The Ballad of the Great Value Boys by Ken Harris Blog Tour Book Review

THE BALLAD OF THE GREAT VALUE BOYS

by Ken Harris

February 10 - March 7, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

FROM THE CASE FILES OF STEVE ROCKFISH

 

Private Investigators Steve Rockfish and Jawnie McGee's loyalty is tested when they are called upon to rescue a friend whose plan to grift a local Militia goes awry. The ruse rebrands expiring MREs as Q-Rations, focuses on fear, and targets those with an anti-government mindset.

Rockfish and McGee arrive in the dilapidated steel town of Grindsville and are quick to realize the Penn Forest Patriots are more than weekend LARPers. The partner's investigation uncovers a devious plot to light the fuse on a series of domestic terrorism events and throw the country into chaos.

The lack of a timely response by Federal Law Enforcement swiftly constitutes an emergency on Rockfish and McGee’s part. The plot forces them to empty their analytical and investigative skill sets across two states in an attempt to mitigate the threat. Can they prevent the terror cell from igniting the next insurrection and running out the clock on America’s democracy?

Praise for The Ballad of the Great Value Boys:

"Steve Rockfish is back and kicking militia ass. In fact, the whole crew is back, busting balls as they solve crimes and track down the bad guys. The wisecracks fly fast and furious. So do the twists and turns. The bad guys are badder, the danger more dangerous, and every character as endearing as they are dysfunctional. I couldn't turn the pages fast enough."
~ Haris Orkin, award-winning author of The James Flynn Escapades

"Prepare for twists, turns, and more than a few laugh-out loud moments in this rollercoaster of a thriller that pits wise-cracking private investigator Steve Rockfish and his band of unlikely cohorts against a right-wing extremist militia group with a dangerous agenda."
~ Patti Liszkay, author of The Equal and Opposite Reactions Trilogy

"Great gobs of serious yet hilarious crime-solving by Steve and Jawnie, along with their cast of friends ranging from dependable to what-the-hell-now crazy. Absolutely a fun ride! But I warn you, you'll want to read the entire series tonight."
~ Val Conrad, author of The Julie Madigan Thriller Series

My Review:

 This is one of the ongoing adventures of Rockfish, a hard drinking, hard swearing, hard hitting, hard boiled PI who is also a bit sarcastic. In this crazy adventure, Rockfish and his motley sidekicks come across a right wing militia out to cause mayhem. Let the adventure begin.

Harris writes expressive characters who have snappy dialogues. I have to admit I do not understand everything Rockfish says, the banter, sarcasm and innuendos. They often include references to movie characters or events I don't know. And I am not sure I always follow the action. But I do know one of his books will always provide rousing entertainment in the form of a crazy adventure. This one did not disappoint.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my reviews of the earlier adventures in the Rockfish Case Files: The Pine Barrens Stratagem, See You Next Tuesday, and A Bad Bout of the Yips.

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Fiction
Published by: Black Rose Writing
Publication Date: February 6, 2025
Number of Pages: 350
ISBN: 9781685135539 (ISBN10: 1685135536)
Series: From the Case Files of Steve Rockfish series, Book 4
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Black Rose Writing

Read an excerpt:

You've reached Rockfish & McGee, Investigative Specialists. At the tone, leave your name and message. Someone will get back to you at our earliest convenience. [Beep]

"Steve, why don't you ever answer your cell? I'm in deep shit here and you are my one call. Grindsville. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, heading west. The locals have me locked up on a trumped-up charge. You gotta believe me, Steve. I didn't do a damn thing..."

The partners stood around Lynn's desk and listened to the voicemail, left the previous evening. Their administrative assistant had heard Raffi's plea for help first, and immediately reached out to Rockfish and Jawnie to advise of a friend of the office's predicament.

"I'm guessing you didn't pick up his call yesterday?" Jawnie said, with a perturbed look on her face.

"Would you want to talk to Raffi every time he calls?" Rockfish said, raising his own eyebrows. "Plus, I didn't know it was him. The notification came up, Unknown Caller, and I forwarded it to the office line. I assumed it was spam, figured we'd listen and handle it on Monday. And well, here we are. Plus, I didn't want to mute the television. It was that new Marvel movie, Hawkgirl Takes Topeka."

"DC Universe, but I totally get where you're coming from," Jawnie said with a grin. "Too bad it wasn't a scammer halfway around the world calling regarding our Medicare benefits."

"If I was his only call, then he's expecting me to come up there and bail him out. Where the hell is Grindsville, anyway?"

"Central Pennsylvania, Boss," Lynn said. She glanced up from her computer at Jawnie and Rockfish, standing on the other side. "Two hours east of Pittsburgh. What do you think he did?"

"You heard as much of that rambling message as I did. Lord knows what type of scheme he had in mind and was trying to run on the rural bumpkins," Rockfish said. He stepped back into the office's bullpen area before slumping into his favorite recliner. This is the last damn thing I need today. The Andrist case keeps raising its ugly head and I don't have the time to handle two problem children at once. Where is my morning coffee?

"Steve, you know as well as I do Raffi's voicemail changes with each money-making opportunity," Jawnie said. He hadn't noticed she followed him and had taken up her normal seat on the couch, laptop open and at the ready. "Might as well dial and listen. It might give you a leg up on what you're facing in Grindsville. Assuming you're going and someone powered down his phone. It's probably in an evidence storage locker. The call should go straight to voicemail. If you're considering following up on this."

"You know as well as I do, I can't leave him hanging," Rockfish said. "Google says it's anywhere between three and four hours to get there as the Lana flies. If I can get out of here before noon, I might have him sprung before dinner." He shifted his body in the chair and turned toward Lynn's desk. "Lynn, let's hear it."

