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Showing posts with label @partnersincrimetours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label @partnersincrimetours. Show all posts

Thursday, July 17, 2025

Guest Post- That Little Voice- by Richard Levine Author of Like Driftwwod On The Salish Sea: A Small Town Romance. (#contests- Enter to win an Amazon Gift Card)

Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I Levine Banner

LIKE DRIFTWOOD ON THE SALISH SEA

by Richard I Levine

July 14 - August 22, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I Levine

A story of undying love, forgiveness, and second chances...

When they met in the fourth grade, it was love at first sight for Mitchell Brody and Jessica Ramirez. He was the freckle-faced kid who stood up for her honor when he silenced the class bully who’d been teasing her because of her accent. She was the new kid whose family moved to San Juan Island, Washington, from San Juan, Puerto Rico, and whom Mitch had thought was the most beautiful girl in the world.

She was his salvation from a strict upbringing. He was her knight in shining armor who had always looked out for her. Through the many years of porch-swinging, cotton-candied summer nights, autumn harvest festivals, and hand-in-hand walks planning for the ideal life together, they were inseparable...until 9/11, when the real world interrupted their Rockwell-esque small town life, and Mitch had joined the Marine Corps.

This is not just the story of a wounded warrior finally coming home to search for the love, and the world he abandoned twenty years before. It is also the story of a man who is seeking forgiveness and a way to ease the pain caused by every bad decision he’d ever made. It’s the story of a woman who, with strength and determination, rose up from the ashes of a shattered dream; but who never gave up hope that her one true love would return to her. As she once told an old friend: “Even before we met all those years ago, we were destined to be together in this life, and we will be together again, because even today we’re connected in a way that’s very special, and he needs to know about it before one of us leaves this earth.”

Book Details:

 Genre: Romance, Literary Fiction

Published by: Indie
Publication Date: June 1, 2025
Number of Pages: 396
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

 

GUEST POST: 

That Little Voice

That little voice is always there. We all have one, maybe two. We simply need to acknowledge it exists and allow ourselves an open mind to hear its counsel. Trust me, I don’t have a multiple personality or dissociative identity disorder of any kind. At least I don’t think so. To be clear, I’m not poking fun at anyone who is coping with this condition. With that disclaimer out of the way, that little voice I am referring to is also known as our intuition. But what is it exactly? At the risk of seeming “out there”, or as my friend describes it; being connected to the woo woo world (and she is! but that’s another story), based upon so many past experiences I firmly believe my intuition is a connection between me and my spirit guides, or if you prefer, my guardian angels. They’re always with us—from our entry into this physical world at birth, to the time we are called back home. It’s that little voice that warns us that something isn’t right or makes the hairs on the back of our necks stand up. It is that funny feeling that convinces us to delay a trip, take a detour, or even think of a long-lost friend or relative right before they call. How many times have we had that happen and say “what a coincidence, I just thought of her yesterday!”

One afternoon many years ago I was in San Francisco hoping to reunite with a friend. It was spontaneous on my part because she didn’t know I was in town. I thought I’d surprise her. But this was long before cell phones, text messages, or even email. After several attempts to reach her from various phone booths and even going to her apartment, I’d given up hope. Feeling defeated as I drove away, that little voice kicked in. Instead of entering the freeway when the light had changed, I continued straight. At each subsequent intersection, I followed my gut—never second guessing a right or left turn. Eventually, I ended up at a local farmers market. I decided to check out the myriad of tables filled with fresh produce, juices, and other goods. Sure enough, there she was helping some friends sell their wares. We had lunch and spent a couple hours catching up before continuing on my way.

For me, that little voice is also present when I’m writing, be it the next novel or an op-ed piece. On several occasions, while driving and simultaneously deep in the imaginary world of a current book project, I’d arrived at my final destination without being able to recall any part of the drive. How did I not end up in a ditch on the side of the road? Please keep in mind that I don’t imbibe or do drugs. Although one time after driving home late at night through a torrent of rain and wind (it was a dark and windy night…), and not being able to recall most of that journey, a stiff drink would have been justified. Was one angel providing the crystal-clear imagery of my next chapter while another angel took the wheel and safely guided me home? To that end, I believe my guardian angels have collaborated with me when I am writing—from an idea that wakes me in the middle of the night, to when I’m searching for just the right phrase, or better yet, when I’ve finished several pages of dialogue between two or more characters, and then read what I couldn’t recall writing. Sure, my fingers were dancing all over the keyboard, but I am convinced that those characters, by way of that little voice (my guardian angels or spirit guides) dictated the direction, tone, and length of the conversation. As I button this up, they’re laughing right now because one of them just said they should receive equal billing on my book covers. What’s next, a percentage? :-)


 Read an excerpt:

1

Seattle, Autumn 2021

Mitch watched the I-5 traffic stream by like duty-bound ants marching in neat columns on their way to another conquest. He had wanted to open the window, covered with many months of dirt and grime, but it would have taken a half-dozen requisitions and just as many months before the maintenance department would have tended to it. He didn’t care about gaining a better view of the endless procession of late afternoon commuters; he was hoping to get a better view of the sun setting over the Olympic Mountains from the vantage point of the eleventh floor doctor’s office downtown.

