Upcoming release sample: INQUEST

Ye Olde Dragon Books

 Releasing March 1

“We have a … development,” M’kar reported, stepping onto the bridge less than half an hour after the Defender settled into orbit around Le’anka. She gestured at the forward viewscreen, where Anwesta slowly rotated in orbit, growing larger as the ship approached.

“Don’t tell me.” Genys looked around the bridge. “Granny got on board, despite the newest update to the drac-proof fence?”

“Exact opposite. Ask Axe where all the teacher dracs are.”

Battleaxe chirped and twisted her head, looking around the bridge. Genys would have liked to have laughed at her little black drac’s confusion, but that sort of worried her.

“She can’t find them.”

“On the ship,” M’kar said. “I can’t feel them anywhere on the ship. I sent out the call and got …” She shrugged. “Not exactly echoes, but this definite feeling I was shouting into an empty room.”

“They have to be on the station already. Probably teleported over as soon as we were close enough.” Decker stepped up to join them. Spitfire crooned and rubbed his cheek with her muzzle, then chirped in what certainly struck Genys as a relieved tone. “Did you get that?” His eyes narrowed and he twisted his head to look at his drac.

“An impression they’re gone and not coming back?” M’kar leaned on the arm of the command chair. “I reached out to the dracs on the station, and I get a strong impression of a cold shoulder, but with a lot of regret.” She snorted. “Granny is behind the effort to ignore us. Sour grapes, I say.”

“Please, Enlo …” Genys stopped herself there. She had the awful feeling that despite her best efforts, a wide grin was about to split her face.

“Well, I did get—” M’kar paused, her head cocked to one side, eyes narrowing, in what was clearly a listening pose. “Dulit’s contacting me through our dracs …” After a few seconds, she nodded. “It’s official. The kids are old enough to be on their own. No more overseers.”

“No more spies for Granny,” Decker added.

New release sample: BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER

 

Mt. Zion Ridge Press

Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!

“What in the world …” Cilla sat forward, resting her hands on the dashboard, as Melba navigated the corner onto their street, preparing to pull into the driveway of their duplex.

“What? Who’s—is that Heinrich?” Melba tapped the brake, but Heinrich and the young man he stomped after, up the driveway, stepped onto the sidewalk before she pulled in. Not that she would ever willingly hit Heinrich, or even tap him with the bumper, but she thought some honest fear might be good for the old curmudgeon. She swore he had been impossible to live with ever since Cilla turned him down in eleventh grade and went to the prom with Eddie McGillicutty.

“Is that David?”

Melba didn’t turn her head to look. She pulled into her usual parking spot in front of the garage, put the car into park, and turned off the ignition first. By the time she got the door open, Cilla was sliding out of the passenger seat. David walked down the driveway to meet them, alone. Heinrich wasn’t visible, out in front of the house, but Melba thought she heard his stomping, slapping footsteps and his grumbling voice as he headed back to his house three driveways down the street.

“Gee, I come over here enough times, you’d think the neighborhood watchdog would recognize me by now,” David greeted them, and grinned.

“He’s just being a good neighbor,” Cilla said. “You were walking around the house, weren’t you? Checking the doors and windows, like you always do?”

“Well, yeah. Gotta look out for you, y’know?” He shrugged. “I’d feel a lot better about you both if you’d let me install that home security system my company designed. Especially with all the weird stuff that’s been going on in town lately. Who’d ever have thought sleepy little Cadburn would have murders?”

“We appreciate your concern, but we’re fine.” She patted his hand. “Now, I’ll just bet you’re here to follow up on that message you left before. Not to worry. We got our investigator friend working on the problem. She says we’re well protected against Charlotte’s schemes, thanks to all the preparation we’ve been doing for our business.”

It's RELEASE DAY!

 It's a BOOK BIRTHDAY!

Newly released today!

BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER

Book & Mug Mysteries #3

Ready for another search for clues in Cadburn Township?

Ready for another visit to your favorite coffee shop and bookstore, Book & Mug?

BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER

When the Tweed cousins, Melba and Cilla, set out to open their candle shop, Brighten Your Corner, obstacles pop out of the woodwork. And from out of the walls and under the floor. Starting with an overbearing cousin who wants to take over, insisting the shop was her idea, a nasty former tenant with shady business associates, who insists the shop they now lease still belongs to him, and a family mystery tangled with rumors of a treasure hunt.

 

The cousins at Book & Mug consider the Tweeds family. Eden, Kai and Troy, with the help of Saundra and Rufus are determined to help them through the threats and contradictions and increasingly odd and frightening incidents that just don't make sense. The situation gets serious enough that even the help of mysterious, cynical Nick West, with his powerful connections, is more than welcome.

 Check it out today -- buy it today from Mt. Zion Ridge Press, or anywhere you prefer to shop online. It's waiting!

MUSIC IN THE NIGHT -- Excerpt

 

When her father fell from grace and his colleagues and superiors chose to believe the vicious rumors that shredded his reputation, peace of mind, and his health, Carmen had thought at first Boniface had been behind those false stories; especially when some of the ugly, unbelievable stories and accusations focused on her. Then he had showed up like an avenging angel, fighting to defend her father, mocking those who chose to believe the lies. Even with the taint of disgrace clinging to Carmen and Reverend Mackenzie, he had still wanted to marry her and take both of them away to a quiet life in a small congregation waiting for him. His anger had been tempered with sorrow when Carmen refused him again.

Now...

Carmen found she could breathe again when Boniface's blue-gray gaze slid off of hers and he turned to study the other side of the street.

"Nothing," he said, his voice colder than the rain.

"Are you sure you heard it?" the driver asked. In a moment, the steam-cart carried them both out of sight.

"You don't hear it, idiot. You feel it. In your bones."

"My bones are frozen."

Whatever Boniface said in response was hidden in the drumming rain, the splashing of the cart's wheels and the rumble-hiss of its engine as they continued down the street.

Carmen brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding her face in her knees as she shuddered. For just a moment, even as memories and hurt tumbled through her mind, she had been about to open her mouth and shout for him. What made her think that he could possibly be willing to rescue her?

"You are a fool, Carmen Mackenzie," she whispered. "Just as much a fool as coming here to this great, cruel city in the first place. What ever made you think your answers would be here?"

She knew the answer to that readily enough. When her mother was alive, Chicago had been an adventure. A place of wonders to explore, grand edifices to gawk at, and stores and concert halls and libraries. There was always time for something fascinating after the missionary society business had been attended to. Carmen had felt so sure that when she arrived in Chicago, her memories would guide her to friends of her mother, to people who could help her. 

Carmen remembered her mother going on errands in the city, always by herself, and once had asked her father who her mother had visited, what she had done. Reverend Mackenzie had responded that he didn't know. Anna had painful secrets in her past, and he trusted her when she asked him to never ask, because knowing could be dangerous.

Ready to be COZY?

 

COMING!

The new Book & Mug Mysteries adventure.

When the Tweed cousins, Melba and Cilla, set out to open their candle shop, Brighten Your Corner, obstacles pop out of the woodwork. And from out of the walls and under the floor. Starting with an overbearing cousin who wants to take over, insisting the shop was her idea, a nasty former tenant with shady business associates, who insists the shop they now lease still belongs to him, and a family mystery tangled with rumors of a treasure hunt.

COMING FEBRUARY 1 from Mt Zion Ridge Press.

In paper, ebook, and audiobook.

MUSIC IN THE NIGHT -- excerpt

 

Before she could brace herself to clutch the cross and rose again, the vibrations stopped and the warmth faded. The wooden sidewalk rippled like waves under her feet. A more deeply recessed doorway, offering better shelter, was only a dozen steps further down the side street. She needed to sit down, out of the rain, just for a few moments. Hunching her shoulders, Carmen staggered down the sidewalk, aiming for the darkness of the recessed doorway, praying it was dry and deep enough that she could hide from sight while she regained her balance.

A steam-cart trundled down the street from behind her, just as she stepped into the doorway. A whimper of gratitude escaped her clenched teeth. It was deep and wide enough she could have laid down in it, and kept her feet dry. She gratefully sank down into the corner on the right, well out of traffic, if anyone needed to come out of the door. Tugging her skirts down around her ankles, she raised her hand to press against the cross.

