The Garden Girls by Jessica Patch

THE GARDEN GIRLS

by Jessica R. Patch

June 24 - July 19, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

FBI: Strange Crimes Unit

 

On a remote Outer Banks island, a serial killer collects his prized specimens. And to stop him, an FBI agent must confront his own twisted past.

FBI agent Tiberius Granger has seen his share of darkness. But a new case sets him on edge. It’s not just the macabre way both victims—found posed in front of lighthouses—are tattooed with flowers that match their names. There’s also the unsettling connection to the woman Ty once loved and to the shadowy cult they both risked everything to escape.

Bexley Hemmingway’s sister has gone missing, and she’ll do anything to find her—including teaming up with Ty. That may prove a mistake, and not just because Ty doesn’t know he’s the father of her teenaged son. It seems the killer is taunting Ty, drawing everyone close to him into deeper danger.

As the slashing winds and rain of a deadly hurricane approach the coast of North Carolina, the search leads Ty and Bex to an island that hides a grisly secret. But in his quest for the truth, Ty has ignored the fact that this time, he’s not just the hunter. Every move has been orchestrated by a killer into a perfect storm of terror, and they will need all their skills to survive…

Praise for The Garden Girls:

"A perfect storm of thrilling suspense and intricate plot twists that will leave readers breathless!"
~ Nancy Mehl, author of the Ryland & St. Clair series

"The Garden Girls by Jessica R. Patch is a hold-your-breath-and-pray novel full of suspense and unexpected twists. This gritty and compelling story is outstanding in every way. Highly recommended!"
~ Colleen Coble, USA Today bestselling author

"In a word, WOW! The story caught me up and didn’t let go to the final page. Tight action, beautiful pacing. **Highly Recommended**"
~ Carrie Stuart Parks, best-selling, award-winning author

"'Riveting!' Jessica R. Patch has created an immaculate psychological thriller that will leave the reader racing through the pages. Well-written characters and a plot that sizzles and crackles with danger made this story impossible for me to put down, and yet I didn’t want it to end. . .it’s that good. The Garden Girls will leave you breathless from the non-stop suspense filling the pages and wanting more from this amazing author"
~ USA Today Bestselling Author Mary Alford, author of Among the Innocent

"Buckle your seatbelt! Jessica R. Patch is about to blow you off the road with The Garden Girls. The story will grab you on the first page and won’t let go until The End!"
~ Patricia Bradley, USA Today Best-Selling romantic suspense author of Counter Attack Book 1 in the Pearl River Series

Book Details:

Genre: Christian Psychological Thriller
Published by: Love Inspired Trade
Publication Date: April 23, 2024
Number of Pages: 367
ISBN: 9781335463074 (ISBN10: 1335463070)
Series: FBI: Strange Crimes Unit, Book 3 || Each is a Stand-Alone Novel
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Harlequin | JessicaRPatch.com

Read an excerpt:

Prologue

Sharp claws scrape along my neck.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Buzzing fills the room, and I strain to open my eyes but they’re like molasses, thick and sticky and slow-moving. My stomach jumps and the room shifts as my blurred vision registers red walls and coffee-colored concrete. I inhale a hint of bleach and incense with a spicy note as I shift to survey the rest of the room, but my muscles ripple like languid water.

The air-conditioner kicks on, and the cold air raises chills across my naked body.

I’m…naked. A fist squeezes my lungs as panic rips through my system. My memories are disjointed.

Where am I? How did I arrive here?

What is happening to me? What has already happened? Shoe soles click on the floor and silence my questions.

I am not alone. Or…I wasn’t. The door closes with a quiet click.

Get up. Move. Run!

Gripping the sides of a massage table, I roll off, and my bare feet hit cool flooring. The walls close in and shift, and my stomach roils. Something is wrong. Off.

Floor-to-ceiling mirrors cover an entire wall, and my breath catches as reality comes into view.

Pink flower buds wend through a vine of black along my neck and upper back.

Confusion clouds my senses, and I stand cemented in place gawking at the angry red skin, sore and tender and smeared with glossy petroleum jelly.

A tight knot grows in my throat, and tears stab with heated force against the backs of my eyes.

I have to get out of here.

Behind me, I spot a twin bed with luxurious sheets and a thick white comforter as well as tattooing equipment. My hands tremble. Am I in a tattoo parlor? Why is a bed in here?

Lying on the floor next to the bed is an old iron cuff attached to a thick, heavy chain that is anchored to the wall.

Why is that in here and where are my clothes?

I snatch the downy comforter and drape it over my exposed body.

Run. Run. Run!

I open the door but have no clue which way to go or where he is or how long until he finds and cuffs me to that bed.

I’ve been trapped before at the hands of a vicious predator. Old memories surface and spur me across the carpeted flooring. The hall veers left. My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness as I flee to safety—no.

To a dead end.

Defeat leaches like muddy water into my soul, and my chest aches. The only choice is to turn around.

But he’s in that direction.

Sweat slicks down my temples and spine, springing up through my pores like an underground fountain as I return the way I came.

I see what might be a crack in the wall. Light seeps in from the other side. As I approach, I discover it’s a door made to look like part of the wall. I swallow hard and guide my fingers along the smooth wood until I feel a lever. I push it and the door releases, but it takes some grit to open it enough for me to slide through.