Whether it was from an office building or from the decks of a ferry plying the waters of Puget Sound, it didn’t matter to him. Simply seeing the sun wash over the evergreens once again eased his anxiety faster than the strongest pharmaceutical he’d ever been prescribed. And over the course of the past few years, he’d been prescribed more pills for more reasons than he cared to count. But he wasn’t concerned about any of that now. He was focused on finally getting home.

At times, he questioned the life-altering choices he had made or the ghosts he had been avoiding for so long. At times, he even wondered why they had that much power over his better judgement, or if, in the end, he had avoided them at all.

It had been many years since he had last visited Seattle. The city seemed so foreign to him now. The places he enjoyed on his rare visits: a University District music store he had loved for their extensive inventory of compact discs, a Pioneer Square sports bar within walking distance of the football stadium, and a waterfront seafood restaurant he had listed among his favorite places, were all long gone. Except for the Space Needle, the skyline was not how he had remembered. A decade or more of gentrification that had given birth to a collection of glittering glass-on-steel architectural masterpieces, could only distantly hide the once-vibrant intersection of First Avenue and Pike Street. No longer decorated with flower baskets filled with a colorful bounty, or teaming with hungry buskers distracting eager tourists heading toward the Pike Place Market, this, as with other downtown boulevards once bursting with a vibrance representative of all the city had been known for, now seemed soulless. Empty paper coffee cups danced across the pavement like tumbleweeds, while lifeless eyes peered from wind-tattered tents that shared the sidewalks with empty storefronts and growing mounds of trash. Save for a recollection of a few clandestine excursions, Mitch no longer had any interest in this place. He wanted to conclude his business and be on his way back to a world that was also nothing more than a distant memory: a world filled with blackberry, apple, and pumpkin pies cooling on windowsills in the warmth of a late summer morning, the Memorial Day parades led by a high school band, the volunteer fire department, and a collection of potbellied members from the local VFW, and the potpourri of Fourth of July barbecues, sack races, and firework displays lighting up the skies over a Rockwell-esque Friday Harbor. It was a place he had wrapped around his insecurities as if it were a goose-down comforter used to keep warm during a snow-driven winter storm, and it was the place he had avoided. Maybe going back and facing the ghosts of his past would be more painful and life-threatening than the physical wounds and emotional scars he’d sustained during his multiple tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet here he was, as if a few more tests and one more opinion might have produced the silver bullet that would have magically reversed every bad decision he made over the past twenty years during a self-inflicted exile.

For the tenth time in as many minutes, he glanced at his watch, then up at the wall clock for confirmation. He’s late again, he thought before becoming aware of the clock’s relentless ticking and noticing the long shadows cast upon the opposite wall. To him, those shadows resembled a life slipping away—a life he felt no more able to grasp and hold on to no more than he could grab and hold on to any one of those shadows—and it abruptly reminded him of one of the last times he saw Alex.

* * *

Iraq 2004

“Is that who I think it is?”

Mitch reflexively cringed then turned toward the sound of the familiar voice. “Alex! I mean, Captain,” he quickly corrected himself, in front of the squad of men in his charge.

“Holy cow, Mitch, what the hell! What brings you to Baghdad?”

“Besides an all-expense paid luxury vacation, courtesy of Uncle Sam?” He forced a smile, then dismissed his men before continuing. “My unit was moved over here in oh-three from Afghanistan…for the invasion. We’ve been doing a lot of probing for, you know,” he lowered his voice, “retaking Fallujah. I don’t suppose you have anything to do with planning that, sir?”

Alex surveyed his immediate surroundings before responding. “No one’s within earshot now. Even if they were, you can drop the captain and the sir nonsense.”

“I’ll take that as a yes…sir.”

“C’mon, Mitch, let’s not do this here.”

“Fair enough, Alex. You were saying.”

