Pamela Ackerson Dragons of Mu Book Tour and Giveaway

 

The Eternals, a non-magical woman as the Chosen One, Marfóir, and her best friend join in the battle to slay the most evil dragon on earth who’s plan is to take over the world.

Dragons of Mu

by Pamela Ackerson

Genre: Epic Fantasy Adventure

Drakine is rising. The only hope is the hero no one expected.

One non-magical woman is the Chosen One. Destiny won’t wait. With her fiercely loyal friend, Lottie, by her side, and Blaze’s army behind her, Amy is thrust into a war against the most evil dragon ever to preside over the dragon realm on the Island of Mu. A creature whose heinous ambition is nothing less than total annihilation of the mortal world and complete global domination.

To survive, they must fight the ancient powers and unite the fractured kingdoms. The Island of Mu is burning… and only she can turn the tide. Grab your copy today.

 

**Releases June 26^th - PreOrder Now for Only .99cents!**

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She rubbed the back of her head, felt a small lump, and winced. Her head was throbbing. Her knee was yelling at her and now she heard angry, men’s voices.

One of them yelled, “Over there! There she is. Get her!”

Another pulled out a long knife and they ran toward her.

Amy rushed into the woods. Turning around, she could see they were catching up to her.

Up, Amy, up. They won’t be looking up.

She climbed an oak tree as high as she could. Pulling on the long skirt, she squatted on a branch.

The branch felt odd and slithered underneath her. A large, looming face in the shape of a dragon stared at her unblinking.

Holy cr—

The creature put a long claw to its mouth and said, “Shhh.”

Amy took a deep breath. A scream was building inside her but before she could release the ear-piercing screech, she was muzzled by the creature. Her heart jolted as its wing enveloped her and she lost consciousness.

A few moments later, she was gulping for air. Fully expecting to open her eyes and see the hotel lobby, she was stunned to be staring into the eyes of a dragon.

–A dragon, a huge dragon with big, green eyes.

You’re safe.

Amy shook her head. “No. No, I’m not. There’s no okay in this, whatever this is at all. This is crazy. Why is this happening?”

Where did you come from?

She stared at his mouth. It wasn’t moving.

This hallucination was freaking weird. A talking dragon that didn’t move his lips. They’re going to take her away and leave her in the psych ward for the rest of her life.

Her eye began twitching. It wasn’t real. None of it makes sense.

Think, Amy. Dragons aren’t real. How could a dragon talk?

Anything can happen in a hallucination. She repeated to herself. This isn’t real.

Was she dead? Is this purgatory? Her own personal nightmare of an afterlife? Could she have injured herself so badly that she died?

She wasn’t a bad person. It certainly wasn’t in Hades. Well, it better not be Hades.

A talking, psychic dragon communicating with his mind.

Of course, it makes soooo much more sense.

She watched as the men ran into the woods, searching for her.

The dragon spoke in a deep, soothing voice, “Why are you dressed in that garb?”

Amy stared at the huge beast.

The beast’s green eyes penetrated her with a questioning glare.

“A— a party. We were going to a party.”

He looked at the bracelet.

“Someone put them in my shopping bag.”

“Let’s go. We need to get you into normal clothing. I’ll take you to Bev’s.”

Amy started climbing down the tree.

“No, no.” The dragon grabbed her and placed Amy on his back before taking flight.

Amy squealed, inhaled and released another louder scream.

“Stop.” His body jolted. “Your obnoxious squawking is impaling my ears.”

Within a few moments, they soared through the air and flew from cloud to cloud.

Her stomach flipped and she swallowed the huge lump in her throat.

“Ugh, no ups and downs, please.”

He laughed. “No quick drops? You’re the slow-boat kind of person.”

Her heart was finally returning to its normal beat. She was getting comfortable riding on his back and was beginning to enjoy the view.

“Whoa! This is awesome. I never have flying dreams.”

The dragon huffed.

Amy was mesmerized. It was freaking fantastic. The warm heat from the sun and soft air on her face, the flapping of his wings, it was glorious.

She could do this. It was peaceful. He was gliding along and she was euphoric.

Hold on.

“Hold on? No, don’t ruin the moment!”

The dragon took a deep dive. Amy let out an earsplitting shriek and gripped the back of his neck tighter as he gracefully landed on the ground in front of a small, wooden cabin.

He grunted in pain.

“Your fingernails are cutting into my skin.”

“Sorry.” Amy dismounted him like she would a horse.

“You don’t look like you’re sorry.”

She gave him an angry side-eye.