"Speed dial four on speaker. Gimme a sec."

Rockfish and Jawnie got up and stood around Lynn's desk. They both leaned across and listened as the number rang once and rolled over to voicemail.

"Hello, you've reached the desk of Raphael Pérez, President of Patriot Meals on American Made Wheels. Please visit our website, www.Q-Rations.biz for orders and to view our FAQ. Please leave a message and a true patriot will get back to you shortly. God Bless."

"He's catering to the insurrectionists, isn't he?" Jawnie said. The concern in her face was clear, and Rockfish wasn't sure how to answer. He chose his words carefully. Raffi was a friend.

What am I going to tell her she already doesn't know? The guy will do practically anything to make a buck, no matter the gray area involved. Social, political or moral issue be damned. That's Raffi.

"Jawnie, we've all got parts of us that aren't the most desirable. Hell, look at me. Who the fuck in their right mind would want to be associated with me?"

"Are you implying I'm not in my right mind?"

"Yeah, me too," Lynn said. "Shots fired, Steve."

Rockfish walked back to his chair and stood behind it, elbows resting on the back. "That's damn well not what I meant, and you both know it."

Both women cracked smiles, and Rockfish relaxed for a minute before continuing.

"We all know he straddles that line, but I've known him longer than either of you two. The man's in it for the money. Nothing more, nothing less. Let me go figure out what kind of mess he's gotten himself into and we can revisit adjusting his moral compass when I get back."

Rockfish poured himself a cup of coffee. I'll need more than this tonight after I sweet-talk his ass out of jail. Might as well stop at the liquor store before making the drive. Hotel bar drinks are on the expensive side. Shop for a happy ending and will it into existence.

"I'm headed back to my office. Try to figure out my next couple of moves and exactly what he was doing up in the middle of nowhere." He turned and walked down the short hallway to his private office.

Once out of the sight of prying eyes, Rockfish finished constructing his homemade Irish coffee and turned on his monitor. I need to figure this mess out. The sooner the better. Patriot Meals on American Wheels and something about rations. Since the Porbeagle case, Raffi usually focused his semi-legitimate business opportunities on the bumpkins he felt he could run circles around intelligence-wise. Especially should any part of his half-assed plans go sideways. Only makes sense he zeroed on those who continue to celebrate January 6th. Best to start researching with his website and gather what I can.

Rockfish picked up his desk phone and dialed Raffi's cell again. He jotted down the URL on a pink Post-it and stuck it to the bottom of his monitor. I need to talk to Lynn. We need good old-fashioned yellow ones. At least for me.

His fingers tapped out the web address and Rockfish paused as his pinky hovered over the return key. Do I really want to know? Can't I drive up there with a credit card and pay the fine or whatever percentage of his bail the bondsman requires? You should know this already. The less you know about the man's shenanigans, the better. No chance of being sucked into the Raffi vortex.

Curiosity won out and the Q-Rations.biz website filled the screen.

In the years since Jawnie had arrived on scene, Rockfish now had more experience with the Information Super Highway. While he wasn't on her level, even he had to question the design of Raffi's cracker-jack website. Looks like a site a middle school kid made in 1998. I can almost hear the dial-up modem noise.

The top of the page read Q-Rations against a black background, the letters alternating between red, white, and blue. The image flickered every couple of seconds. How many patriots had visited the site with full intentions to buy this shit but suffered a seizure before navigating to their shopping cart? Under the image was the slogan from the voicemail, Patriot Meals on American Made Wheels. What really caught Rockfish's attention was the picture directly to the right of the bit of jingoism. Raffi stood at attention, dressed in what Rockfish thought was George C. Scott's uniform from the opening scene in Patton. His right hand cocked and saluting.

The set of balls on this guy, but give him credit, he knows his audience. Pander to them until they open their wallets and then turn the grift up a few more notches.

The rest of the site's front page laid out a story full of fear mongering and catered to the benefits of hoarding Q-Rations. Each meal would be priceless once Hillary Clinton, the newly appointed Biden Gun-Czar, came a knocking on your door. Think the supply chain is fucked six ways to Sunday now? Wait until George Soros declares martial law. Repackaged MREs? How did he come up with this idea? Rockfish imagined the interest and rising demand. He wondered where Raffi would or had gotten his supply from. He ain't cooking and packaging this shit in the basement of his townhome.

The rest of the page detailed the different options of Q-Rations available for purchase, but Rockfish had seen and read enough. He moved his mouse over to the top of the browser and printed the page, before hollering down the hallway to where Lynn and Jawnie continued to talk.

"Lynn, can you use that webcrawly thing and download me a copy of Raffi's entire website?" Rockfish said. "Chuck it on a USB along with the prison voicemail, and I'll take it with me. I'm not sure what kind of internet I'll have out in the mountains of West Central Pennsylvania."

"Gotcha, Boss. I'm on it," Lynn said.

"You're a lifesaver." Rockfish smiled to himself and heard a light knock. He glanced up to see Jawnie standing in the open doorway.

"You're going this alone? There's something to be said about going lone wolf in that area of the country, if you know what I mean. Plus, I don't have the time to find a good-looking shot for when the milk container people call for your missing person picture."

"I get it, but he's my friend, and occasional support to this office," Rockfish said with a shrug. "Listen, I'll run up there, grab a hotel, pay his fine and come back with him riding shotgun in the morning. Worst case, it's bail money instead of a fine, but at least he'll be back on the street and owe me one."

Jawnie shifted her weight from one leg to the other and leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. Rockfish understood his reasoning, hadn't fully sold his partner on the trip. In fact, Rockfish had lost count of exactly how many favors Raffi currently owed him.

