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Monday, April 7, 2014

NEW! Mystery Monday

Theft, secrets, lies, intrigue, murder, espionage, or the unexplainable. Does your novel have something to hide? Post a 300-word teaser to keep us guessing, but don't give too much away! Be sure to add your website/blog link and one link to where your other books can be found. Example: Your Amazon Author's Page.
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Come see my snippet on Exquisite Quills' Mystery Monday!    


Rose Anderson said...

Today I'm offering a snippet from the real-life mystery not too far from my home. I wrote a series around it about an ancient Native American shaman whose life intersects with a veterinarian on the eve he plans to end his life. I give you the opener to The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo.
The True Beginning

Ten years ago, a reporter for a small-town newspaper heard word of strange dawn and dusk sightings of a wolf-like creature roaming the Wisconsin countryside. Her investigation revealed the local police officials had initially taken these calls lightly, but this had changed when calls began coming from upstanding citizens.
Authorities had determined what these eyewitnesses had actually seen was a lone wolf broken off from a pack running in the wilds of northern Wisconsin. Young male wolves seeking to start a new pack are known to strike off on their own. Leaving the vast stretches of wooded landscape, they might travel one hundred miles in a day. It seemed likely. However, the witnesses were adamant that what they’d seen had been no ordinary wolf. This wolf walked like a man.
Intrigued, the reporter collected the stories. To her surprise, other witnesses came forward telling of sightings that they’d never reported. In fact, some eyewitness accounts had occurred more than seventy years prior, the details only whispered to relatives who were sworn to secrecy lest friends and neighbors think heavy drinking was involved. These stories she also collected, for she knew hushed secrecy was not a direction fame-seekers usually take.
More curious now, the reporter deepened her investigation and uncovered another bizarre detail: the sightings were mentioned in ancient oral traditions of the Native Americans in the region. In those tales, dog men or witchy wolves looked after burial mounds in much the same way jackal-headed Anubis guarded the tombs of ancient Egypt. And even more bizarre, early French explorers knew of them too. They called these wolf-men the loup-garou.
Read this and other chapter samplings of my unusual love stories for FREE

Visit my main blog for updates and more. Stop by all month long for the A to Z Challenge!
And the Authors in Bloom event starts today!

James D said...

From the first book of the Dream Series, DREAM STUDENT...Sara learns that the strange dreams she's been having are even stranger than she could have imagined...

“Yes, I can imagine what you saw. I’m sorry.” He has the decency not to look me in the eye as he says it. “But you have to see this,” he goes on, giving me the papers he was looking at, printouts of–I assume–my EEG readings. I force myself to focus on it. Anything to keep those images out of my head. Calm. Relax. I can do that. I have to.

“Right there. Something happened. Your delta waves just changed–it’s as though the monitor was switched on to someone else right in the middle of the session.” He’s pointing at a spot on the reading where it goes all of a sudden from nice straight lines to jagged up-and-down.

That’s it, that’s exactly it. I don’t know much about brainwaves or what they’re supposed to look like, but a sudden change like that has to mean something. For whatever it’s worth, this is proof. I’m seeing what he’s dreaming about. Somehow. “It’s not me. Not my dream. It’s his dream.”

“This can’t be right. This doesn’t happen. The only possible way you would ever see something even remotely like this,” Dr. Ritter says, more to himself than to me, “is if there was a sudden traumatic event, a seizure or something similar. And even then it wouldn’t be this extreme.”

I agree completely. “OK, so I’m not crazy, it’s really happening. Tell me what I’m supposed to do about it.”

He remembers I’m sitting right here. He frowns. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Miss Barnes. I’m going to have all the equipment checked over. That has to be the explanation. There has to have been some sort of malfunction, some kind of error with the computer. Otherwise, this,” he waves the printout, “is simply impossible.”

He’s wrong. Well, it is impossible, that’s true, but it’s happening just the same... - or visit my site at

Jean Joachim said...

