Tuesday, November 5, 2024

The Cadieux Murders by R J Koreto Blog Tour Book Review

 

THE CADIEUX MURDERS

by R.J. Koreto

November 4-29, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The ink is still wet on the contract, but Wren Fontaine is already running into trouble as she renovates Cadieux House, a modernist masterpiece on Long Island's exclusive Gold Coast. The home's architect was the brilliant and eccentric Marius Cadieux, her father's mentor, and Ezra doesn't want Wren to change as much as a doorknob.

And the home itself comes with a dark past: In 1955, it was the site of the never-solved murder of its owner, Dennis Blaine. Cadieux himself was alleged to be having an affair with Dennis's wife, the stunningly beautiful Rebecca. It seems like yesterday's headlines, but then someone starts killing people with a connection to the house. The home's new owner—bestselling novelist Bronwyn Merrick—may be using the house to launch a fictionalized account of the 1955 crime. But someone may not want to her to. Just how far will Bronwyn's armed bodyguard go to protect her?

As Wren untangles the threads, she finds they all lead back to the house. Rebecca apparently inspired the strange, yet alluring residence, and both the home and its mistress may have caused uncontrolled emotions that led to tragedy. Wren uses all her architectural skills to decipher the hidden message Cadieux cunningly wove into the home's design. She must think back 20 years to when, as a little girl, she met Cadieux. Deeply impressed with Wren, he gave her a clue about the house—and his unusual friendship with Rebecca. With her girlfriend Hadley at her side, Wren eventually solves the mysteries of the home and the people who lived there, develops a grudging respect for modernist architecture—and learns something about the difference between love and obsession.

My Review:

I enjoyed this unusual mystery centered around understanding a house. That a house could reveal insights about the people living it and the person for whom it was designed is a unique plot structure, but Koreto pulls it off. I find his writing style compelling. All the conversations are methodical, going through a complete thought and explanation process. There are no short interactions lacking information. There is no ragged dialogue. All is thought out well and is the way I wish people communicated. Some may find this writing style tedious but I like it.

Wren is a good heroine. We learn quite a bit about architecture from her work and explanations of it. I did have a little difficulty picturing the house and would have like more detailed descriptions, perhaps how the curved walls worked to give openness yet privacy, for example. There are a number of interesting support characters. There is a decent murder mystery included and Wren manages to figure it out in the end with a little help from her friends. I was a little surprised in that information other than what the house provided was needed to identify the villain.

This is a good cozy mystery for those who like one centering on a house, its architect and those who occupied it. While it is the third in a series, it reads well on its own.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my review of an earlier book in the series, The Greenleaf Murders.

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: October 15, 2024
Number of Pages: 237
Series: The Historic Homes Mysteries, 3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop.org | Audible | Goodreads | Level Best Books

Read an excerpt:

From Chapter 1

Wren stood on the shore and stared, trying to sort out her feelings about the ineffable house in front of her. She was only vaguely aware that while she looked at the house, her companion looked at her.

"So, Ms. Architect—what say you?" Bronwyn finally asked. Wren saw her wry smile. She knew she'd have to answer, and Bronwyn would expect it to be clever.

"Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness," Wren said.

"Is that an original observation?" asked Bronwyn.

Wren laughed. "You flatter me. It's the great modernist architect Frank Gehry. This house is very much of its time and place. Look at the white stucco walls, the glass and steel, the absolute cleanliness of lines. The geometric arrangement of the layers is mathematically perfect."

"Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" asked the woman, arching an eyebrow.

Wren knew there could be no softening the message. "I don't find it welcoming. There is something very self-aware about modernist homes. A look-at-me arrogance about them, as if they are doing you a favor of letting you inside." She paused, wondering if she had gone too far. "But maybe I'm being unfair. I haven't been inside it yet. And there's no doubt that it's stunning." She looked at Bronwyn, waiting for her reaction.

"Are you saying I may have made a mistake buying it?" asked Bronwyn. Wren heard the teasing in her voice.

"No. Nobody ever made a mistake buying a house that spoke to them." Yes, even if they spent $30 million for it. "If you are honest with yourself about what you want, you will be happy here. And if you are honest with me, I guarantee I can give you what you want with the renovation."

"Fair enough," said Bronwyn. "Was that Frank Gehry again?"

"No, that was entirely me."

"Ah. But as Gehry said, it should yearn for timeliness. Has this succeeded in that?"

"We'll need to give it another century."

Bronwyn nodded. "Maybe it's because I'm a writer. I become obsessed in making sure my books, the plots and subplots, are exciting. This house looks exciting. I was happy in my nice, simple co-op, and then my financial advisor told me I could do better. Much better. I fell in love with this right away. The more I walked through it, the more I liked it, the idea that I will be able to stay in it a long time, and keep finding something new about it."

"Then you absolutely did the right thing. Indeed, that is the very purpose of a house like this," said Wren. She mulled over her next statement. "When I was a girl, however, I wanted to live in a Victorian manor house, with a great hall with a huge hearth and handmade wooden furniture. I'd wear long dresses and be attended to by maids in starched uniforms." Did I just sound silly?

"That's very romantic," said Bronwyn, and Wren wondered if that was a criticism, a put-down for a flighty young girl. "But then again, I feel romantic about this, about men in classic tuxedos and women in Chanel dresses, with cigarettes and dry martinis and Dave Brubeck playing in the background. I guess we're both emotional that way, so despite our differences about favorite eras, I'm thinking hiring you is going to turn out to be a good decision as well."

Wren felt relief wash over her. She felt confident building houses but closing a deal—that involved people. She still didn’t trust her abilities when people were involved. Of course, there was still one more feature of the house they needed to discuss: The "tragedy." That's how the papers had described it.

But Wren wasn't going to bring it up first.

Bronwyn hugged her leather jacket. "It's a great view, but it's getting cold. Let's go inside."

Yes. Wren always looked over the outside first, but she was especially excited about seeing the interior. Until Bronwyn had bought it a few weeks ago, no one had been inside the house since the 1950s, except for the caretaker staff.

