Deadly Gold Rush by Landis Wade Blog Tour Book Review

DEADLY GOLD RUSH

by Landis Wade

May 18 - June 26, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

THE INDIE RETIREMENT MYSTERY SERIES

 

Murder, mines, and missing millions—retirement just got interesting.

When a shady real estate developer is found murdered beneath Harriet Keaton’s family home—shot, stabbed, and surrounded by rare 1830s gold coins—her estranged twin brother Joey is the prime suspect. He insists he’s innocent...but won’t name the real culprit.

With Joey refusing to talk and millions missing from the retirement accounts, the future of the Independence Retirement Community is suddenly on the line. Now, whip-smart Harriet and her sleuthing partners—Craig Travail (savvy lawyer, reluctant romantic) and Yeager Alexander (conspiracy theorist, resident rabble-rouser)—must dig into the past to solve the crime.

Their best lead? A decades-old memoir from Harriet’s treasure-obsessed father and whispers of a long-lost gold hoard.

But treasure has a way of attracting trouble. As fortunes vanish and suspects multiply, the trio must untangle two decades of betrayal—before the killer strikes again.

Murder, mayhem, and the Carolina gold rush: welcome back to the Indie, where retirement is anything but quiet.

Praise for Deadly Gold Rush:

"Deadly Gold Rush is a satisfyingly complex entwining of events and personalities that proves hard to put down."
~ Midwest Book Review

"Deadly Gold Rush caught my attention from the first sentence and kept me transfixed to the very end. Couldn’t put it down."
~ Readers’ Favorite Reviews

"Lively mystery bubbling with unforgettable characters and historical spirit."
~ Booklife Reviews

"Mystery fans who love Richard Osman’s cozy Thursday Murder Club books will enjoy the similarly energetic take on mystery-loving retirees."
~ Kirkus Reviews

DEADLY GOLD RUSH Trailer:

My Review:

This mystery has a senior citizen atmosphere and is firmly set in historic Charlotte. Two plots weave around each other. One follows the accusation of murder against Joey, twin brother of a resident of the Indie retirement community. Another plot involves preventing the people in the community from being scammed and losing their homes.

The characters involved are quirky. They may be older but they have a ton of life left. I loved the idea of their community court. The residents manage to fulfill the requirements of the community bylaws about settling disputes with humor and fun, thanks to my favorite character, Yeager.

There is an informative Afterword on the history of the area with respect to gold. I also appreciate learning some about mining and the relevance of securing underground rights. This is an entertaining mystery with a bit of legal drama, a good dose of financial drama, very interesting characters, and information on Charlotte's history.

My rating: 4/5 stars. 

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Legal Thriller, Historical
Published by: Lystra Books & Literary Services, LLC
Publication Date: March 3, 2026
Number of Pages: 378 pages, Paperback
ISBN: 979-8992136357, Paperback
Series: The Indie Retirement Mystery Series, Book 2 | Each is a Standalone Mystery
Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

Death in the Passage

The narrow alleyway walls muffled the gunshot as uptown Charlotte slept. It was one thirty in the morning on Tuesday, April 1.

The phone call didn’t last long.

“It’s me,” the caller said. “I need your help.”

“I’m listening.”

“I have a body.”

“Whose?”

“Chance Landry.”

“Where are you?”

“Lincoln Street. Inside the Rivafinoli Passage in South End. Next to the Queen Charlotte mural.”

“Anyone with you?”

The caller explained who else was still there.

“You leave. Tell them to stay with the body and wait for my call. I need to think.”

Three minutes later, the call was made to the only living person remaining in the passage who could help.

“I am going to text you an address.” Next, they explained what to do with Landry’s body when they got to the address.

“Are you kidding? He’s already dead.”

But the person giving instructions had no sense of humor. “Just do it.”

A text message followed with the address.

The person who received the message knew how to follow directions and did as they were told.

Chapter Two

Vengeance is Sweet

The 11:15 p.m. email on Craig Travail’s phone read: Your friends are about to suffer financial ruin, untold heartbreak, and trials and tribulations. You have only yourself to blame.

What?

Travail read the email again, slower this time. He read it twice more. There was no author name. Just an unknown vengeanceissweet email address.

Travail exhaled. His email checking practice was a bad habit, a routine held over from his career when clients expected their lawyers to be available 24/7.

Nothing good ever came of his itch to scratch his email in-box for late-night messages, like now, when it would be twice as difficult to sleep after watching the late night local news—with its smorgasbord of crimes, collisions, and natural disasters—and reading this email.

One news story was about elder fraud, a reminder of how susceptible retirees are to financial fraud schemes. Was that what was coming for his friends at the Independence Retirement Community, which everyone called the Indie? Were the residents about to suffer financial ruin because of risky investments? If so, he’d be angry at the perpetrators for their heartless guile and frustrated with his friends for being so gullible.

The television show made the point, though, and he agreed, that adults spend most of their lives collecting assets to make retirement possible and the rest of their days worried if their accumulated treasure will last as long as they do, leading some retirees to make risky and uninformed choices with their nest eggs. Was that what his friends had done? Made bad choices with their money? Is that what the emailer taunted him about?

Travail’s instinct was to fire off a harsh response to the email with some choice lawyer-like words and warnings, but he ignored the bait—he suspected they wouldn’t respond anyway—and he punched the remote control instead.

The television screen faded to black, and his den fell silent, save for Blue’s rhythmic snores and his jerking legs. Travail’s black and tan coonhound must be dreaming, chasing ducks along the lake behind Travail’s cottage, as he was apt to do in real life, and as usual, failing to catch the waterfowl before they darted back into the water. Travail leaned over his club chair’s arm and let his free hand graze on Blue’s back until his pet stopped running in his sleep.

Maybe the email was a prank. Maybe, like him, a friend had become bored with life at the Indie. And yet, the email bothered him.

Whose lives—which friends’ lives—were about to be shattered? And how? And for that matter, why? And what did he have to do with it?

Since moving a year earlier into the Independence Retirement Community, Travail had made two best friends, Harriet Keaton and Yeager Alexander, and several other good friends. He’d met many other retirees, some whose company he tolerated and some whose company he could do without. Either way, he didn’t want to see anyone hurt. He certainly didn’t want his close friends to suffer, and he didn’t want to be the person responsible for their pain.

The flame on the candle he’d lit this morning was down to the base of the wick. He turned away from it, detesting the severe loneliness of March 31.

There was no logic for feeling so alone—what with all the crimes, court cases, and historic mysteries Harriet, Yeager, and he navigated since he arrived at the Indie and the time they spent together—but it was hard to control his feelings, especially the feeling of being by himself. A Jewish resident told him about the tradition of lighting a candle on the anniversary of a loved one’s death. It felt loving to strike the match in Rachael’s honor, but as day became night, Travail’s mood shifted. It had been three years to the day.

The flickering light had a strobe-like effect on the things that reminded him of Rachael: her furniture, her quilts, her artwork, her pictures. Travail missed Rachael’s kindness, her playfulness, her creativity, and the rituals they shared. The flicker made the past too present, making him long for another night and morning and day together. She was here, there, and everywhere, but nowhere at all.