I expect some kind of lair or dungeon or God knows what—a wall with torture devices and cages—but it’s not.

It’s a living room with wall-to-wall windows overlooking dark water.

Where is he?

I suck in a breath as creaking registers on the stairs. There’s nowhere to hide, and the comforter is bulky and will easily give me away. I have no option but to ditch it in the corner. I can’t dwell on modesty.

Outside.

I dart toward the sliding glass door, silently slide it open and slip out into the warm night air before scrambling to the edge of the balcony. I crouch to make myself small, like when I was a child and needed to obscure myself.

Maybe he doesn’t realize I’m gone, but then it hits me.

I didn’t shut the secret door concealing the other rooms.

A sob bubbles to the surface as I shake uncontrollably like I’ve woken from anesthesia. The ground is far below me. I’d die or break my legs, maybe my spine. But I’d rather die than go back to that room.

To that chain.

To more tattoo needles.

To him.

I draw up my knees and wait, pray. Hope.

When the door doesn’t open, I scoot across the deck, the raw wood digging into tender flesh, but I need to see if the coast is clear.

What if he’s standing at the door, waiting? Watching?

I hear something and freeze.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi…I count silently until I reach Twenty Mississippi and scoot again.

I can’t be sure if he’s nearby. If he is, deep in the marrow of my bones, I know the kinds of things that await me. I know what evil men can do. I’ve seen it. Experienced it.

Finally, I muster the courage to peep through the door. The room is empty and dimly lit from the one glowing lamp. I creep inside; my brain is fuzzy and spins.

No footsteps. Only bulging shadows in the corners.

I slither across the Berber carpet and inhale the newness. A set of stairs is on the other side of the open living concept. About ten feet of space isn’t occupied with furniture which means when I make a run for it, and he enters the room, I’ll have no cover.

If he doesn’t and I make it downstairs, he could still be waiting for me.

I try to form a defense plan, but my brain might as well be sludge. Making my move, more out of my flight response than logic, I army-crawl across the open space to the stairs.

Two sets of six. I practically roll down the first set and pause.

He’s not there at the small landing.

Six more to go.

This time I move slower, ignoring the adrenaline shouting sprint. I can’t. He could be waiting and I need to listen.

One…two…three…four…five…six. I pause again at the bottom of the stairs.

No light befriends me on the ground floor. Only darkness—and darkness is never a friend. Darkness is deceptive, offering false security. Nothing good transpires in darkness. It’s not a refuge to hide. But a place to be found. In the dark, I can’t see my predator, but I know he’s lurking.

The door is five feet away to freedom, and I sprint for it.

Hope blooms in my chest.

I mutter a prayer as I run. Three feet left.

Two.

Thank God, I’m here. I twist the knob.

It’s locked.

A cry cracks loose inside me, but I hold it down and fumble with the dead bolt.

Shuffling sounds across tile.

Closer. Closer.

I manage to turn the dead bolt and pull on the door, but it sticks.

He’s coming. The clicks are methodic, slow and measured as if he’s in no hurry. Like he knows I can’t escape. It’s a game.

Please. Please. Come on!

The door opens and I slip out, forcing myself to stay calm in case my mind is playing tricks on me and it’s not him. This time, I make sure to close the door behind me. The air is balmy and the wind rustles through the grass.

The briny sea air washes over my tongue and the marsh grass swishes as I dart down a private boardwalk that leads…I don’t know where. I only know to run and eat up the ground and create distance between me and the house of horror. Between me and him.

Thick walls of clouds block the moonlight.

A door slams. Then I hear something.

Thwupt. Thwupt. Thwupt.

He’s dragging something across the boardwalk. I dare not turn to look.

He’s coming.

Slow and methodical. Silent. Only the awful dragging noise.

Nothing comes into view but marshland and water surrounded by clusters of trees. Alligators lie in wait. I can’t remember how I know this. There are snakes and snapping turtles too.

But he’s behind me.

Plopping noises in the water draw my attention, and I freeze. What is it? Will it approach me or prey on me if I enter too?

I can’t risk staying on the boardwalk. I ease myself into the icy depths and it steals my breath. Slime oozes over my feet, and I sink into mire. Murky water reaches my waist, sending a shock along my abdomen, but I can’t gasp. Instead, I push through the grass and hope the stirring due to my movement won’t alert him of my location.

Sharp twigs and rocks gouge into the bottom of my feet, and I crunch my bottom lip to keep from crying. Marsh grass appears soft at a glance, but it’s strong and sharp like knitting needles and stabs into my flesh and tender places where I’ve been tattooed in flowers.

Ahead is a patch of dense trees that would conceal me even in daylight. A huge splash sends ripples only a few feet away, startling resting birds to flight. Now I know what’s been causing the dragging noise.

A canoe.

He’s cutting through the narrow channels and at an advantage.

I can’t stop now. I push through the mud, which tries to hold me captive, and toward the dense thicket of trees. I finagle my way inside, but it’s like camping in a thorn bush, and nettles rip my flesh. A quiet cry escapes my throat, and I cover my mouth.

Did he hear me? Does he know I’m here?

I shiver in the water, my teeth chattering as something lightweight drops onto the crown of my head and skitters into the thick layers before I can catch it.

I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw to muffle a scream. What hideous legged creature is creeping through my hair?