The house overwhelmed Wren despite herself. Oh yes, she thought, Marius Cadieux knew it would. He would be so amused. So very proud. No—smug. Even if it wasn't to her taste, there was no denying what Cadieux had achieved here: the soaring ceiling, the clever use of windows filling the house with light even on a dreary day, the unexpected curves and angles, the steel staircase, which also served as a sculpture. Wren just stared. There really was nothing to compare it to—a Cadieux house was always unique. She could see him standing over her, "Very nice, isn't it, little one? And of course, your client is overwhelmed by it, as she should be."

"I'm glad I bought a house that even knocks the socks off another architect," said Bronwyn, grinning.

"It certainly does," said Wren. "I've seen pictures, but they're not the same as really being inside it." Wren took in Bronwyn, with her attractive, angular face and the matching pixie haircut. Did the author indeed have a modernist personality, a match for this home, a connection with Cadieux? Indeed, did Bronwyn know how perfect she looked in her new house?

Wren walked among the rooms, taking note of the artful ways Cadieux had divided the house—very few true walls and doors, just a series of levels and passages, rectangular pillars clad in stone. Cadieux loved granite and marble, quartzite and sandstone, and merged them with oak and walnut, teak and lyptus. Wren saw Bronwyn marveling over it, even though she had already visited her new home several times. That was the thing about a Cadieux home, that Bronwyn had already realized: You could live there 40 years and marvel over it every day for the rest of your life.

"I'd like to see upstairs." Wren smiled. "But as you no doubt noticed, 'upstairs' is relative in a Cadieux house, with its intersecting layers. It just flows. That was a hallmark of Cadieux, but none I've seen are quite as…" She let her voice trail off.

"You can't find the word?" said Bronwyn.

"You're the writer—can you? Architectural journalists struggled to describe him. But here we go…'intriguing.' No other Cadieux house is as intriguing as this one. It may take me a while to figure it out."

"You mean, how it's put together?" asked Bronwyn.

"Oh no. That's easy. I meant what is its personality? Marius Cadieux stamped a personality on this house. It has a reason, and I will find out what that is. For now, we look at it: See the extraordinary flow of the house, the ways the rooms are separate and yet merge into each other, the way the light plays along the floors and walls. The materials blend into each other, and Cadieux is taught in every architecture school—as if you could teach this."

"It sounds like you studied him," said Bronwyn. "It sounds like you knew him. Did you?" She fixed her eyes on Wren, who gave that question some thought.

She didn't want to go there, not yet.

***

Excerpt from The Cadieux Murders by R.J. Koreto. Copyright 2024 by R.J. Koreto. Reproduced with permission from R.J. Koreto. All rights reserved.

 

Don't Miss The Previous Historic Homes Mysteries

The Greenleaf Murders by R.J. Koreto

The Greenleaf Murders

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads
The Turnbull Murders by R.J. Koreto

The Turnbull Murders

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

 

Author Bio:

Over the years, R.J. Koreto has been a magazine writer, website manager, textbook editor, novelist and merchant seaman. He was born and raised in New York City, graduated from Vassar College, and has wanted to be a writer since reading The Naked and the Dead. In addition to his novels, he has published short stories in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, the 2020 Bouchercon Anthology and Paranoia Blues: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Songs of Paul Simon. His current series features Wren Fontaine, an architect who finds mysteries in the historic homes she renovates. He and his wife have two grown daughters, and they divide their time between Rockland County, N.Y., and Martha’s Vineyard, Mass.

Catch Up With R.J. Koreto:
www.RJKoreto.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @rkoreto1
Instagram - @RJKoreto
Threads - @RJKoreto
Twitter/X - @RJKoreto
Facebook - @RJKoreto

 

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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.)

Monday, November 4, 2024

Over the Edge by Irene Hannon Book Review

About the Book:


Trauma survivor Lindsey Barnes hasn't fully recovered from the ordeal that almost took her life, and now she's in the middle of another crisis. Not only is she the sole witness in a high-profile murder case, but someone is also pushing her to question her sanity.

Police detective Jack Tucker doesn't know what to make of her story, especially when her elusive enemy leaves no evidence behind to lend credence to her claims. Yet the more he gets to know the appealing personal chef, the more he's convinced someone is targeting not only her sanity, but her life.

And unless they can figure out who is behind the campaign to undermine her credibility, a murderer could slip away--leaving more than one body in his or her wake.

My Review:

This is another good novel of suspense from Hannon. Some issues in the novel include parental abandonment in childhood but with good foster care and healing from past trauma incidents. There is not a strong faith message as, even in suspenseful situations, there is only mention of “someone else” in addition to luck when it came to preservation. The character development was good as both the heroine and the investigator must overcome past issues to function well now.

After initial tension between the heroine and the investigating detective (because of a previous event) he seems to be quite taken with her and develops romantic feeling for her, even while the active investigation is ongoing. I do prefer romance held in check until the investigation is over. Near the end, there is an emphasis on expressing physical attraction, something I would not have seen a decade ago in a “Christian” romantic suspense novel.

Hannon is good at romantic suspense. He writing style is easy to read and there is a good dose of suspense near the end. While this is the second in a series, it reads well on its own. I would have liked a stronger faith message and less emphasis on physical attraction but other than that, a good read.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my review of the previous book in this series, Into the Fire.


About the Author:


Irene Hannon is the bestselling and award-winning author of more than 65 contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels. In addition to her many other honors, she is a three-time winner of the prestigious RITA Award from Romance Writers of America. She is also a member of RWA's elite Hall of Fame and has received a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews for her entire body of work. Millions of her books have been sold worldwide, and her novels have been translated into multiple languages.

Revell, 368 pages.

(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.)

Saturday, November 2, 2024

I Know She Was There by Jennifer Sadera Blog Tour Book Review

 

I KNOW SHE WAS THERE

by Jennifer Sadera

October 28 - November 22, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

I Know She Was There by Jennifer Sadera

Be careful what you see when you shouldn’t be looking.