Assertive is what he’d needed to be in the moment that changed everything. He and Rachael were in the mountains at a high-elevation rental for a getaway when a freak storm rolled in and dumped six inches of snow on the ground. Rachael decided to drive to the local general store to stock the pantry for their cozy weekend together. He had a work call and offered to go with her after he finished.

“It’s just snow,” she’d said.

“Okay, but be careful,” he’d responded.

“Always, dear.” Then she kissed him on the mouth, patted his bottom, and walked out of his life forever.

The news came in a phone call from the local police. First came the shock, then the grief, and then the Monday-morning quarterbacking. He should have insisted Rachael let him drive her. He should have done more to protect her. If he had, maybe she would still be here. Maybe the out-of-control delivery truck that hit the black ice would have killed him instead of her, or maybe Travail could have prevented the accident.

Spring in North Carolina was supposed to be about new beginnings, not endings, with the dogwoods and azaleas in bloom, but his eyes grew wet from the memories, and he felt a sudden heaviness in his body.

He looked at the email again and became resolute. For sure, he would not make the same mistake twice with the people he cared about. He would protect them.

But who was behind the email?

Whoever wanted sweet vengeance against his friends wanted vengeance against him too, because their pain would be his pain. The question for his lawyer brain—used to solving riddles for years—was: who despised them and him that much?

Like an unexpected electric shock, the answer startled him. This email was exactly the kind of plot his nemesis, Robert Elkin, would conjure. If Elkin hurt Harriet, Yeager, and his other close friends, he hurt Travail worse.

But wasn’t Elkin no longer a threat? They’d exposed his concealment of the truth about the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence, avoided death at the hands of his father, pushed him out of his Big Law leadership position, and seen to it that the state bar took his law license. Elkin no longer had big-time lawyer power. The only thing he had was anger, resentment, and a low-paying job as a paralegal with a former client, though Travail didn’t know the client’s name or their business. It was a sharp drop from the level of influence that had made the man dangerous, and yet, there was reason to be cautious. Elkin was cunning and would hold a grudge till death do they part.

Travail leaned his head back in his chair, looked up at the ceiling, and pondered the text again: financial ruin, untold heartbreak, and trials and tribulations.

Harriet was too smart to get caught up in a financial scam. Not so with Yeager. He was impulsive, likely to jump at the chance to possess something shiny because it might become shinier.

Travail pulled an olive-colored sweatshirt over his t-shirt, woke Blue, and took him into the backyard to do his business under the stars. While he waited, Travail glanced across Lost Cove Lake to Harriet’s cottage. He inhaled the fresh night air, and he marveled at the main building’s reflection on the lake’s surface. Harriet’s lights were out. She, an early riser, must be asleep.

Seeing Harriet’s peaceful cottage raised a question he’d been pondering. Should he ask her on a date? Carrie Roberts, the Indie Gossip Queen, thought so and often shared her opinion.

Most days, it seemed like the right decision not to ask Harriet—or anyone else, for that matter—on a date. Three years wasn’t that long, really, since Rachael died. And yet, here he was, caught in a web he’d spun for himself, trapped somewhere between what he no longer had and the companionship he wanted but resisted. Harriet was his friend. Should he keep it that way?

Harriet would most likely turn him down anyway. He was a project, and he knew it, starting with the lesson she’d had to teach him last year that retirement living is not life’s dead end but a fresh path forward. And now, with him being a sixty-six-year-old widower afraid to address his feelings, she’d be quick to beg off.

Blue finished up, and the two headed inside. His watch told him it was a new day. He blew out the dwindling flame on the candle and headed to his bedroom, where Blue was already curled up on the end of Travail’s queen-size bed. Wearing only striped boxers and a white cotton t-shirt, Travail pulled the covers up to his chin. With a good night’s sleep, he’d be fresh in the morning to put his effort into stopping Elkin. He still had his law license, after all, and as Yeager would tell him from time to time, “You ain’t dead yet.”

He closed his eyes and imagined tying a dry fly rig with two nymphs on a dropper line, the key to catching river trout on and below the surface at the same time. This falling-asleep system was better than counting backward from three hundred by threes. It worked its charm in less than five minutes.

Travail didn’t know when he dozed off that the murder train had left the station. He didn’t know when he began to snore that someone had already set the trap for his friends. And he didn’t know when he fell into a deep sleep that when the sun came up, he would ponder, and not for the first time, how he could have been so wrong to believe retirement living would ever be boring or lonely.

***

Excerpt from Deadly Gold Rush by Landis Wade. Copyright 2026 by Landis Wade. Reproduced with permission from Landis Wade. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Landis Wade is a recovering trial lawyer turned author who writes award-winning mysteries and legal thrillers with a historical bent. His publication credits include six works of fiction, eight non-fiction writing books, many short stories, and a podcast that produced 400 episodes of author interviews and writing discussions. His first novel in his Indie Retirement Mystery series, Deadly Declarations, won ten awards and Kirkus Reviews said of his second in the series, Deadly Gold Rush, that “Mystery fans who love Richard Osman’s cozy Thursday Murder Club books will enjoy the similarly energetic take on mystery-loving retirees.” Landis splits his time between Charlotte, Durham, and the North Carolina mountains. He is the recipient of the 2025 Founders Award for service to the Charlotte Writers Club and the literary community.

Catch Up With Landis Wade:

LandisWade.com
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BookBub - @LandisWade
Instagram - @landiswrites
Threads - @landiswrites
YouTube - @authorlandiswade
Facebook - @authorlandiswade

 

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(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

Entangled States by Karmela Padavic-Callaghan

About the Book:

A young queer millennial physicist unveils some of the most mind-bending physics concepts in the universe—and uses them to illuminate their own fascinating life story. 

“I see physics everywhere,” Karmela Padavic-Callaghan writes. “It offers itself to me when I try to make sense of all the paths my life did and did not take, it reassures me when I try to reconcile all the identities that I feel describe me.” Born in Croatia in 1991, Karmela grew up against the backdrop of the Yugoslav wars. They grew to love science and hair metal, and they began longing to see more of the world. At age 16, they received an offer to study at a boarding school in New York, setting them on a path to a physics PhD.

Now a science writer in New York, Karmela uses physics to meditate on building a life in a new country, on being nonbinary in a field dominated by cishet men, and on cause, effect, future, and destiny. Each chapter examines a moment in Karmela's life through the lens of a physics concept. Knot theory becomes a lens for the story of Karmela visiting a Croatian healer. Ultracold atom labs lead to a meditation on societal expectations that women be unfailingly warm and nurturing. And the workings of an electron microscope become a framework for Karmela's evolving relationship with cosmetics as they realized they are nonbinary.

Taking us from Croatia to New York, from quantum computing to Queen, Entangled States offers readers a unique and unforgettable journey—and shows how the world of physics and the world of humanity illuminate one another.

My Review:

This book is a combination memoir, commentary on quantum physics and thought provoking thoughts on life. Physics principles are related to life events. Entropy and music are contemplated side by side. Schrodinger's cat is compared to being both American and Croation and neither and as a nonbinary person.