He grumbled, “Go. Tell her I sent you.”

“Um. You want me to knock on a stranger’s door, in the middle of BFE, and tell her a dragon sent me?”

 “We’re not in Egypt.”

She snapped, “What? We’re in the middle of freaking nowhere. That’s what BFE means!”

Ignoring her irritation, he responded, “We’re in Ireland.”

 “Ireland? I’ve never been to Ireland. How am I dreaming that I’m here? I’ve only seen pictures and this in not anything like the pictures.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I don’t have a passport with me!”

She rubbed her forehead. Why would she need a passport in a dream?

“No worries.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I’ll be back in a blink. In the meantime, tell her Blaze sent you.”

“Oh, look. A fairy circle.”

His wide-eyed, incredulous stare gave her pause. He shook his head. “Wow.”

She shrugged.

“I can’t keep up with you.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. My mind goes really fast sometimes.” She limped toward the fairy circle.

“What are you doing?”

Amy chuckled. “Making a wish.”

He looked at her like she was growing horns.

“Um, yeah. Make a wish and the fairies will grant it only if they see fit. You have to watch out for all the fairies protecting the fairy circle. You don’t want to step on them, you know.”

Amy stepped back from the circle. “Hello, little fairies. I hope you’re having a pleasant day.”

He harrumphed and walked away.

“Hey, it’s my dream. I can do what I want.”

Amy raised her hand to knock, but never made contact. An elderly woman, in her mid-seventies, opened the door.

“Oh, I thought I heard Blaze’s voice.”

“I’m Amy. He told me to tell you—”

The woman opened the door wider. “Come in. The sun’s going to be setting soon and it’ll be a bit chilly.”

The elderly woman had light hair, dark blue eyes, and a wide, pleasant smile. Her hair was rolled up into a bun tucked on the back of her head. Amy’s memories immediately went to the cartoon with the grandma lady who owned the canary, Tweety.

Amy cautiously entered the house and as she turned to look about, a man rushed through the doorway.

He was an average-looking man except for his eyes. They gleamed an effervescent green. The man’s dark hair was a deep contrast to his light skin.

She never cared for the five o’clock shadow but it did do him justice.

“There you are, Blaze.” She handed him a mug.

“Thank you, Bev.”

“Mark on his way?”

“Soon. He has a few things he needs to take care of before he comes.”

Mark? As in Harlow?

Bev turned to Amy. “What would you like, dear? I’ve got some hot tea on the table or, if it pleases, I can pour another draught.”

“T—”

“She needs normal clothes.”

Amy glared at Blaze. “And who are you?”

“I’m the man who saved your skinny bum and brought you here.”

“And how, pray tell, did you do that? A dragon…” Her voice trailed off.

Bev looked puzzled. “So, she’s not from medieval times?”

“No.”

“She didn’t time-travel here?”

“No.”

Time travel? Amy interrupted, “I can speak for myself.”

“Really?” He snorted. “Go ahead, darling, and explain how you got here.”

“Fine. I was at a party.” Amy flipped her hand in the air. “I tucked the jeweled comb in my wig and the next thing I knew, these men attacked me and I’ve been having this dream or possibly been unconscious ever since.”

Blaze sat at the table. “You’re not unconscious.”

“Then you tell me what’s happening.”

Bev took her arm. “Oh, sweetie, it’s been a day for you, hasn’t it? Sit, relax, and have a cuppa. I’ll get you some clothes that should fit you. We’ll get you all sorted out.”

The concern in Bev’s voice was telling.

Wariness clung to Amy as a hesitant smile tugged at her lips, a stark contrast to how she was feeling.

“I don’t need clothes. I just want to wake up.”

Bev asked, “Wake up?”

Blaze waved Bev’s question off and spoke to Amy, “Somehow, you’ve managed to get two very powerful and magical relics to bring you here. People have gone to war to possess the magical comb and bracelet.”

Amy grunted.

“Those men stole the relics to take over Mu and conquer the magical world. They will not hesitate to kill you for them.”

Amy bit her upper lip, repressing a nervous giggle. “Not ruby-red slippers? Will lightning flash from the jewelry when you try to remove it from my hair and wrist? Do I repeat ‘there’s no place like home’ three times?”

Blaze glowered. “I don’t find your sarcasm amusing.”

She removed the jeweled comb and handed it to Blaze. “Here. Take it.”

Bev glared at Blaze and tapped Amy’s hand. “Blaze can get you back to where you belong and to your party whenever you’re ready.”