“I pulled a few strings to get some of the best recon units for a little fun I’ve got planned before we launch the main operation. And yes,” he winked and attempted a little levity, “I even asked for you.”

“Very funny. Let it be known that even over here, you’re trying to get me to do your heavy lifting. When are you ever gonna admit that if it wasn’t for my size, speed, and blocking ability, you would’ve never scored all those touchdowns in high school?”

“That was you?” He smirked. “I did pretty well in college without you by the way.”

“Yes, I’ve heard…constantly. No offers from the pros, huh?”

“I had more important business to attend to.” Alex patted his sidearm.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that too.”

“What, you think you’re the only patriot?”

“So, that’s what you call it!”

“Mitch, please. There’s a lot you need to know. There’s a lot we really need to discuss. Not here, though. This isn’t the time or the place.”

“I’ll give you that. So, moving right along, when did you get here?”

“I’ve been in country for about two months now.”

Mitch smiled. “That’s hardly enough time to get your utilities dirty.”

Alex ignored the dig. “Truth be told, it seems like I’ve been here forever. Anyway, I’ve been here long enough to have that kid over there waiting to do errands for me every day.” He laughed and pointed to a ten-year-old Iraqi boy waiting nervously at his tent. “Showed up one day outta nowhere and now he’s like my shadow. You’ve been up to your neck in this for how long now?”

“Since summer of oh-two. Afghanistan and now here. So, who is this kid, like your food taster or your house boy?” He studied the child with suspicion.

“Food taster?” Alex laughed. “He cleans up the tent, does my laundry…provides a little intel now and then. I pay him in MREs, which I’m sure he sells on the black market.”

“Smart little guy. Just don’t eat anything he brings you,” Mitch warned. “I don’t trust the locals.”

“You don’t trust anyone, especially me.”

“Well, it’s not as if you didn’t earn it.”

“I guess in your mind, at least until we have a chance to talk, I deserve that.”

“You do, but I’m serious about not trusting the locals, Alex. You never know who’s an insurgent or who’s been compromised.”

“Don’t worry, I checked him out. He’s a good kid.”

“Famous last words. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Well, anyway, you’re an intelligence officer, so I guess you know what you’re doing. After all, you made it through ROTC and all that other fancy training with your boyish good looks intact. I’ll bet the folks back home are proud of you as you rise through the ranks like a rocket.”

“Jealous?”

“Not one bit.” Mitch said defensively.

“Keep this to yourself…the real damage is on the inside.” Alex pointed to his head.

“I had heard that about you intel officers.”

“And look at you! Three stripes! That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would, Marine. At the rate you’re going—”

“Not me, brother. Except for burn-pit duty and having to get all those booster shots, I was happy just being a grunt. Only now I’ve got responsibilities like leading a squad on patrols. And on top of everything, I’ve got these guys who are just a couple years younger than us calling me ‘Pops,’ of all things.”

“Burn-pit duty, huh? I didn’t know they gave out Purple Hearts for sucking down toxic smoke. Does that stuff really get you stoned?”

“I almost wish it did. Sometimes that stuff made me puke up my guts like there was no tomorrow. I should’ve gotten those medals for that instead of playing dodgeball with bullets.”

“Yeah, I’m told everybody heard about that…front page of the paper back home.”

“Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.”

Again, Alex ignored the dig. “Next time you should duck and dodge a little faster.”

“Honestly, it was nothing. A couple grazed me, is all. Here...” He pointed. “Here, and over here. It’s no big deal. Anyway, how’d you hear about it?”

“It was in Jess’s last letter. She included the article. I hear you two have been corresponding.” Alex said, then looked for a reaction from Mitch. There was none.

“She wrote once. It was the first time I had heard from her since…anyway, she didn’t have much to say other than you were on your way over here. She asked if I could keep an eye out for you. It was only right that I respond. I told her I would. Nothing more.”

“That’s all anyone could expect.”

“Uh huh…by the way, how’s your little boy? Mateo, isn’t it? He must be getting big.”

“Like I said, we’ll talk…anyway, Mitch, I had already read up on your exploits.”

“You’ve been reviewing my personnel file? If I didn’t know any better, Alex, I’d say you really do have something planned and you’re gonna want me to carry it out for you.”

* * *

Doctor Lenkovich’s Office
The Present

“Did you hear me, Mitch? Mitch? Master Gunnery Sergeant Brody?”

Startled, Mitch hadn’t heard the doctor enter the room. “Sorry, doc, it’s been a long day…it’s been a long week.”

“Not a problem.” The doctor took a seat. “When I came in, you were talking to yourself. Can I ask what you were thinking about?”