This is a good book for readers interested in understanding physics a bit more as well as the path to gender identity.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

About the Author:

Karmela Padavic-Callaghan is a scientist, a journalist, and an educator based in New York City. A staff writer at New Scientist, they report on physics, materials science, and quantum technology. They hold a PhD in theoretical condensed matter physics and atomic, molecular and optical physics from the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. Their research has been published in peer-reviewed journals, including Physical Review Letters and New Journal of Physics. Their popular science writing has been featured in such publications as Wired, Scientific American, Aeon, Slate, and MIT Technology Review. Photo credit: Sylvie Tamar

Beacon Press, 246 pages.

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

(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

Jane Won't Quit by Eva Shaw Blog Tour Book Review

JANE WON'T QUIT

by Eva Shaw

May 11 - June 19, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

I’ll protect her—even if she hates me for it… until the day she actually needs saving.

Perfect for readers who love:

Dark conspiracy mysteries with emotional stakes

Romantic tension without overpowering the plot

Strong, unconventional heroines

Protective, duty-bound heroes

Stories where justice matters as much as love

Pastor Jane Angieski has never fit the mold—too outspoken for church politics, too compassionate to look the other way, and too stubborn to quit when lives are on the line.

When a high-profile scandal erupts inside a powerful Las Vegas mega church, Jane is pulled into an investigation far darker than corruption or infidelity. Behind the polished sermons and celebrity pastors lurks a brutal international trafficking ring—one that buys, sells, and returns unwanted children through a diabolical foreign adoption scheme.

Captain Frank Morales has spent his career protecting the city from monsters. He knows exactly how dangerous this case is—and exactly how reckless Jane is being by digging into it. The attraction between them is instant. The trust is nonexistent. And the closer Jane gets to the truth, the harder Frank has to fight to keep her alive… whether she wants protecting or not.

When a lost disabled child is found abandoned on the streets of Sin City, Jane and Frank are forced into an uneasy alliance.

Because this isn’t just one victim. It’s thousands.

To stop the operation, they’ll have to expose powerful men, corrupt ministries, and an international pipeline that treats children like merchandise. And someone is very willing to kill to keep it buried.

In a city built on secrets, faith and justice may not be enough to save them—but walking away isn’t an option.

Tropes include:

Law Enforcement x Civilian Investigator

Forced Partnership

Opposites Attract (Faith vs Procedure)

Slow Burn Romantic Suspense

“Stay Out of My Case” Dynamic

Protector Hero

JANE WON'T QUIT Trailer:

 

My Review:

This mystery might have the most unusual heroine I have even encountered. Jane is hard to describe. She has a heart of gold, I think, but gets into many odd situations. Jane self describes her superpower as jumping to conclusions and that leads to some humor and also trouble. She is described as an unconventional pastor and I agree. It took me a while to finally decide I liked her.

The mystery of the adoption scam is woven around the dire situation in the Las Vegas church. There are a number of people, including the senior pastor, who are part of the scandal. Many of the characters are not who they seem or who they should be. That results in some twists near the end as well as a good bit of action.

This novel was a surprise with its unconventional heroine and conspiracy solving action. It is a good novel for readers who like something a little out of the normal mystery style.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published by: Varus Publishing
Publication Date: March 12, 2026
Number of Pages: 393 pages, Paperback
ISBN: 9798249459451, Paperback
Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Varus Publishing

Read an excerpt from Jane Won't Quit:

Chapter 1

Place the blame where it should go: on chocolate. The good stuff. The variety that melts way too fast as you swirl it over your tongue and let it cuddle the inside of your mouth, knowing the sensation is fleeting, which makes it more delicious. Yeah, that’s the kind I’m talking about.

I opened the front door of my Vegas condo and instantly tried to slam it. Except, the man I faced handed me a golden, foil-wrapped box with the unmistakable Godiva logo.

He placed it in the palm of his right hand and extended his arm. Then he stepped back. With elegance and skill, he had baited the hook, and I was snagged. Just like that.

I’m fast and grab the box before he could pull away. Or maybe that was his plan all along. If it hadn’t been for the lure of delectable dark chocolate, I would have stayed happily ignorant about sex slaves, black-market babies, cheating preachers, and an assortment of lowlifes that suddenly intruded on my cluttered, frazzled life.

If only I’d slammed the door, I would never have been rejected, arrested, and nearly exterminated.

Wait, did you just say, “Back the truck up”? Sorry, writing a memoir is new to me, and I just got overly excited to tell you everything. Instead, I’m taking some deep yoga-style breaths and will give you the whole story, nothing but the truth, just like it happened.

You see, at the stroke of another scorching Las Vegas summer midnight, I found myself feeling the still sizzling breeze swirling around my sleep shorts and tank top—front door open, air conditioning spewing out into the neighborhood. I stood and sniffed the corners of the box, knowing full well the pleasures that were inside. Why was this guy on my doorstep? It was wrong. It was a moment, much later, I wanted to stop time—like you can while watching Netflix. Instead, I ripped open the box, placed a scrumptious piece of heaven-on-earth into my mouth and eyed up and down what the devil had dumped on my doorstep.

Medical studies have proven it’s a bad idea to let a woman with PMS eat a pound of Godiva at one time, or so some new report said. Trust me, however. It’s an even worse idea to try to take chocolate away from a woman, PMS or not.

Fortunately, this guy certainly knew women. So he waited. I gobbled three more. In a row. Then handed him back the two-thirds empty box. I’m not greedy, see?

Forget whatever you’re thinking. This man was not a hunka, hunka burning love, but seemed to be my pudgy grandfather. Or a doppelgänger dressed collar to cuffs in glitter galore, gold, and some gosh-awful alligator-esque cowboy boots. In blood red.

He squinted in the light of the front steps of my townhouse/condo combo, and his chin dragged low. He grumbled, muttered, and withdrew his left hand from behind his back, producing yet another box with the chocolatier’s signature wrapping. I told you he was good. I salivated, snatched it, and stepped out of the way. I’m not addicted to the stuff; I just like it a lot, a whole lot.

Okay, that gives you the abbreviated version of why, five minutes later, my disgruntled relative was huddled on the beige sofa in the sterile Las Vegas condo that came with my current job. It does not explain why I was stomping up and down in front of him, but I’ll get to that. You see, I’m usually the one who solves problems; that’s my field, being I’m a minister and all.

You heard it right. I might not look like any preacher you’ve ever met, being that I’m rounded in all the right places, and I prefer a flashier wardrobe than you may have seen on church ladies. Like it or not, that’s me, Pastor Jane Angieski. I’m ordained and licensed, overly educated and fully confused a good portion of the time. I’ve been told, by the governing board of my denomination, that I should be more professional. It’s taken a long time and therapy, but I like me as I am.

You’re not the first, you know, to wonder how a flashy gal like me got into the ministry business. Most folks do not come straight out and ask because they’re dumbfounded to find out I know the Good News backward, forward, and well done in the middle. My response when they sputter a question or raise both eyebrows to the ceiling? “You see. They have quotas. Recall affirmative action? The denomination needed more females who had curves and padding in their ranks. There were plenty of string bean ones.”