“Good.” Amy put her wrist toward Blaze. “I’m more than ready.”

Blaze reached to take the bracelet off her wrist. “It won’t come off.”

Bev put her hand to her chest. “What?”

Amy’s voice shook in panic. “No, no, take it off!”

“It won’t come off.”

“Fine, then I’ll do it.”

She fiddled with the clasp and finally threw up her hands in frustration. “It won’t come off!”

Bev walked over to the cabinet and brought back a bottle of Irish whiskey and three glasses, and said, “It has begun.”

 

Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Wall Street Journal bestselling, award-winning author, Pamela Ackerson is a time traveling adventurer. She was born and raised in Newport, RI where history is a way of life. She lives on the Space Coast of Florida where everyone is encouraged to reach for the stars!

Her literary journey is as diverse and adventurous as the time-traveling escapades she writes about. With a rich tapestry of genres at her fingertips, she weaves stories that span from the wild frontiers of the Old West to the intricate cultural tapestries of Native American history. Her work doesn't stop at fiction; she delves into the realms of history, self-help, and even marketing, showcasing a versatility that resonates with a wide audience.

Ackerson's presence on the Space Coast of Florida reflects her forward-thinking approach to writing, always aiming for the next big leap in her storytelling odyssey. Her prolific output is a testament to her dedication to her craft, inviting readers to join her in exploring the vast landscapes of human experience and imagination.

Honest reviews of Pamela's books are always appreciated.

Absolutely no AI programs were used to create any story she has written.

Thank you and have a good moments day.

 

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Enter the Dragons of Mu Giveaway Here

Kent Priore In The Wake of Gods Book Tour and Giveaway

 

Seth thought God was dead...

but ideas tend to linger. 

In the Wake of Gods

The Abyss Borne Gods Book 2

by Kent Priore

Genre: Epic Dark Fantasy

“Kent Priore writes like a natural about the supernatural. American fiction has found a terrific new voice.”
—Joseph O’Neill, PEN/Faulkner Award-Winning Author of Netherland

Standing amidst the destruction of Magistrum, great sorrow and guilt weighs upon Seth as he keeps the memory of his mistake close—to continue his growth, to remain good. A concern which lingers through the birth of his daughter, Persephone, labeled a True Born God by the personification of the White Abyss. And due to the sudden death of her uncle, Persephone’s abyssal powers emerge in a destructive way, tearing a hole through the fabric of the world. Thus, solidifying Seth’s worries of managing his own struggles while being father to a god who resembles his past far too much.

Feeling Persephone’s powerful aura pulsate through dimensions, both antagonistic forces begin pursuing her, wanting to eliminate a threat, and make her power theirs. Alongside these heavy stressors, Seth must also deal with the inevitability of Sasha dying the same mysterious way as the other Guild members.

The Earth devolves into a wasteland as the gods ravish the globe, devouring every human they can find. All the while Seth, Sasha, their daughter, and others lay in hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike back, to resist the will of the Abyssian gods—but can they without sacrificing everything they worked so hard to achieve? And will Seth, so burdened by his past actions, endure this, or will he devolve into the monster he once was…the monster he fears his daughter will also become?

Fans of "Jerusalem" by Alan Moore, “The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath, or “The Master and Margarita” by Mikhail Bulgakovor will enjoy “The Monsters Among Us.”

 

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The pitch-black night splits apart as two dark clouds go their separate ways. A large full moon looms overhead, filtering its borrowed light through the open window of Persephone’s bedroom.

The young girl tosses and turns, with soft animalistic grunts emerging from her. Gritting her teeth, twitching, flitting about, she whimpers as a large weight festers like cancer within her. A multitude of pressures, cramping with tightness in her tiny chest. Aching for release. A god, trapped in the frame of a small girl.

Tremors ripple through her body, intensifying further and further, and—she screeches.

Persephone sits erect, her eyes closed, mouth agape. Breathing in deeply, her head arches back, her eyes peel open, and rays of white light shine out from her skull, as she begins sucking in a tremendous amount of air in one, unending gulp. The bright yellow moon distorts and wobbles and sways like water, and at one edge begins to spill into a bright golden river. Stretching further and further, like toothpaste through its tube. The stream descends toward the Earth, creating a glittering strand of moon dust, stretching across thousands and thousands of miles until reaching Persephone’s window, and spilling into her mouth—

“Persephone?” Seth bursts in. “What’s wro—”

Sasha follows in from behind, stricken in awe alongside him. “Persephone? Persephone!” she shouts, running over and throwing her arms around the girl.