From Now and Forever 3, Blind Love. Two cousins meet.One is leaving NYC quickly to avoid getting killed and bunks with his seemingly innocent cousin in a small university town.
“It depends on how good business goes here. This is a pretty small town. Can’t be too much going on here, if you know what I mean.”
“You might be wrong. For a blackmailer there are secrets everywhere.”
“True. This might work. Its never-ending money no matter where you live,” Rex said and laughed.
“Don’t get any ideas about blackmailing me, okay?” Alan said, nervously.
“You doing something I should know about?” Rex asked, his interest piqued.
“I lead a quiet, academic life.” Alan shook his head.
Rex looked at Alan’s face with new interest. Alan was definitely hiding something.
“Where’s Beth?” Rex asked, his eyes searching the room.
“She took off with a grad student about three years ago.”
“Too bad. Or are you a busy bachelor?”
“I don’t date much. Not many women here I’d be interested in.”
“Where does a bachelor go here to get some action?” Rex asked.
“The local strip club, The Wet Tee Shirt might be a place to start.”
“Ever been there?”’
“A couple of times.” Alan coughed.
“Can you get laid there? Chicks got good bodies there?”
“They’re okay.,”
“Only okay? What…you into guys now?” Rex asked, raising his eyebrows.

* * * *

“No, no, after a while, they all look the same.” Alan crossed his legs.
Alan did fine getting laid. Pressuring failing female students to sleep with him for a good grade worked. Maybe he was into a type of blackmail. He provided a service for payment. Tit for tat, he laughed to himself. He was a merchant of grades, with no income tax to pay on his gross receipts.
“Hey, Alan, they are all the same. Topless joint might be a good place for me to work.”
“It’s the closest thing we have to a nightclub here.”
This book includes 3 romances, 3 mysteries, murder and steamy love scenes. It's only $2.99

B.J. McCall said...


She’s a dragon. He’s human. They’re both undercover, but on opposing sides. She’s his prisoner. Opposites attract.

A sharp pain pulled Velka into consciousness. She was flat on her back on a hard surface and something was digging into her butt check. High above her was a starry sky framed by broken metal and jagged glass.

Where the hell was she? And what was around her neck?

Velka touched the metal collar. Realization arrived with abject fear on its heels.

Control collars were used by police forces to prevent werewolves, felines, and dragons from shifting. She wiggled her fingers and toes, tested her limbs. Everything worked. Velka glanced around, assessing her situation.

She was lying on the floor in the center of a rotunda supported by Greek columns. She must have fallen through the glass roof and shifted the second she landed. The shift would have taken care of any wounds inflicted during the fall.

Her gaze slid past a huge vase of fresh flowers and came to rest on a very good-looking man with sun-streaked hair and brown eyes.

Dressed in dark cargo pants, a black t-shirt, and wearing a shoulder holster, he was sitting on a fragile salon chair. With an ankle squared over a knee, he appeared relaxed, but the automatic resting casually against his left thigh said otherwise.

Her gaze flicked back to his lean face. Despite his laid-back posture, Velka saw something in his eyes that told her he’d react with lethal force if she moved.

“Who are you?”

He pulled up the right sleeve of his shirt.

The V tattooed on his upper arm confirmed her worst fears. He was a Vigilante and she was his prisoner.

Anonymous said...

When Callie Taylor died, she expected heaven or hell. She got Alabama.


As Molly straightened up, the man slipped the wire over her head and twisted it around her neck. She struggled, but he pulled the garrote tighter and tighter.

I was screaming at the top of my ghostly voice, for all the good it did me. I moved up behind the man and beat at his back with closed fists--fists that slipped in and out of his back without ever making real contact. He shuddered a little--clearly he was one of the very slightly sensitive ones--but he didn’t loosen his hands.

I reached up and tried to grab the wire, tried to pull against the pressure he was exerting on the wire and it did loosen for an instant. But only for an instant. The living have more control over solid objects than the dead do. I never resented that fact more than at that moment.

But I kept trying. I kept trying as Molly’s face turned purple, then blue, then black, kept trying even as she drooped in the man’s grip.

Then he loosened the wire and it was too late. I watched that wispy, light-on-fog life force slip out of Molly and move on to wherever it is that other people go when they die. I was glad she didn’t show up next to me as a full-blown ghost. At that moment, I wouldn’t have wished my impotent half-existence on anyone.
I couldn’t help thinking that if I’d been alive, I might have been able to save her.

If I could have cried real tears, I would have. As it was, I was sobbing hoarsely and calling the man every dirty name I could think of.