Residents of the posh Upstate New York neighborhood of Deer Crossing enjoy all the amenities wealth provides. From drive-up dog-grooming to monthly botox parties, these lucky suburbanites have everything they could ever want. And one thing they don’t. Stalker Caroline Case, who wheels her infant along their streets each night with just one goal...to spy on anyone too careless or too foolish to close their window blinds.

Convinced the owners of the impressive homes are living a dream existence, the troubled new mom hopes to escape her working-class life by prying secrets from the unsuspecting. But the fairy tale twists into a nightmare when she sees something she shouldn’t. Something that shatters her illusions about the people in the privileged community she’s obsessed with, even as she begins to doubt what she saw.

As Caroline investigates the event, shocking secrets are laid bare, and nothing is as it seems. She knows she must prove something sinister occurred in Deer Crossing or risk letting someone get away with murder.

Praise for I Know She Was There:

"‘Twisty’ doesn’t begin to describe this compelling and complicated story. Don’t even try to guess how this turns out—just put yourself in Sadera’s capable hands and enjoy the ride!"
~ Karen Dionne, author of the #1 international bestseller The Marsh King’s Daughter and The Wicked Sister

"In the world of thrillers, few conceits are more alluring than a ‘mostly harmless’ habit gone terribly awry. Such is the premise in Jennifer Sadera’s addictive I Know She Was There, where protagonist Caroline Case’s proclivity for sidewalk-spying on her wealthy neighbors turns into her own living nightmare. Sadera’s deeply psychological novel, echoing nicely to Rear Window, has Caroline guessing not only what she saw, but whether she saw it at all, and her struggle becomes ours through effective first-person narration. An impressive and thrilling debut . . . Sadera is an author to watch."
~ Carter Wilson, USA Today bestselling author of The Father She Went to Find

"Jennifer Sadera’s intense debut about a troubled young mother on a passionate mission to discover the truth kept me awake all night! It’s a gut-wrenching and addictively readable thriller."
~ Bonnar Spring, author of Toward the Light (2020), Independent Publishers’ bronze medal winner for Best First Novel, New Hampshire Literary Awards—People's Choice winner for fiction, and Disappeared (2022) ‘Best of 2022’ from Bookreporter and Crime Fiction Lover short fiction: 2023 Al Blanchard Award, 2024 Derringer

"Twisty and compelling, I Know She Was There deftly explores how well we can truly know each other—or ourselves."
~ Tracy Sierra, author of Nightwatching

"A knockout debut—sharp domestic suspense that combines taut prose with a complex, artfully crafted unreliable narrator, and plenty of twists and turns that readers won't see coming. I Know She Was There proves Jennifer Sadera is a voice to watch."
~ Elena Hartwell Taylor, bestselling author of the Eddie Shoes and Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery series, including the upcoming A Cold, Cold World

My Review:

This is a very interesting psychological thriller. I had no idea what was going on for the first part of the novel. Readers see everything through the eyes of Caroline. I did not know if what I was reading was merely in Caroline's mind or was supposed to be reality. She starts out being a little creepy, walking around an upscale neighborhood at night, observing much. I thought the plot movement was a little slow in the first half of the book. I was intrigued, however, as to how it would end. There was so much deception going on, I had no idea what might ultimately happen. The end was worth the wait, with a twist that was shocking but made for a good novel. Sadera's writing style is good, purposely keeping me on the edge of confusion, I think, until all became clear at the end.

Potential readers should be aware of possible trigger situations including depression, infant death and subsequent mental issues. If those issues are of no concern, this novel is well worth a read and I recommend it.

My rating: 4/5 stars. 

Book Details:

Genre: Psychological Suspense, Domestic Suspense
Published by: CamCat Books
Publication Date: November 12, 2024
Number of Pages: 352
ISBN: 9780744310955 (ISBN10: 0744310954)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | CamCat Books

Read an excerpt:

Jane Brockton was going to get caught.

My heart raced when Jane emerged from the side door of her home; what she and I were both doing was risky, but it was too late for regrets. I wondered if she thought so too. Probably. Her behavior was becoming alarmingly brazen. I pulled Emmy’s stroller closer and pushed aside boxwood branches, widening the portal I peered through. Although Jane’s across-the-street neighbors’ hedge was directly in front of her farmhouse-style McMansion, it was too dark this late at night for me to be seen.

Go back inside if you know what’s good for you. I pressed my fingers to my lips as the man emerged from the house next to hers. Even if I’d yelled a warning, Jane Brockton wouldn’t heed it. Who the hell was I? Certainly not someone her neighbors on Woodmint Lane knew. If Jane observed my late-night excursions through the streets of her stylish suburban New York neighborhood, her first instinct wouldn’t be to worry about her behavior.

I was prepared. If confronted by any resident of the exclusive enclave, I’d explain I walked the streets late at night to lull my colicky baby to sleep. I couldn’t admit my ulterior motive—worming my way back onto Primrose Way and into my former best friend’s good graces. And there was no need to share how, lately, the lives of this neighborhood’s inhabitants had been luring me like a potent drug—or how Jane Brockton was fast becoming the kingpin of my needy addiction. Jane stood out, even in this community of excess: gourmet dinner deliveries, drive-up dog grooming, same-day laundry service, and monthly Botox parties.

Her meetings with the mystery man were far from innocent. The first tryst I’d witnessed was late the previous Friday night—exactly a week earlier. I’d strolled around the corner of Woodmint Lane just as the pair had emerged from their side-by-side houses and taken to the dark street like prowlers casing the block. I followed their skulking forms up Woodmint, being careful to stay a few dozen yards behind, until all I could discern was their silhouettes, too close to each other for friendly companionship. They’d eventually crossed Primrose Way and veered into the woods where the bike trails and picnic areas offered secluded spaces. When they didn’t emerge from the wooded area, I backed Emmy’s stroller up silently and reversed my route, heading away, my pulse still throbbing in my temples.

