RICKY STEELE MYSTERIES!

 

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Prepped to Kill

Ricky Steele Mysteries Book 1

by 

M. Lee Prescott

Genre: Female Sleuth Mystery

Ricky Steele, a fifty-eight year old odd jobber, plays a practical joke on her former boarding school, a joke that plunges her headlong into kidnapping and murder. While she pretends to be an ace private investigator, the niece of Massachusetts’ governor goes missing and a murderer terrorizes the campus. Ricky enlists the aid of her former roommates and together, the three create mayhem during Whitley School’s reunion weekend, bungling along in search of the truth. Join Ricky on her first caper and see how this humorous rollicking mystery series got its start.

**Get it FREE!**

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Gadfly

Ricky Steele Mysteries Book 2

Ricky Steele, a fifty-eight year old odd jobber, is at it again, this time investigating the death of the husband of a childhood friend. Following Ron Harp’s funeral, Ricky finds herself on the wrong side of local police as she becomes embroiled in small town politics, uncovers long held secrets and investigates multiple murders. She also rekindles a romance with drop dead gorgeous, Jay Harp, the deceased’s brother. As Ricky pushes and probes, she unleashes a killer’s rage. This first person narrative laced with wit and humor, offers the second glimpse of this PI in action. Coming soon-- Ricky’s third adventure, Lost in Spindle City. This is one “upper middle aged” sleuth, who has no intention of slowing down as she closes in 60!

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Lost in Spindle City

Ricky Steele Mysteries Book 3

After discovering a child prostitute on her doorstep, P.I. Ricky Steele begins a wild search for her client’s 12-year-old friend. Her quest plunges her deep into Spindle City’s thriving underworld of drugs and prostitution. From there, the investigation takes her to the city’s wealthiest neighborhoods and its exclusive country club, worlds she happily left behind in her teens.

On home turf with this outing, Ricky enlists the aid of friends like her hunky next door neighbor, Vinnie, and Bunny, her childhood friend and local realtor, who gets her access to the exclusive Aquinesset Club. Running buddy, Phil Rubin, a physician, gets medical attention for her young client, and golfer, Mark Fallon, the north end’s hottest woodworker, pokes around where Ricky cannot go. Even her on again, off again, lover, Jay Harp lends a hand, introducing her to Wilda, a six foot four, martial arts trained, security specialist, who provides critical muscle for the fifty-something P.I.

Murders, beatings, and near misses plague the intrepid sleuth as she closes in on a killer. Join Ricky for this rollicking ride filled danger, romance and surprise.

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Poof!

Ricky Steele Mysteries Book 4

Ricky Steele is on the case, this time hired to find two missed children, who have vanished, poof! The investigation plunges her into the underworld of child trafficking and exploitation as she moves from dark city streets to a wealthy beach front community, where evil lies behind a façade of gentility. Once again, Ricky is joined by her boarding school buddies, who are visiting for the weekend. Armed with pepper spray and stun guns, the three Rambettes jump right into the investigation, mayhem and humor following in their wake.

In this fourth book in the series, Ricky also finds love when Charlie Bowen, or Dr. McDreamy, as her friends call him, moves into her neighborhood and into her heart. His daughter, Mike, who wants to learn the PI business, joins Ricky, Wilda and the gang on yet another breathtaking adventure filled with danger, humor, pathos, and surprise.

Goodreads * Amazon

Award winning author, M. Lee Prescott loves the variety of hats she dons when writing. As an educator, she is the author of three works of nonfiction, Reader to Reader: Building Independence Through Peer Partnerships, Writer to Writer: Focus on Fluency and Craft in Multilingual Classrooms and Fluency In Focus: Comprehension Strategies for Young Readers as well as a number of scholarly articles in her field of literacy.

Lee also writes in several genres of fiction—Mystery, Historical, Western Romance, Contemporary Romance, Romance Suspense, and books for children and young adults. Often, writers assume different pen names for different kinds of books, but all of Lee’s fiction is published under her name, M. Lee Prescott. She hopes readers will seek out and enjoy all of her genres. They will discover connections everywhere!

Lee lives in southeastern Massachusetts on a beautiful river, where she canoes, swims, and watches an incredible variety of wildlife pass by. She is the mother of two sons and spends lots of time with them, their beautiful wives, and her amazing grandchildren. When not teaching or writing (both of which she adores), Lee’s passions revolve around family, yoga, swimming, teaching mindfulness to children and adults, and walking.