What swims unseen below my waist?

Plop. Plop. Plop.

Fish, alligators, snakes…him?

“Daaaah, daaaah, dah daaaah,” his rich buttery tone sings. It echoes through the wetland and sweeps over my skin like icy talons. “I’ve got all night,” he continues singing. “I’ll take my time.” I cup my hands over my mouth to silence my chattering teeth. He’s close. So close. “I’ll find you. There’s nowhere to hide,” he belts out as if we’re in a Broadway show. His voice is magical and terrifying. “You belong to meeeee…You want only meee…”

I can’t stay here. He’ll find me. I work as silently as possible out of the thicket and away from the concentration of his voice. I hoist myself onto the wooden boardwalk because he believes I’m in the water. Rushing is out of the question. He’ll hear my footfalls. Slow and steady is about all I can muster anyway. My legs might as well be licorice sticks.

He’s still singing and slicing an oar through the water as I forge ahead, quickening my steps by a small measure until I finally reach the end of the boardwalk and am on dry ground. In the woods.

The woods mean I’ll find a road at the clearing. Help will drive by, and I’ll flag it down to freedom.

I wait a beat while my eyes adjust to greater darkness. The trees loom overhead, and the ground is mushy and mixed with sand. I stub my toe, tripping over roots jutting out, but press on. There’s a path and I follow it. Bike path maybe?

My feet are cut and bleeding and my head pounds. The path curves, then straightens out, and I halt.

Not a road.

Not freedom.

Before me is a long stretch of beach littered with driftwood and shells that cut into my feet. Beyond the beach is the endless sea. No homes. Only wetland to my back and the sea everywhere else.

I have no boat. No canoe. Nothing to propel me to freedom.

I’m on a private island, and I finally remember how I arrived.

***

Excerpt from The Garden Girls by Jessica R. Patch. Copyright 2024 by Jessica R. Patch. Reproduced with permission from Jessica R. Patch. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Publishers Weekly Bestselling Author, Jessica R. Patch is known for her dry wit and signature twists whether she’s penned a romantic suspense, a cold case thriller, or a small-town romance. When she’s not getting into fictional mischief with her characters, you can find her cozy on the couch in her mid-south home reading books by some of her favorite authors, watching movies with her family, and collecting recipes to amazing dishes she’ll probably never cook. Sign up for her newsletter "Patched In" at www.jessicarpatch.com and receive a FREE short thriller exclusive to subscribers. Jessica is represented by Rachel Kent of Books & Such Literary Management.

Catch Up With Jessica R. Patch:
www.jessicarpatch.com
Goodreads - @JessicaRPatch
BookBub - @JessicaRPatch
Instagram - @JessicaRPatch
Threads - @JessicaRPatch
Twitter/X - @JessicaRPatch
Facebook - @JessicaRPatch
TikTok - @readjessicarpatch

 

 

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My Take: I enjoyed this book although it did take me a while to get into it but I think it is because I have been in a small reading slump lately. This book reminded me a bit of The Tv show Criminal Minds. They had the same lingo and were even had a similar unit name. I was stumped as to who the serial killer was until it was revealed and having it happen during a hurricane ramped up the suspense and thrills for me. Some people may find the subject matter a little triggering but I enjoyed it. I gave it a four stars out of five on Goodreads. I received a review copy from Partners in Crime tours and was not required to write a positive review.

The Best Life Book Club by Sheila Roberts

Pump Up Your Book is pleased to bring you Sheila Roberts’ The Best Life Book Club Virtual Book Tour April 15 – June 14!

 

It started as a book club. It became a way to build a better life together.

Title: The Best Life Book Club

Author: Sheila Roberts

Publication Date: May 7, 2024

Pages: 368

Genre: Women's Fiction/Romantic Comedy/ContemporaryRomance

Karissa Newcomb is ready for a new start in a new neighborhood, as far away as she can get from Seattle, where her husband cheated on her with the neighbor who was supposed to be her best friend. She and her nine-year-old daughter are moving on to the city of Gig Harbor on the bay in Puget Sound. She even has a new job as an assistant at a small publishing company right in Gig Harbor. Her new boss seems like a bit of a curmudgeon, but a job is a job, she loves to read, and the idea of possibly meeting writers sounds fabulous.

Soon she finds she’s not the only one in need of a refresh. Her new neighbors, Alice and Margot, are dealing with their own crises. Alice is still grieving her late husband and hasn’t been able to get behind the wheel of a car since a close call after his death. Margot is floundering after getting divorced and laid off in quick succession. They could all use a distraction, and a book club seems like just the ticket. Together, the three women, along with Alice’s grumpy older sister, Josie, embark on a literary journey that just might be the kick-start they need to begin building their best lives yet.

Buy Links:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | HarperCollins

 

Book Excerpt:

Landing butt first in mud. How symbolic of Karissa Newcomb’s life. The old life. Not the new one, please, God.

She shouldn’t have crossed that corner of the lawn where the grass was sparse and slick in the pouring Northwest rain. Now here she was, wet and caked in mud. Like the cardboard box she’d dropped. At least the towels were still safely inside it. Something to be thankful for.

“See? There’s always a bright side somewhere,” her mother would say.

What was the bright side to Karissa’s marriage ending? There had to be one. It would be nice if she could find it before she turned thirty-five. It felt like a landmark birthday of sorts, but that was only a few months away though, so she wasn’t holding her breath.