Honestly? Hold on to something sturdy:

When I returned to college to finish my master’s, I was working part-time in retail at Victoria’s Secret, then at a mortuary where I applied makeup to the dearly departed. I also gave out contraceptives and condoms at a free clinic in Watts, and did some hard time asking, “Do you want fries with that?” Along the way, I made enough to avoid incurring huge debt. Psychology was to be my field. I am outrageously curious about people. We humans are so weird, and I love it.

One steamy Los Angeles day, I attended a program on campus because the AC in my apartment was broken. I also knew that with luck there’d be cake and coffee. The program, as I found out, was to recruit grad students into the ministry. It was probably the sugar talking, but I signed on the dotted line and started that summer attending seminary. Graduated with honors, accepted an assistant minister gig straight out of the seminary doors and got kicked out because I volunteered to help the cops in tracking down hoods in the hood where I was the pastor in this ghetto church.

The church council didn’t mind that I nabbed the bad guys looking like a lady of the evening who could do it all night. What they didn’t like was that I appeared on the front of the L. A. Times in a hot pink leather miniskirt, strappy sandals that wound up to my knees and a blouse leaving little to the imagination of Great Aunt Tillie, or anyone else. The news story hit the floor running, and little old me was seen and talked about on PBS News Hour, CNN, Fox News, and then YouTube, and then it went viral. As if no one had seen a minister before. Go figure.

People magazine beseeched and besought me for an interview, full four pages of me, but better judgment kicked in. I turned it down after a call from a member of my denomination's district council put the brakes on that one. Besides I don’t always want to stay and play second fiddle in the church hierarchy. I do have some pride and ambition. I’d like to be known someday as an important voice in ministry, not one of those television evangelists with flapping eyelashes and hair like dear old Marge Simpson. No offense, Marge. It’s not a good look for either of us.

The metaphorical knuckle-wrapping, to me, was worth it. It resulted in the dealing, drugging, and pimping partners in crime who went off to a helping place in another area of California, clogging an overstuffed prison system even more. Not my problem there. I got a letter of commendation from LA’s mayor and my backside booted to Vegas. I wasn’t exactly demoted, but I was no longer a full pastor. These days, if I should burp without saying, “pardonnez-moi,” the council hears about it. In detail. Hence, the youth minister I’m filling in for left exact instructions on the requirements of my professional demeanor so that I wouldn’t lead any teens down a slope where a flashing sign reads: Beware: She’s Crazy and Dangerous.

Back to the man of the midnight hour littering my living room. His grumbling continued. Like waiting out a storm, I sat down next to the huddled mass of manhood whose name isn’t Woe Is Me, but Henry J. Angieski, Ph.D.—my grandfather who just happens to have an alternative personality, one of a classic rocker with the 70s band Slam Dunk. You may have heard of him when he was called Hank A. Yes, that’s Gramps. Although you wouldn’t recognize him. I didn’t.

Gramps is a “let’s get coffee” kind, friends with Sir Paul, Bruce, Mick and a lot more you can name, if you like the older stuff. In all of my thirty-five years, I’d never known him to be defeated, never seen him without a sly smile and a plan to take on the world.

Quick familial footnote: He and Gram couldn’t have children, and they knew it before they married. Gramps told me like this: “Uncle Sam really needed me and thought a tropical Asian trip might help me understand humanity better.”

Translation? It was 1965. He’d dropped out of grad school to find his musical mojo. He was drafted, surprise, surprise, and sent directly to Vietnam where horrible things were happening, like an unpopular and soul-crushing war. Did you wonder how I got into this mix?

Gramps said, “I found the son of my heart there, honey. The kid was always hanging around the barracks. He had red hair like your gorgeous gram and the most intense almond-shaped eyes I’d ever seen. He picked up English like it was nothing, and one day when I handed him a guitar, he started to play chords. He was six or seven, but he didn’t know his birthday and had forgotten his father’s name, if he'd ever known it. Mom died in childbirth, and the bio family shunned him. The other guys in my unit adopted him like a mascot.

“I was finishing my deployment when I got word that I’d been accepted into the music program at the University of Southern California. Your Uncle Sam thought I deserved to return to California because, with this chunk of shrapnel in my knee, I was pretty useless as a foot soldier, and I told everyone the kid was mine.”

That country was in shambles, already invaded by the French, English, and Russians before the US stepped into the mess. So Gramps returned to Gram with a ready-made son whom they adored.

Fast forward ten years. Gram died after a painful battle with cancer, and a couple of months later I came into the world. My father somehow neglected to tell Gramps there was a teenager in his life who was about to birth their baby, and it was a surprise all around when she showed up one day with me in a pink blanket.

Parenthood didn’t rock the Richter scale of life for this young couple. Gramps, once more, manned up, and he became the saving grace for me. The story goes that the twosome, my bio parents, piled their macrobiotic rice, pine nut smoothies, ceremonial drums, unfiltered carrot juice, and love beads inside a rusting, hand-painted purple VW bus, dotted with yellow daisies, and went in search of their bliss. I believe they were about ten years past the real hippies, but that didn’t seem to deter them. The last I heard, when I was sixteen, was that they were in Sedona, selling therapy rocks to tourists. I was happy for them; I had the best grandfather, the coolest Gramps in my school. However, getting a rock in the mail for one’s birthday stunk.

Enough about me. At least for a few minutes—unless it has to do with the reason I wrote this memoir, which is to explain why I ended up a viral sensation on YouTube. Again. Although the in-between stuff scared me silly.

Gramps interrupted my gallop down Memory Lane with a grunt that sounded suspiciously like he was swearing, which I knew he didn’t. Or the normal-ish grandfather I previously claimed didn’t swear.

“Call me Onesimus,” he growled.

“What-a-muss?”

“Get a clue, you’re a preacher. You know this stuff. Always spouting it off as you do all that Bible-belting.” Then he grumbled about how his granddaughter could easily become a pompous prig.

“I’ve never belted a Bible in my life, I’ll thank you.” And I wondered in a tiny spot in my heart if I should look up the definition of prig before I felt insulted.

“Don’t give me that look, girl. I’m immune. Been looking at myself too long for one of your freeze-frame frowns to frazzle me and make me spill my guts.”

“Are you talking Old Testament or New?”

“Look it up, Pastor.”

He never calls me, Pastor. Never before had he even raised his voice to me. “Who are you and what did you do with my grandfather?” I demanded. My now mostly-retired from sex, gals, and rock and roll, and teaching at the university, grandfather lived in the beachy town of Carlsbad, California. “It’s midnight, and my real grandfather is safety tucked in bed right now, not in Vegas, baby.”

We stared at each other, then a flickering two-watt bulb flipped on. “Are you talking about Onesimus, as in the slave the Apostle Paul wrote about?”

“Bing-a-ding ding, girl. Listen, Janey, I’m having a crisis, one that, well, is personal, as private as it can get for a man.”

From the dancing rhinestones embedded on his denim shirt, past the belt buckle the size of Rhode Island, and the boots which had three-inch heels, the man was either auditioning for a low-budget movie or had lost his marbles. My real grandfather was a rock star, wore a lot of black, dragged a guitar everywhere and didn’t dress like a cowboy. He was dependable, had style, sure, and a heart for the next gal and guy. Always.