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$15 Amazon giftcard – 1 winner,

ebook Copy of Gadfly – 3 winners 

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CLAWS FOR ALARM -- A COZY MYSTERY BY T. C. LoTIEMPO

Claws for Alarm by T.C. LoTempio

Since inheriting her mother’s sandwich shop, Nora Charles is more about hot grilled paninis than cold-blooded murder—until her sister Lacey is arrested. The victim, an esteemed art collector and Lacey’s bullying professor, was stabbed in the heart. Apparently, all over a lousy grade.

Off campus, things were just as dicey. The prof had an ex with secrets, a trophy wife set to inherit a fortune in masterworks, and a scorned student mistress. Going undercover, Nora realizes that investigating this crime is the biggest test of her sleuthing career. Because if she fails, even Nick’s animal instinct won’t be enough to rescue Lacey from a perfectly executed framing.

Amazon * Barnes & Noble

Praise for the Nick and Nora


“Nick and Nora are a winning team.”—Rebecca Hale, New York Times bestselling author of How to Paint a Cat


“Nick and Nora are the purrfect sleuthy duo!”—*Victoria Laurie, New York Times bestselling author of the Psychic Eye Mystery series

Author T.C. LoTempio

Born in New York City, T. C. LoTempio is the national bestselling author of Meow If It’s Murder, the first in the Nick and Nora Mystery series. She has been a staff reporter at the young adult magazine Susabella Passengers and Friends for more than a decade. When she isn’t reporting or writing novels, she and her cat Rocco fundraise for Nathan Fillion’s charity, Kids Need to Read.

Website * Blog * Twitter * Facebook

$50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash


Ends 11/30/15


Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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CONFUSION REIGNS IN MYSTERY, EVERYWHERE IT'S YOU, BY C. B. SALEM

EVERYWHERE IT'S YOU

by C.B. Salem

C.B. Salem will award a randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter a $20 Amazon/BN GC.

EVERYWHERE IT’S YOU Blurb:

Legal investigator Kristina Andersen has been drugged.

It started when she came into work and was tasked with finding the firm's biggest client: the intense, enigmatic pharmaceuticals billionaire Landon Tatum.

She'd just had a sexy encounter with him while working a birthday party undercover at a seedy strip club the previous night. Now he's missing, and she needs to find him.

Problem: the drug coursing through her veins makes it so every man she sees looks like the man she's looking for.

And that's just the start of it.

EVERYWHERE IT’S YOU Excerpt:

Keeping his eyes on hers, he took a brief sip of the champagne. Probably had to hide his distaste. “Have I seen you before?”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe so, Mr. Tatum.”

Even knowing it was coming, her breath caught in her throat. Listen to that. Mr. Tatum. Like she was a nervous English servant. What was the matter with her? Her brothers would have laughed up a storm. Hell, Anna would have laughed in her face.

“You know my name.” It was a statement, not a question.

Her last night’s self licked her lips and shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“That seems a bit unfair.” He leaned forward almost imperceptibly, closing the gap between them so that she caught the briefest trance of his scent. A warm shiver eased down her spine. She was more into this than she wanted to admit. “What’s your name?”

And here—thankfully¬—she’d loosened up a bit. She said the words in her head as she heard them aloud. “Do you want my stage name or my real one?”

That wasn’t a bad line. She’d snapped out of it quickly enough, anyway. Tatum smiled full-on now, and the effect was half charming, half-titillating. “I didn’t realize the women wearing your outfit got on stage.”

“Not tonight,” she bluffed, her voice low and throaty. She’d really been getting into it, hadn’t she? More people needed to watch themselves flirt in Recall to see how ridiculous they were. “But maybe if you come back another night you can see me up there.”

Buy On Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Everywhere-Its-You-C-B-Salem-ebook/dp/B00UXK9HQU/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Author Bio:

C.B. Salem lives, writes, and dreams in Chicago. When she isn’t reading or plotting the next scene in her book, she enjoys cooking new dishes and having quality cuddles with her two dogs: Murphy and Oliver.

Website: www.cbsalem.com

Twitter: @cbsalem

Facebook: www.facebook.com/cbsalem

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here: 

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/06/book-blast-everywhere-its-you-by-cb.html

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J. M. GRIFFIN'S LATEST RELEASE - FOR LOVE OF LIVVY

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding winner's choice of an eBook from Lachesis Publishing to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please click the banner to see a list of other stops on the tour.