Gig Harbor, Washington, a small maritime city, was a good place to start—close enough to Seattle for the obligatory bi-weekly child hand-off with the ex-husband, but far enough away that she wasn’t constantly having to look at the scene of the crime. Out of sight, out of mind. Someday, hopefully. Meanwhile, she needed to get up and get focused.

Brush the mud off your rear and get it in gear. That should be a bumper sticker.

She picked up her soggy box of towels and followed her brother Ethan and his friend Ike, who were making their way up her driveway, carrying her couch. Her eight-year-old daughter Macy was sitting on it, giggling.

The excitement of the new house had temporarily distracted Macy from the fact that she’d left behind her best friend. Who happened to be the daughter of Karissa’s former best friend. Like Karissa, Macy was going to have to find a new bestie.

Moving in the middle of February, in the middle of the school year, swimming through a deluge of icy rain wasn’t ideal, but that was how events had played out. The house in Seattle on which Karissa had lavished so much care had finally sold and now she had this house—a blue, two-story, Victorian-inspired one with three small bedrooms and a front porch. And a need for paint. The price had been right. Motivated sellers, the real estate agent had said. Karissa knew what that meant. She’d been a motivated seller, herself. Divorce had a way of motivating you. The house didn’t come with a water view like she’d originally dreamed of—water views were far outside her price point—but the neighborhood was pretty, and the street seemed quiet. She could hole up in her almost Victorian home and rebuild her life, the new start people expected you to make after your world collapsed.

“This is adorable,” her mother had gushed when she and Dad had made the trip to check out the house with Karissa and her Realtor.

Her parents were as enamored of Gig Harbor and its waterfront downtown as Karissa was. “I think Gig Harbor will be a perfect place to write the next chapter of your life,” Mom had told her.

“I hope I do a better job of writing this time around,” Karissa had muttered.

“It wasn’t you who messed up,” her dad had growled.

But maybe it was.

She jerked her mind away from that thought. She had a new house and a new job waiting for her. Between that and the spousal and child support her ex was paying she’d be okay financially. Certainly not rich, but okay. And she had free moving help. Look at all the good things she could focus on.

Inside the house, she followed one of the butcher-paper paths she’d made and set the box on the guest bathroom counter. Then she went back for the one with her clothes, brought that into the primary bedroom, which would be hers, and dug out a fresh pair of pants and panties. Think of this as peeling off all the bad parts from your past, she told herself as she ducked into the bathroom and stepped out of her pants.

It was hard peeling off the bad though. It stuck to you like dog poop on a shoe. There was always some little stinky bit that hung on. Like the memory of Mark walking out the door for the last time.

Dog poop, mud. She needed a new image to focus on. Rain. Rain washing away past sadness, bringing a rainbow and a promise of something better. Yes, that was a good image.

Her butt hurt.

Her cell phone rang, and she fished it out of her jacket pocket. “Hi, Mom,” she said, trying to sound the way a hopeful woman making a new start should sound.

“How’s it going?” Mom wanted to know.

“The guys are moving the furniture in now.”

“What’s the weather like there? It’s partly sunny up here.”

“It’s raining like crazy. I should have rented an ark instead of a moving van. I spent a fortune on plastic covering.”

“At least it’s not snow,” Mom said. “And the rain is what keeps everything so green.”

The Pacific Northwest was famous for its perpetual state of green and Seattle had been dubbed the Emerald City. Like Dorothy, Karissa had loved living in the Emerald City.

Until the witch showed up.

 

About the Author

USA Today and Publishers Weekly best-selling author Sheila Roberts has written over fifty books under various names, ranging from romance and relationship fiction to self-improvement. Over three million of her novels have been sold and that number continues to climb. Her humor and heart have won her a legion of fans and her novels have been turned into movies for the Lifetime, Hallmark, and Great American Family channels. Sheila is also a popular speaker, and has been featured at women’s retreats, writers’ conferences, and banquets. When she’s not out dancing with her husband or hanging out with friends, she can be found writing about those things near and dear to women’s hearts: family, friends and chocolate.

Author Links  

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Instagram 

 

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My Take: I really enjoyed this book. I went to the Book Club at my local book club for a while but I realized that I had to be in certain mood to read a certain book. If I wasn't enjoying a book I wouldn't read the book. So I wouldn't fit in with this group of women but it was different as they all grew to be really good friends. I liked that the main character got to work for a publishing company and she ended up finding books for them to publish. I would recommend this book if you are looking for a beach read or a pool side read. I gave this book a 4 out of 5 stars on Goodreads.

All The Books I have read so far this year

When Jenny inherits her estranged grandmother’s cottage in Sherwood Forest, she has nothing to lose - no money, no job, no friends, no family to speak of, and zero self-respect. Things can only get better... Her grumpy, but decidedly handsome new neighbour, Mack, has a habit of bestowing unsolicited good deeds on her. And when Jenny is welcomed into a rather unusual book club, life seems to finally be getting more interesting. Instead of reading, the members pledge to complete individual challenges before Christmas: from finding new love, learning to bake, to completing a daredevil bucket list. Jenny can’t resist joining in, and soon a year of friendship and laughter, tears and regrets unfolds in the most unexpected ways. Warm, wise, funny and utterly uplifting, what one thing would you change in your life before Christmas comes around? I rated this 4 stars. Don't really remember much about it but must have liked it at the time.