I was still cursing as I followed him around the kitchen. First he opened the pantry and pulled out a box of Hefty garbage bags. Then he grabbed a knife out of the block on the counter. And finally, he picked up Molly’s body and carried it to the bathroom.


Waking Up Dead:

Tara Maya said...

Hood & Fae (Daughters of Little Red Riding Hood) is an Urban Fantasy novella that will be released April 15, 2014 in the special collection Faery Realms: Ten Magical Titles.

Roxy Hood is just trying to make ends meet, to pay her mom’s medical bills. Sure, Roxy takes on some jobs of, ahem, dubious integrity, like pretending that she can speak to the dead. But hey, that’s harmless. It's not like a malevolent ghoul is going to attack her. Or a sexy billionaire will show up trying to buy her red jacket. Or a werewolf will attack Granny Rose. Because that would be whacked.

My phone dropped from my hand but I was too stunned by the stranger standing on my front doorstep to notice. He locked his brilliant green eyes on mine and I couldn’t move, or even breathe.

If sexy caused earthquakes, he’d be a Magnitude Wow.

Maybe he was a movie star. That would explain the limo. Hollywood wasn’t far. All sorts of unlikely people showed up, even after six years, to consult my mother.
His suit whispered money. Black suit, black shirt, black tie, black on black, black as a black hole wrapped around his body, stealing light and capturing it into permanent orbit. Underneath the CEO slick, though, he could have been a Navy Seal with that physique. He exuded so much Raw Male, he erased every man I’d ever met from my working memory; I couldn’t even picture last night’s one-hit-wonder any more. All I could see were those emerald eyes in that chiseled marble face. His skin was too pale—he sure didn’t work outside—during the day—but his tightly cropped bullion hair had a military flair. He smelled like all-night-sex on hot sand over a buried fire pit. Opaque heat radiated from him, as if he were a hidden sun in human form, scorching without illuminating, burning in the dark. I wrenched my eyes away from his intense gaze. I could feel my heart sprint like a deer fleeing an erupting volcano.
He didn’t look like the type who believed in ghosts.

Yet…there was an edge to his almost-smile that suggested he might be a man haunted by something.

“Roxy Hood.” He made my name sound dirty, in the most delicious way. He had an accent, antique and British, with something more dangerous and exotic folded inside the cultured cadence. “I believe you dropped this.”

Hood & Fae is the first in a new Urban Fantasy series Daughters of Little Red Riding Hood by Tara Maya, author of The Unfinished Song, a romantic epic fantasy series. For a short time only, it will be available for a special price of just $0.99 in the collection Faery Realms: Ten Magical Titles. Visit my blog, Tara Maya’s Tales ( to pick up a free review copy.

Rita said...


Rita said...


Rita said...

Point of No Return, is a thriller filled with romance and political intrigue.
Marine Major Honey Thornton and contract spy, Jack O'Brien, investigate kidnappings of military children and mysterious deaths of Jack’s family. As they navigate the murky political waters of the Pentagon, and private armies, it’s hard to know who’s lying to your face, and who’ll stab you in the back.

The rental car’s GPS guided Major Honey Thornton from the highway to a winding two-lane road and now urged her to turn where a mostly rusted and bullet-riddled sign indicated TN Lake Road 2 something. Several holes obliterated the rest of the number. She took the turn. The car’s tires skidded over the dirt and gravel, raising a cloud of dust and obscuring her vision of the road ahead. She sighed. It was the same with her investigation. Nothing was clear. In her intelligence work there had always been a clear enemy. Not now. Everyone on her list could be considered a friendly. Working with friendlies required a whole new skill set. Hell, even figuring who the friendlies were required a spreadsheet. It had all seemed so straightforward in the beginning. Get in. Do the job. Answer all the whys. Ramsey and Saunders were definitely in the friendly camp. No ulterior motives. Baffled as to the why, but definitely felt Global was suspect. The jury was out on Moore being in the friendly camp. His leading her to think there could be another ongoing investigation was crap. She was his ulterior motive and he was a general taking orders from his privates. Bristol. Now he was as far from friendly as he could get. What the fuck caused him to risk doing what he did yesterday? She needed a diesel shit sucker to get to the bottom of this steaming, stinking pile of crap.
O’Brien was the problem now. Separating the fact they were lovers and convincing the ex-CIA, contract spy to trust and work with her would be like brain surgery. Done very carefully.