Seth hurries over to the window, watching the stream of moon dust spill into his daughter’s mouth. Reaching toward the stretched-out moon, specks of dust displace from the stream, glittering its golden sheen around his fingertips. Looking out and up through the window, he finds the once full moon half dissolved, crumbled away like sand.

“What is happening?” Andes says, appearing in the doorway. Mikhail stands at his side, nuzzling his sleepy eyes with the back of his hands before waking to the commotion before him.

“She’s not responding!” Sasha says.

Seth rushes over. “That light…no, it’s happening again.” Sasha yanks her gaze toward Seth, alarmed. “It happened earlier today, while reading…this white glow—and this pressure. It’s the Abyss. No doubt.”

“My apologies,” Andes says, “But we have larger concerns at the moment. If she consumes the moon, its absence will devastate the Earth!”

Seth breathes in heavily. A doomsday event in the middle of the night. She’s my daughter, that’s for sure. “Clear the room!” he shouts, his eyes illuminated with white abyssal flame. “I’m going to try something.”

Sasha rises, inching away slowly. Her gaze locked too fiercely onto Persephone. Seth places a hand on her shoulder, gesturing with his head for her to step aside. A hollow sensation takes root in Sasha as she ambles over to Andes.

Seth hovers his right palm over Persephone’s face, curling his fingers in a circular motion. Hand shaking, the pull of the moon dust river is too severe, continuing its descent into the depths of Persephone—setting his entire body ablaze with white flame, Sasha and Andes feel a gravitation shift pulling toward Seth. Mikhail clings to Andes’s sleeve, fearing his feet would be swept up in the sudden, unnatural wind current rushing through their enclosed home. And though the fire is bright, it does not burn. It does not scorch nor warm.

The moon dust begins to retract. Rising from Persephone’s throat, she gargles and gags.

Seth’s eyes glow brighter, and a portal opens at the far end of the room, creating yet another gravitational pull. Beyond the portal lay a vast darkness, sprinkled with glimmering stars. Sasha, Andes, and Mikhail huddle together, clinging fiercely to the doorframe while Seth and Persephone’s abyssal weight holds them steady. The last of the moon dust ejects from her stomach, and the white glow of her eyes disappears. Waking up, she’s suddenly lifted into the air by the vacuum of space—she thuds against Seth’s big right arm, brought close to his side. With the flick of his left hand, the moon dust flings into the darkness, followed by a pillar of abyssal flame erupting from his palm. Gravity reverts to normal as the portal closes.

Rushing to the window, they find the wobbling moon slowly steadying itself. Aglow with abyssal flame, searing the fabric of the world back together, it reforms into the same bright full moon as before.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Andes says. Sasha stares in awe of Seth, but with an ever-deepening scowl sinking into her face.

“I had a hunch. The words she pulled from the book pages floated back into form once she snapped out of it. The abyssal flame was an added precaution.” Seth collapses onto Persephone’s bed. The young girl cocks her head in confusion at her father’s exhaustion.

Andes, noticing the looks on both parents, steps toward Persephone. “You two get some rest. I’ll tuck the youngsters back into bed.”

“You sure?” asks Sasha.

“Never more sure in my life! Now, go.”

Glancing tiredly at each other, Seth and Sasha hurry back to their room.

Andes pulls a chair up to the bed and takes the book he gave her years ago from the nearby nightstand. Mikhail hops into bed beside Persephone, both children content beneath the covers as Andes begins to read a story.

Persephone smiles widely toward her uncle. With no memory of what had just occurred, she relishes what’s to come. A story told by her loving uncle, her most favorite of things.

The Monsters Among Us

The Abyss Borne Gods Book 1

“Kent Priore writes like a natural about the supernatural, and The Monsters Among Us is a marvelously dark and true novel. American fiction has found a terrific new voice.”
—Joseph O’Neill, PEN/Faulkner Award-Winning Author of Netherland

Seth’s life until now has been a product of a diabolical, evil Truman Show, his entire upbringing a façade orchestrated for malevolent purposes. After his beloved dies, he undergoes a demonic metamorphosis, which causes the world’s fictitious walls to crumble.

As he tries to piece a semblance of his life back together and move on, he meets friends who inspire, but even more harsh truths are revealed, perhaps too difficult to cope with.

The very existence of life and reality is exposed as a machination of grotesque gods. And to defeat them, Seth will have to fill his emptiness, for which there’s only two options…
Bring the world to ruin, or learn to transmute his pain into strength.