“Nothing really…actually, that’s not true. I was thinking about everything you guys put me through the past couple months. Not just you or this place, but you know, all the tests, the paperwork, going through the process. I was thinking about getting out of here and finally getting back home.”

“How long has it been?”

“Far too long. I would’ve been there several weeks ago if I hadn’t been detoured to Bethesda and then Pendleton before ending up here.”

“You do know it was a suggestion to come here, right? A strong suggestion, perhaps, but it wasn’t an order. After all, your retirement came through and you were discharged. Don’t forget, you’re a civilian now, and I think it’s important for you to get established with a doc. It just makes sense, considering.”

“I know. Everybody here keeps reminding me. Did I tell you it wasn’t my choice to retire?”

“No, you didn’t. Was separating hard for you?” the doctor asked.

“Nah. I’ve had more than my share. It was time…I’m just trying to get used to it…” Mitch trailed off as the wall shadows once again stole his thoughts.

“Anyway,” Doctor Lenkovich said, “it’s just the corps’ way of taking care of one of its highly decorated heroes.”

“By forcing me out?” He snapped back as the flip of a light switch washed away the distraction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…anyway, I don’t think of myself as a hero.”

“Forcing you out? Come on, it’s a medical discharge. What choice did they have? Anyway, you’ll be happy to know they finally sent the rest of your medical records. You’d think that after all these years I’d be used to the red tape and inefficiency that’s inherent…I’m rambling, sorry. All those tests we ended up duplicating since you arrived here…let’s just say, in case there was any doubt…well, let’s just think of the whole thing as one more confirmation. Which is what you wanted, and what you rightfully deserved. I hope the past week with us hadn’t been an inconvenience.”

“An inconvenience?” He chuckled. “From being constantly poked and prodded, or having the unwanted attention because I’m some highly decorated…?”

“Both. Are you saying you didn’t want all that special attention?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the above-and-beyond from you and the staff. Even got a couple of names and numbers of some very nice nurses. Even so, I’ve never been one for medals, parades, accolades, etcetera. No, not me. That was Alex’s thing. In all honesty, I hate the attention. It’s embarrassing and it makes me uncomfortable. Especially when so many others here don’t get half of what they deserve.”

Their eyes locked in an uncomfortable moment of silence.

“Luckily for you,” Doctor Lenkovich continued while jotting Alex’s name in Mitch’s chart, “there may be one more parade and then you can pack the uniforms, the medals, and hopefully the bad memories, and put them all into mothballs.”

“What?” Mitch looked confused.

“Mothballs…I guess people don’t use those anymore.”

“I know what mothballs are. What parade?” Mitch asked. “Whaddya talking about?”

“Didn’t anyone from your hometown contact you?”

“I didn’t tell anybody I was coming…well, that’s not totally true. I left a voicemail for one guy to meet me, but he knows not to say anything to anyone. So, I’m in the dark here, Doc.”

“Hold on a sec.” He skimmed through Mitch’s file. “Where’s that note? Here it is. Someone from the San Juan Island VFW post contacted the Pendleton base commander right after the news ran a story on you.”

“Recently?”

“Several weeks back. They mentioned that you were coming home and that you were being considered for the Congressional Medal. Is that true?”

“It’s news to me.”

“Anyway, they want to throw you a homecoming parade…wanted to do it the day you got back there. So, I guess that’s why this guy wanted a heads up on an exact day. I’ve got a number right here. Do you want to call them?”

“No…no, I can’t.” He shook his head. “And they can’t do anything if they don’t know when I’m coming. They don’t know I’m coming, right? You didn’t call them?”

“Why would I? It’s not my responsibility. Although if you ask me, a welcome home like that might be good for you.”

“It’s been a long twenty years, Doc, and I’m tired in more ways than one. I don’t want the attention. And before you ask, I don’t wanna talk about why, and I don’t wanna talk to the shrink about it. I’ve talked to enough shrinks. Hell, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Understood.” He continued to flip through the chart, stopping to review one page. “Mitch, if I may…I’m still curious. I suspect you weren’t thinking about home just now when I walked in because I overheard some of what you were saying. The duty nurse told me you had another restless night. You were talking in your sleep again. What were you really thinking about? If not home, then what? Who? Your friend?”

“My friend?”

“Alex? You’ve mentioned him a number of times.”

“Who, Alex? My friend? He wasn’t my…no, I wasn’t thinking about him.” Remembering the shadows, Mitch stared back at the wall. “Why?”