Okay, there were some ladies of a certain age, groupies if I’m honest, who would have had their way with him, but Gramps was incredibly discreet about that stuff. Then again, I never had a conversation about the birds and the bees with him.

“Oh, personal and private,” I muttered, regretting my decision to have that second Lean Cuisine Mexican Medley. I did not ever, ever, want to discuss my grandfather’s sexual inadequacies or his performance issues, and the souring sensation in my stomach agreed. Big time.

Instead, I blurted, “Men your age are well past that. For Pete’s sake, don’t tell me you’re in Vegas to marry an 18-year-old, half-naked dancer who wears pink feathers that glow in the dark with matching pasties that barely cover her nipples. And that she’s just misunderstood and currently employed at a local strip joint because she’s putting herself through med school.”

He just took off a boot. There was no denial.

“She’s not some chorus babe, Jane. She has to be at least 18 or 19, however. Guess she could be 16 with a fake ID. I never asked.”

***

Excerpt from Jane Won't Quit by Eva Shaw. Copyright 2026 by Eva Shaw. Reproduced with permission from Eva Shaw. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Mystery writer Eva Shaw, Ph.D. is one of the US’s premier ghostwriters specializing in memoirs. She’s the author of more than 100 award-winning books. Eva has been a university writing instructor with for two decades, mentoring more than 50,000 writers in her remote-learning classes through Education to Go.

Novels with her byline include: Jane Won’t Quit (Vaus Publishing, March February 2026), The Beatrix Patterson Mystery Series from Torchflame Books (The Seer, The Finder, The Pursuer and The Conductor). Other novels include Games of the Heart and Doubts of the Heart.

She shares her life with Coco Rose, a rambunctious 7 year old Welsh terrier, loves reading, painting, traveling, spending time with friends and family, playing the banjolele, volunteering with her church, the American Cancer Society and other organizations. She lives in Carlsbad, California.

Catch Up With Eva Shaw:

www.evashaw.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram - @evashawwriter
Facebook - @evashawwriter

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

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JANE WON’T QUIT by Eva Shaw | Gift Cards

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I received a complimentary egalley of this book through Partners in Crime Book Tours. My comments are an independent review.

(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

The Brain Change Program by Dr. Alan Weissenbacher

About the Book:

Become the person God created you to be.

When we think of self-improvement, our minds often turn to dieting, exercise, or productivity hacks. But without understanding how the mind works, these improvements are unlikely to stick.

In The Brain Change Program, Dr. Alan Weissenbacher merges neuroscience with biblical wisdom and leads you through his six-step program to achieve lasting, meaningful change. He shares actionable, lifelong strategies and tools to help you

• unlock the mysteries of your brain,
• gain control over destructive thoughts and behaviors,
• redesign your prayer life,
• guide yourself into right thinking, and
• cultivate Christlike character.

Set foot on a radical journey of self-discovery, where joy, fulfillment, and spiritual transformation await.

My Review:

This is a very practical book for any Christian desiring to be more like Christ. Weissenbacher takes the mystery out of spiritual transformation. He combines spiritual principles with the latest discoveries in neuroscience. I like his information on willpower, triggers and roadblocks. He offers a very practical six step program including the use of imagination. I like how he says we all want the Paul change, instantaneous, but we often get the Jacob change, years. There are good chapter reviews included and reflection questions. I recommend this inspiring and practical book.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

About the Author:

Dr. Alan Weissenbacher served many years at the Denver Rescue Mission as a chaplain to homeless addicts, removing them from the urban setting and empowering them to run a farm while receiving counseling, spiritual care, and job training. His work with these clients inspires his research into neuroscience and spiritual formation, exploring ways to improve our spiritual lives, religious care, and addiction recovery through understanding how the brain works.

He is the author of the Brain Change Program, and he has published book chapters in works dealing with science, religion, and ethics with Vernon Press and ATF Press. He has also published the chapter on neuroscience and the human person in the second edition of the college textbook, "Science and Religion: A Historical Introduction" in addition to articles in the journals "Dialog," "Theology and Science," the "Wesleyan Theological Journal," and "Zygon."

He currently enjoys speaking at various churches and organizations about the brain and improving one’s spiritual life, is the managing editor of the journal "Theology and Science," a lecturer at Santa Clara University, and a father to 2 young children.

Broadstreet Publishing, 177 pages.

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

(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

A Brewed Awakening by Pepper Basham Audiobook Review

About the Book:

In the charming mountain town of Wisteria, North Carolina, Daphne Austen clings to tradition like cream to a scone. She's built her life--and her late grandmother's tearoom, Tea Thyme--around all things English: delicate china, Jane Austen novels, and the comforting predictability of routine. The only thing threatening her perfectly ordered world? The loud, aggravatingly handsome Brit opening a pub next door.

After his ex-wife broke his heart and his business partner nearly destroyed his career, Finn Dashwood packed up his six-year-old daughter and left England behind. He's looking for a fresh start, and the last thing he needs is a fussy, tea-obsessed neighbor criticizing his every pint and playlist. It doesn't matter that she's ridiculously kind (to everyone else) and that his daughter is utterly fascinated by her. Finn's heart is not open to being broken again.

But disagreements turn into prank wars and then a competition when a high-profile wedding needs a last-minute caterer. The townsfolk are thrilled--Wisteria hasn't seen this much excitement since the county fair lost a goat.

When the wedding demands both sweet and savory fare, Daphne and Finn are forced to put down their swords and pick up their serving trays. Between burnt pastries, brewing tempers, trending hashtags (#SipsAndSpats, anyone?), and one very adorable little girl, rivalry soon gives way to reluctant friendship--and maybe something that feels suspiciously like chemistry.

Can a tea shop princess and a pub owner with a past mix their lives as seamlessly as clotted cream and jam . . . or will their differences keep them steeped in rivalry forever?

My Review:

This is an entertaining romantic comedy, rivals to romance. There is a great deal of good food included as Finn and Daphne try to outdo each other. There is a spirit of competition as the two vie for the honor of catering an upcoming wedding. But, as Finn says, he moved from competition to a risk worth taking. There is a surprise near the end of this novel that solidifies the attraction between the two as well as the community feeling of the setting.

The narration in this audio book is done well. I love Ashman's British accent for Finn and Gideon's for Lucy. I am still surprised at the emphasis on the physical attraction in the romance novels from traditionally Christian publishers. They have come a long way from Grace Livingston Hill.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

About the Author:

Pepper Basham is a best-selling author who writes romance “peppered” with grace and humor. Writing both historical and contemporary novels, she loves to incorporate her native Appalachian culture and/or her unabashed adoration of the UK into her stories. She currently resides in the lovely mountains of Asheville, NC where she is the wife of a fantastic pastor, mom of five great kids, a speech-language pathologist, and a lover of chocolate, jazz, hats, and Jesus. Her twentieth book, The Cairo Curse, came out in February. Next up is Positively, Penelope, the sequel to her bestselling novel, Authentically, Izzy. She loves connecting with readers and other authors through social media outlets like Facebook & Instagram.