It was impossible to deny what was going on, as I watched similar scenes unfold three nights that week: Jane slipping soundlessly from her mudroom door like a specter, the flash of the screen door in the faint moonlight an apparent signal.

This night, as they hooked hands in the driveway between the houses, I slicked my tongue over my dry lips. She risked losing everything. I knew how that felt. Tim had left me before I’d even changed out his worn bachelor-pad sofa for the sectional I’d been eying at Ethan Allen. I watched them cross through the shadows, barely able to see them step inside the shed at the far end of Jane’s yard. And all under the nose of her poor devoted husband, Rod. He couldn’t be as gullible as he appeared, could he?

A voice called out, shattering the stillness of the night. I flinched, convinced I’d been discovered. I scanned the immediate shadows, placing a hand over my chest to still my galloping heart.

“Jane?” It was Rod’s voice. I recognized the timbre by now. Settle down, Caroline.

My eyes darted to the custom home’s open front door. Rod had noticed his wife’s abandonment earlier than usual. Warm interior light spilled across the porch floorboards and outlined Rod’s robed form in the door frame.

“Are you out here? Jane?”

The worry in his voice made me hate Jane Brockton. I flirted with the idea of stepping away from the hedge and announcing I’d witnessed her heading to the shed with the neighbor. Of course, that would be ridiculous. I was a stranger. My name, Caroline Case, would mean nothing to him.

Rod closed the door and my gaze traveled to the glowing upstairs window on the far left of his house. The light had blinked off half an hour earlier, like a giant eyelid closing over the dormered master bedroom casement. I knew exactly where their bedroom was because I’d studied the Deer Crossing home models on the builder’s website. I knew the layout of all three house styles so well I could escort potential buyers through them. I’d briefly considered it. Becoming a real-estate agent would give me access inside, where I could discover what life behind the movie-set facades was really like. Pristine marble floors, granite countertops, and crystal vases on every conceivable surface? Or gravy-laden dishes in sinks and mud-caked shoes arrayed haphazardly just inside the eye-catching front doors?

I suspected the latter was true for almost every house except for my former best friend Muzzy Owen’s place on Primrose Way. Muzzy could put Martha Stewart to shame.

I wedged myself and Emmy’s stroller further into the hedge. Becoming a real-estate agent wouldn’t connect me as intimately to Jane and Rod Brockton (information gleaned by rifling through the contents of their mailbox) as I was at this moment. Trepidation—and yes, anticipation—laced my bloodstream and turned my breathing shallow as I waited for Rod to come outside and start his nightly search for his wife. Some may consider my interest, my excitement, twisted, but I didn’t plan to use my stealthily gathered information against anyone. It was enough to reassure myself that nobody’s life was perfect, no matter how it appeared to an outsider.

A faint click echoed through the still night. I squinted through the hedge leaves, my eyes laser pointers on the side door Jane had emerged from only moments before. Rod appeared.

As he stepped into the dusky side yard, I thought about the people unknown to me until a week earlier: the latest neighborhood couple to pique my interest. Even though they were technically still strangers, I’d had an entire week to learn about the Brocktons. A few passes in my car last Saturday morning revealed a tracksuit-clad Gen Xer, her wavy hair the reddish-brown color of autumn oak leaves, and a gray-haired, bespectacled boomer in crisp dark jeans and golf shirt standing on the sage-and-cream farmhouse’s front porch. Steaming mugs in hand, their calls drifted through my open car window, cautioning their little golden designer dog when it strayed too close to the street, their voices overly indulgent, as if correcting a beloved but errant child. The very picture of domestic bliss.

I studied the Colonial to the Brocktons’ right. On the front porch steps, two tremendous Boston ferns in oversized urns stretched outward like dozens of welcoming arms. The only testament to human activity. Someone obviously cared for the vigorous plants, but a midnight peek inside that house’s mailbox revealed only empty space. It made me uncomfortable not knowing who Jane’s mystery man was.

And did Rod usually wake when his wife slipped between the silk sheets (they had to be silk) after her extracurriculars? He obviously questioned her increasingly regular late-night abandonment. He wouldn’t be roaming the dark in his nightwear if he hadn’t noticed.

Perhaps Jane said she couldn’t sleep. She needed to move—walk the neighborhood—to tire herself. Hearing that, he’d frown, warning her not to wander around in the middle of the night. Rod was the type—I was sure just by the way he coddled his dog—to worry about his lovely wife walking the dark streets, even the magical byways of Deer Crossing. Hence, the need for new places to rendezvous each night. But the shed on their very own property! Even though this night’s tryst was later than usual, it was dangerously daring to stay on-site. Maybe Jane wanted to get caught.

A scratching sound echoed through the quiet night. I looked at the side door Rod had just emerged from, saw his silhouette turn back and open it. The little dog circled him, barking sharply. The urgent yipping cut clearly through the still air, skittering my pulse. I quickly glanced at Emmy soundly sleeping in her stroller. If the dog didn’t stop barking, I’d have to get away—fast. Emmy could wake and start her colicky wailing, which would rouse the Brocktons’ neighbors whose hedge I’d appropriated. One flick of their front porch light would reveal me in all my lurking glory.

As if to answer my concerns, the dog ceased barking and scampered toward the shed. I rubbed at the sudden chill sliding across my upper arms. That little canine nose was sniffing out Jane’s trail.

Rod stepped tentatively forward. It was too dark to see what he was wearing beneath the robe, but I pictured him in L. L. Bean slippers with those heavy rubberized soles and cotton print pajamas, like Daddy used to wear. Daddy’s had line drawings of old-fashioned cars dotted across the white cotton background. Model Ts and roadsters. I felt angry with Jane all over again. How dare she . . .

“Sorry, darling,” Jane called, striding from the shadows, stopping a few feet in front of him. “I was potting those plants earlier and thought I left my cell phone in the shed.” Her voice was soft, relaxed. She was a pro.

“I saw it on the bookshelf in the study earlier this evening,” Rod said, bending to calm the little dog, who was bouncing between them like a child with ADHD.