NOTE: THIS BOOK IS AVAILABLE FREE EVERYWHERE IT'S SOLD! Why not pick up your copy today?

The author will be awarding winner's choice of an eBook from Lachesis Publishing to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour.

After her favorite aunt is found dead and an alarming box is mysteriously left on the doorstep of her aunt’s house now legally hers, Lavinia Esposito wants explanations. But, having cleared the package of explosives, the local cops are dumbounded by the precious stones which came without an explanation, just an address─her Aunt Livvy’s. Frustrated by the cops’ refusal to share their theories, criminal justice instructor Lavinia Esposito, a.k.a. Vinnie, takes investigation matters into her own hands. Vinnie is soon dragged into situations beyond her control, finding herself in hot water with the law, the crooks, and her Italian father. Willing to put her life at risk to find out what really happened to her beloved Aunt Livvy, and why jewels would be addressed to her aunt, Vinnie plunges ahead with her usual tenacity, bravery, and keen wits to solve and survive this mystery.

Now enjoy an excerpt:

The front door knocker rapped twice after the door bell rang. I hustled from the rear deck of the gargantuan house to answer the summons. Someone seemed impatient, and I was curious as to who it was. My watch read just after eight o’ clock. I swung the heavy door open to find my prospective visitor absent.

It was so quiet, the town ghostly in its seemingly deserted state. Sundays were always lazy days in Scituate, once church was over. With a glance up and down the street of the small historic Rhode Island village, neat colonial homes stretched along the sides of the road in both directions. No one came into view. On the doorstep, a package addressed to my recently deceased Aunt Livvy sat wrapped in brown paper. Again, I gawked up and down the street, but only empty sidewalks and barren roadway appeared in the waning light. The idea of a jaunt along the main drag entered my mind. I figured it would be senseless since the street was visible for about two hundred yards in either direction. Whoever had left the package was gone, long gone.

An eternity passed, or so it seemed, while my gaze locked onto the square, little box. Reluctant to touch it, I decided to call the local fire company to come take a gander. Call me paranoid, but as a criminal justice instructor, a recent audit of a class on bomb components remained fresh in my mind.

I quickly stepped to the living room and grabbed the phone. I dialed the private number of the fire station up the street. A grunt came across the phone line that could only be Bill MacNert.

“Hey Nerd, its Vinnie,” I said. “A package was just left on my doorstep, could you come down and check it out for me?”

“Sure, you got a secret admirer or somethin’?” He cackled, as only senior men can.

“Not likely, but you never know. This package is addressed to Lavinia Ciano, not Lavinia Esposito and is wrapped in brown paper. Nobody’s here to accompany this little surprise either.”

“I’ll be right down, Vinnie, don’t touch it.” He warned.

“Okay.”

Anxious, I paced back and forth across gleaming hard wood floors in the spacious living room of my newly acquired colonial. My fingernails tapped the enamel on my teeth as I wandered to and fro. As irrational as it seemed, I finally leaned against the door jamb inside the entry to wait for MacNert to arrive.

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Love-Livvy-JM-Griffin/dp/1897562454/ref=la_B0074JH1HU_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1408405431&sr=1-1

BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/for-love-of-livvy-j-m-griffin/1102586938?ean=9781897562468

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/399272

J. M. Griffin, Author

J. M. Griffin is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to stimulate the imagination much like she wields her paint brush. The pages are a blank canvas on which J.M. draws vivid characters. J.M. is the author of the popular Vinnie Esposito mystery series featuring the sexy sleuth Vinnie Esposito and the engaging Deadly Bakery mystery series featuring the sassy baker/sleuth Melina Cameron. J.M. lives in rural Rhode Island, a state she considers colorful and interesting.

Author links:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/JM-Griffin/246751368685078

http://www.twitter.com/mycozymystery

http://mycozymysteries.blogspot.com/

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Thanks for stopping by!

THE MYSTERY OF THE 777 MEME

Jacquie Rogers

What is the 777 meme? Is it a mystery to be unfolded one clue at a time? Nope, it's a game, sort of a promotion game for authors who want to trick readers into buying their books. No, wait, I didn't mean to say that. No, no, of course not. The 777 meme is a fun way for readers to find out more about books. Yeah, that's better.Sure.