“Because I’m told you’ve had conversations with him, with this ‘Alex,’ when you’re alone, and you’ve yelled out his name in your sleep more than a few times, and…and I’m told one night it was as if you were trying to warn him about something. Mitch, I heard you mumble his name just now when I walked into the room. It’s okay to admit you were thinking about him.”

“Just as long as I don’t think he’s sitting right here?” Mitch winked and smiled at the empty chair next to him to see the doctor’s reaction.

“I did see that in your file too. It says here you’ve been told PTSD manifests in many ways. I do know from experience with other patients, any deep-seated guilt over the death of a friend can make a person believe the deceased continues to hang around. So, tell me,” the doctor looked up from the file, “has that been happening? Are you seeing him? Talking to him? You can tell me.”

“I was only joking, Doc…no, it hasn’t happened, and it never did happen, and it’s not happening now, so, I don’t know what the duty nurse thought she heard. And for the record, I was joking with the doc at Bethesda too. That was my mistake. She was one of those uptight types. I was only trying to give her a rise, lighten the mood. I can’t believe she put that in my chart.”

“A couple of times. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. If you say it didn’t happen—”

“It didn’t!”

“I’ll make a note of that. Okay, moving right along...”

“Yes, let’s. About those last few tests…you said there’s nothing new to report, right?” Mitch asked.

“Do you have anything new to report to me? Headaches the same?”

“No better, no worse.”

“Any more episodes of nausea?”

“Just the one time this past week. I think it was from the sausages. They smelled a little funny, now that I think of it. I actually thought I saw one move. Other than that, the food here is pretty decent.”

“You’re joking, of course, yes?” Lenkovich asked

“About it being pretty decent?”

“Moving on…any confusion? Memory loss?”

“No confusion. However, I do have some memories I’d like to get rid of.”

“Any visual disturbances, slurring of speech, issues with balance or muscle weakness?”

“No, no, no, and no.” Mitch said.

“Okay, then. The latest tests show everything’s the same: the blood work, the scans, your sense of humor, no changes…for now, anyway. However, if you start to notice anything different, like if you actually become funny, you let me know.”

“So…then…we’re all good, right? We’re all done then.”

“Mitch, we could do more here, you know? The rate that this thing…it’s unpredictable. There’s a procedure we can do, it’s relatively new and—”

“I know, Doc, you’ve told me already. I’m not interested, sorry.”

“Look, I can arrange—”

“Thanks, but I think we’re all done here. Trust me, I’ll continue to take all my meds as directed, I’ll call when I need refills. I’ll call you if anything changes, I promise.”

“In that case, please do me a favor? After you get home, after you get unpacked and settled in, had some time to yourself, looked up old friends, I’d like to have you come back here in a couple months and—”

He shook his head. “Not gonna happen. I’m really not interested.”

“Listen Mitch—”

“Please, Doc, I’m finished listening. It’s nothing against you. You’ve actually been the most understanding, the easiest person to work with. I just don’t wanna do any more...I can’t do any more. All my years in the Corps I’ve had people telling me how to live my life, when to get out of bed, when to eat, who and how many to kill, I’m finished with all of it. I’ve got a small farm and a small hardware store waiting for me up on San Juan Island. For far too long now, I’ve been…I’ve been dreaming about waking up to a rooster’s cry, frying up bacon and some fresh-laid eggs in a cast iron skillet for breakfast, and topping off my coffee with warm milk straight from the teat before heading in to town to help some poor do-it-yourselfer find an odd sized doohickey for his hot water heater; all the things I detested growing up, which I’ve been missing for more days than I can count. I wanna get my hair cut at Freddie’s barbershop on Spring Street, where old men in suspenders still read newspapers, smoke cigars, and solve the world’s problems over a game of checkers.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Wanna know what’s really wonderful? Sitting by the big stone fireplace in Jentzen’s Café on a winter afternoon, drinking Irish coffee with a hunk of hot beer bread slathered in strawberry jam. And all the while, breathing in the heavy scent of fresh cut spruce and fir draped all across the windows as snow flurries dust the sidewalks and people rush by to get their Christmas packages to the post office before closing time. Now, that’s wonderful.”

“It sounds like a wonderful life in Bedford Falls.” Doctor Lenkovich quipped in his best George Bailey imitation.

“What?”

“Bedford Falls? It’s a Wonderful Life? The movie…never mind. It sounds like a wonderful life, Mitch, and I can see I’ll have a hard time convincing you to come back here for any follow-ups.”

“I was away for a long time, a lifetime, and now time is my enemy. So, once I set foot off that ferry I am not coming back to Seattle.”

