I'm enjoying my community.

Many people love summer’s heat, lying in the sun and getting a tan, participating in or watching summer sports, and just having sunny days. Perhaps I'm eccentric, but I'm so much more comfortable in cooler weather. Spring and Fall are mu favorites.

 As a child, I enjoyed things like climbing trees and softball in our neighborhood, but that's about the limit of my athletic acytivity. Usually, I was indoors reading comic books or playing with my paper dolls or writing little stories about a princess rescued by a dashing knight. The stories didn't vary much and didn't have many obstacles. Comic books gave way to Nancy Drew and paper dolls to riding my bike.

Now I love taking drives in the Fall and seeing all the trees and hedges changing color. With our recent rains, the grass is still green, which makes it even more attractive. My youngest daughter and I make great plans about what we're going to do to the yard. But not now—next spring.

I look forward to reading, writing, and watching movies on TV. The stories I write don’t feature a princess (with one exception), but are about  strong women ready to assist the valiant hero defeat the villain. Hmm, maybe they haven’t changed as much since I was a young girl as I’d thought.

My two precious daughters and I are slowly recovering from my dear husban’s recent death---although I don’t suppose anyone ever actually recovers from the death of a loved one. Some days are better than others, of course. I'm sure many of you have gone through the same thing. At least  I am feeling more positive and cheerful.

As the passing seasons are a part of life, so are the passings of our loved ones. It's all part of some great plan we don't understand, but we must have faith things are under control by the Almighty.

 

Railroad Ties: The Marmion Grove Murders by M.S. Spencer

Railroad Ties:  The Marmion Grove Murders

by M.S. Spencer

A Cozy Mystery

Buy Link

Book Blurb:

When Sophie Childress discovers a letter written in 1920 by the witness to a murder, she enlists Noah Pennyman—owner of the house where it took place—to investigate. Who was the victim? What did the killer do with the body—not to mention a carpetbag full of money? Together they expose a complex web of family ties and lies that has persisted through four generations in the historic village of Marmion Grove. When two more corpses are unearthed, Noah and Sophie are faced with too many victims and not enough murderers.

Excerpt:

The men shuffled their feet. Finally, Fred said, “Look here, we have probable cause to consider this a crime scene. Murray, get Captain Hinckley on the horn—see if we need a warrant. If he thinks the mayor should be informed, he can contact him.” Murray returned after a minute, clicking his phone off. “He says we don’t require a search warrant since it’s on public property, but to get permission from the mayor to be on the safe side. If we find anything, we’re to secure the scene.” There was a moment of uncertainty. The dog walkers closed in. “Hey, Peggy, what’s going on?” “Never you mind, Matthew Crockett. You neither, Angela.” They sauntered by, casting inquiring looks. Noah turned to Mrs. Dane. “We could use another shovel. Do you have an extra?” “Certainly. I’ll get it.” “And maybe a tarp to hold the plants and soil.” “I’ll help you.” Sophie followed Peggy around the back of the building. Peggy unlocked a shed and drew out a long-handled spade and a folded tarp. Sophie asked tentatively, “Do you think they’ll find anything?” Peggy chortled. “You’d be astounded how many bodies are buried in a small town. This wouldn’t be the first.” Bodies. “Um, Mrs. Dane? Oscar said you and he were old friends. That’s why you called him. Has he…has he told you anything he’s not telling us?” Peggy’s response was sudden and dramatic. She flushed as pink as her bathrobe and stood stock still. Eyes glittering, she snapped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sophie plunged on. “I noticed you two exchanging…um…signals.” The older woman fingered the top button of her robe nervously. “This can’t go beyond these walls.” Sophie refrained from pointing out they were outdoors. “I understand.” Peggy’s voice dropped. “Oscar and I… We are… We were…” Sophie saw the light. “You two are—” She cut her off. “That’s all you need to know.” “So Oscar didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.” “No.” Peggy’s color gradually returned to normal. “Here, take this tarp, and I’ll bring the spade.” When they returned, Noah and Ian had their jackets off. “George says go for it.” Oscar lurched forward. “No!” Kendrick held him back. “It’s for the best, Dad. We’ve kept the secret long enough.” The policeman looked at them in consternation. “Secret?” “A family tragedy.” Sophie wondered if they were going to come up with yet another whopper. This family is the slickest bunch of dissemblers I’ve ever seen. Aside from Harry, that is. Noah and Ian set to, Noah on the south side and Ian on the north. “Let’s hope it’s not under the shelter itself.” The mound of dirt on the tarp rose higher and higher. The sun was reaching its zenith when Ian’s spade struck something. “Help me here, Noah.” They scrabbled in the dirt. “Wait—stop! It looks like a hand.” Peggy turned her face away. The others looked on. “Be careful! That’s the arm bone. Oh, and a leg. Is that a hat?” Murray got a whisk broom from his patrol car. “Brush away the soil from its head. Be careful!” Noah did so. They stood back. “Huh.” “Huh.” The skeleton that lay exposed still wore the tattered remains of denim overalls. A ball cap covered its skull. “Pretty sure it’s a male.” Ian said, “He’s not dressed like a businessman. Can’t be Filou.” Kendrick contemplated the figure. “Blue collar. Laborer.” “Wait, there’s a patch on his shirt.” Murray bent down. It says ‘B&O.’ He must have worked for the railroad.” “But who the hell is he?”