JoAnne Myers said...

From author JoAnne Myers:

BLURB: When two dismembered torsos wash up on the banks of the local river in the small industrial town of Pleasant Valley, residents are horrified. Between contradicting statements, police ineptitude, lust, lies, manipulation, incest, the motorcycle gang The Devil’s Disciples, crooked cops, and a botched crime scene, everyone becomes a suspect.

The young beautiful Jackie Reeves, a registered nurse, believes the killer is a man from her past. She contacts the dangerously handsome FBI Agent Walker Harmon. An arrest is made, but Harmon and Jackie believe an innocent man is being railroaded by local cops. How far will these lover’s go to solve this heinous crime before anymore killings. Determined to find the truth, Agent Harmon and Jackie are forced to run a gauntlet of deep trouble and turmoil, which marks them for death.

“Murder Most Foul,” solving a double homicide is pure murder for F.B.I. Agent Walker Harmon.

JoAnne Myers said...

Excerpt for "Murder Most Foul" by JoAnne Myers

EXCERPT: Undaunted and short on patience, the agent stared at the fat jerk sitting before him gleefully puffing on a cigar, most likely homegrown in Detroit, Michigan, not Cuba. “I attend the Kingdom Hall on occasion,” he said.
“Well most of us like Malloy. He's helped rid this town of criminals. He was a volunteer firefighter, and his wife cooks for the annual policeman's ball. Hell, Malloy even coached volleyball for the kids when he wuz younger. Now a person who does that ain't all bad,” the chief declared.
Barstow's sudden burst of energy to safeguard his fishy friend, picqued Harmon's interest. What had Malloy done? He decided he wasn't leaving until he had the full, sordid story.
“So you and Malloy are pals, and he did something he couldn't get out of, and you tried to salvage his job, but the big shots said, ‘No!' Is that how it went?” Harmon asked.
“Yeah, Malloy did somethin’ real stupid.”
“I'm listening,” Harmon replied.
“The rumors of Malloy allowin' his friends and family members to snoop through the cornfield, and photograph the area after the victims were removed, was true. Everyone is curious about this crime. Nothin' this big ever happened in this town before, and the pictures were for souvenirs, you know. Then after the limbs were removed, he brought in a back hoe, and tore up the whole damned crime scene, involving Thomas.” The chief growled in disgust.
“Yeah, that was stupid,” Harmon said. “So Malloy's unethical conduct was the reason the disciplinary board was in session?”
“Yep, they made their decision this mornin',” the chief said. “He's out. There was nothin' I could do for him.”
“You'd think a cop with over twenty years’ experience would demonstrate better reasoning then destroy evidence. Unless he's covering his own tracks,” Harmon said realizing what he was implying. “Do you believe Malloy committed the murders?”
“Now, I didn't say that. A lot of officers were on this case, so a lot of mistakes happened. We never dealt with this type crime before. Many might have made the same mistakes Malloy did.”
Dismissing the chief's excuses for Malloy's incompetence, Harmon demanded an answer. He was tired of being duped by the local cops and wanted the truth, and wanted it now. Standing and placing both palms on the chief's shiny desk, the agent looked the chief square in his squinty brown eyes and said, “Cough it up, Chief! There's more to it then that. If
there were numerous mistakes made by officers other then Malloy, why was he the only one kicked off the force? Now spit it out! What the hell did Malloy do?”
“All right, all right!” the chief whined, “Malloy screwed the dead girl three weeks before she was killed–and got caught!”
The Agent was speechless. Walking to the window overlooking Main Street, he stared vacantly. Hadn't one of our witnesses suggested something like that? But–with the crisp wind howling, the citizens dining in the local caf├ęs, others window shopping for Christmas or starting their shift at the town's businesses–this seems unreal. How can such a seemingly sweet country town be so full of bad apples, savage murders, police misconduct and corruption, evidence tampering? This town is certainly no Mayberry, thought Harmon.

“Murder Most Foul,” in EPub, HTML, PDF

For Paperback:

Anonymous said...