"I can see you still don't think it's a grand plan. But if you come, who's going to stay here and handle Andrist? I mean, I love he keeps hiring us, but that man is a handful and I can't, in good faith, ask Lynn to deal with him on an almost daily basis." Rockfish saw this line of reasoning was an easier sell by Jawnie's nod and expression.

"He is our best client at the moment," Jawnie said. "Best paying, too."

"Coddle him. Hold his meetings at arm's length. Do whatever you need. I'll be back before noon tomorrow and be on my phone at all times," Rockfish said. He stood up and grabbed his messenger bag and laptop.

"You're leaving right this instant?"

"Yeah, I need to swing by Bass Pro Shops and pick up a few camo shirts, knit hat and a jacket. It'll be pretty cold up there and I'll blend in better. In small towns like this, the natives are restless. Just tryin' to prevent any kind of run-in."

"Better grab one of Mack's old trucker hats and by all means, don't shave," Jawnie said and stepped back out of the doorway.

Rockfish paused and held out his fist and Jawnie bumped it. He picked up the USB from Lynn on his way out the door and auto-started Lana before stepping out into the February cold.

***

Excerpt from The Ballad of the Great Value Boys by Ken Harris. Copyright 2025 by Ken Harris. Reproduced with permission from Ken Harris. All rights reserved.

 

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Author Bio:

Ken Harris retired from the FBI, after thirty-two years, as a cybersecurity executive. With over three decades writing intelligence products for senior Government officials, Ken provides unique perspectives on the conventional fast-paced crime thriller. He is the author of the “From the Case Files of Steve Rockfish” series. He spends days with his wife Nicolita, and two Labradors, Shady and Chalupa Batman. Evenings are spent playing Walkabout Mini Golf and cheering on Philadelphia sports. Ken firmly believes Pink Floyd, Irish whiskey and a Montecristo cigar are the only muses necessary. He is a native of New Jersey and currently resides in Virginia’s Northern Neck.

Catch Up With Ken Harris:
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Amazon Author Profile
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BookBub - @KAHFiction
Instagram - @kenharrisfiction
YouTube - @KenHarrisFiction
BlueSky - @kahfiction.bsky.social
Facebook - @kah623

 

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I received a complimentary egalley of this book through Partners in Crime Book Tours. My comments are an independent and honest review. The rest of the copy of this post was provided by Partners in Crime Book Tours.

(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.) 

One Choice Away From Change by Justin and Trisha Davis Book Review

About the Book:

Through biblical examples and illustrations from their own redemptive story, Justin and Trisha Davis help readers identify unhealthy relational patterns that keep them from experiencing the joy and freedom God has for them.
 
Relationships can feel like a constant struggle. How can we recognize and overcome behaviors that leave us wounded, broken, and exhausted? One Choice Away from Change helps us identify dysfunctional life patterns that cause us to repeat the same mistakes in relationships, fall into the same bad habits at work, or argue about the same things with those we love. Drawing on their own story of healing, Justin and Trisha Davis offer practical encouragement for:
 

• Understanding the choices we make that can sabotage us
• Not letting the past dictate the present
• Leaving behind our go-to sins and dysfunctions
• Moving forward in the hope of who God calls us to be

 
You aren’t as stuck as you think you are. In fact, you are just one decision away from breaking the cycles that keep you living in fear and shame. Experience the power of God’s grace … one choice at a time.

My Review:

Choices are hard. Even the biblical writer Paul struggled with making right choices. But choices become patterns and those patterns can be changed only by making different choices. The authors do a good job of identifying destructive cycles of behavior and the choices one must make that will lead to freedom. Rather than focusing on the behavior (do not get drunk) they concentrate of why we choose the behavior to start with.

I appreciate their teaching about why we make the choices we do. They explore the basic needs we have as well as past influences on present behavior. We may need to review our past and confront events or things said to us at that time. They include particular teaching on five common issues. I really liked their section on shame, how it differs from guilt and how it gets put on us.

The title of the book may be a bit of a misnomer. While the authors do write, “Choosing to surrender is the one choice that will change everything,” (39) they also remind readers there is no “once-and-done choice that lasts a lifetime.” (115) Breaking cycles is a continuous process and we must repeatedly choose. (115) “Change happens one choice at a time.” (222)

This is a good book for Christians who want to change a cycle of behavior and need to know how to start by making choices.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

About the Authors:

Justin and Trisha Davis are pastors, speakers, and the founders of RefineUs Ministries. They coauthored Beyond Ordinary: When a Good Marriage Just Isn’t Good Enough, and Justin’s book Being Real > Being Perfect: How Transparency Leads to Transformation is a USA Today bestseller. Justin and Trisha have five kids and live in Indianapolis.

David C Cook, 240 pages.

I received a complimentary egalley of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.

(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.)

Reckoning With History by William Yoo Book Review

About the Book:

A hard, haunting, and hopeful history that will leave an indelible mark and transform your understanding of both Christianity and the United States.

Reckoning with History confronts the histories of settler colonialism and slavery and illumines how these two devastating realities informed and ultimately deformed Protestant Christianity in the North American colonies and antebellum United States. In this book, William Yoo analyzes primary sources from Indigenous, African, European, and American perspectives to construct a narrative that honors the stories of Indigenous peoples, enslaved and free persons of African descent, Indigenous rights advocates, and abolitionists. The book’s broad scope—which covers individuals and movements representing Baptists, Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Methodists, Presbyterians, and other Christian traditions—provides a timely and telling message for every Christian seeking racial justice today.