The steam-cart came into view, framed in the doorway. It was an open steam-cart, a newer model but without any kind of roof or covering on it. Carmen snorted her disdain for anyone who thought an open vehicle made any sense in Chicago, with its wind and seemingly constant rain. The man who drove it hunched his shoulders, and his eyes were lost in goggles gone white with steam or condensation. The other man in the cart stood up in the passenger section behind him, one hand braced on the seat back, the other on the man's shoulder, and turned his head, surveying the street.

Carmen paused with her hand just above the cross. She couldn't breathe. Just for a heartbeat, the man's gaze seemed to lock with hers. Despite the rain streaming from the flat planes of his chiseled features and darkening his golden hair, slicking it to his head, she recognized him. That flat, hard line of his mouth, she knew very well. It was the last expression she saw on his face before he walked out of her life. Those lips had been as hard as his voice when he castigated her for the choices she had made.

Just a few days before those angry words, he had smiled and spoke only sweet words. Why did she remember his displeasure more clearly? 

Richard Boniface. He had wanted to marry her, and when her father said no, he had insisted she should run away with him. Carmen couldn't break her father's heart, even if she had wanted Boniface more than life itself. Her father had raised her to consider every question and choice carefully. Carmen had trusted her father's ability to read people more than her own heart. If he didn't trust Richard as her husband, then neither could she. Richard’s fury only confirmed her father’s wisdom in saying no. How could she trust her heart to such a changeable man?

Coming January 15: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT -- Excerpt

 

Right now, all that mattered was surviving until spring, and saving enough money for one more attempt at a safe deposit box. By then, her enemies would have to assume she was dead or at least unable to harm them and give up looking for her. Time and patience and prayers would have to sustain her. Other than her mother's cross, that was all she had left.

Her largest difficulty was that she had tried to sell the cross three times, and each time the shopkeeper wanted the crystal rose that fit into the center of the cross as well. Carmen couldn't bring herself to agree to that. Her imaginary childhood friend, Essie, had showed up in her dreams weeks ago and told her not to sell the rose. While the advice of an imaginary friend couldn't exactly be taken as gospel truth, Carmen wanted to believe her. Just like she had believed with her mother's encouragement that Essie was a real girl when she was a child, she wanted to believe Essie spoke the truth now. She needed to hold onto that crystal rose, and not just because it was the last thing she possessed that had been her mother's.

So she needed to get the job as an assistant cook or dishwasher or whatever was available at the hotel just another block down the street. Mrs. Blomfield, her landlady, knew the right people to find out about jobs opening throughout the great, sprawling city of Chicago. The helpful, somewhat worn old woman had admitted that it would neither hurt nor help to offer her as a reference when Carmen applied for work. Then she had looked up at the sky with the gray, churning clouds moving in from over the lake, and bade her get to the hotel before the rain struck. If she looked like a drowned cat when she asked for work, a recommendation from the First Lady of the United States wouldn't be enough to get her a job.

For luck, Carmen had worn her mother's cross. She hadn't worn it since the dream that helped her make up her mind and flee before she lost everything. Seeing and speaking to Essie in her dream had been the first good thing that had happened to her since her father died. She needed that bit of luck or blessing or whatever one wished to call it.

Clutching the cross through the protective layers of inadequate shawl and jacket and shirtwaist, Carmen stepped under the overhang of a doorway on a side street. She tipped her head back and she closed her eyes and prayed. For good measure, she focused on Essie's face as she had last seen her imaginary friend, and called silently with all her force of will. Perhaps she wasn't being so fanciful, wishing that Essie would turn out to be an angel sent to guard and guide and advise her? 

The crystal rose warmed and vibrated through the wet layers of cloth. Carmen gasped and stepped back against the wall. She uncurled her fingers from the cross and tried to catch her breath. No, she was not imagining. The tiny spot where the back of the crystal rose touched her bare skin, under her shirt, was warm. The contrast with the icy rain soaking her clothes was far too clear to be her imagination. She hadn't warmed the cross and rose with her equally cold hand.