“Oh geez, I’m losing it,” she said, laughing.

Not yet, you’re not, I thought. Not yet.

***

Excerpt from I Know She Was There by Jennifer Sadera. Copyright 2024 by Jennifer Sadera. Reproduced with permission from Jennifer Sadera. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Jennifer Sadera

Jennifer Sadera began her writing career just out of college as a junior copywriter at book publisher NAL before transitioning to the editorial departments of national women’s magazines Woman’s World, Redbook, and Beauty Digest. She’d already established herself as a freelance writer and blogger when she decided to follow her true passion: creating novels. She is an active member of International Thriller Writers, Mystery Writers of America, and Sisters in Crime; her writing has earned her multiple awards at Atlanta Writers Conferences and a fellowship at the Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing. I Know She Was There is Jennifer’s debut psychological suspense novel. When not writing, Jennifer can be found gardening, traveling, or reading anything she can get her hands on. She is blessed with CJ, her husband of many years, two adult children, Amanda and Ryan, and two adorable rescue grand dogs named Sunny and Moonie.

Catch Up With Jennifer Sadera:
JenniferSadera.com
Goodreads
LinkedIn
Instagram - @jensadera
Twitter/X - @jennifersadera
Facebook - @jennifersadera

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

ENTER FOR A CHANCE TO WIN:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Jennifer Sadera. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours


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.)

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

The Gardener's Plot by Deborah J Benoit Book Review

About the Book:


A woman helps set up a community garden in the Berkshires, only to find a body in one of the plots on opening day.

After life threw Maggie Walker a few curveballs, she’s happy to be back in the small, Berkshires town where she spent so much time as a child. Marlowe holds many memories for her, and now it also offers a fresh start. Maggie has always loved gardening, so it’s only natural to sign on to help Violet Bloom set up a community garden.

When opening day arrives, Violet is nowhere to be found, and the gardeners are restless. Things go from bad to worse when Maggie finds a boot buried in one of the plots… and there’s a body attached to it. Suddenly, the police are looking for a killer and they keep asking questions about Violet. Maggie doesn’t believe her friend could do this, and she’s going to dig up the dirt needed to prove it.

The Gardener’s Plot takes readers to the heart of the Berkshires and introduces amateur sleuth Maggie Walker in Deborah J. Benoit’s Minotaur Books/Mystery Writers of America First Crime Novel Award-winning debut.

My Review:

This is the best debut cozy mystery I have read in some time. It is the winner of the publisher's first novel award and I can see why. Benoit has created a number of interesting characters. I like Maggie. A gardener at heart, she is living in the freedom of her near-ex being accidentally killed before their divorce was final. She has returned to the town familiar from her youth. That reveals friends and enemies. I like Sally, neighbor from childhood, now an aggressive sidekick who is as determined to solve a murder as Maggie is. But there are also those who despise Maggie. Catherine, wife of the town chief of police, has been at odds with her since grade school. Benoit provides readers with good character construction of both friends and foes.

The plot has a good balance of mystery investigative development and character thought and action. Benoit's writing style is quite good with some clever word construction along the way. There is a serious dose of suspense near the end that made me want to know how the last scenes worked out. I do wish there had been a few more gardening tips though I really appreciated her description of planting tomato starts.

A great cozy mystery with well drawn characters, a well constructed plot, a good dose of heart pounding suspense near the end, and the potential of a romance in the near future. I do hope there is another in this series as I liked this one so much. I will be eagerly watching for it.

My rating: 5/5 stars.


About the Author:


DEBORAH J. BENOIT was a legal secretary for 30 years before deciding to pursue more creative endeavors. Her debut novel, The Gardener’s Plot, won the Minotaur Books/Mystery Writers of America First Crime Novel Competition. Born and raised in the Berkshires of western Massachusetts, there’s no place she’d rather call home, even in winter. Determined to never stop learning, Deborah loves sharing her knowledge of gardening, through articles she’s written, in person, and on social media. When not writing or digging up plots in her garden, she can be found working on her latest fiber arts project. Photo credit: Deborah J Benoit

Minotaur Books, 336 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.)

Tuesday, October 29, 2024

A Broken Reflection by Shelly M Patel Blog Tour Book Review


A BROKEN REFLECTION

by Shelly M. Patel

October 7 - November 1, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A Broken Reflection by Shelly M Patel

In the game of deception and betrayal, nothing is ever as it seems, not even murder.

Secrets would be revealed in the dead of night, and lives would be changed forever. With each body count rising, Claire and Stephen began to unveil the truth, exposing the dark side of their seemingly perfect lives. In the shadows, Jessica watched from the sidelines with grave anticipation, ready to take hold of her moment. The game of cat and mouse had begun. Will Claire and Stephen be able to ride out the storm and rebuild their lives? Will Jessica seal her place next to Stephen no matter what the cost? Will the killer ever be caught?

  

 My Review: 

This is a good psychological thriller. The narrative follows a number of characters with first person viewpoints. Anticipation is built as there are many hints included, the characters thinking something is off, not right. Since the narrative is first person, we get observations from each character, not objective information. We wonder who Claire is, really. Which character is truly giving us correct information?

The narrative style may be familiar to some readers, as it was to me, so the reveal of the truth near the end was not a surprise. Even though I had figured out what was going on, the story kept me reading. I was glad I did as there was another twist after the general reveal which was a surprise to me.

This is a good novel for readers who like murder mysteries with an unusual plot construction and a surprising twist or two.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery/Suspense
Published by: Self-Published
Publication Date: October 2024
Number of Pages: 256
ISBN: 9798350963038
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

Claire

It’s probably going to sound crazy to you, but I felt as though someone was watching me all the time, night, and day. You know how it is—you sense these things. Well, I did, anyway.

That’s right; I could sense it. A hole the size of a crater slowly burned in the back of my head, created by their stares. By ‘they,’ it wasn’t clear who it was that watched me yet.

But they were there, for sure.

An eerie silence had seemed to follow me everywhere, and it was impossible to shake that feeling of someone observing from afar. Someone spying, tracking me.