No Strings Attached
Laura Todd isn’t the type to have a hot weekend with a complete stranger in Las Vegas, but Fox Thornton is different. He’s funny, and smart, and he really liked her presentation on marketing. But she never expected him to turn up at her office the Monday after as her new boss.
Fox Thornton keeps business separate from pleasure. He never would have spent the weekend with Laura if he knew she worked for the office where he’s been hired to find out why the office is losing money. Unfortunately, he thinks someone is cooking the books, and the best suspect is Laura.
Which is the real Laura, the smart and funny consultant he met in Vegas, or the scheming administrative assistant he finds in Miami? Over a million dollars is missing, and he will do what he has to do, even it means sending the blonde beauty to prison.
In this short snippet, the two main characters are in a coffee shop after she learns he’s her new boss:
"I take it you got my message in Las Vegas?" Fox asked.
"Kirby called my room and said you had to leave unexpectedly. I guess now I know why. Here I just thought you were giving me the brush-off." Laura attempted a short laugh, but it came out sounding more like a bark. This was too much. He was supposed to be her throwaway one-night stand, and now she had to work for him.
"This wasn't planned. Not like you think." He unwrapped the second biscuit.
"You knew who I was in Las Vegas, didn't you?" Laura couldn't shake the feeling that she had stepped off a curb and into the path of an eighteen-wheel truck. She sipped her latte, still trying to get a handle on her emotions.
He shrugged. "I knew the company name, glanced at your profile on the company website." He leaned forward. "Occupancy 100 was on your nametag and listed in the conference directory. It didn't take a lot of investigative skills."
Laura drew a breath at his patronizing tone, which sounded like he was trying to calm down an escaped mental patient. "Exactly. You knew where I worked, and you knew you were coming here. You set me up."
Fox sighed. "Not quite."
"Then if it wasn’t a setup, what was it?"
"It’s complicated. While I own Thornton Enterprises, I do a lot of business with Venture Capital Holdings. I was asked to help a consulting firm in Miami. By the time I realized the company name, it was too late."
"That whole time you were pumping me for information."
"If I recall, any time we talked about our jobs, you were the one to bring it up." He spoke slowly, as if she needed extra time to understand him.

No Strings Attached is 240 pages of romance with an overarching mystery and a bit of suspense thrown in. This contemporary romance starts in Vegas and travels through Miami, the Bahamas, and Atlanta. It kicks off the City Lights Series, a group of connected romances that mostly stand alone. While there’s enough intimacy to establish a connection and the bedroom door’s not closed, it’s more about the characters than the sex.

Shortcut to Amazon:
Links to my blog page, which has buy links to all the other stores, and a longer excerpt if you’re interested:

Karen McCullough said...

A QUESTION OF FIRE by Karen McCullough

Blurb: When Cathy Bennett agrees to attend an important party as a favor for her boss, she knows she won't enjoy it. But she doesn't expect to end up holding a dying man in her arms and becoming the recipient of his last message. Bobby Stark has evidence that will prove his younger brother has been framed for arson and murder. He wants that evidence to get to his brother's lawyer, and he tries to tell Cathy where he's hidden it. But he dies before he can give her more than a cryptic piece of the location.
The man who killed Bobby saw him talking to her and assumes she knows where the evidence is hidden. He wants it back and he'll do whatever it takes to get it, including following her and trying to kidnap her.
Cathy enlists the aid of attorney Peter Lowell and Danny Stark, Bobby's prickly, difficult younger brother, as well as a handsome private detective to help her find the evidence before the killers do.


The word slithered from the bushes behind her, startling Catherine Bennett out of the few wits she'd managed to recover in the peace of the dark, quiet garden. Thready strains of violin music and the buzz of voices drifted across the lawn from the open door to the house. In the light spilling out from it, she could distinguish a couple of people sitting at a table on the deck. Cathy measured the distance with her eye. A good, heavy-duty scream would be heard, even over the party noises.

"Please, miss!" Tense urgency drove the voice as it called again.

She didn't need this. The evening had been disastrous enough already and a man hiding in the garden spelled trouble with capital letters. She got up and backed away, while turning to face the source of the call.

"Don't run away, please," the voice begged. "I won't hurt you. I promise. I just want to ask you something."