Friend and author Jacquie Rogers (author of the hilariously clever MUCH ADO ABOUT MARSHALS and other linked books) tagged me in a 777 meme. Jacquie is a fellow western historical author who also writes craft books for writers.

Apologies to Jacquie, but instead of a western historical, I've chosen the 7th line on page 77 of my contemporary cozy mystery, DIGGING FOR DEATH, which is the first of the Heather Cameron series. I'm currently at work on DIGGING FOR BONES, the second Heather Cameron adventure, while I also am writing my western historical HIGH STAKES BRIDE, the second of the Men of Stone Mountain trilogy. I don't understand why I'm compelled to write two books at once, but a writer's mind is positively unfathomable.None of us claims to be totally sane.Of course, I don't have two computers at which I type simultaneously. No, it's a mood thing. In addition to being slightly nutty, writers are often moody and capricious. No, no, make that writers are flexible. Yeah, sounds better, doesn't it? Sigh. But I digress.

As with most of my books, the setting is Texas, this time north of Dallas about where Van Alstyne is located. My dad was born nearby in Pilot Grove, and Darling Daughter 1 lives not too far southeast of there. Hero and I lived in Richardson when each of our daughters was born. You can see why I feel an affinity for that area of North Texas.

Before I give you the 7th line of page 77, let me give you the blurb and set up:

BLURB:
Garden center manager Heather Cameron is DIGGING FOR DEATH to prove her old family friend, mentor, and employee, Walter Sims, is innocent of murdering the meanest man in town. Heather can’t trust the police to find the real killer when all clues point to poor Walter. The dead man was beaten to death with Walter’s shovel several hours after they were overheard arguing, and the two men had a long history of enmity. Walter definitely looks guilty, but Heather is sure—well, almost positive—okay, she certainly hopes her friend and mentor is innocent.
  Heather is compelled to scour the fictional North Central Texas town of Gamble Grove to exonerate her old friend. She’s encouraged when the new police detective in town, Kurt Steele, shows interest in helping her look for clues.
The deeper Heather digs into the dead man’s life, the more she justifies his ruthless reputation. Walter is indicted, but police begin to suspect the victim’s stepson as murderer. Heather is convinced the stepson couldn’t have murdered anyone either—although it’s clear no love was lost between the two men. The attempted murder of the victim’s real son creates a new twist. Can Heather solve the murder without becoming the killer’s next victim?

SET UP:

Heather Cameron

Heather attends the murdered man’s funeral with her grandparents and great-grandmother. But I can’t tell you more or I’d have to kill you. ☺ No, the truth is that I simply don’t want to spoil the plot. Here’s line 7 of page 77 plus a bit more:

This time the organist got busy. A portly man I didn’t recognize walked forward and sang “How Great Thou Art.” Then, the minister took the lectern. He was known locally for long, rambling sermons. I was glad my family went to the Presbyterian Church a block away. I hoped he wouldn’t drone on or spout false virtues about the deceased. I’d heard Bootsy attended church here, but I wondered if the minister had even met Vance Rockwell.
During the times I’d met her, Bootsy had seemed a delightful, good-natured scatterbrain with an unchecked lavish sense of style. Her quiet weeping now unsettled me. No matter how much I disliked Rockwell, I couldn’t help sympathizing with his family.
In record time for this long-winded minister, the service was over. We all stood as the casket was carried out of the sanctuary, followed by the bereaved family. We waited our turn and filed out behind the others. Kurt spoke to Winston, the officer who’d been at the murder scene questioning Miguel and Steve, then both men left the church.
On the portico, we saw Kurt and Winston watching the Rockwell family drive away in a stretched black limousine.
Gigi poked Kurt’s arm. “Hello there, young man. I’m thinking about your marriage proposal. I may take you up on it.”
People within hearing turned to stare, saw it was Gigi, and went on their way. Something to be said for getting old and being able to say whatever you wished.