Thomas Nelson, 13 hours, 33 minutes.

I received a complimentary audiobook from the publisher. My comments are an independent review.

(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

Stolen Secrets by S F Baumgartner Blog Tour Book Review

About the Book

Book: Stolen Secrets: A Thriller (Mirror Estate Series Book 7)

Author: S.F. Baumgartner

Genre: Thriller with Christian elements

Release Date: June 2, 2026

An adopted daughter. A vanished teenager. A secret that must stay hidden.

FBI Special Agent Charlie O’Rourke believed adopting Jamie Beth would keep her safe. But when her best friend vanishes during a school band rehearsal, Charlie discovers the threat isn’t random.

As Jamie Beth desperately searches for answers about her best friend’s disappearance, she has no idea she’s next.

To save his daughter, Charlie must choose between protocol and survival.

Perfect for readers who love the layered conspiracies of Daniel Silva, the emotional stakes of NCIS, and the shadow-war tension of The Blacklist.

Click here to get your copy!

My Review

This novel is part of a series and is quite a way down the line. Baumgartner's writing style includes many characters and complex plots. This novel will be puzzling unless the previous ones are read first. Recaps of those novels are included at the beginning of this one, as is a diagram explaining the relationships of the many characters.

There is a good deal of action in this novel as there is an early kidnapping, setting the stage for a novel full of danger and suspense. I like that Jamie Beth is heavily involved in the action. Drama is being passed on to the next generation. But there are many secrets and hidden actions. Often prominent characters do not have the whole story of what is going on. Baumgartner writes well crafted suspenseful scenes and her characters continue to be fully fleshed out over time.

I like this series. It has complex plots and loads of characters. One needs to concentrate when reading to keep the many plot threads straight but it is worth the effort. And yes, there is at least one huge secret that still remains. I hope to read about in the next book.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my reviews of the earlier books in the series: Buried Secrets, Living Secrets, Forgotten Secret, Tangled Secrets, Hidden Secrets, and Shadowed Secret.

 

About the Author

S.F. Baumgartner crafts fast-paced Christian suspense thrillers, weaving tales of complex characters, secretive operatives, and relentless agents. Her gripping storytelling has earned acclaim, with Living Secrets and Forgotten Secret—Books 1 & 2 of her Mirror Estate series—named Top Picks in the thriller & suspense categories, respectively, at Killer Nashville, and Tangled Secrets—Book 3 of Mirror Estate series—won couple of awards in the Christian Indie Awards and the Incipere Awards. When she’s not plotting her next twist, she’s binge-watching crime TV shows, like NCIS or playing with her cats. Fans of James Patterson’s style, especially those who appreciate short, punchy chapters, will find much to love in her work.  And as always, her books are all clean.

 

More from S.F.

Stolen Secrets is the seventh book in the Mirror Estate series, and for me it represents something I didn’t fully realize when I started writing it: the beginning of the end of the Ghost arc.

When I began the series, I never mapped out a long, eight-book storyline for the Ghost. In fact, I didn’t even think about how long that arc might last until around Book 6, Shadowed Secret. That’s when it started becoming clear that the threads surrounding the Ghost, Dylan, and the larger conspiracy needed more room to unfold. Book 8 will wrap up the Ghost storyline, though the Mirror Estate series itself is far from over. There are still many stories left to tell.

One of the continuing mysteries involves Dylan and the buried treasures connected to Mirror Estate. Whether that storyline concludes in Book 8 or continues beyond it is something I’m still discovering as the story evolves.

Stolen Secrets also includes a bonus story titled “Shadow Extraction.” Writing that novelette was one of the hardest parts of the project. It features Olivia in the middle of a black-ops mission that unfolds at the end of her honeymoon in Italy. The emotional and operational stakes in that story made it especially challenging to write, but it also became one of my favorite parts of the book.

Another element I enjoyed writing in Stolen Secrets involves Jamie Beth and Owen. Watching those two characters work their way through danger and figure out how to escape was incredibly rewarding as a writer. Those scenes capture something I love about thrillers—the moment when characters must rely on their own courage and quick thinking to survive.

Looking back, Stolen Secrets feels like a turning point for the series. Secrets are beginning to surface, alliances are shifting, and the long game surrounding the Ghost is finally moving toward its conclusion.

But even as that arc approaches its end, the world of Mirror Estate still holds plenty of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Blog Stops

Book Reviews From an Avid Reader, June 1

The Lofty Pages, June 1

Simple Harvest Reads, June 2 (Author Interview)

Happily Managing a Household of Boys, June 3

Artistic Nobody, June 4 (Author Interview)

Babbling Becky L’s Book Impressions, June 5

Debbie’s Dusty Deliberations, June 6

For Him and My Family, June 7

Guild Master, June 8 (Author Interview)

Texas Book-aholic, June 9

Blogging With Carol, June 10

Fiction Book Lover, June 11 (Author Interview)

Mary Hake, June 11

Because I said so -adventures in parenting, June 12

The Bookish Ledger, June 13 (Author Interview)

Vicky Sluiter, June 14 (Author Interview)

Giveaway

    

To celebrate her tour, S.F. is giving away the grand prize of a $50 Amazon Gift Card and an eBook copy of the book!!

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

https://gleam.io/9cIN6/stolen-secrets-a-thriller-celebration-tour-giveaway

I received a complimentary egalley of this book. My comments are an independent review.

(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

The Drowning at Dyes Inlet by D D Black

About the Book:

In 1979, a florist's lifeless body surfaced in the serene waters of Dyes Inlet, an enchanting estuary connected to the vast Puget Sound. Although the murder was never solved, a sinister heart carved into the victim's back made the case unforgettable.

Forty-four years later, history repeats itself as not one, but two more victims are discovered within 48 hours, each bearing the exact same chilling carving in their flesh. The county's darkest mystery is about to be ripped wide open.

Enter Thomas Austin, a private investigator with a haunted past he's finally ready to leave behind. Called in to untangle the threads of one of the most disturbing cold cases in the state's history, Austin realizes quickly that nothing is as it seems.

To unravel the mystery, he must delve into the past and confront a chilling question: How long can love endure, and to what unimaginable lengths will one person go to preserve it?

My Review:

Thomas Austin is at work again to solve a mystery. This time a current murder appears to have roots in a past one. There is a new detective working with Austin. She is brash and irritating to start out with but I grew to really like her before the novel was over. I hope she is a regular part of further investigations. Austin is again distracted by information on his previous wife, murdered years ago. I am getting tired of that element of these books. Austin goes to New York at the end of this novel and I hope the next one, set in New York, will be the end of that part of Austin's life.

I like these mysteries, Black is good at writing them and they mostly take place in the Puget Sound area where I live. It is fun to read about action taking place in local areas.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

You can read my reviews of the previous books in this series: The Bones at Point No Point, The Shadows of Pike Place, The Fallen of Foulweather Bluff, The Horror at Murden Cove, and The Terror in the Emerald City.