New York Times Bestseller Jinger Vuolo, the sixth child in the famous Duggar family of TLC's 19 Kids and Counting and Counting On , recounts how she began to question the unhealthy ideology of her youth and learned to embrace true freedom in Christ. When Jinger Duggar Vuolo was growing up, she was convinced that obeying the rules was the key to success and God's favor. She zealously promoted the Basic Life Principles of Bill Gothard, Jinger, along with three of her sisters, wrote a New York Times bestseller about their religious convictions. She believed this level of commitment would guarantee God's blessing, even though in private she felt constant fear that she wasn't measuring up to the high standards demanded of her. In Becoming Free Indeed , Jinger shares how in her early twenties, a new family member—a brother-in-law who didn't grow up in the same tight-knit conservative circle as Jinger—caused her to examine her beliefs. He was committed to the Bible, but he didn't believe many of the things Jinger had always assumed were true. His influence, along with the help of a pastor named Jeremy Vuolo, caused Jinger to see that her life was built on rules, not God's Word. Jinger committed to studying the Bible—truly understanding it—for the first time. What resulted was an earth-shaking realization: much of what she'd always believed about God, obedience to His Word, and personal holiness wasn't in-line with what the Bible teaches. Now with a renewed faith of personal conviction, Becoming Free Indeed shares what it was like living under the tenants of Bill Gothard, the Biblical truth that changed her perspective, and how she disentangled her faith with her belief in Jesus intact. I rated this at 3 stars. I liked her sisters book better.

Spensa’s life as a Defiant Defense Force pilot has been far from ordinary. She proved herself one of the best starfighters in the human enclave of Detritus and she saved her people from extermination at the hands of the Krell—the enigmatic alien species that has been holding them captive for decades. What’s more, she traveled light-years from home as an undercover spy to infiltrate the Superiority, where she learned of the galaxy beyond her small, desolate planet home. Now, the Superiority—the governing galactic alliance bent on dominating all human life—has started a galaxy-wide war. And Spensa has seen the weapons they plan to use to end it: the Delvers. Ancient, mysterious alien forces that can wipe out entire planetary systems in an instant. Spensa knows that no matter how many pilots the DDF has, there is no defeating this predator. Except that Spensa is Cytonic. She faced down a Delver and saw something eerily familiar about it. And maybe, if she’s able to figure out what she is, she could be more than just another pilot in this unfolding war. She could save the galaxy. The only way she can discover what she really is, though, is to leave behind all she knows and enter the Nowhere. A place from which few ever return. To have courage means facing fear. And this mission is terrifying. I rated this 4 stars. I didn't like this as much as the others in the series.

In the 1920s, the richest people per capita in the world were members of the Osage Nation in Oklahoma. After oil was discovered beneath their land, the Osage rode in chauffeured automobiles, built mansions, and sent their children to study in Europe. Then, one by one, the Osage began to be killed off. The family of an Osage woman, Mollie Burkhart, became a prime target. One of her relatives was shot. Another was poisoned. And this was just the beginning, as more and more Osage were dying under mysterious circumstances, and many of those who dared to investigate the killings were themselves murdered. As the death toll rose, the newly created FBI took up the case, and the young director, J. Edgar Hoover, turned to a former Texas Ranger named Tom White to try to unravel the mystery. White put together an undercover team, including a Native American agent who infiltrated the region, and together with the Osage began to expose one of the most chilling conspiracies in American history. I gave this a 5 stars. I was very interested in this case.

Tension builds as the body count increases. Emily Davis stumbles across a skull while searching for a missing hiker in Hickory Run State Park, and someone goes to great lengths to keep her away from the case. Boulder Field’s national landmark status and its popularity makes it impossible to keep the story out of the national press, and a viral video puts Emily in the cross-hairs of a serial killer. The sergeant assigned to investigate the case is none other than her high school sweetheart, Wade Brunner. The Butcher of Boulder Field must be stopped. Emily and Wade will need to work together to end his reign of terror. I rated this at 3 stars. It was so so.

Twenty years ago, several people were murdered in Des Moines, and the only evidence left behind was a snowman ornament hanging on a tree on their front lawns. With a suspect behind bars, the killings have come to an end--or so everyone thought. But now crimes with a similar MO are happening in a small Iowa town, and a local detective believes the killer is back and ready to strike again. With little time on the clock before they have another murder on their hands, private investigators River Ryland and Tony St. Clair must work alongside Tony's father to find evidence that will uncover an evil that has survived for far too long. As the danger mounts and the suspect closes in, it will take all they have to catch a killer--before he catches one of them. USA Today bestselling author Nancy Mehl continues her explosive new FBI profiler series with an intense story of revenge and redemption. I rated this at 5 stars. This was a very good next in the this series.

Now that she’s in her fifties, Penelope Standing has life pretty well figured out. Her pet sitting business keeps her busy, her neighbors are conspiring to get her boyfriend, Jake, to propose, and she has just enough free time to make the corrupt mayor’s life miserable. Then she arrives to walk Brutus, the lovable but ill-behaved mastiff — and finds his owner, Jezza, dead. While the police work to uncover Jezza’s past, Penelope launches an investigation of her own, talking to her clients as she takes care of their pets. Even Brutus, “temporarily” staying with Penelope and Jake, provides clues. More than one person had a motive for murder. But only one of them is coming after Penelope… I rated this at 4 stars. I enjoyed this.