Fans of "Jerusalem" by Alan Moore, “The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath, or “The Master and Margarita” by Mikhail Bulgakovor will enjoy “The Monsters Among Us.”

“I was intrigued from the first sentence, determined to spend the night speed-reading so I didn't have to remain in suspense any longer.”
-Ella Dupuie, author of Fractures of the Fallen

“Supernatural storytelling at its best, this vivid cinematic novel takes the reader on an imaginative journey through what could be considered end of days. The Monster’s Among Us is a masterful creation and a must read—even for those who aren’t fans of fantasy/horror.”
—Joni Marie Iraci MFA author of Vatican Daughter

 

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  “You've been gifted with versatile magic. Fire can destroy, but it can also create. You are a forge that bellows with hellfire. Make use of it. I have found that magic is best used in creative and unprecedented ways. Even the dullest magic knows few limits. Magic does what the mind wills it to do.”

  I start to run after Gluttony. I keep the image of those poor kids in my mind. The rage in me intensifies. My new demon body in combination with my anger makes me fast, but not fast enough. I can still see Gluttony in the distance, but he’s leaving my field of view more with each passing second.

  My mind is coated red with the image of the flattened children. Like a shark who had just picked up the scent of blood, my adrenalin surges, and I can feel a manic fit overtaking me. My perception is flooded in a crazed haze. I feel limitless, as if I can do anything. This is a feeling I know well. I felt it when I decided to return home to Crowley and burn it all to the ground.

  Where's that voice, huh? Not going to tell me to stop this time?

  {No.}

  Why not?

  There’s no answer.

  Whatever.

  With nothing to hold me back, I really am limitless. Instinct takes over. I conjure my flames, but not with the intent to attack. I stretch my arms behind me and point my hands straight back. Fire erupts from my palms, propelling me forward. I take flight at a much greater speed than my legs can reach. I hurtle through the air, struggling to maintain balance. Like a cannonball I blast my way through trees and homes alike. Planks of wood and support beams scatter about in chaos.

  I wonder about the people living in these homes. Are they safe? Have I killed them? I don’t care. I feel useful to Melphis for the first time, and my bloodlust is reaching glorious heights as Gluttony's body grows larger in my view. We are passing the border into New Mexico at intense speeds. Before I know it, we have passed into Colorado, the foot of the Rocky Mountains in sight. He appears to slow down. What is he looking for here?

  He comes to an abrupt stop, pulling up the ground beneath his tentacles as he does so. I keep my speed and make my descent. I plummet hard upon his back. His tentacles give out, causing his large body to fall to the ground. A thundering crash shakes the surrounding space.

  “Who's there?” Gluttony roars. “Wait, no—Greed? You smell like my brother!”

  For a dumb brute, he’s quick to piece things together. He rises, supporting himself with six of his eight tentacles. The other two pursue me. One slithers behind and wraps itself around me. The sludge-like tentacles are as strong as they are giant. I struggle but remain motionless. The heat rises again. I feel empty, but from that emptiness arises my rage which festers and grows ever more passionate. Flames overtake my body. I can feel the slime of his tentacles melting away, like sweat dripping off me.

    "Fuck you!" I roar. The blood-stained clothes of those helpless children rush back to me, then so do the memories of my own ruined childhood. The flames increase and grow hotter until the whole tentacle catches fire. It burns away at a fierce speed. Ashes flutter away as black sludge spills out from the now open hole in his hard shell. Gluttony roars and his tentacles squirm like a spider that has just been stepped on.

    I climb on top of his hard shell and beat down my fists with reckless abandon. It withstands my punches, at first. I can feel my strength rising alongside my rage until at last, cracks form. The fractures stretch wider with each punch. Gluttony moans as they grow deeper. Melphis called him a transporter. Just what is he protecting with this dense outer layer?

    My focus intensifies and locks onto the growing fissure in his shell. My mind goes blank. All that exists is this shell, the sensation of my knuckles bashing into it, and the white flashes of rough skin being blown away in shrouds of dust. He is mine—he'll pay—I'll make him pay—for those kids—for me—

    The back of my head is hit by a dense, wet object and I am knocked off the beast. My body shatters the trunks of a few trees as I make my descent.

    {Your lack of focus has made you blind to the monster's many tentacles.}

    "Shut u—" I choke.

    Gluttony's enormous face is now mere feet away from mine. My elation fades as I watch the skyscraper-devouring mouth open at its four hinges. A long snake-like tongue emerges out of utter darkness. It coils itself around my body before his teeth drop down, devouring me along with much of the landscape. I feel my body now coated in slime, as it slides down Gluttony’s throat. The darkness of the pit consumes me.