About the Author:

D.D. Black writes crime fiction set in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. He is the author of the Thomas Austin Crime Thrillers and the FBI Task Force S.W.O.R.D. series. When he's not writing, he can be found strolling the beaches of the Pacific Northwest, cooking dinner for his wife, and throwing a ball for his corgi over and over and over. To learn more, check out my website, where you can join the VIP Reader Club for discounts, news, and more corgi photos than you ever knew you needed. You can find out more at https://ddblackauthor.com/ 

Independently published, 262 pages.

(My star ratings: 5-An exceptional book, 4-Better than average, relevant and liked by me, 3-It is average, 2-It is below average and not liked by me, 1-It is practically unreadable.)

The Pawn by John David Blog Tour Book Review

 

THE PAWN

by John David

May 11 - June 5, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

THE LEMASTER FILES

 

When TV reporter Pete Lemaster gets an after-hours call from a college friend, he doesn’t expect it to catapult him into another big story in his reporting career. Scott “Uncle Scotty” Wilkins—a globe-trotting, charismatic businessman—has been arrested at a Singapore airport with enough drugs to guarantee a life sentence.

The case explodes into an international spectacle. Viral images of Scotty charm the public, fuel conspiracy theories, and attract opportunists eager to profit from the scandal. For Pete, it’s personal—he owes the family a favor. But pursuing the truth could compromise his career.

Teaming up with police lieutenant Rebecca Dawes, Pete follows a trail that leads from glossy boardrooms to Singapore’s prisons. Every clue exposes another enemy: betrayed lovers, vengeful spouses, shady investors, and rivals with millions at stake.

But the closer Pete gets to uncovering who framed his friend, the more he realizes he may be the next pawn in a deadly game of deception.

If you enjoy journalist-sleuth mysteries like The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, you'll be hooked on The Lemaster Files!

Praise for The Pawn:

"The Pawn is a stellar sequel to The Bystander. I was zipped away on this zany and captivating narrative."
~ Leaf Bound Review

"The Pawn is the follow-up to this author’s first novel, The Bystander, featuring reporter Pete Lemaster. I loved the first book, and this one was no exception. The pacing, dialogue, and banter keep the reader engaged in the story. There were many times I did not want to put the book down."
~ Mystery Review Crew

"Fast-paced yet purposeful, The Pawn explores timely themes of media influence and the fragility of truth in the digital age... With a well-earned twist and confident storytelling, the novel is a sophisticated, gripping sequel that not only meets but surpasses expectations."
~ Steve, Best Thriller Books,

My Review:

This novel is a deep dive into the broadcasting world and the persistent investigations leading to a compelling newscast. The event needing investigation appears cut and dried on the surface but as Pete and Rebecca dig deeper, layers are peeled away and we see a complex crime unfold. There is no intense action, no suspenseful scenes, just methodical investigative work by a news reporter getting to the bottom of a potential misdeed of justice. I appreciate learning more about the justice system in Singapore, such as caning. It was also interesting to read about the reporters and the various attempts to one up each other, trying to capture a higher place in the reporting world. The novel also contains insights into illegal financial schemes involving real estate.

This is a good novel for readers who like a deep and methodical investigation into a complex crime. Pete is an honorable man and tenacious investigative reporter. I hope to read more of his investigations.

My rating: 4/5 stars.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Conspiracy Thriller
Published by: Tule Publishing
Publication Date: May 13, 2026
Number of Pages: 251
ISBN: 9781970840513 (ISBN10: 197084051X)

The Lemaster Files

Book 1 Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Audible | Goodreads | BookBub | Tule Publishing

Book 2 Amazon | Kindle | Audible | Goodreads | BookBub | Tule Publishing

Read an excerpt from The Pawn:

Chapter One

Jacksonville, Florida, USA
Thursday, 7 p.m. EST

THE PHONE STARTED to vibrate its way across the kitchen counter. I hated that. It shook when it went unanswered, bleating like a wounded sheep.

Pay attention to me. Answer me.

But it was my day off, and my phone had been set to DO NOT DISTURB. Yet it still rang. I was watching the NCAA basketball tournament, as was my right on my day off. My Florida Gators were struggling more than they should as the favorite in their first-round game. I had a little bit of money but mainly pride on the line.

Still bleating.

I read an article recently, saying members of Generation Z were now offended if you called unannounced. Text before you call, they so arrogantly professed. Make an appointment to hear any voice associated with the participation-trophy generation.

Being neither a Gen Zer nor a trophy, I didn’t know who was calling. Someone in my contact list had called in rapid succession, working around the do-not-bother-me setting. So, either something was up, or the spam callers had cracked another smartphone code.

I got up and went to the kitchen and to the phone. I wanted another beer anyway.

The name on the screen said Cole Nathan, one of my college buddies.

Not work. Thank you, basketball gods.

I was fully expecting we would immediately jump into a conversation about why our star player was launching three-pointers without anyone under the basket to rebound. The phenom had also seemingly forgotten how to pass.

I picked up the phone and just started talking, “Can you believe this guy? I mean, I know he’s gonna be in the NBA next year, but he’s like one step from half-court and letting it fly.”

“Pete, I’m not watching the game, sorry,” Cole said. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. “What’s going on?” “Uncle Scotty is in jail.”

“What?” I said. I had to think for a second. I had met Cole’s uncle a few times in college. We went out to bars with him. “What happened?”

“He got arrested yesterday at the airport in Singapore.” “You’re kidding. Shit. For what?”

“Drug possession.”

“Damn. That sucks. Singapore?” Questions were flowing through my head faster than I could articulate them. “Um, I don’t really know what to say, man. I can’t even remember Scotty doing drugs. It was usually fun, but it’s been years since you have even mentioned him. Did he have a problem?

And wait, Singapore?”

“He’s not a drug dealer, if that’s what you’re asking,” Cole said.

“I don’t know what I’m asking. Let’s start with what happened and what you know.”

“I’m not exactly sure what’s going on. We got a report they found drugs in his luggage when he was going to Singapore on business.”

“What kind of business?” I asked. Scott was always pretty slick.

“He works for a real estate fund. He’s been there before.

It’s a big mess,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Cole. It’s terrible. Do you need a referral for a lawyer? I can talk to my brother. I don’t think this is the kind of thing he does, but he knows a lot of other lawyers.”

“Well, he’s got a lawyer over there, and we’re talking to some guys here. But we think it might hit the news and be bad, and that’s why I thought about you.”

“Okay, Cole, you know I cover Jacksonville, right? Every once in a while, something crazy happens and I cover national news, but I’m not sure how I can help.”

“Uncle Scotty lives in Jacksonville,” Cole said.

“He does?” I said, putting down the not-yet-opened new beer and looking for a pen.

“Yes, he does.”

“Oh, okay, if a business guy from Jacksonville just got arrested in Singapore, I’m guessing our desk already knows about it. I don’t know who’s going to cover this or even if it’ll get assigned to somebody. Do you guys want the world to know about this? I mean, I can’t kill it if the desk is on it, but I might be able to help. What do you want?”

“Pete, we’re worried the world will think my uncle is a drug dealer. You know him. I don’t know what happened, but something is not right about this. It makes no sense. I need help figuring out what is going on. My uncle is rich. He has no reason to smuggle drugs.”