***

Excerpt from Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I Levine. Copyright 2025 by Richard I Levine. Reproduced with permission from Richard I Levine. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:
Richard I Levine

Richard I Levine is a native New Yorker raised in the shadows of Yankee Stadium. After dabbling in several occupations and a one-year coast-to-coast wanderlust trip, This one-time auxiliary police officer, volunteer fireman, bartender, and store manager returned to school to become a chiropractor. A twenty-five-year cancer survivor, he’s a strong advocate for the natural healing arts.

In 2006 he wrote, produced, and was on-air personality of The Dr. Rich Levine Show on Seattle’s KKNW 1150AM and after a twenty-five-year chiropractic practice in Bellevue, Washington, he closed up shop at the end of 2016 and moved to Oahu to pursue a dream of acting and being on Hawaii 5-O.

While briefly working as a ghostwriter/community liaison for a Honolulu City Councilmember, a Hawaii State Senator, and volunteering as an advisory board member of USVETS Barbers Point, he appeared as a background actor in over twenty-seven 5-Os, Magnum P.I.s, NCIS-Hawaii, and several Hallmark movies. In 2020, he had a co-star role in the third season episode of Magnum PI called “Easy Money.”

While he no longer lives in Hawaii, he says he will always cherish and be grateful for those seven years and all the wonderful people he’s met. His 5th novel, To Catch the Setting Sun, was inspired by his time in Hawaii. Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea is Levine’s first foray into the romance genre.

Catch Up With Richard I Levine:

www.DocRichLevine.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @rlevinedc
Instagram - @rlevinedc
Threads - @rlevinedc
Facebook - @RichardLevineAuthor

 

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Thursday, June 5, 2025

Review of Muzzle the Black Dog by Mike Cobb (#contests- enter to win An Amazon Gift Card-@partnersincrimetours,)

MUZZLE THE BLACK DOG

by Mike Cobb

May 12 - June 6, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

 Synopsis:

Muzzle the Black Dog by Mike Cobb

After a mysterious stranger appears at his isolated cabin door, Jack’s life is forever changed. The stranger’s cryptic message sets off a chain of events that lead Jack on a harrowing journey to uncover the true meaning of his own existence.

As a series of unexplained fires threaten to consume everything he holds dear, Jack is forced to confront his deepest fears and question everything he thought he knew about himself.

Set in the aftermath of the Centennial Olympic Park bombing, Jack’s search for the truth takes him to the edge of sanity and puts him on a collision course with a dark and powerful force that has been lurking in the shadows.

Join Jack on a gripping and thought-provoking quest for answers in this thrilling and suspenseful tale of self-discovery and redemption.

Book Details:

Genre: Crime, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction
Published by: Waterside Productions
Publication Date: April 15, 2025
Number of Pages: 184
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

 MY THOUGHTS:

"Muzzle the Black Dog" is a novel filled with secrets, suspense, confusion, and multiple timelines that draw readers into the story. The main character, Jack, is visited by a mysterious man who seems to know his life history and name. This enigmatic figure reappears throughout the narrative, adding to the confusion and leading me to question whether he is real or just a hallucination. Jack had a troubled past that led him to depression and hardship. Initially, I had difficulty following the plot, but everything came together as I continued reading. Several secondary characters played vital roles in weaving the narrative together. Overall, I enjoyed the book, and the ending was entirely unexpected.

 

 Author Bio:

Muzzle the Black Dog by Mike Cobb

Mike’s body of literary work includes both fiction and nonfiction, short-form and long-form, as well as articles and blogs.

He is the author of three published novels, Dead Beckoning, The Devil You Knew, its sequel You Will Know Me by My Deeds, and Muzzle the Black Dog, a novella. He is also working on Kathleen, a fictionalized account of a cold case murder from 1970.

While he is comfortable playing across a broad range of topics, much of his focus is on true crime, crime fiction, and historical fiction. Rigorous research is foundational to his writing. He gets that honestly, having spent much of his professional career as a scientist.

A native of Atlanta, Mike splits his time between Midtown Atlanta and Blue Ridge, Georgia.

Catch Up With Mike Cobb:

MikeCobbWriter.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @cobbmg1
Instagram - @cobbmg
X - @mgcobb
Facebook - @MGCobbWriter
YouTube - @mikecobbwriter
Waterside Productions

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Friday, May 23, 2025

Spotlight of Two Seconds Late by Dani Pettrey (#contests- Enter to win A copy of the Book and A Bookshop Gift Card)

Two Seconds Too Late by Dani Pettrey Banner

TWO SECONDS TOO LATE

by Dani Pettrey

May 5 - 30, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:
JEOPARDY FALLS
 

A missing woman. Two hit men. When every second counts, who will survive?