Graduated from Bard College with a BA in the Written Arts, Kent Priore is an author of dark literature, genre-blending epics and vignettes, where dark romanticism meets modern psychology for a macabre but hopeful depiction of inner struggle and the human ability to endure, and perhaps even prevail. He has a fascination with humanity and is one of the few to believe that despite our many weaknesses, we are far stronger than we often think. He wishes to show that strength to those darker individuals, burdened by lonesomeness, poor mental health, and other forces perceived to be out of their control, as well as show them that all is not lost.

 

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Rebecca Christo Our Toxic Traits Book Tour and Giveaway

 

Some secrets are better left buried.

Others are waiting to pull you under.

Our Toxic Traits

by Rebecca Christo

Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense Thriller

Some secrets are better left buried. Others are waiting to pull you under.

Jill Davis is just trying to survive the hustle of New York City. As a private dog walker for the elite residents of an Upper East Side high-rise, she’s used to navigating the eccentricities of her wealthy clients. From the icy and demanding Briar Whitney, to the mysterious and unnervingly attractive Christopher Bennett. Jill prides herself on blending into the background; but in a city where everyone is watching, staying invisible is becoming a dangerous game.

While a serial killer that the media has dubbed the “Socialite Strangler” stalks the shadows of Central Park, Jill’s carefully curated life begins to unravel. A series of unexplained “glitches” in her daily routine, and a questioning detective suggest that the danger isn’t just in the park, but in the building where she works.

When a high-stakes Halloween party turns a theatrical hoax into a gruesome reality, Jill is thrust into the centre of a nightmare. Caught in a web of obsession and lethal deception, she must decide who to trust.

In a world where everyone is connected, there is nowhere left to hide. Can Jill break free before her own toxic traits and those around her, become her undoing?

 

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Avid dog lover and Author Rebecca Christo was born in Toronto, Ontario, where she developed an early love of both reading and writing. Of particular interest to her was creating a story with emotionally mature content that was still entertaining enough to be read for fun on a relaxing vacation. She hopes she’s succeeded with her very first published novel: Mirrored Wounds.

When she’s not travelling with her husband, Darcy Christo, Rebecca enjoys spending time with him, her children Ali, Brittany and Maxwell, and her puppies (Lucy and Winston) in Wasaga Beach, Ontario where she currently lives.

  

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Marla A. White Recipe for Murder Release Tour and Giveaway

 

Welcome to Pine Cove.

The Mayor is a dog, B&B guests are fugitives, and the pancakes are burnt. 

Recipe For Murder

A Pine Cove Mystery Book 2

by Marla A. White

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Mel O'Rourke traded her LAPD badge for the quiet life, running a bed-and-breakfast in tiny, quirky Pine Cove.

But when Jackson Thibodeaux, the charming café owner who broke her heart, stumbles back into town, her tranquil second act is toast. While attending a culinary academy in New Orleans, Jackson found the body of a classmate. The police rule it a suicide, but Mel’s instincts—and Jackson’s near miss with a bullet—scream murder.
Between a cooking school full of shady suspects, a reformed cat burglar for a sidekick, and a complicated love triangle involving the deputy sheriff, Mel has her hands full.

Perfect for fans of the sweetness of Jenn McKinlay and the snark of Elle Cosimano’s Finlay Donovan.

 

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“Dang, woman. You want to take my certification test for me?” She noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that, although he’d done a decent job, she’d bested him. Again.

“You’ll do fine,” she teased as she ejected the clip, put the gun down, and began to reload. Even with the EZ loader she’d gotten as a birthday gift from her parents a few years ago, she struggled to get the bullets in. Her father, an ex-cop himself, thought her lack of dexterity was hilarious.

“Here, let me help you.” Gregg closed the distance between them, standing so close she felt the heat of his body. The tang of cordite, pine trees, and the summer blooms scattered around the outdoor firing range tickled her nose, conspiring to make the moment sort of romantic as his rough, calloused hands met hers. The thought sent a zing of electricity through her that she couldn’t quite explain. Before this got any weirder, she stepped away.

“Gah, I could hear the ‘little lady’ part of that statement even without you saying it. I’ve got this, thanks anyway.”

Rather than be offended, he laughed. They continued practicing their firearm skills for another twenty minutes until Gregg complained the sound of Mel’s stomach rumbling was loud enough to be heard even through his protective ear gear. “It’s throwing off my aim. Are you ready to call it a day?” She felt the heat rise to her cheeks in embarrassment. “Pizza?”