Family secrets can be the most dangerous of all. When Carly Tucker’s police-officer husband is killed during a home break-in, she knows that her side hustle finding the antique treasures at flea markets isn’t enough to support her and their infant son, Noah. So her grandmother’s proposal to have her and her two sisters restore the family’s waterfront Beaufort home into a bed-and-breakfast--that Carly will run--is immediately intriguing. But it’s equally daunting with the animosity that exists between the three sisters. What Carly never expected as she begins to go through the attic was to find a letter in a trunk, written in her husband’s handwriting . . . dated two days before his death. Eric had discovered that Carly’s grandmother was adopted--a fact Carly is certain Gram is not aware of--and had already begun trying to track down her birth family. Is it possible that Eric’s death wasn’t random after all? With few options, Carly reaches out to Gram’s neighbor Simon—and the older brother of her high school sweetheart--who is a local homicide detective. One of the items in the trunk is an enameled egg. If it truly is a Faberge egg, the value could set Carly up for life . . . and would certainly be worth killing for. The journey to find the truth and protect her family will have Carly delving deep into the lost treasures of Eastern Europe--if she and Simon can survive that long. I rated this at 4 stars. I was really interested in the Faberge Egg angle.

Taunting riddles. A deadly string of heists. Two broken hearts trapped in a killer's game. Christian Macleod was pulled into a life of crime at a young age by his con artist parents. Now making amends for his corrupt past, he has become one of the country's foremost security experts. When a string of Southwestern art heists captures the FBI's attention, Christian is paired up with a gifted insurance investigator who has her own checkered past. Andi Forster was a brilliant FBI forensic analyst until one of her colleagues destroyed her career, blaming her for mishandling evidence. She now puts those skills to work investigating insurance fraud, and this latest high-stakes case will test her gift to the limit. Drawn deep into a dangerous game with an opponent bent on revenge, Christian and Andi are in a race against the clock to catch him, but the perpetrator's game is far from finished, and one wrong move could be the death of them both. I rated this at 4 stars. I really enjoyed this thriller.

It should be simple—a dragon defeated, a slumbering maiden, a prince poised to wake her. But when said prince falls asleep as soon as his lips meet the princess', it is clear that this fairy tale is far from over. With a desperate fairy's last curse infiltrating her mind, Princess Aurora will have to navigate a dangerous and magical landscape deep in the depths of her dreams. Soon she stumbles upon Phillip, a charming prince eager to join her quest. But with Maleficent's agents following her every move, Aurora struggles to discover who her true allies are, and moreover, who she truly is. Time is running out. Will the sleeping beauty be able to wake herself up? Once Upon a Dream marks the second book in a new YA line that reimagines classic Disney stories in surprising new ways. I rated it 3 stars. Found this a bit on the boring side.

Imagine a world where your eyes can't be trusted... When the Sycamore corporation releases the ultimate gadget -- an implantable microchip designed to replace smartphones -- society rapidly descends into dystopia. Augmented reality contact lenses act as the new system's display, simultaneously recording everything in the user's field of vision. The potential applications are limitless. So are the surveillance opportunities. Soon after gaining access to Sycamore’s inner circle and learning the corporation’s plans for the future, the chip’s young creator painfully regrets ever giving them the idea. Power like this has never existed. I rated this at 4 stars. It reminds me a bit like what the Bible says will happen in the last days.

Ellingham Academy is a famous private school in Vermont for the brightest thinkers, inventors, and artists. It was founded by Albert Ellingham, an early twentieth century tycoon, who wanted to make a wonderful place full of riddles, twisting pathways, and gardens. “A place,” he said, “where learning is a game.” Shortly after the school opened, his wife and daughter were kidnapped. The only real clue was a mocking riddle listing methods of murder, signed with the frightening pseudonym “Truly, Devious.” It became one of the great unsolved crimes of American history. True-crime aficionado Stevie Bell is set to begin her first year at Ellingham Academy, and she has an ambitious plan: She will solve this cold case. That is, she will solve the case when she gets a grip on her demanding new school life and her housemates: the inventor, the novelist, the actor, the artist, and the jokester. But something strange is happening. Truly Devious makes a surprise return, and death revisits Ellingham Academy. The past has crawled out of its grave. Someone has gotten away with murder. The two interwoven mysteries of this first book in the Truly Devious series dovetail brilliantly, and Stevie Bell will continue her relentless quest for the murderers in books two and three. New York Times bestselling author Maureen Johnson weaves a delicate tale of murder and mystery in the first book of a striking new series, perfect for fans of Agatha Christie and E. Lockhart. I rated this at 4 stars. I found it pretty interesting and a good thriller.