This urgently needed book expresses a powerful call for reformation and change within American Christianity that is grounded in precise research and compelling prose. It explains how Christians engaged the sinful realities of Indigenous land dispossession and Black enslavement, shaping American Christianity in distinctive and enduring ways. It further underscores how white Christians justified land theft and racial oppression against Indigenous and Black persons with scriptural interpretations and theological expositions that remade Christianity into an American religion that bolstered economic, political, and social interests. Along the way, Yoo also features inspiring accounts of resistance to the Indian Removal Act of 1830 and the westward expansion of slavery. A final chapter draws lessons from these histories for the possibilities of what ministries of racial justice could be in American churches today. Yoo integrates cogent historical analysis with contemporary lessons for Christians that make Reckoning with History a definitive resource for understanding racism and pursuing racial justice in the United States.

My Review:

If we want to understand ourselves today, we need to know what brought us here. That goes for the church as well as our personal development. Sometimes Christians would like to tell a revisionist history of Christianity in America. Yoo contends we must understand settler colonialism (seizing Indigenous lands and displacing Indigenous people) along with slavery were among the greatest forces shaping American Christianity.

Yoo relates the observations of early travelers in the U.S, looks at sermons preached, pamphlets printed, and other documents from history. He explores the merging of Protestant Christianity and American exceptionalism, the latter becoming a form of religion with its own religious documents, symbols and idols.

Yoo writes, “Reckoning with history is not for the faint of heart.” (3516/4685) It may be shocking to some readers how many theologians and preachers were adamant that slavery was God's will. If one wants to develop a more honest opinion of American Christianity, this is a valuable resource. “We cannot understand our present without Knowing our past,” (3599/4685) This book may be a little more academic in style than the layperson is used to but it worth the read.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can see the table of contents and read the first chapter here.

About the Author:

William Yoo is Associate Professor of American Religious and Cultural History at Columbia Theological Seminary. He has published books on African American Christianity, Asian American Christianity, and Presbyterian history, including What Kind of Christianity: A History of Slavery and Anti-Black Racism in the Presbyterian Church, winner of the 2023 Award of Excellence from the Religion Communicators Council. As a teacher, preacher, and scholar, Yoo focuses on the history of racism in American Christianity. He is a professor and public theologian who interprets the most challenging and urgent issues of racial justice with clarity, depth, honesty, and precision.

Westminster John Knox Press, 260 pages.

I received a complimentary egalley of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.

(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.)

Water Grave by Mitchell S Karnes Blog Tour Book Review

WATER GRAVE

by Mitchell S. Karnes

February 2-28, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

DETECTIVE ABBEY RHODES

 

When a young pastor is found dead at the bottom of his baptistery, detective Abbey Rhodes must search in the one place she swore never to return…the church.

Fledgling Homicide detective Abbey Rhodes investigates the murder of a young East Nashville pastor found dead in the bottom of his own church baptistery. Paired with Sam Tidwell, an apathetic, aging detective just biding his time until retirement, Abbey must convince her partner the obvious suspect is not the real murderer. Then, she must overcome her own deep prejudice against churches and a dark secret that anchors her to a painful past. As Abbey and Sam discover the pastor’s plans to eliminate the church’s corruptive elements and implement a new vision, they realize their list of suspects multiplies and includes church leaders whom the young pastor considered friends. The case of the Water Grave triggers painful memories and pushes Abbey to her breaking point.

My Review:

This is a very interesting mystery. It is almost an adult coming of age novel as Abbey is a flawed character who must face and conquer past trauma. She is assigned to investigate the murder of a pastor when she herself was sexually abused by a pastor as a young teen. She must work out her own feelings or she might destroy her job and future. She struggles with the whole idea of a good God who loves and cares for her.

I am always fascinated when an author writes the main character of the opposite sex. Karnes did a pretty good job of creating a female heroine with feelings of hurt yet the determination to succeed, to make it through. I like how Abbey was able to help others because of her own experiences. Her interaction with Aaron was the only aspect of her character that did not seem right to me.

The murder plot was good. Karnes created a number of possible villains, some of whom had strong feeling because of the changes the new pastor was making. There was a twist at the end that was a bit shocking but actually fit the spiritual intensity of this novel.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

Book Details:

Genre: Christian Crime/Mystery
Published by: WordCrafts Press
Publication Date: January 29, 2025
Number of Pages: 280
ISBN: 978-1962218-69-6
Series: An Abbey Rhodes Mystery, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | WordCrafts Press

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

Monday, October 23, 9:15 am – Living Water Church

Mark Ripley rushed into the baptistery changing room, slammed the door, and locked the handle. He scanned the room for his phone.

A loud thud reverberated through the tiny room as the entire doorframe shook. Mark searched under the towels. Another thud accompanied by the sound of cracking wood. He found the phone and glanced down at his lock screen, a picture of his wife and two children. He held the phone to his face to unlock it. Before he could dial 911, the frame splintered, and the door swung open. Realizing there was nowhere to run, Mark turned and tried to talk through the situation.

The wooden club struck the right side of his head with such violence that Mark spun sideways and toppled into the open clothes rack, dragging several white baptismal robes down with him. His phone flew from his limp hand and bounced off the wall, sliding into the opposite corner of the eight-by-eight changing room. It rested beneath the small bench.

His attacker nudged him with his foot. A few moments passed, and he nudged him again. Mark moaned. He touched his right cheek and temple, the source of his pain, and felt the warmth of his own blood. The man watched as Mark pushed up on all fours. The pastor’s only thoughts were his phone and 911. Before he could move, the man swung the club again, landing a solid blow to Mark’s back. The young pastor collapsed like a pile of soaking wet towels.

 

Chapter Two

Tuesday, October 24, 9:41 am – Living Water Church

Sergeant McNally’s assignment of Detective Tidwell as my mentor frustrated me to no end. A detective who, like water, took the path of least resistance.

He snapped his fingers in front of my face, “Hey Rhodes, which way?”

“Sorry, Detective. It’s just past Riverside at the bottom of the hill.”