A ring of sincerity in the pleading tone kept her from sprinting straight back to the house, an action the more cautious part of her brain urged. Cathy strained for a look at the person in the shrubbery. The voice was male and adult, though probably not very old. "Come out where I can see you," she demanded.

"Shhh!" he ordered in a fierce whisper. Leaves rustled, and a slender shape detached itself from the bushes. In the darkness she couldn't distinguish his features.

A QUESTION OF FIRE is a 95,000-word romantic suspense novel. It's currently on sale for just $1.99.
More info and longer excerpt:

Jana Richards said...

When psychic Leah McKenna “sees” the abduction of a small boy, she knows she must help find him, no matter the danger to herself. David Logan, the boy’s uncle, doesn’t believe in psychic phenomenon. He believes Leah knows who kidnapped his nephew, and plans to stick close to her to discover the truth. As they search for Jeremy they uncover truths about themselves and the way they feel about each other. Can Leah convince him her visions, and her love for him, are real before time runs out for all of them?

In this short excerpt, Leah is describing to David the little boy she saw in her vision:

She opened her eyes once more and met David Logan's blue stare.

"Very impressive, Ms. McKenna, but you haven't told me anything you couldn't have gotten from the police or my nephew's school."

"We didn't give Leah your nephew's description. She came up with that on her own," Detective Hampton assured David.

"I haven't spoken to anyone at your nephew's school. To be honest, I don't even know which school he goes to," Leah said.

"What's my nephew's name?" David challenged.

"I don't know," Leah replied, looking unflinchingly into his eyes. "My abilities seem to be more with clairvoyance then with telepathy." David's blank expression told her he didn't know the difference and probably didn't care, but she decided to explain anyway.

"If I were telepathic, you could pick a card from a deck, look at it, and I could tell you which card you picked from reading your thoughts. As a clairvoyant, I have better success if you pick a card and place it face down without looking at it. I concentrate on the card itself to determine which one it is."

He appeared unconvinced, but Leah couldn't worry about that right now. Something nagged at her, something she'd missed previously. She closed her eyes once more.

"He's not wearing mitts. That's strange for February. There's something on his hand, his right hand. I think... on his index finger. It's a blemish of some sort. A cut, I think, and covered with a bandaid. Did he cut himself with a paring knife?" She opened her eyes.

The color had drained from Logan's face. He straightened in his chair, and after a long moment, nodded at Leah. "Yes, he has a small cut on his right index finger. His name is Jeremy."

Thanks for reading my short snippet. For more information on SEEING THINGS, please go to my website or to my publisher, Uncial Press. Happy reading!

ML Skye said...


Today, I'm sharing a mysterious peek from Down in Mexico, book one from the South of the Border series by my alter ego Skylin O'Thomas.

A little background… Kiernan and Lars have a sweet reunion after five years apart, but Lars isn't being completely up front.


Kier picked up her glass, sipped the wine, contemplating.
"I learned to shoot. Small arms for the most part, but I know how to sight and fire a rifle." Her hand twirled the glass and her gaze turned hard. "It may be overkill, but I keep a handgun in the house, my shop, the car. I have two on my boat along with a rifle." She raised her eyes to his. "I didn't plan to make it easy for them to kill me."

She wouldn't. Even without the small arsenal, she'd have put up a hell of a fight before going down. It was in her nature to battle back.

Lars reached across the table and laced his fingers with her free hand. "You were smart, Kier. You had no way of knowing what would happen after you left."

She shrugged a shoulder. "There have been several times over the last five years that I've felt like something was off. Not quite right." She squeezed his hand. "It'll take some getting used to… this being safe thing."

Shit. He had to come clean. Now.

He had a feeling it wouldn't be pretty.

"Uh, Kier, about that." He took a deep breath and just spit it out.
"You may not be that far off base thinking something's not quite kosher."

Her brow knit with confusion. "But I thought you said—"

"I did. I lied."

Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. So many emotions crossed her face he couldn't keep up with them.

She got up and paced the kitchen. "What exactly did you lie about?"


I hope you enjoyed the sneak peek.

Down in Mexico is available at Amazon


Please stop by my blog for more snippets
Visit my website

Thanks for reading!

Rose Anderson said...

What a great bunch of snippets today. Thanks for joining in everyone. Come back tomorrow for Tickle Us Tuesday.