Knowing everything…

I shook my head quickly as if it could banish the intrusiveness from my head.

Damn, these wretched thoughts! I said to myself. But every time, a chill would run down my spine like icy fingertips tracing their way up and down my back. Taunting me, Poking fun at me.

My eyes darted, nervously searching for any sign of movement in the crowd, but there wasn’t anyone out of place; everyone seemed totally normal. Well, except for me, of course.

Okay, I’m just exaggerating, but you know how it is when you feel pursued like that.

I almost dared not glance back, afraid to ask who it could be, feeling as if they were observing me again, peering in on everything like a pervert.

The idea sent shivers up my spine, making the hair on my arms and back stand on end. And my gut clenched as if it would make me vomit, just that sensation of someone there, knowing everything I did, every tiny move. Initially, a tingling came to my scalp, which gradually traveled down my head and neck before settling into the back of my skull.

It was the same nervousness that had pervaded me when taking my dental admission test; it was that cold bite gnawing at my gut, a feeling unwilling to go away. This was a warning, and that was clear; a terrible thing was about to occur.

It was an omen, a premonition if you like. Something very bad would be coming my way.

Soon.

To try and regain my composure, I closed my eyes.

There was little doubt that if Stephen had overheard me saying all this, he’d have me committed to a mental institution.

I needed to zero down on the task at hand.

So, I took a half-day off work, using it to come here.

I’m all by myself now. See. Look around! Who can wish me harm?

Choosing the proper dress for the charity ball hadn’t been easy either; after all, who liked wasting time wandering from store to store? I supposed some girls didn’t mind it. Some even claimed to like shopping. As for me, it was loathsome, a chore, and irritating.

However, the attire had to be suitable for the occasion. The planning committee had chosen to preserve the masquerade ball theme for this year’s event.

Phyllis was in charge this year, so Stephen and I wanted to show our support.

I had little interest in the woman, but as Stephen often reminded me, I should “be nice, Claire.” He played golf with her husband, Bob, you see, and Bob happened to be Stephen’s long-time friend and business partner. Both were decent guys; they wanted me to back Phyllis up and ensure the event went well. It was something I had to do—according to Stephen.

And Stephen was never wrong about this kind of thing, was he?

But Phyllis was the kind of person who always seemed to try too hard. She needed to be liked to extremes, so she was a bit of a people pleaser, always fussing about something.

It all had to be just so, just perfect. So annoying. Everyone had to love everything about her, big or small as if she would implode if you missed a moment’s flattery.

Phyllis had an oblong face framed by a short blonde bob hairstyle that she thought made her look stylish and sophisticated, but to me, it smacked of desperation and made her look maternal.

But despite this, people seemed to love her enthusiastic and friendly demeanor. Phyllis would pop up no matter where she went or what group she joined.

“Everything all right for you, dear?”

Or “Oh, your hair is lovely, dear,” she would say.

Or “Wherever did you buy such a divine dress?”

“Look at you,” she enthused. “Your makeup is so on point today! Very pretty, sweetie.”

Ugh. Her words were creepy, all this excessive enthusiasm about every topic imaginable. I’d look around me when it happened, and the weird thing was that everyone around Phyllis looked as if they felt charmed by her efforts. But weren’t they ultimately exhausted from all the energy being thrown their way, like I was?

And then there was that other thing—the other side of her.

***

Excerpt from A Broken Reflection by Shelly M. Patel. Copyright 2024 by Shelly M. Patel. Reproduced with permission from Shelly M. Patel. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Shelly M Patel

Shelly M. Patel enjoys writing mystery books. Her first Children's book, Jake has Dyslexia, entered the Reader's Choice award in 2021. In 2023, she won second place in CloutBooks for the Reader's Choice Award for her novel When Secrets Kill. She lives in Virginia Beach with her husband, three beautiful children, and their dog, Teddy.

Catch Up With Shelly M. Patel:
BooksByShelly.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @shellymauthor
Instagram - @shellympatel
Facebook - @ShellyPatelauthor

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours


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.)

Monday, October 28, 2024

The Crushing by Kerry Peresta Blog Tour Book Review

The Crushing by Kerry Peresta Banner

THE CRUSHING

by Kerry Peresta

October 21 - November 15, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

cover

OLIVIA CALLAHAN SUSPENSE

 

The victim of a vicious assault six years ago that resulted in a traumatic brain injury, Olivia Callahan is now a private investigator with her own firm. The assault that almost took her life resulted in a spectacular metamorphosis. No longer the shy, passive introvert she once was, she’s become a driving and determined force. However, the lack of impulse control caused by her rewired brain causes her to run toward trouble instead of away from it.

When Olivia sends her colleague, Sherry, to the Florida panhandle to find a missing friend, Hannah; the search takes Sherry into the dark heart of an abusive, hostage situation. The man Hannah married is cruel, dangerous, and well-connected. Olivia reels in her favorite cop—Sergeant Hunter Faraday—for a discreet assist, and it soon becomes clear that Hannah’s new husband is adept at waging war against anything that blocks his way.

While rescuing Hannah is Olivia’s primary goal, her incarcerated ex-husband has other plans. He’s collected friends who support his obsessive need to punish her for her role in his murder conviction, and a time bomb is ticking.

As Olivia and Sherry battle to save Hannah, try to neutralize the fiendish plan of an ex bent on revenge, and endure a terrifying race for their lives through the Florida wetlands; a final betrayal waits patiently in the dark. Smiling.

Praise for The Crushing:

"Fans of Frieda McFadden and Lisa Jewell will stay up past their bedtimes devouring the latest thriller from Kerry Peresta! Haunted by her abusive ex-husband, P.I. Olivia Callahan had better keep her friends close and her enemies closer. Now, if she could only tell them apart. When one of her best friends goes missing in a Florida swamp, the clock is ticking. The suspense winds tighter on every page!"
~ Kelly Oliver, author of the Jessica James Mysteries

"The tension in Kerry Peresta's The Crushing is off the chain. Chilling! 'I can beat this,' the captive whispers from her locked room. 'I will escape.' Taut. Gripping. Engrossing. Highly recommended!"
~ Tracy Clark, award-winning author of the Cass Raines Chicago mysteries and the Detective Harriet Foster series.