“What did I say about formalities? Save that for the brass. Just call me Tidwell or Sam.”

“Yes, Detective.” It came out before I could catch it.

“It’s bad enough you look like a little girl; don’t act like one.”

I hate when they do that! Ironic. When I was twelve, everyone thought I was older and treated me as such. Now at twenty-four, I looked like an overdeveloped twelve-year-old.

Detective Tidwell loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He stroked the salt and pepper beard which gave him a distinguished look and glanced down the road. He had a deep sorrow that added ten years to his appearance. I suppose we were a chronological paradox. “Church murder…that’s bad luck.”

“What do you mean?” Maybe he had a bad experience too.

“Nothing good ever comes from it,” he said.

I caught sight of the steeple and rubbed a sudden chill from my arms. I hated churches and church people.

It was a traditional small church building in the shape of an L with a one-story sanctuary connected to the two-story educational wing at the base of the L, just like so many small churches I’d seen as a kid.

When we pulled into the driveway, Detective Tidwell said, “Remember, just follow my lead. You got something to say, say it; otherwise, just observe.” As soon as he got out of the car, he straightened his tie and buttoned the first button of his suit coat. “If it’s too much, Rhodes, get some air.” He walked through the front doors and let them shut behind him.

I wanted to say, “This wasn’t my first homicide, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be my last,” but nothing came out. I stood there staring at the closed wooden double doors.

As I entered the tiny four-foot-deep foyer of the small church, my partner made the introductions, saying, “Detectives Tidwell and Rhodes.” I stared through the open double doors of the tiny foyer, fixated on the wooden cross on the far wall at the opposite end of the sanctuary. A Metro officer greeted us and printed our names and titles in the crime scene logbook.

He directed us to Officer Lee, the lead officer, who extended his hand to Detective Tidwell. Tidwell shook his hand then ducked under the crime scene tape dividing the foyer from the sanctuary. He glanced around the fifty-by-one-hundred-foot box of a room and walked down the center aisle. Officer Lee brought him up to speed.

I listened from the foyer as he recited the particulars of the crime scene from his memory and notes. He pointed to the baptistery which was situated behind a wall on the sanctuary stage and could be seen through an arched open space that began about chest high and ended two feet from the twenty-foot-high ceiling. Detective Tidwell walked across the hardwood-floored stage and stopped halfway between the pulpit and the baptistery window. He turned and listened to the rest of Officer Lee’s report. “Officers Hernandez and Smith are mapping out the crime scene and taking photos. Officer Grant has the church leaders spread out in the fellowship hall. CSI is on the way.” He pointed to the baptistery. “Our vic’s at the bottom.”

I stood frozen at the entrance of the sanctuary. My eyes locked on the wooden cross hung at the back wall of the baptistery, powerless to turn away. I stood there like an idiot, holding the crime tape in my hands. The officer behind me asked, “Hey, Rhodes, How’s the new gig?”

“Still learning where I fit in,” I muttered. “For now, I’m just the shadow.” I pointed to Detective Tidwell. “He’s the lead.”

The moment I said it, Detective Tidwell turned and said, “Hey, Rhodes, can we move on, or would you rather stay there and socialize?”

I rolled my eyes as I ducked under the tape. As I forced myself down the center aisle, I counted thirteen rows of pews. The décor was a mix of old and new. New ceiling, but old fixtures. Stained glass windows on the side walls, each depicting a scene from Jesus’s life, with a can light pointed at each one. A modest stage with drums, keyboard, guitars, and a baby grand in the opposite corner. Classic baptistery in the center behind the pulpit…a clear, acrylic pulpit. Nice.

Detective Tidwell stepped up to the fourteen-inch-tall baptistery glass set in the bottom of the window. He looked down into the water. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”

At five-six, I had to stand on my tiptoes to see over the glass window that allowed a view from the pews. I could hear the pump churning and noticed a slight movement in the water’s surface. A man’s body lay at the bottom, traces of a dark fluid seeping from the vic’s mouth and nose. The body was already releasing liquids as it decomposed. “Do we know who he is?” I asked.

“The pastor, Mark Ripley. Thirty-three-year-old white male, married, father of two.”

Detective Tidwell stared at the body. “Family been notified?”

“Not yet.” Officer Lee flipped through his notes. “According to Faith Jones, the church secretary, the pastor’s wife and kids are on their way back from St. Louis.”

“Any witnesses?” Detective Tidwell asked.

“No, but the church leaders all have theories as to his death. He was discovered when they arrived for their Tuesday morning leadership meeting.”

“How many leaders?” Detective Tidwell asked.

Officer Lee looked through his notes. “Twelve.”

“That explains all the vehicles,” I said. “Who called it in?”

“Owen Jenkins, the Men’s Ministry leader.” Lee led us out of the sanctuary to a small hallway at the side of the stage that led to the main hall of the educational building. From there we turned left to the doors of the changing rooms, one for men, and one for women. The door to the women’s side was cracked, and the frame shattered.

I scanned the room before entering. Something didn’t fit. “Why are the stairs and floor wet? The body’s been there at least a day.”

“According to Owen Jenkins, he saw the body and ran back to the church office to call 911. While he was doing that, the secretary and youth minister entered the church through the sanctuary doors. Noticing the baptistery light on, the secretary went up on the stage to turn it off. That’s when she saw the body and screamed. The youth minister took it upon himself to check the body, believing the pastor was still alive. Owen Jenkins heard the commotion, came back to the sanctuary. As soon as he noticed the youth minister in the water, he yelled for him to get out.” Officer Lee closed his notebook. “We taped it off the moment we arrived.”

“What an idiot!” Detective Tidwell snapped.

The officer smiled faintly and read another note. “The youth minister’s name is Jonathan Williams.”