Kurt Steele

Kurt grinned. “Glad to hear it, Gigi. Sad occasion this, but how are you?”
“Any day a person my age goes to a funeral and it isn’t mine is a great day. You remember my granddaughter, Heather?”
Grandpa said, “He ought to, out strolling the town with her half the night.”
Beside Kurt, Winston coughed, and I had a feeling he covered a chortle. Kurt actually blushed, but he smiled at me and winked.
“I couldn’t let her walk around on her own, sir, and there was no talking her out of it.”
Grandpa shot me a glare then shook hands with Kurt. “You don’t have to tell me about this girl’s stubborn streak. Her mother was just the same. Appreciate you keeping an eye on her.”
He sounded as if I were ten and needed someone to hold my hand crossing the street. But I knew better than to protest and open that can of worms in public. “We’d better hurry to the car if you plan on going to the cemetery.”
Kurt offered his arm to Gigi. “Allow me to help you down the steps.”
Darned if she didn’t reward him with a flirty smile. “Always ready to have a handsome man escort me.” She looped her arm with his. “I hope they hired an extra awning. I’m not standing, especially not with the sun blazing on my skin.”
  “Must be why your complexion has remained so lovely.”
On the other side of him, I said, “Steele, you are so full of it.”
He only grinned as he stopped at the bottom of the steps and handed her off to me. “See you at the cemetery.”

I hope that tidbit teased your interest and you can’t wait to purchase this cozy mystery from Amazon, so here’s the BUY LINK:
http://www.amazon.com/DIGGING-Heather-Cameron-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0086PAIDK/ref=sr_1_11?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340754357&sr=1-11&keywords=caroline+clemmons

Now, I’m tagging Anna Kathryn Lanier, Vonnie Davis, Linda LaRoque, Linda Swift, Paisley Kirkpatrick, Susan Macatee, and Callie Hutton to either blog their 777 meme or post it on Facebook.

Thanks for stopping by!

THANK YOU TO LOYAL READERS!

Last week when I offered readers the gift of a free copy of my new cozy mystery, DIGGING FOR DEATH, I belatedly realized there were terrible formatting problems. My sincere apology! I immediately corrected the error, but to atone I’m once again offering the book FREE. Yep, free cozy mystery giveaway Monday, June 11, through Tuesday, June 12 on Amazon Kindle. One thing I would very much appreciate is IF you like the book, please put a favorable review on Amazon. If you hate the book (how could you hate my baby?) then please keep it a secret except to email me why so I can perhaps correct any plot errors in the next book.

The book’s protagonist is Heather Cameron, 28-years-old, who manages her family’s garden center and landscape firm. Her master’s degree from Texas A&M qualifies her to do a great job, but she is compelled to prove herself to her grandparents. Heather’s parents died when she was eight, and her grandparents, Meg and Richard Gillentine, along with her great-grandmother, Elizabeth “Gigi” Gamble Gillentine, raised her. Helping Heather is her assistant manager, Miguel Diaz, and her shop manager and best friend, Chelsea Bedford. Heather is excited that she scored a plum landscaping job, but the client’s husband is the meanest man in town, Vance Rockwell. What a jerk he is.  

Here’s a blurb about DIGGING FOR DEATH:

Garden center manager Heather Cameron is DIGGING FOR DEATH to prove her old family friend, mentor, and employee, Walter Sims, is innocent of murdering the meanest man in town. Heather can’t trust the police to find the real killer when all clues point to poor Walter. The dead man was beaten to death with Walter’s shovel several hours after they were overheard arguing, and the two men had a long history of enmity. Walter definitely looks guilty, but Heather is sure—well, almost positive—okay, she certainly hopes her friend and mentor is innocent.
  Heather is compelled to scour the fictional North Central Texas town of Gamble Grove to exonerate her old friend. She’s encouraged when the new police detective in town, Kurt Steele, shows interest in helping her look for clues. The deeper Heather digs into the dead man’s life, the more she justifies his ruthless reputation. Walter is indicted, but police begin to suspect the victim’s stepson as murderer. Heather is convinced the stepson couldn’t have murdered anyone either—although it’s clear no love was lost between the two men. The attempted murder of the victim’s real son creates a new twist. Can Heather solve the murder without becoming the killer’s next victim?

Here’s an excerpt:

Lining the Rockwell’s drive nearest the new garden plot were a fire engine, an ambulance, a van, what was probably an unmarked police car, two black and whites and—dang, wouldn't you know it?—the Gillentine Gardens truck. The muscles in my stomach were like vise grips clenched on my insides as I drove past the other vehicles and parked. Sickly dread overwhelmed me at what I might find.

I wanted to turn my car around and drive home and run up to my bed and pull the covers over my head. No such luxury for me. I climbed out of my car and strode quickly toward the crowd, swallowing down fear’s metallic taste in my mouth.