"Rich details, a strong, character-driven plot, and enough snaky twists and turns to give you vertigo - this fourth entry in Kerry Peresta’s Olivia Callahan series will have you sweating bullets and turning pages like a tornado, leaving you as breathless as a mile sprinter. There’s nothing less simple than a simple missing-persons case, and there are far worse things than gators in the dark, dank Florida boonies. Don’t believe me? Read The Crushing."
~ J.R. Sanders, Shamus Award winning author of the Nate Ross novels.

My Review:

This is an entertaining continuing adventure. The heroine, Olivia, has been through much so to understand her better, the previous novels in the series should be read. This novel has several aspects of domestic abuse so potential readers should be aware of possible trigger situations. Olivia has come into her own and leads a successful PI business. She has baggage with a hateful and vengeful ex-husband, a man who may very well want to ruin her. But there is currently a great fellow with whom Olivia has struggled to make a romantic commitment in the past. Will she finally say yes this time?

There are a number of deceptive people involved in this novel so the plot has many twists and turns. There is a good deal of suspense as Olivia and her co-PI Sherry more than once encounter danger as they rescue a woman abused by her controlling and vindictive husband. The narrative progresses by focusing on different people. Only Olivia's was written in first person so it was not a confusing way to follow the action. It does give one the opportunity to see the action through the eyes of many characters.

This is a good novel taking readers farther along in the life of Olivia. I hope there are more adventures to come.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my reviews of the earlier books in the series: The Deadening, The Rising, and The Torching,

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller, Suspense
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: October 15, 2024
Number of Pages: 310
ISBN: 978-1-68512-770-1
Series: Olivia Callahan Suspense, Book Four
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Level Best Books

Read an excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Sherry crammed the phone against her ear as she dashed through the thick undergrowth, trudged across boggy marshes, and arrived at a feeder stream.

Olivia! Olivia?”

Nothing.

“Dammit!” she muttered, shoving her cell back into her pocket. She calculated that the nearest town rested fifteen miles down the highway out here in Florida-cracker country, and holing up until the shooter emerged seemed the best option.

She should’ve known there’d be no service out here.

Where did he go? She scraped mud off her face and rubbed her sunburned cheeks. He actually fired a weapon. On no planet had she ever thought this little trek would become a fight for her life, yet here she stood, hands glued to the trunk of a huge palm, eyes darting back and forth across the marshy, pancake-flat wastelands of inland Florida. Behind her lay a wide body of water surrounded by suspicious-looking marsh grass and, she suspected, alligators…and in front of her lay miles of marshland and bedraggled palms spearing the sky.

Why had she volunteered for this assignment, again?

“I just had to get my investigator’s license,” she muttered. “Maybe I should’ve stayed put as Olivia’s assistant instead of private investigator. This isn’t quite how I envisioned the job.”

She rubbed her calves. How long had she been running? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? An hour? Where was Olivia?

The distant blast of gunfire reached her ears. A bullet sliced through the air and hit the tree she’d wrapped herself around, missing her hand by inches. Sherry felt her stomach freeze into a block of ice.

Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she slid her hand to the paddle holster on her belt, gripped her Smith & Wesson revolver, and released the safety strap. Another crack of gunfire erupted closer this time. She swallowed, hard. A whoosh of air zipped past a mere twelve inches in front of her nose. Sherry dropped to the ground like a stone. The spikey bushes on the ground dug into her arms, her chest, her legs. She located a slight rise about ten feet away, and hastily low-crawled through the weeds on her stomach, edged to the top of the incline, and threw herself over the top.

Breathing hard, she peeked out above the edge. The crack-crack-crack of shots fired caused her to dive for cover. She took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off her palms, and fired back a volley of her own. When silence fell, she relaxed against the incline and tugged out her phone. A signal!

With fumbling fingers, she pressed in Olivia’s number. She waited through one ring, then two, before her call was answered.

“Where are you?” Olivia’s anxious voice demanded. “Are you okay?”

Tears of relief trailed down her cheeks. She rattled off a description of her location. Her gaze trained on the best-case origination of shots fired, she whispered, “Olivia! I found Hannah. She’s exhausted and weak, but I’ve got her.” Sherry listened to Olivia’s instructions. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the airport, but…wait. I hear something,” she whispered, and stuck the phone back in her pocket. She gripped her weapon with both hands.

Minutes passed. Sherry tried to breathe.

Something shuffled through the grass. Her eyes sliced left, right.

The shuffling stopped.

The hum of cicadas intensified. She swatted at mosquitoes. Sweat trickled down her face.

Sherry adjusted her grip on her sidearm.

She strained to hear more footsteps, but only heard the faint squawk of herons and hoot of owls. The setting sun left a red slash on the horizon. Bats dipped and swooped above her.

She lowered her weapon, puzzled. Had one of her prior shots wounded her target?

Taking her time, she rose from her niche behind the incline.

A single shot burst from her adversary’s weapon and sizzled through the air.

She cried out in pain. The bullet had nicked her, the sting of a monster wasp. She groped her waist with her free hand and lifted it away wet with blood. Rage rushed through her chest and down her arms. She planted her legs wide and emptied her weapon in the direction of the shooter.

The phone in her pocket vibrated with a text as she reloaded.

Another bullet clipped her in the shoulder.

The sound of sirens wailed in the distance.

She collapsed.