Two Seconds Too Late by Dani Pettrey
In the stark but beautiful wilds of northern New Mexico, a couples' retreat at a luxury resort turns into a chilling nightmare when a woman vanishes. Skip tracer Riley MacLeod and private investigator Greyson Chadwick pose as a couple to hunt for clues that might reveal the missing woman's location. Those leads uncover a harrowing truth: They're not the only ones looking for her. What begins as a normal tracking case turns into a deadly chase when they, too, become the hunted.

As Riley and Greyson work together, their partnership ignites a tumultuous attraction, but Greyson's secrets prevent him from acting on his feelings for her, and Riley can't bring herself to fully trust him. Delving deeper into the case, they find themselves fighting not only for justice and the chance at a loving relationship . . . but also for their very survival.

Dani Pettrey Hooks Readers With . . .
"A fast-paced, thrilling ride. Readers of Lynette Eason and Colleen Coble will enjoy." --Library Journal starred review on One Wrong Move
"Romance that's as thrilling as the action, and faithful characters integrated seamlessly into a complex web of crime."-- Booklist on The Killing Tide

This action-packed romantic suspense novel is the second in Dani Pettrey's Jeopardy Falls series. Filled with crime and spy investigations, this clean Christian thriller will appeal to fans of Mission: Impossible, Lynette Eason, and Irene Hannon.

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense; Thriller; Action & Adventure
Published by: Bethany House Publishers
Publication Date: April 29, 2025
Number of Pages: 320
ISBN: 9780764238499 (ISBN10: 0764238493)
Series: Jeopardy Falls, Book 2 of 2 || Amazon | Goodreads
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Baker Publishing | Baker Book House

Read an excerpt:

 


Author Bio:

Dani Pettrey

Dani Pettrey is the bestselling author of the Coastal Guardians, Chesapeake Valor, and Alaskan Courage series. A two-time Christy Award finalist, Dani has won the National Readers’ Choice Award, Daphne du Maurier Award, HOLT Medallion, and Christian Retailing’s Best Award for suspense. She plots murder and mayhem from her home in Florida.

Dani Pettrey can be found online at:

DaniPettrey.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads - @danipettrey
BookBub - @DaniPettrey
Instagram - @authordanipettrey
Pinterest - @danipettrey
Facebook - @DaniPettrey

 

 

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Thursday, May 22, 2025

Review of the Mystery A Cold Cold World (A Sheriff Bet Rivers mystery Book 2) by Elena Taylor (#Contests- Enter to win

 

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series by Elena Taylor Banner

 

I want to welcome Elena Taylor to Books R Us. Elena is the author of All We Buried and A Cold,Cold World a mystery series. Thanks for stopping by and do not forget to enter the contest below.

A Cold, Cold World by Elena Taylor

Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural, Mystery
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: August 6, 2024
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Severn House

 

 


My Thoughts:

 

I thoroughly enjoyed the novel. Although I haven't read the first book in the series, "All We Buried," I had no trouble following the storyline. "A Cold Cold World" can be read as a standalone novel and is both fast-paced and thrilling.
In this book, Sheriff Bret Rivers faces several significant challenges: a dead body, a snowstorm that complicates her investigation, and a deputy whose wife is nine months pregnant. 

 

What’s a girl to do? She must solve the mystery quickly, with the assistance of her dog, Schweitz, her office manager, Alma, her deputy, Clayton, and other characters who enrich the story.
If you enjoy cop mysteries, this is the book for you. I look forward to reading the next installment in the series and other novels written by the author. 


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 Disclosure- I was given a free copy of the book for my honest review and I was not compensated for my review.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Spotlight of The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series by Elena Taylor (#contests Enter to win a print Copy of Each Book)@partnersincr1me

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series by Elena Taylor Banner

I want to welcome Elena Taylor to Books R Us. Elena is the author of All We Buried and A Cold,Cold World a mystery series. Stop by tomorrow for my review of A Cold, Cold World. Thanks for stopping by.
 
 
The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series

by Elena Taylor

April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

ALL WE BURIED

Sheriff Bet Rivers: All We Buried by Elena Taylor

Interim sheriff Elizabeth "Bet" Rivers has always had one repeat nightmare: a shadowy figure throwing a suspicious object into her hometown lake in Collier, Washington. For the longest time, she chalked it up to an overactive imagination as a kid. Then the report arrives. In the woods of the Cascade mountain range, right in her jurisdiction, a body floats to the surface of Lake Collier. When the body is extricated and revealed, no one can identify Jane Doe. But someone must know the woman, so why aren't they coming forward?