Container rose bushes destined for Bootsy Rockwell's garden almost filled the garden center’s staked-bed truck. Miguel Diaz sat on the truck’s bed with his feet dangling off the end. Steve Harris sat beside him. Bad vibes shot through me. A uniformed policeman and another man stood talking to Miguel. Miguel looked ashen and ill, but he nodded to me. Steve said nothing, merely hung his head.

"Hello, Heather." Miguel shook his head, despair evident in his sad brown eyes. "It's really bad."

"What's happened?"

The officer turned to me. "You know the whereabouts of Walter Sims?"

"He's supposed to be at the garden center. What's happened?" I repeated my question.

Steve looked up, but said nothing.

Miguel looked as if he were trying to send me some sort of signal. "Heather, it's—“

The man in plainclothes quieted Miguel with a glance as he stepped forward. Good heavens, what a giant. Must be six-four with shoulders broad as our truck. Even a long, tall Texas gal like myself had to look up to meet his gaze.

Whoa. What a gaze it was. Worried and puzzled as I was, I couldn’t fail to notice his eyes were delphinium blue and his dark hair the color of moist peat moss was cut short. He wasn’t GQ handsome, but definitely attractive.

"I take it you're Miss Cameron? I'm Detective Kurt Steele and this officer is Sergeant Jack Winston. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Not until I know what's happened. Why are you questioning Mr. Diaz and Mr. Harris?" Darn, stress must have fried my mind. I couldn’t believe I refused a detective.

"Vance Rockwell was murdered early this morning with Walter Sim’s shovel. We want to speak with Mr. Sims. No one here seems to know where he is.” He paused. “Do you?"

Rockwell dead and Walter missing? Panic rose with the bile in my throat.

No, please don’t let Walter be the killer.

At that moment, paramedics wheeled a gurney bearing a black body bag past the truck and loaded it into the ambulance. Oh Lord, Rockwell dead from Walter’s shovel? And Walter hated him.

Carole King was in my head, and the earth really did move. Dropping away from my feet, leaving me drifting. The sky tumbled down. Swirling, everything was swirling. Spiraling around me. I thought I might throw up or pass out—or both.

The detective stepped forward and grabbed my arm, anchoring me in the mixed up universe. "Miss Cameron? Maybe you should sit on the truck by Diaz and Harris."

But the sky still tumbled, the earth spiraled around me. I was a kid spinning until I was drunk with dizziness.  Sky flipped places with earth. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

"Yes...Yes, I’d better." With Detective Steele's help, I staggered to the truck. I shrugged off his hand intent on levering myself onto the bed. But I stood there as if in a trance. The detective hoisted me up onto the truck s if I were a kid. I sat there wondering if I were going to pass out.

I felt Miguel’s hand at my neck. “Your head, put it between your knees.”

I did as he instructed, closing my eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. When I straightened, my head was throbbing but the earth and sky had resumed their correct positions.  Sky above, earth below.
Willing my eyes to focus on the detective, I insisted, "Walter wouldn't bash in anyone's head." I prayed I spoke the truth.

Detective Steele referred to his notes. "It appears he and Mr. Rockwell had a heated argument yesterday about a quarter of five. Mr. Sims stalked to the truck—“he pointed at Steve”—where Harris waited, and peeled off."

Drat Walter, coming here when I’d ordered him to stay at the garden center. "If you consider anyone who argued with Rockwell a suspect, you'll be interviewing half the state." I almost included myself but thought better of it. "Besides, you said Walter left."

Sergeant Winston said, "Maybe he returned."

"Phffft." I peered at Detective Steele. "Sounds like you’re grasping at straws. What kind of detective work is that?"

Steele's clenched jaw displayed a small tic.

Oops, I shouldn’t have said that.

He stood directly in front of me and glared. "We just started the investigation. If we had some cooperation, maybe we could wrap this up in time to buy donuts before we take our lunch break."

Way to go, Heather. Not a good idea to annoy the police.

I took another deep breath. At this rate, I’d soon hyperventilate. “There’s no need for sarcasm. I don't know where Walter is, but I know he wouldn't kill anyone, not even Vance Rockwell."

He raised his eyebrows, making his nice blue eyes more noticeable, darn him. "Not even? What does that mean?"

"Rockwell was not a popular man. I imagine you'll find a long, long list of people with motives, detective. Leave Walter alone." I glanced at Miguel slumped beside me and patted his shoulder. "Leave all my employees alone. None of them would have done such a thing."