“You haven’t by chance changed your stance on the sushi spaghetti combo restaurant, have you?”

He laughed. “No way. You’re welcome to a sausage caterpillar roll. It’s a hard pass for me. Besides, the pizza joint carries Redrum beer.”

As they headed to his car, she teased him. “You can’t fool me, you’re a secret wine lover. And you “know the name for a type of sushi? I’m impressed.”

She slammed into him when he suddenly stopped walking. He turned and glanced down at her, standing a good six inches taller. There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he put one hand out to steady her, the other to her lips. “Shh, I have a reputation to protect.”

For a moment, it looked like he was going to move in to kiss her. For a moment, Mel wanted him to. But whatever spark had been in his eyes wavered to uncertainty, and he ushered her to his car without another word.

****

“You’d better hope your boss never finds out you know all the words to that musical or he’ll insist on drug testing you.” Mel laughed as Gregg opened the lobby door for her, still murmuring away in a surprisingly pleasant singing voice. She didn’t normally wait for any man to open a door, but her hands were full, holding the box of pizza they’d gotten to bring back for the vultures she knew would be waiting for her at the inn. He held the door with one hand, a bottle of wine they planned on sharing while binging episodes of a British cop series they loved gripped in the other.

As she expected, Gemma, Grandma, and Poppy materialized from the great room at a speed that suggested they’d been sitting near the window watching for their return. Their grim expressions, however, made her stop short. “All right, out with it. Why are you three acting so weird? We’re twenty feet inside the door, and there hasn’t been one smart ass remark yet. Who died?” When no one answered, a cold dread bloomed in the pit of her stomach. She might have dropped the pizza if Poppy hadn’t snatched it out of her numb hands. “Seriously, is everyone okay? Did something happen? Is it Liam?”

“No, Mel, it’s me,” a voice said with a distinctly more pronounced Southern drawl than he’d had the last time they spoke. An exhausted, pale, but determined Jackson emerged from the shadows, rubbing at his temple as if to ease an ache. “I really need your help.”

Relief, anger, hope, and about a dozen other emotions Mel couldn’t identify came crashing down all at once. “I’m going to need you to open that wine,” she told Gregg.

He twisted the top off with his bare hand since their favorite brand of chardonnay didn’t use a “cork. “Done,” he said as he handed her the chilled bottle, the outside damp with sweat.

She took a healthy gulp straight out of the bottle before addressing Jackson. “All right, out with it. What do you want, and it better be good after the bullshit you pulled on me.”

“There’s been a murder.”

Framed For Murder

A Pine Cove Mystery Book 1

After a life-changing injury, Mel O’Rourke trades in her badge for bed sheets, running a B & B in the quirky mountain town of Pine Cove. Her peaceful life is interrupted when an old frenemy, the notorious and charismatic cat burglar, Poppy Phillips, shows up on her doorstep, claiming she’s been framed for murder. While she’s broken plenty of laws, Mel knows she’d never kill anyone. Good thing she’s a better detective than she is a cook as she sets out to prove Poppy's innocence.

The situation gets complicated, however, when the ruggedly handsome Deputy Sheriff Gregg Marks flirts with Mel, bringing him dangerously close to the criminal she’s hiding. And just when her friendship with café owner Jackson Thibodeaux blossoms into something more, he’s offered the opportunity of a lifetime in New Orleans. Should she encourage him to go, or ask him to stay? Who knew romance could be just as hard to solve as murder?

 

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Mel gaped slack-jawed at her brother, whose palm covered his face. “Why did you kidnap Grandma?”

“I did not—ugh!” He answered from behind his hand before shaking off his frustration and moving to the back seat of the truck to grab their bags. “Mom forced me to bring her. That’s what the delay was all about. She’s been driving her crazy, and then this morning she lit the kitchen on fire.”

“She what?!”

“I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly, something about the toaster and a curtain. Anyway, Mom convinced her she should come help you out and halfway up the mountain she wove this kidnapping story.”

“Help me? How, by greeting guests with her charming personality?” She loved her grandmother, but her salutation and scathing condemnation of the inn with just one glance were pretty mild for the old woman. When she really got on a tear, the best thing was to go to a movie until she wore herself out.

“Beats me but pro tip, do not let her in the kitchen.” Balancing the bags in one hand, Liam enveloped her with his free arm. “At least, not until we make sure the insurance covers curtain fires.”