Detective Tidwell pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me a well-intentioned staff member compromised our crime scene?” Tidwell didn’t like complications. They took more time.

I recorded detailed notes in my book. “I’m sure prints won’t help anyway. A church this size probably doesn’t clean back here often.” Turning to Officer Lee, I asked, “Did someone take pictures anyway?” Officer Lee nodded. “What about a sketched diagram with measurements?” He nodded again. Standard procedure. These were officers of East Precinct. They were trained well.

“Officers Hernandez and Smith will get those down to Homicide as soon as they’re finished.”

“Smell that? Bleach.” I looked at the remains of the door and frame where someone had broken through. “Looks like someone tried to clean up.” After donning sanitary booties and Nitrile gloves, we entered the crime scene, doing our best to preserve the integrity of the remaining evidence. I knelt by the stairs and pointed to a seam where the vinyl flooring met the rubber treads of the steps leading up to the baptistery. “There’s blood here.”

Detective Tidwell knelt beside me. “Here too. Look in the grooves of the stairs.”

“Sloppy job. Must have been in a hurry.”

Detective Tidwell turned to Officer Lee. “Could you see if there’s a janitor’s closet somewhere? If so, look for a looped-end string mop. If so, bag it. We’ll have the lab check it for blood and prints on the handle.”

“More here,” I announced, holding out a white robe with spots of blood on the sleeve. “Do we have any Luminal so we can check the whole room?”

Detective Tidwell said, “CSI will.” He called out for Officer Smith to take photos of the blood stains.

Detective Tidwell’s phone rang. He answered it and listened. He lowered the phone from his ear and said, “CSI is pulling in now. If you don’t mind, have them spray the room and light it up.”

“Will do, Detective. Anything else?”

“If you have anyone to spare, I’d like to have them canvass the immediate neighborhood to see if anyone saw cars coming or going between their last church service and this morning.”

Detective Tidwell sighed and asked, “Now, where are those witnesses?”

***

Excerpt from Water Grave by Mitchell S. Karnes. Copyright 2025 by Mitchell S. Karnes. Reproduced with permission from Mitchell S. Karnes. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

MITCHELL S. KARNES is a husband, father of seven, and grandfather of ten. Mitchell uses his experience and insights as a minister, counselor, and educator to write and speak on challenging issues and concerns with an ever-growing audience. He has published six novels, three short stories, a one-act play, and numerous Bible study lessons.

Through two separate battles against Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, God has given Mitchell a new perspective on life that challenges him to create stories to entertain audiences and call them to action. Mitchell’s mission is to reach and reconcile those disillusioned with God and His church and to inspire the church to live out the love of Christ Jesus in a broken and hurting world.

Catch Up With Mitchell S. Karnes:
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Amazon Author Profile
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(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.) 

Star-Crossed Egg Tarts by Jennifer J Chow Blog Tour Book Review

 STAR-CROSSED EGG TARTS

by Jennifer J Chow

January 27 - February 21, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A MAGICAL FORTUNE COOKIE NOVEL

 

Jin Bakery has been asked to cater the Lum-Wu outdoor wedding at Pixie Park. The day of the ceremony, Felicity is finishing the “cake” of tiered egg tarts as the wedding party arrives for the ceremony. When one of the groomsmen, Miles Wu, doesn’t arrive, Felicity’s best friend and local florist Kelvin generously steps in for him and the wedding goes smoothly―until cake cutting time.

That’s when Felicity finds Miles’ dead body beneath the table with her egg tarts display, stabbed by Kelvin’s gardening shears. With the detective’s sights on Kelvin, Felicity starts sleuthing away to prove his innocence, revealing dark secrets about all the wedding's attendants. They each had something to hide―and a reason to quiet Miles forever. To make matters worse, Felicity’s powers of prediction are on the fritz thanks to the emotional turmoil of a surprise visit from her estranged father.

When the groom gets poisoned at the send-off party and winds up in a coma, the stakes are even higher, not to mention Felicity’s feelings for Kelvin are beginning to feel more than friendly. Will Felicity’s magic return in time to catch the true culprit and rescue her budding relationship with Kelvin?

Praise for the Magical Fortune Cookie series and Jennifer J. Chow:

"A spellbinding whodunit unfolds in the first installment of Jennifer J. Chow’s Magical Fortune Cookie series."
~ Woman's World

"The story itself is light, sweet, and delectable. The ensemble of interesting characters adds a crispy texture to the narrative, and, true to the cozy mystery genre, a central mystery―the ill-fated fortune―keeps readers engaged from start to finish."
~ The Big Thrill

"This first in a new series featuring a likable Chinese American heroine will appeal to fans of Jenn McKinlay, Eve Calder, or Joanne Fluke."
~ Booklist

"Nobody writes cozy mysteries quite like Jennifer J. Chow. No matter what is going wrong in my life, I know that all I need to do for some comfort is turn to one of Chow's books. Chow has done it again with Ill-Fated Fortune. I did not want to leave Felicity's side even for a moment, and you won't want to either."
~ Jesse Q. Sutanto, Edgar Award-winning author of Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers

"A magical new culinary cozy mystery series filled with family, friendship, and heart―and a pinch of real magic."
~ Gigi Pandian, USA Today bestselling author of the Secret Staircase Mysteries on Ill-Fated Fortune

My Review:

This is an enjoyable cozy mystery. I like being introduced to a new culture experience and Chow does that here. I found the book very informative on Chinese American culture. While I am not so much into magic, the special powers Felicity had and the positive influences from her baked goods were entertaining. Felicity and her mom freely gave of pastries that brought luck or encouraging feelings, helping and supporting others who needed a boost.