Author Bio:

Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. She has published eighteen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

 

GATHERING THE FACTS

 By Caroline Clemmons

An author friend and I were talking recently about starting a new book or series. It's always an exciting time, but there are many factors that go into laying the background for a series. For instance, in my recent book SHAD, for the Guns For Hire series, I deliberated where to have the action happen. Back in the Depression (the big one), my father-in-law as a young man worked for the Civilian Conservation Corps, the CCC. This was about the time of the Works Progress Administration, the WPA. My father-in-law felt lucky to be assigned to a work crew up in the northern New Mexico forest. He had photos that showed how pretty it was there. The pictures were black and white, but you could visualize the beauty.

A friend had a cabin at Questa. She talked about how much she loved the area. She would sit on her front porch and watch the wildlife. She even saw a bear go by, but it didn't bother her, fortunately. Her description sold me on that location. I got off the beaten path and started checking locations that would work,  chose the area, then made up the town.

 You see, if I used a small town that was real, I'd have to be careful to put in the right streets, the right buildings, and so forth. If I make up the town, I can place the buildings I want just the way I need them. So, that's what I usually do for my books—with a few exceptions, such as Santa Fe and San Antonio. It's fun to create a new community.

I have been to northern New Mexico, but not the exact place where I said in the book. I've been to Taos. As I mentioned, one of my friends has a cabin at Questa, a town I used in SHAD. I looked online to see what features it had. (The internet is such a blessing for research.) I was surprised to find Questa has a walled downtown that sounded interesting. But I didn't want my main set there. I made up the town of Ben Rock. I visualized a large rock shaped like a flat bench, sort of hanging on the side of a mountain over this town, like a bench for a giant.

 Next, I had to learn the type of ranching and farming, or whatever was going on in that area. Goats as well as cattle stock the ranches. Another aspect I must consider is the weather—the temperatures, the rainfall, when the first snow falls, and when the last snow falls. Frequently, I use weather in my books as I did in SHAD. You might think I do too much research, but having actual things correct in my fictional stories is very important to me.

 You can see that there's often a lot of research before authors begin writing, and more popping up while they’re immersed in the world they’re creating.

 Thanks for stopping by. Stay safe and keep reading.

The Marriage Matrix by Joan Esser

The Marriage Matrix

by Joan Esser

Buy Link

Book Blurb:

  Treating her search for a husband as a research project, socially inept Dr. Wanda Walling creates a marriage matrix listing the qualities she wants in a husband. All candidates will be evaluated by how many boxes are ticked off. Then Wanda meets handsome Detective Jack Pendleton, who excites and delights her, but doesn't meet any of her requirements, and he has a phobia about marriage.

