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Archive for the ‘Mystery/Suspense’ Category

fdde2-55327_girl-writing_lgThe Bookstore Lady

“When the hunched over, balding pharmacist next door called out, “Good morning, Katie,” her hand flinched and her heart raced. It took her nearly a full minute to remember she’d been Katie Mullins for two months and she’d better answer before he got offended.

“Hi.” She nodded.

The drugstore opened at eight every morning and it was now quarter to ten. Must have been a slow morning if he had time to stand in the doorway with a large cup of coffee rather than hanging out behind the back counter. “You’d best convince Ray to get some air-conditioning for that store before your new books curl up and warp. It’s beyond me how he’s never lost half his books every summer.”

“Dust absorbs the humidity.” She smiled wryly. “I don’t think we can afford air-conditioning this year.”

“I know a guy who’ll give you a quote. He’s not bad looking once you get past the bug eyes and scars. I can call him, if you’d like.”

“Maybe some other time.” Like when hell froze over.

He waved and went back into the drugstore.

Katie drew in a deep breath. The air was fresh from last night’s rain and the hint of a breeze mussed her hair. In two months, the only thing to find her was the sunshine and a case of withdrawals that made renovations hell. Nate, bless his heart, had had more compassion while she fought “the flu” than any man she’d ever met.

She blew a strand of stray copper hair out of her mouth and jiggled the door lock. Another thing that needed to be fixed before winter. She should have done it during renovations, but it hadn’t seemed as important as books and workmen. Luckily, Nate worked cheap and she hadn’t had to dig into the money from Dunnsforth. The money was tucked up in a box in the backroom, fastened with half a roll of duct tape. She’d ask him to fix the lock when he delivered her order later.

The door opened with a groan. “It’s about time.”

Available at:

http://www.amazon.com/The-Bookstore-Lady-ebook/dp/B00DWKNGPQ/

Diane Bator

Website: http://penspaintsandpaper.com
Blog: http://dbator.blogspot.ca/

Tricia McGill follows with A Few Lines next week.

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The Abduction of Mary Rose
The teenage girl hurried along the darkening street, head down in a vain attempt to divert attention from herself as she headed for her bus stop, still over a block away. The car behind her was a soft growl in the still, warm air.  The day was fast fading, the sky a light mauve, only a sprinkling of stars yet. Soon it would be dark… Ignore them, she told herself. But it was impossible to do with the car following soAbductionCover200x300 close that the heat from the motor brushed her bare legs, like a monster’s breath.

Victoria Chatham follows me next week

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fdde2-55327_girl-writing_lg

At eight p.m., he drove to the camp. The dark skies overhead made it seem later than dusk. Just to make sure he covered his bases, he ran his Jeep off the road in a ravine deep enough to need a tow-truck to get out. By the time he reached her Craftsman house, he was soaked to the skin. Damn! He never thought a summer rain could be so freaking cold. A woman who fed the squirrels and birds would not turn her back on a stranded motorist. Would she?

He knocked on the door and waited. The air rumbled with a distant thunder. In the past decade, he had thought about her many times: The sad young girl with the magnificent eyes. So he wasn’t prepared for the woman who opened the door. Her eyes were that same bright blue, but the rest of her bore little resemblance to the skinny teenager in that hospital bed. Her hair had grown back and fell beAttalla-ChinaBlue-200x300low her shoulders in thick black waves. Denim jeans molded long legs and a fitted tee shirt revealed a hint of cleavage at the scoop neck. But her most striking feature was the rifle cradled in her arms.

Buy from Amazon

 

Check back on July 26 for a few lines from Hazel Statham.

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fdde2-55327_girl-writing_lgThis week enjoy a few lines from Books We Love author Jamie Hill’s novel, Family Honor.

He pulled a bigger knife from his pocket. “I know you’re gonna be whoever I want you to
be. I’m gonna call you ‘Mama’, and you’ll call me ‘Dickie’. If you don’t like it, our little game will end a lot sooner. It’ll be disappointing for me, but I can live with it.” He smiled. “Not sure you can.”

Family Honor by Jamie Hill
Available here:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00898JCXQ
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/family-honor-jamie-hill/1111519075
Find Jamie’s other titles here:
http://bookswelove.net/jamiehill.php

Come back next week for A Few Lines from BWL author A.M. Westerling.

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fdde2-55327_girl-writing_lgDeadly Consequences by Jude Pittman:

A shot rang out from the direction of the stables. Kelly leapt out of his chair, grabbed the gun out of his jacket pocket and slapped the screen door open.

“What the damn hell?” He yelled as he raced towards the brood barn, where Jake, alerted by the gunshot, stood in front of the closed doors barking like a beast gone rabid.

“Easy boy,” Kelly said, approaching the door with his weapon drawn. “Gilly, you okay in there?” Kelly reached the door and pulled the handle. It held fast. Someone had apparently locked it from inside.

“Gillian?” Kelly called in a voice laced with fear and Jake once again started his frantic barking.

“Okay. Stand down.” Kelly spoke to the dog, then placed his ear against the door and listened.

From inside came the sounds of sobbing.

“Gillian.” Kelly yelled again. “For God’s sake, open the door.”

http://www.amazon.com/Deadly-Consequences-Kelly-McWinter-ebook/dp/B008ZQTPK2/

Stop back next week for a few lines from Jamie Hill. 

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fdde2-55327_girl-writing_lgEXPOSURE, an erotic thriller

The back door, I discover, is unlocked. I’m one hundred percent certain I didn’t leave it that way. Carefully, keeping my body behind the door, I scan the yard. The light filtering from the kitchen windows is bright enough for me to see that there is no one in my little square of turf. It also shows me crushed tomato plants and bean vines torn from their trellises, clearly marking the intruder’s escape route.

At that point, my rage finally overwhelms my fear. I pour myself a finger of scotch and sit at the kitchen table, simmering in helpless anger and vowing some kind of revenge.

Then a horrible thought crosses my mind. Jimmy knew I would be out tonight. He was the only one who knew. Was it possible that he was involved in all this, somehow? Is it possible that smiling Jimmy might have betrayed me?

The balance shifts again. Shudders shake my body. Sitting alone under the fluorescent lights, gripping my drink, I am paralyzed by the realization that I don’t know who I can trust. If anyone.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BGTQS14

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fdde2-55327_girl-writing_lgThe Dark Series: The Color of Seven

He walked up to a little backwoods Alabama black Church. Seven Cedars Baptist. It stood right outside Seven Cedars, Alabama. He laughed. “Be you de sebbenth son of a sebbenth son, boy?” Well, maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Sounded good, though. He went inside to join the ongoing service. Within a month, he’d collected a group of ten or so of the black community’s finest young men. He met with them down by the banks of Seven Cedar Creek.

“My name be Cain,” he announced. “An’ my color be sebben.”

http://gailroughton.blogspot.com
http://bookswelove.net/roughton.php
https://www.facebook.com/GailRoughton

Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Gail+roughton
Barnes & Nobles
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Gail-Roughton?keyword=Gail+Roughton&store=book
Kobo:
http://www.kobobooks.com/search/search.html?q=Gail+Roughton

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