There is a good mystery investigated by likable characters. True to cozy mystery form, Felicity and her good friend Kelvin must work to solve the murder when the police are stymied. There is also a personal side to Felicity as she meets her long absent father. That added to the balance of Felicity's investigation and her personal life. While this is the second in a series, it's the first I've read and feel it reads well on its own.

This is a fun cozy mystery set in an informative Chinese American culture. Added features include a recipe and floral tips. I hope there are more in this series.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery, Amateur Sleuth, Asian American fiction
Published by: Minotaur
Publication Date: January 21, 2025
Number of Pages: 352
ISBN: 9781250351623 (ISBN10: 1250351626)
Series: The Magical Fortune Cookie series, #2
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Minotaur

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

I put the last egg tart in place on the tiered circular display, stepped back, and admired my handiwork. From a distance, if you squinted and tilted your head just right, you might actually mistake it for a wedding cake made of gold, or Jin. Fitting, since “Jin” was both my surname and the Mandarin word for “gold.” I grinned. Guess I’d been fated for this job.

Happily, I even got to rope in loved ones as other vendors. My best friend, Kelvin Love (who has the most fitting name to cater a wedding), handled the elaborate floral displays. And my godmother, Alma Paz, made the candle arrangements, including the votives for the cake table. She’d even handcrafted bowl-shaped lace holders for each votive candle.

Once the late afternoon dissolved into evening, the small candles would be lit, and the cake made of egg tarts would turn into an enchanting display. Quite literally, because my mom had used her magic to bake joy into every last bite. After all, that’s what we Jins do—pour joy into our signature recipe treats to flow out to others. Except my own brand of magic came with an extra bonus: I made special fortune cookies that provided happiness and accurately predicted future happenings.

I added a stash of business cards to the table. I’d been made official co-owner of Jin Bakery with my mom, and I now had business cards to attest to that exciting fact. Besides, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have my contact info out there. If people were in the area for the wedding, maybe they’d decide to check out our local bakery, too.

Plus, many of the guests were from nearby Fresno, the bride’s hometown, though a fair share hailed from up north, where the groom’s relatives lived. It wasn’t too much of a trek from NorCal to visit Pixie, right? Not for delicious egg tarts, pineapple buns, and fortune cookies, all coated with magic.

“It’s beautiful,” someone whispered from near my shoulder. I would have startled at the interruption, but the voice was so gentle, it didn’t scare me in the least.

A bridesmaid must have snuck into the main tent without my noticing. Maybe the soft grass surrounding the tent had masked her footsteps. Or she’d minced along in those stiletto sandals.

She was a wisp of a young woman, just a few years past twenty. Even though I was twenty-eight, I couldn’t imagine having ever been so bright-eyed and hopeful as the girl before me. The twin honey-colored braids wrapped around her head only added to her youthfulness.

“Haley, was it?” I asked.

She nodded, almost bouncing on her heels. “You remembered my name.”

“It’s distinctive. Very pretty.”

She flushed a sweet shade of pink. “I like your name, too. Felicity is lovely.”

“Is that a rose tucked behind your ear?” I asked, pointing to the blossom, the full pink petals brushing up against a tiny golden ear cuff lined with diamonds.

She widened her green eyes at me. “Uh, is that okay? I mean, do you mind? Are you and Kelvin together—”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving away her concern. “Kelvin and I are just friends.” Best friends, technically. “I take it he’s still working on the flower arch outside?”

“Said he was ‘securing the petals.’” Kelvin was a stickler for floral quality. Guess that’s what made us good entrepreneurs in our little town of Pixie.

I glanced at Haley’s T-shirt and jeans. “What time is it? Do you need to change?”

“Four forty-five,” she said. “I better get ready.”

The wedding guests would show up at six. Right now, only us hired help and the wedding party, plus the parents of the bride and groom, were roaming the surrounding green space.

“Jada’s in our tent doing makeup, and she said she’d help me,” Haley said.

“I should get going, too.” I’d promised the bride, Leanne, that I’d check on the tea ceremony. Not that I’d be super helpful. I’m third-gen Chinese American and had had to google what the traditional tea ritual entailed.

I followed Haley’s bouncing steps out of the larger main tent into the lush green of Pixie Park. Our town’s biggest park definitely had enough space for the Lum-Wu ceremony. The bride and groom had asked to pitch four tents for the event: a reception tent for food, his and her tents for wedding prep, and a tent for the traditional tea serving ritual.

Pixie Park also boasted a large hill, and it was sure to look magnificent with its aerial view for the actual wedding ceremony and exchanging of vows. Kelvin was on the hill now, fussing over the flowers on the custom arch he’d made.

I waved at him. He bobbed his head at me, his fingers still patting petals into place. Kelvin looked good fancied up, in a dress shirt and pressed slacks. His usual go-to was a casual Henley and jeans.

There was a rainbow of beautiful blossoms decorating the immense arch he’d constructed. I didn’t know why Kelvin was so worried. There wasn’t a breeze to be found. It was perfect, and the flowers should stay put.

If anything, the temperature was slightly too warm today. Thankfully, it was dry heat, typical of the San Joaquin Valley. Whoever thought tea was a great idea in July had not factored in the weather. Then again, traditions were important. I headed over to the tea tent, and as soon as I put my head through the flap, Leanne squealed.

“You came to help. Thank goodness,” she said. The bride-to-be wore a red qipao with a golden phoenix trailing down the front. Her hair was pinned up, and pearls were scattered across the hairdo as decoration, matching the dangling pearl earrings she wore.

“How can I assist?” I asked.

“With the hot plate. You’re good in the kitchen. Er, bakery. Can you get it started?”

“I can try.” I mean, I was hired to cater the cake, not the tea. But I’d done the bare minimum online research. Maybe I could fake my way through.