  Jack is enthralled by Wanda and wants her any way he can get her. Even though he is appalled that she is hubby hunting, he still wants to bed her. Can he convince her to have a fling with him when he doesn't check off any boxes in the matrix? Will Wanda be diverted from her goal by a sexy detective?

Excerpt:

 Once they were seated at the opera, Wanda's awareness of the man next to her kept her attention off the opera. Though the music was good and the new tenor was superb, every whiff of his lime-scented aftershave sent her heartbeat speeding. Mentally giving herself a shake, she reminded herself that she was looking for a husband and he was definitely not a candidate. He had made that abundantly clear. Yet, she was here next to him, jumpy with nerves. What was the matter with her?

  When the standing ovations quieted down and the performers took their final bow, Jack asked, "Would you like to stop for a bite to eat? I'm certainly hungry."

  Her mind said, "No, no," but her head nodded, "Yes, yes."

Author Bio:

Ever since she learned to read, Joan has been fascinated by books and their ability to take her to a different time and place. Reading ignited her imagination and made her want to share her stories with others to enjoy. A New York native, she currently lives in Florida.

 

The Matchmaker's Mare by Hywela Lyn

The Matchmaker's Mare

by Hywela Lyn

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Matchmakers-Mare-Hywela-Lyn-ebook/dp/B0DYF6L15C 

Amazon US  https://www.amazon.com/Matchmakers-Mare-Hywela-Lyn-ebook/dp/B0DYF6L15C 

Book Blurb:

When Megan Johnson inherits an old cottage in the Welsh countryside, she seizes the opportunity to cut ties with her past life, after a broken romance. Her nearest neighbour, a horse trainer, is also something of an enigma. Single dad Glyn Phillips does his best to balance his love of horses and hard work, with his devotion to his son. When he meets his new neighbour, he knows he should resist any attraction. A feisty pony mare which mysteriously appears on his land adds to his problems, but another, larger problem lies ahead. Two matchmaking spirits find their carefully laid plans may not go as smoothly as they hope. 

Excerpt:

Perhaps now she would be able to put the past behind her and instead look forward to the new possibilities this inheritance had given her. She smiled. No more business suits and severe hairstyles. No more working in a stuffy office at a monotonous, if well-paid, job. No more paying an extortionate rent for a small London flat—and no more trying to please Richard. From now on she intended to be totally independent, needing to please no-one but herself.   

A faint scent of lavender drifted toward her on the warm, silky breeze. She sniffed appreciatively. It seemed a bit early for lavender, but she would have to check out the back garden once she settled in. There must be lavender bushes at the back of the cottage since she couldn’t see any in the rather overgrown and neglected front garden.   

She inserted the key in the door and paused. Something like the tinkle of little bells sounded close by. She looked up to see if anything in the trees could account for the sound. It might be garden chimes, but her great uncle had not been the type to have such ‘fripperies’ as he would have called them. She didn’t think there were any other houses close enough for the sound to carry. She must be imagining things.  

Megan took a deep breath and stepped into the cottage. A new home, a new job and a new beginning: A chance to put behind her the traumas of the last twelve months and start afresh.   

Author Bio:

Hywela Lyn was born and raised in Wales, whose beautiful landscapes, myths and legends inspired her to write. A horse and dog lover, she weaves romantic futuristic adventures, and fantasy romances set in Wales, past and present.  

Beloved Enemy, the third book in her Destiny Trilogy, was shortlisted in the Paranormal category of the prestigious Romantic Novelists Association RoNA awards and was a Runner up in the RONE Award. Her latest release is a ‘feel-good’ ‘sweet’ romance, incorporating a little mystery, a feisty stray mare – and not forgetting two rather playful but well-meaning spirits. 

Her penname, Hywela Lyn is a combination of her first two names. (She has always been known by her second name 'Lyn' and thought it was time her Welsh first name was used as well.) When not writing or reading, she can usually be found outdoors with horses or her little ‘rescue’ dog - or just eating chocolate!