Detective Steele poised his pen over his notebook. "Where were you just after midnight, Miss Cameron?"

I thought again about his nice blue eyes, but pushed those thoughts aside because of his nasty question. "In my apartment. Asleep."

He raised one eyebrow.

I shot him a glare. "Alone."

"So, you have no alibi?"

"People who live alone never have an alibi. That doesn't mean they're guilty of anything more serious than drinking juice from the carton."

He pulled out a business card and handed it over. "We'll be in touch. Call me if you hear from Mr. Sims."

"Can Mr. Diaz and Mr. Harris go?"

Detective Steele nodded. Miguel and Steve slid off the truck bed to the ground, and Miguel helped me down. While they walked to the truck's cab, the detective speared me with another no-nonsense glare.

"If you hear from Walter Sims, you'll be doing him a favor if you convince him to call us. We need to talk to him, and the sooner the better."

I turned and walked back to my Honda. My heartbeat fluttered and my throat threatened to close so I couldn’t breathe. I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to the car, but I climbed in and turned the ignition.

Here’s the link:
http://www.amazon.com/DIGGING-Heather-Cameron-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0086PAIDK/ref=sr_1_22?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1338736184&sr=1-22

The next book in the series is DIGGING FOR BONES, but it’s probably not going to be released until 2013. However, I do plan to release DIGGING FOR DEATH in print in the very near future.

And if you enjoy mysteries with a sheriff protagonist, you might also enjoy ALMOST HOME, a Link Dixon mystery.
http://www.amazon.com/Almost-Home-Dixon-Series-ebook/dp/B005J865J8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1339192012&sr=1-1

Happy reading! Thanks for stopping by!

REVIEW OF DANCE OF THE WINNEBAGOS

DANCE OF THE WINNEBAGOS

by Ann Charles

On assignment from her mother, Claire Morgan has the thankless job of keeping her grandfather, Harley Ford, out of trouble. He and his army buddies have been surfing the senior singles sites and convinced a group of potential lady-loves to meet them at the Dancing Winnebago RV Park in Jackrabbit Junction, Arizona for their annual reunion. Traveling with her grandfather and his beagle, Henry Ford, is no picnic. Both males snore, and Claire has learned way more than she ever wanted to know about her grandfather’s love life and medical problems on the trip from South Dakota.

 The RV park is owned by Ruby Martino, a widow and favorite of all the campers. Ruby hires Claire to help out in the park store, giving Claire a welcome break from her grandfather, his two  friends, their cigars, talk of women, and endless card games of Bid Euchre. She doesn't even mind the periodic tantrums of Ruby's rebellious teenaged daughter, Jess.

But Ruby is up against a bank deadline, fearing she will have to sell the land that surrounds the park to a mining company or go bankrupt. That’s why her geotechnician nephew, MacDonald “Mac” Garner comes from Tuscon for a three-week visit. He is determined to help his Aunt Ruby assess the mining company offer even if she is too proud to accept his offer of a cash loan. Mac vows to see his aunt nets every dime of the land's worth.

The ashes of Claire’s grandmother are scattered on that land, and Claire doesn’t want the site turned into a copper strip mine. She’s determined to help Ruby keep her acreage so mining excavations will never disturb the beautiful valley and ridges where grandmother’s ashes reside.

When Harley's dog digs up a bone that looks like a human femur, Claire wrestles it from the annoyed beagle. That bone is the beginning of a complicated mystery that throws Claire and Mac together, not that either minds, even though they disagree about the best results for Ruby. As the tension heats between Mac and Claire, they find themselves in the cross-hairs of the army threesome. Between her grandfather and his friends, Ruby, and Jess, Claire has given up on privacy. What can she do? As Mac says when the three buddies turn their interest in his direction, “Sometimes it's easier to drown than to fight the undercurrent.” But someone is determined to prevent Mac and Claire from investigating the mines--at any cost. I can’t tell you more without spoiling this terrific cozy mystery.

Ann Charles

Ann Charles' story is funny, engaging, and well crafted. It’s no wonder DANCE OF THE WINNEBAGOS was a 2005 finalist in the Pacific Northwest Writer’s Association Contest. I’m only surprised the book didn’t win first place. The book is available from Smashwords now. If you love mystery and humor, this is a book you’ll enjoy.

Please return on Monday when I tell you about another book you'll enjoy if you love history and/or historic mysteries.


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