“Was he traveling alone?” I asked. “Did he ever get mar-ried?”

“My uncle, married? That’s a good one.” Cole said. “He was traveling alone, baching it like always.”

“Got it. Well, I was supposed to be off today to watch the game, but it looks like our Gators have this one under control.”

Famous last words.

The Gators were up eight with seven minutes left. “I will make some calls, see what I can find out, and call you back. Is this the best number?”

“Yes and thanks,” Cole said.

As I hung up, our star guard again launched a bomb from the mid-court logo, which clanged off the rim and bounced over the backboard. Not sure who was giving me more heartburn—the star player or Cole’s uncle.

I called the breaking news desk at WJAX-TV where I work as a general assignment reporter and sometimes investigative journalist. My friend and colleague Olivia Marquez, a breaking news digital journalist and all-around technology maven answered.

“I thought you were off,” she said.

“I am, but when did that ever stop me from bugging you?” I said. “Have you heard anything about a Florida businessman being arrested in Singapore on drug charges?”

“Is he from Jacksonville?” “He is.”

“I think I would have noticed that.” I could hear her typing, and I turned to take another look at the game.

A moment later, she found it. “Well, here’s something from the Associated Press about American executive Scott Wilkins arrested in Singapore, I guess yesterday.”

“That’s the one,” I said.

“But isn’t it already tomorrow over there, like a major difference, twelve hours ahead?”

There were several questions in there. Olivia had a su-premely quick brain. “Says he entered the country from a flight from San Francisco, and he originated in Orlando.”

“Gotcha. Well, he’s from Jacksonville.” “Do you know him?”

“Well, sort of. He’s my friend’s uncle. I met him when I was in college. We painted the town a few times, among other things. The family is freaking out.”

“Can’t blame them. What do you want me to do with this?”

“Do me a favor and just hold tight on it. I will call you back.”

Cole answered on the first ring. “Pete, what do you know?” he asked.

“It’s on the AP wire with his full name and that he’s an American businessman arrested in Singapore on drug charges. It’s short. The story is tagged Orlando because I guess he flew out of there. I’m guessing the story hasn’t gotten any traction because he’s not from Orlando and the time difference.”

“What do you mean about Orlando?”

“Stories come across the wire tagged with locations, kind of like keywords. In Jacksonville, we care about stories relevant to Jacksonville. In Orlando, they are looking for stories tagged to there. Doesn’t mean anything except it kind of gives you and your family some time to try to get ahead of it.”

“Okay, so it’s not all over the place?”

“Not yet. But it may not turn into anything because, you know, the news gods are fickle. Right now, Orlando news stations might be trying to confirm he is from Orlando, but they aren’t finding anything because he’s not. So the story is in limbo.”

“You are in a weird business, Lemaster,” Cole said with a sigh.

“Yes, I am. Listen, it’s up to you. It’s my day off. I can do nothing on this story and be fine with it, but I can’t prevent somebody else from covering it. If you want me to do something today, then you have a bit more control because, well, we’re buddies, and I’m gonna make sure it’s balanced. Honestly, we would probably start with a short item that this local guy was locked up in Singapore. If I get you on the record, confirming it and the basic info, then we can pull a short story together, maybe thirty seconds or so. Just a short item. We don’t have a lot. We would need to get a picture.” I paused. “Or I could watch the end of the game, and we can wait it out and talk tomorrow. It’s up to you.”

“My uncle has been locked in a fucking jail cell in Singa-pore for like the past two days, so whatever they’re doing now hasn’t gotten him out,” he said, somewhere between pissed off and distressed. “So I say let’s try to generate some support. We’ve got to maybe try to get the government to help us or somebody to help us.”

“I get it,” I said.

“Do you know what the penalties are for drug possession in Singapore, Pete?”

“I have no idea.”

“Google it. It’s scary. We need to do the story.”

“Okay, Cole. So, let me get this on the record and make it official. You are confirming that your uncle, business executive Scott Wilkins of Jacksonville, was arrested in Singapore on drug charges?”

“Yep, 100 percent. He lives in Ponte Vedra Beach.” “And you are saying he is being wrongfully detained?” I added, coaching-prodding in a way I technically should not do.

“Absolutely. Singapore has made a huge mistake, and we need the support of the US government to get him out. How does that sound?”

“That helps me. Do you have a picture of him?” “I will send you one.”

“Okay, I will let you know if I need anything else.” We hung up.

I called Olivia back.

“Hey, so is Rod there?” I asked.

Rod Kirby was the acting general manager of the station and my boss.

“Yeah, he’s in his office. Do you want to talk to him?” she said.

“No, not yet. Please do me a favor and take this down. I can confirm business executive Scott Wilkins of Ponte Vedra Beach has been detained on drug charges in Singapore. Looks like it happened two days ago. I’m trying to get you a picture. The family in the US is saying he has been wrongly detained, and they want the US government to intervene. Please take this to Rod and see what he wants to do with it.”

“Okay,” she said.

My phone chimed, and I opened a text message from Cole with an image attached, and there he was—Scott “Uncle Scotty” Wilkins—just as I remembered him. He had light brown hair just past collar length, with a little bit of gray in the temples, and steely blue eyes that accented high, chiseled cheekbones. In the photo, he had a light tan, a big smile, showcasing perfect teeth, and a day or two of manicured stubble. He looked like a model, straight off a billboard. He was wearing a casual linen long-sleeved shirt with a sweater pretzeled over his shoulders in a way no one ever wore—just people who were posing for pictures. He wore jeans and unfinished leather loafers, no socks. The perfect, eligible rich guy online dating photo.

“I just got his photo—sending it to you now,” I said.

I forwarded the image to her and a moment later heard her phone beep.

“Oh my god, he’s hot,” she said, giggling. “Is he single?” “Well, I don’t know, but he’s not available because he’s in jail in Singapore.”

“He’s ridiculously good-looking. Gotta share this with the girls in the office.”

“How about talking to Rod first?” I suggested, hoping to bring her back to earth.

“Yeah, I’m on it.”

“Thank you, Olivia.” I hung up and texted Cole that we were probably going to run an item with the photo, and I would stay in touch.

I turned the basketball tournament back on, watching my Gators advance to the next round, not knowing I had just lit a most unusual fuse.

***

Excerpt from The Pawn by John David. Copyright 2026 by John P David. Reproduced with permission from John P David. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

John David is a long-time public relations and crisis communications consultant, author of a non-fiction business book, and a corporate ghostwriter. His debut novel, The Bystander (The Lemaster Files Book 1), was longlisted for the BPA First Novel Award, was awarded as a finalist for the 2025 Storytrade Book Award for traditional mysteries, and was named to the shortlist for the 2025 Page Turner Award for mysteries and cozy mysteries. It was released by Tule Publishing in September of 2025. Though not a big joiner, he is a member of the International Thriller Writers Debut Author program. When not working or writing, he enjoys fishing, talking about politics, and following the Florida Gators. He and his beautiful wife Pamela live in Pinecrest, Florida.

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I received a complimentary egalley of this book through Partners in Crime Book Tours. My comments are an independent review.

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