***

Excerpt from Star-Crossed Egg Tarts by Jennifer J Chow. Copyright 2025 by Jennifer J Chow. Reproduced with permission from St. Martin’s Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Agatha, Anthony, Lefty, and Lilian Jackson Braun Award-nominated author. Jennifer J. Chow writes cozy mysteries filled with hope and heritage.

Catch Up With Jennifer J Chow:
www.JenniferJChow.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @jenniferjchow
Instagram - @jenjchow
Threads - @jenjchow
Facebook - @JenJChow

 

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I received a complimentary egalley of this book through Partners in Crime Book Tours. My comments are an independent and honest review. The rest of the copy of this post was provided by Partners in Crime Book Tours.

(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.)

Looking at Women Looking at War by Victoria Amelina Book Review

About the Book:

When Russia invaded Ukraine on February 24, 2022, Victoria Amelina was busy writing a novel, taking part in the country’s literary scene, and parenting her son. Now she became someone new: a war crimes researcher and the chronicler of extraordinary women like herself who joined the resistance. These heroines include Evgenia, a prominent lawyer turned soldier, Oleksandra, who documented tens of thousands of war crimes and won a Nobel Peace Prize in 2022, and Yulia, a librarian who helped uncover the abduction and murder of a children’s book author.

Everyone in Ukraine knew that Amelina was documenting the war. She photographed the ruins of schools and cultural centers; she recorded the testimonies of survivors and eyewitnesses to atrocities. And she slowly turned back into a storyteller, writing what would become this book.

On the evening of June 27th, 2023, Amelina and three international writers stopped for dinner in the embattled Donetsk region. When a Russian cruise missile hit the restaurant, Amelina suffered grievous head injuries, and lost consciousness. She died on July 1st. She was thirty-seven. She left behind an incredible account of the ravages of war and the cost of resistance. Honest, intimate, and wry, this book will be celebrated as a classic.

My Review:

Living in the U.S., I have never had the experience of being in a war zone. I cannot even imagine what it must be like. Reading this book helped me gain some perspective on what it is like to be in Ukraine war activities having started already in 2014. So many people have lost everything.

I was particularly impacted by her experience of crossing a street when under an air raid alert. Acknowledging that she and those she was with had a greater chance of being killed by missile than a car, they nonetheless walked back to the crosswalk and waited for the green light. “There are no clear rules for surviving the war,” she wrote, “but there are still rules for living.” (1674/4590) One can still be polite, be elegant, and be human. Such was her attitude while investigating war crimes committed against her fellow Ukrainians.

Since Amelina was killed while she was still researching and writing, editors have compiled her material to highlight lessons learned by the novelist turned war crimes investigator. Some of the material is presented as notes and unfinished sentences. That draws more attention to her death before she finished her work. It may be a little hard to read in some areas but well worth the effort.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

About the Author:

Victoria Amelina was killed by a Russian missile in July, 2023. She was an award-winning Ukrainian novelist, essayist, poet, and human rights activist whose prose and poems have been translated into many languages. In 2019/2020 she lived and traveled extensively in the US. She wrote both in Ukrainian and English, and her essays have appeared in Irish Times, Dublin Review of Books, and Eurozine. Photo credit: May Lee.

St Martin's Press, 320 pages.

I received a complimentary egalley of this book from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.'

(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.)

Veronica Ruiz Breaks the Bank by Elle Cosimano Book Review

About the Book:

Veronica Ruiz is on the run for the first time in her life—though certainly not the last. After being falsely accused of stealing money from her college sorority, she packs up and heads to her cousin Ramón's apartment, planning to change her name and start over, away from backstabbing girls and university drama (and far, far away from her arrest warrant in Maryland).

At the local bank on the first morning of her new life, it occurs to Vero that she'd be a better bank teller than most of the current employees; she may not have much money, but what little she does have, she knows how to manage. Unfortunately, the only available position is a cleaning job and so, desperate for a fresh start, she takes the bank manager’s offer.

But nothing in Vero's world has ever been simple so of course, shortly after she begins work, she overhears a conversation between her new boss and a security guard: someone who works there has been stealing. Seeing a window of opportunity, Vero sets out to find the identity of the thief, present the evidence, and then push for the perfect job. All of which would be easier if her irresistibly infuriating childhood crush Javi wasn’t living in the same damn town.

Offering the insight that readers have been craving into fan-favorite Vero's past and a closer look at the moment Finlay and Vero first meet, Veronica Ruiz Breaks the Bank is a can't-miss addition to the Finlay Donovan series.

My Review:

This novella takes us back to the beginning of Vero leaving school, her troubled relationship with Javi, and ultimately meeting Finlay and becoming her baby sitter. It gives us a good idea of Vero's explosive personality and her detecting skills. It is a good short read for those wanting to know more about Vero.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my reviews of the full length novels in this series: Finlay Donovan is Killing It, Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead, Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun, and Finlay Donovan Rolls the Dice.

About the Author:

Elle Cosimano is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, an International Thriller Writers Award winner, and an Edgar Award nominee. Elle’s debut novel for adults, Finlay Donovan Is Killing It, kicked off a witty, fast-paced contemporary mystery series, which was a People magazine pick and was named one of New York Public Library's Best Books of 2021. The third book in the series, Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun, was an instant New York Times bestseller. In addition to writing novels for teens and adults, her essays have appeared in HuffPost and Time. Cosimano lives with her husband and two sons in Virginia. Photo credit: Holly Virginia Photography

Minotaur Books, 119 pages.

I received a complimentary egalley of this novella from the publisher. My comments are an independent and honest review.

(My star ratings: 5-I love it, 4-I like it, 3-It's OK, 2-I don't like it, 1-I hate it.)