Inheriting your uncle's supervillain business is more complicated than you might think. Particularly when you discover who's running the place. Charlie's life is going nowhere fast. A divorced substitute teacher living with his cat in a house his siblings want to sell, all he wants is to open a pub downtown, if only the bank will approve his loan. Then his long-lost uncle Jake dies and leaves his supervillain business (complete with island volcano lair) to Charlie. But becoming a supervillain isn't all giant laser death rays and lava pits. Jake had enemies, and now they're coming after Charlie. His uncle might have been a stand-up, old-fashioned kind of villain, but these are the real thing: rich, soulless predators backed by multinational corporations and venture capital. It's up to Charlie to win the war his uncle started against a league of supervillains. But with unionized dolphins, hyperintelligent talking spy cats, and a terrifying henchperson at his side, going bad is starting to look pretty good. In a dog-eat-dog world...be a cat. I rated this at 4 stars. I thought it had a pretty good premise.

Two years ago, Joseph King was convicted of murdering his wife and sentenced to life in prison. He was a “fallen” Amish man and a known drug user with a violent temper. Now King has escaped, and he’s headed for Painters Mill. News of a murderer on the loose travels like wildfire, putting Chief of Police Kate Burkholder and her team of officers on edge. But this is personal for Kate. She grew up with Joseph King. As a thirteen year old Amish girl, she’d worshipped the ground he walked on. She never could have imagined the nightmare scenario that becomes reality when King shows up with a gun and takes his five children hostage at their Amish uncle’s farm. Armed and desperate, he has nothing left to lose. Fearing for the safety of the children, Kate makes contact with King only to find herself trapped with a killer. Or is he? All King asks of her is to help him prove his innocence—and he releases her unharmed. Kate is skeptical, but when the facts and the evidence don’t align, she begins to wonder who she should trust. Spurned by some of her fellow cops, she embarks on her own investigation only to unearth an unspeakable secret—and someone who is willing to commit murder to keep it buried. I rated this at 4 stars. I thought it was a pretty good thriller.

A masterfully paced thriller about a reclusive ex–movie star and her famous friends whose spontaneous trip to a private Greek island is upended by a murder ― from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Silent Patient. This is a tale of murder. Or maybe that’s not quite true. At its heart, it’s a love story, isn’t it? Lana Farrar is a reclusive ex–movie star and one of the most famous women in the world. Every year, she invites her closest friends to escape the English weather and spend Easter on her idyllic private Greek island. I tell you this because you may think you know this story. You probably read about it at the time ― it caused a real stir in the tabloids, if you remember. It had all the necessary ingredients for a press a celebrity; a private island cut off by the wind…and a murder. We found ourselves trapped there overnight. Our old friendships concealed hatred and a desire for revenge. What followed was a game of cat and mouse ― a battle of wits, full of twists and turns, building to an unforgettable climax. The night ended in violence and death, as one of us was found murdered. But who am I? My name is Elliot Chase, and I’m going to tell you a story unlike any you’ve ever heard. I rated this at 3 stars. It just fell a bit flat for me.

Ryland Grace is the sole survivor on a desperate, last-chance mission—and if he fails, humanity and the earth itself will perish. Except that right now, he doesn’t know that. He can’t even remember his own name, let alone the nature of his assignment or how to complete it. All he knows is that he’s been asleep for a very, very long time. And he’s just been awakened to find himself millions of miles from home, with nothing but two corpses for company. His crewmates dead, his memories fuzzily returning, Ryland realizes that an impossible task now confronts him. Hurtling through space on this tiny ship, it’s up to him to puzzle out an impossible scientific mystery—and conquer an extinction-level threat to our species. And with the clock ticking down and the nearest human being light-years away, he’s got to do it all alone. Or does he? I rated this at 3 stars. I know that it is Science fiction but there was a bit much science. I skimmed the last third of it.

After discovering the truth behind Sycamore, tech pioneer Kurt Jacobs rejects the corporation’s offer of a new identity and chooses to fight to expose the truth. But with an overt threat against his family hanging over him, Kurt must act without being seen. In Sycamore’s hyper-connected dystopian world full of palm-based microchips and augmented reality contact lenses, this is easier said than done... I rated this 4 stars it was a good followup to the first book.

As part-time Tinker’s Cove, Maine reporter Lucy Stone says “ oui” to her daughter’s surprise wedding invitation in France, she must also make a different kind of vow—to catch a killer! When Lucy Stone arrives at a sprawling French chateau with the whole family, it should be the trip of a lifetime—especially because she’s about to watch her oldest daughter, Elizabeth, marry the handsome, successful man of her dreams. But while navigating the vast countryside estate owned by her impenetrably wealthy in-laws-to-be, the jet-lagged mother of the bride has a creeping feeling that Elizabeth’s fairytale nuptials to Jean-Luc Schoen-Rene are destined to become a nightmare . . . Maternal instincts are validated the moment a body is pulled from a centuries-old moat on the property. A young woman has dropped dead under mysterious circumstances—possibly at the hands of someone at the chateau—and unflattering rumors about the Schoen-Rene line and their inner circle flow like champagne. Then there’s the matter of Elizabeth’s hunky ex beau showing up on the scene as she prepares to walk down the aisle . . . With tensions building, personalities clashing, and real dangers emerging at the chateau, Lucy is determined to protect her family, together for the first time in years, and expose the one responsible. She’ll have to locate the culprit among a list of worldly jilted lovers and potential criminal masterminds, or Elizabeth’s trip down the aisle could end in tragedy . . . I rated this book at 3 stars. Too much crusading for my taste. If I wanted to learn about sex trafficking and environmental issues I would read a book about them.