Bet has been sitting as the interim sheriff of this tiny town in the ill-fitting shoes of her late father and predecessor. With the nightmare on her heels, Bet decided to build a life for herself in Los Angeles, but now it's time to confront the tragic history of Collier. The more she learns, the more Bet realizes she doesn't know the townspeople of Collier as well as she thought, and nothing can prepare her for what she is about to discover.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Crooked Lane
Publication Date: April 7, 2020
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Penguin Random House

A COLD, COLD WORLD

A Cold, Cold World by Elena Taylor

Now In Paperback!

The world felt pure. Nature made the location pristine again, hiding the scene from prying eyes. As if no one had died there at all.

In the months since Bet Rivers solved her first murder investigation and secured the sheriff’s seat in Collier, she’s remained determined to keep her town safe. With a massive snowstorm looming, it’s more important than ever that she stays vigilant.

When Bet gets a call that a family of tourists has stumbled across a teen injured in a snowmobile accident on a mountain ridge, she braves the storm to investigate. However, once she arrives at the scene of the accident it’s clear to Bet that the teen is not injured; he’s dead. And has been for some time . . .

Investigating a possible homicide is hard enough, but with the worst snowstorm the valley has seen in years threatening the safety of her town, not to mention the integrity of her crime scenes – as they seem to be mounting up as well – Bet has to move fast to uncover the complicated truth and prove that she’s worthy of keeping her father’s badge.

A Cold, Cold World is nominated for a Foreword INDIES Award, Best Mystery of 2024 (winner announced early June)

Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural, Mystery
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: August 6, 2024
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Severn House

Praise for ALL WE BURIED:

"Well-crafted . . . Taylor skillfully sets the scene, describing the distinctive local landscape [while] the introspective, conflicted Bet proves her mettle. Readers will look forward to her next outing."
~ Publishers Weekly

"This spooky and suspenseful story should be a must-read for fans of Lisa Unger, J. A. Jance, and Julia Keller."
~ Booklist

"Extremely hard to put down . . . Would recommend this to anyone who loves mystery thrillers."
~ San Francisco Book Review

"This book stands apart due to its smart, thoughtful protagonist and its richly layered setting in the remote Washington wilderness."
~ Midwest Book Review

"A thrilling start to a mystery series."
~ BookTrib

Praise for A COLD, COLD WORLD:

"Readers who appreciate the strong woman police chief in Linda Castillo’s Kate Burkholder books or the vivid landscapes of Craig Johnson’s Walt Longmire mysteries will appreciate Taylor’s riveting crime novel."
~ Lesa Holstine, Library Journal Starred Review

"Taylor perfectly captures the tension and determination of a small town sheriff facing down an isolating blizzard while racing against the clock to solve a murder and save a missing child. Sheriff Bet Rivers will be your new favorite character"
~ Lisa Gardner, #1 New York Times bestselling author

"A terrific ensemble cast in a total immersion setting! Fans of CJ Box and Julia Spencer-Fleming will adore this novel – it’s whipsmart, completely cinematic, and full of heart. Not to be missed!"
~ Hank Phillippi Ryan, USA Today bestselling author of One Wrong Word

"Sheriff Bet Rivers is back with a suspenseful and shrewdly plotted story of deadly small town secrets . . . Think Longmire meets Yellowstone"
~ James L’Etoile, award winning author of Dead Drop and Face of Greed

"Tense and divinely atmospheric, this is the perfect book to curl up with on a cold winter’s day"
~ J.L. Delozier, author of the multi-award-winning mystery, The Photo Thief

 

Author Bio:

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series by Elena Taylor

Elena Taylor spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Her first series, the Eddie Shoes Mysteries, written under the name Elena Hartwell, introduced a quirky mother/daughter crime fighting duo.

With the Bet Rivers Mysteries, Elena returns to her dramatic roots and brings readers much more serious and atmospheric novels. The series introduces Collier, Washington, with its dark and mysterious lake, tough-as-nails residents, and newly appointed sheriff with her sidekick Schweitzer, an Anatolian Shepherd.

Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts, short stories, and plays. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com.

Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, dogs, and cats. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia.

Catch Up With Elena Taylor:
www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com
Elena's Blog: The Mystery of Writing
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @elenataylorauthor
Instagram - @elenataylorauthor
X - @Elena_TaylorAut
Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor

 

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on the Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

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

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