“No need to worry, I just hired someone today who is great in the kitchen.”

He looked at her askance. “Great as in better than you or someone who is actually a good cook?”

“Shut up.” She laughed in response to the insult. “The guests this morning raved about the food. For however long she stays, I think she’ll be a plus in the breakfast department, anyway.”

“Where did you find this culinary genius? Did you put out an ad already?” He held the door open for Mel and they entered the lobby.

“We didn’t, she found me.” She looked around. “Where’s Grandma?”

The echoes of laughter led the siblings into the Great Room where their grandmother sat in front of the fireplace chatting away with Poppy. They turned toward Mel and Liam as they entered.

“Mel, your mother is a hoot,” she gushed.

She narrowed her eyes at the alleged ex-thief, who had to know perfectly well the woman in front of her was too old to be her mother. Grandma O, however, took the compliment to heart and patted Poppy’s hand, gracing her with one of her rare beaming smiles.

To Mel’s surprise, Liam skidded to a dead halt. She turned back to see why and received the icy blast of the unmistakable storm in his eyes. She’d seen the same dark expression in the mirror when she was furious. What did he have to be so angry about? Before she could ask, he dropped their bags and launched into full hissy fit mode.

“You!” he bellowed at Poppy.

The brunette seemed sincerely surprised at his response. Swiveling her head to see who else was in the room and finding no one, she met his gaze and pointed to herself with an exaggerated, “Who, me?” expression.

Her brother spun, targeting his rage at her. “Don’t tell me this is who you hired?”

“You’re only being a grump because you haven’t tried her bacon,” she joked, hoping to deflate the situation. Years of trying to nail her for any number of jobs she’d pulled off had frustrated Mel, but she had to admit she always liked her style. Despite her suspicions when she found Poppy in the lobby this morning, so far she’d been nothing but charming and kind of fun, so what had she done to piss off easy-going Liam in the two minutes since they met?

Her brother crossed his arms, stubbornly jutting out his square jaw. “There’s no way that woman is working here. She nearly killed you once, I’m not giving her a second chance.”

“You two have met?” The information surprised her, so she let the macho b.s. slide for now. She didn’t need anyone to protect her, but his anger rolled off him so calling him on his chauvinism skittered close to throwing gasoline on a fire.

“We had to watch her on the news sound bites, taking her bows for saving your life, while you lay in that hospital bed, broken and in agony.” Mel had never seen his eyes blaze with such fury before. She’d been so focused on her own suffering she’d never thought about what her family had gone through. Liam clearly had been carrying steamer-trunk sized baggage. “Nobody bothered to mention she’s the one who put you in danger in the first place. Or that you’re crippled for life, thanks to her.”

“Crippled?” Poppy’s brows furrowed, her eyes darkening.

“Easy, drama queen,” Mel snarled, “nobody’s crippled.”

“We used to go rock climbing and now you can’t even mount a set of stairs without getting dizzy.” His exasperation exploded as he paced to the far end of the Great Room to stare out the floor-to-ceiling glass door at the patio and brook beyond. What really hurt was he sounded more bummed out for himself losing a climbing partner than concerned about her.

“Is that true?” Poppy sprang up.

“I’m working on it.” Embarrassed by the whole conversation, she busied herself with tidying the morning newspapers the guests had left strewn around the sitting area.

“She nearly killed you, she’s not working here,” Liam repeated without turning away from the view outside.

Grandma O’Rourke rose to her feet with more nobility than agility, stood between her two grandchildren, and pronounced, “I like her, and I say she stays,” before tottering off to the kitchen in a self-professed search for the infamous bacon.

Of course, she liked Poppy, she just paid her a huge compliment. Never mind if she was guilty of what Liam accused her of doing or not. After putting the last section of the newspaper back in place, Mel noticed the below the fold story on the front page and tightened her fist until she almost tore the paper in two.

Scientist Killed in Daring Heist

Marla White is an award-winning novelist who prefers killing people who annoy her on paper rather than in real life. Her first full-length mystery novel, “Cause for Elimination,” placed in several contests including Killer Nashville, The RONE Awards, The Reader’s Favorite, and finishing second in the Orange County Romance Writers for Romantic Suspense. Originally from Oklahoma, she lived in a lot of other states before settling down in Los Angeles to work in the television industry.  She currently teaches at UCLA Extension and gives seminars about the art of script coverage. When she’s not working on the next book, she’s out in the garden, hiking, cheering on the LA Kings, or discovering new craft cocktails.  

 

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