***

Excerpt from The Crushing by Kerry Peresta. Copyright 2024 by Kerry Peresta. Reproduced with permission from Kerry Peresta. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Kerry Peresta

Kerry Peresta is a suspense novelist, and her releases include The Deadening, The Rising, The Torching, and The Crushing, books one-four in the Olivia Callahan Suspense series; and Back Before Dawn, a standalone thriller, all published by Level Best Books Publishing. Her magazine articles have appeared in Hilton Head’s Local Life Magazine, The Bluffton Breeze, Lady Lowcountry, and Island Events Magazine. She spent twenty-five years in advertising as an account manager, creative director, editor, and copywriter. She is past chapter president of the Maryland Writers’ Association and a current member and presenter of Hilton Head Island Writers’ Network, South Carolina Writers Association, Pat Conroy Literary Center, International Thriller Writers, and the Sisters in Crime organization. Kerry is the mother of four adult kids, a flock of grandkids, and three cats. She and her husband moved to Hilton Head Island in 2015.

Catch Up With Kerry Peresta:
kerryperesta.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @kerryperesta
Amazon Author Page
Instagram - @kerryperesta
Twitter/X - @kerryperesta
Facebook Author Page
Facebook Personal Page

 

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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.)

Sunday, October 27, 2024

Mabel Goes to the Dogs by Susan Kimmel Wright Blog Tour Book Review


About the Book

Book: Mabel Goes to the Dogs

Author: Susan Kimmel Wright

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Release date: June 5, 2022

When Mabel finds herself sharing a thicket with a dead body while volunteering with canine search-and-rescue, her life has clearly once again gone to the dogs!

After losing her job at age forty-nine, Mabel thought she’d turned things around. Now, she’s doing good by volunteering and, surely, she’ll soon be a successful author, writing about her experiences. After solving two notorious, decades-old cold cases while serving as a historical society volunteer, she’s already getting invitations to appear on TV.

Her new assignment couldn’t be simpler. All she has to do is hide in the woods and let Millie the search dog practice finding her. But to her horror, Millie finds more than Mabel–there’s a dead body hiding in the same patch of brush. To make matters worse, Mabel’s maybe-boyfriend, suspended PI John Bigelow, has a dark history with the victim.

While struggling with maid-of-honor duties for best friend Lisa, a string of disasters created by handyman Acey, and a disagreeable new neighbor, can Mabel solve another murder in time to save John’s detective license–if not his neck?

Click here to get your copy!

My Review

This is a fun cozy mystery featuring an older amateur sleuth. While not elderly, Mabel has all the characteristics of one. Because of that, we readers get to learn a bit about volunteering, such as for a search and rescue practice using dogs. Mabel is an entertaining heroine though she is a bit fragile for my taste. Her boyfriend is a keeper and makes a good co-investigator in the murder mystery.

The plot is complex and requires a lengthy denouement to explain all the details. I am not sure I understand how all the pieces worked together in the end. Nonetheless, this is a fun mystery with delightful leading characters and a couple of quirky supporting ones. While it is the second in a series, it reads well on it's own. Wright's writing style is easy to follow so this is a good mystery for older readers.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

 

About the Author

Susan Kimmel Wright began her life of mystery in childhood, with reading. That led to writing kids’ mysteries and eventually to Medicine Spring with Mabel. A longtime member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime, Susan’s also a prolific writer of personal experience stories, many for Chicken Soup for the Soul. She shares an 1875 farmhouse in southwestern PA with her husband, several dogs and cats, and an allegedly excessive stockpile of coffee and tea mugs.

 

More from Susan

I got stuck. When I was outlining my story for Mabel Goes to the Dogs, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. This isn’t unusual for me, or, I’m sure, many other authors. When it happens, I have to go search for inspiration—or at least, step away from my project for a bit and do something else till a fresh idea lands in my brain.

Luckily, I soon stumbled upon the Empty Frames podcast, which explored what was, at that time at least, the single largest property theft in the world—the 1990 art heist at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. Thieves impersonating police subdued the guards and over the course of the next eighty-one minutes methodically removed thirteen pieces of art then estimated at $200 million. That dollar valuation quickly escalated to between $500-600 million. The stolen artwork including paintings by Rembrandt, Vermeer, Degas, and Manet, was never recovered and remains the highest-value museum robbery in history.

The museum has offered a $10 million reward and never stopped trying to find its missing art. Thirty-four years later, empty picture frames still occupy the walls where the irreplaceable, stolen paintings once hung.

The story was engrossing, and I soon started down a rabbit hole, learning more about art theft and art-theft detectives, such as Charley Hill, the subject of the book The Rescue Artist. Sadly, it’s been estimated that nine out of ten stolen artworks will never be recovered. But Hill defied the odds in managing to retrieve Edvard Munch’s famous work, The Scream, brazenly stolen from the National Gallery in Oslo, Norway on the eve of the 1994 Winter Olympics in Lillehammer. The Rescue Artist tells the story of the theft, as well as Hill’s wild quest to locate and retrieve The Scream.

After I resurfaced from my own odyssey through Empty Frames and The Rescue Artist, I felt re-energized and ready to write again. Every time I write a book, I learn new things, which I like to share with my readers. I always hope they’ll find them as fascinating as I do!

Blog Stops

Babbling Becky L’s Book Impressions, October 26

Book Reviews From an Avid Reader, October 27

Simple Harvest Reads, October 28 (Author Interview)

Texas Book-aholic, October 29

Truth and Grace Homeschool Academy, October 30

Artistic Nobody, October 31 (Author Interview)

Blogging With Carol, October 31

She Lives To Read, November 1

Debbie’s Dusty Deliberations, November 2

Guild Master, November 3 (Author Interview)

Happily Managing a Household of Boys, November 4

Holly’s Book Corner, November 5

Fiction Book Lover, November 6 (Author Interview)

For Him and My Family, November 6

Locks, Hooks and Books, November 7

Vicky Sluiter, November 8 (Author Interview)

Giveaway

To celebrate her tour, Susan is giving away the grand prize of a $50 Amazon card and a signed copy of the book!!

Be sure to comment on the blog stops for extra entries into the giveaway! Click the link below to enter.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/00adcf5478/

I received a complimentary egalley of this book through Celebrate Lit. My comments are an independent and honest review. The rest of the copy of this post was provided by Celebrate Lit.

(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.