One Wrong Move by Dani Pettrey

One Wrong Move

by Dani Pettrey

February 2 - March 1, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Taunting riddles.
A deadly string of heists.
Two broken hearts trapped in a killer's game.

Christian O'Brady was pulled into a life of crime at a young age by his con artist parents. Now making amends for his corrupt past, he has become one of the country's foremost security experts. When a string of Southwestern art heists targets one of the galleries Christian secured, he is paired up with a gifted insurance investigator who has her own checkered past.

Andi Forester was a brilliant FBI forensic analyst until one of her colleagues destroyed her career, blaming her for mishandling evidence. She now puts those skills to work investigating insurance fraud, and this latest high-stakes case will test her gift to the limit. Drawn deep into a dangerous game with an opponent bent on revenge, Christian and Andi are in a race against the clock to catch him, but the perpetrator's game is far from finished, and one wrong move could be the death of them both.

Dani Pettrey captivates with...

"An intense blend of suspense, love, and faith."
~ Booklist

"Wicked pace, snappy dialogue, and likeable characters."
~ Publishers Weekly

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published by: Bethany House Publishers
Publication Date: February 6, 2024
Number of Pages: 400
ISBN: 9780764238482 (ISBN10: 0764238485)
Series: Jeopardy Falls, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Baker Book House

Read an excerpt:

PROLOGUE

He inhaled the stiff resolution of her death. She’d seen Cyrus. Remembered him. Now he’d need to silence her before she could mention Cyrus to anyone at the gallery. The imbecile should have been more careful, but that’s why he was in play. To assure things went according to plan, to remove anyone who stood in their way, and when it was done, to take out Cyrus and Casey. That he would delight in. Cyrus had been a pain in his rear as far back as he could recall. Casey. He was just a lamb to the slaughter, unfortunate fool.

Enrique released a smooth exhale, then inhaled the spicy scent of the girl’s perfume wafting on the stiff October breeze—­whistling through the wind tunnel the long row of downtown businesses made.

Killing her would alert Cyrus to his presence in the States, but, perhaps it would keep him on his toes. Someone needed to.

Maintaining a good distance from his prey, Enrique followed as she meandered through the shops, wearing one of those recyclable grocery bags slung over her shoulder. A baguette and fresh flowers peeked out of the top. She made another stop, this time popping into a coffee shop. He kept walking, stopping a handful of stores down on the opposite side of the street, and waited, letting the other shoppers meld him into the crowd.

A cup of coffee in hand, the girl emerged.

He turned back to look in the storefront before him, waiting until she was far enough ahead for him to resume following. Nearly a fifteen-­minute walk out of town, in an isolated patch of wind-­stirred mesa, sat a two-­story adobe building. Four exterior doors, each with a letter on it. Apartments.

Watching from behind a copse of trees, he waited while she retrieved her keys from her pocket, opened the bottom exterior door on the right, and disappeared inside. He held back, awaiting nightfall. He glanced at his watch. Not long. He surveyed the building, using binoculars to peer through the sheer curtains of her unit. A light in the bedroom shone, and slips of it spilled from what he could only assume was the adjacent bathroom.

He smiled.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and soon darkness shrouded the land. Time to move. Heading around to the back of the building, he found a sliding door to her unit. Easy enough. He jimmied the lock and eased inside.

Water ran in the bathroom, but a voice carried in song from the other side of the apartment. “Carry on Wayward Son.” Interesting choice.

He moved with stealth, approaching what he discerned was the kitchen. A teakettle whistled as steam from the open bathroom door filled the space. The girl turned the corner, dressed in a robe, a teacup in her hand. Her eyes locked on his, and panic flashed across her face as the teacup fell and shattered on the floor.

He smiled. Time to have some fun.

ONE

“Wait here,” Cyrus ordered.

“Why?” Casey asked—­though pawn suited him better. As much as it galled him, Cyrus needed the insipid man. Needed his skills. For now. But when they were done, so was he. “Why?” he asked again.

Cyrus gritted his teeth. So incessant. He shook out his fists. Only a handful of locations to go and the questions would cease. He would cease. “It doesn’t take two of us to get what we came for,” he said, hoping Casey would accept the answer and let it drop, but he doubted it. “I’ve got this. Two of us will only draw more attention.”

“Fine.” Casey slumped back against the van’s passenger seat.

The imbecile was pouting like a girl. And, that knee. Cyrus wanted to break it. Always bouncing in that annoying, jittery way. The seat squeaked with the rapid, persistent motion. He shook his head on a grunted exhale. If Casey didn’t settle . . . if he blew their plans. Cyrus squeezed his fists tight, blood throbbing through his fingers. Too much was at stake. His own neck was on the line.

He turned his attention to the task at hand. “I won’t be long,” he said, surveying the space one last time before opening the van door. The lot behind them was dead, the building still. He climbed out, his breath a vapor in the cold night air. He glanced back at their van, barely visible in the pitch-­black alley.

Shockingly, Casey remained in the passenger seat, his knee still bouncing high.

He shut the van door as eagerness coursed through him. The thrill and rush of the score mere minutes away. Just one quick job and then it was finally time.

He slipped his gloved hands into his pockets. A deeper rush nestled hot inside him, adrenaline searing his limbs. His fervency was for the kill.

He moved toward the rear of the restaurant, where the rental rooms’ entrance sat. His gloved fingers brushed the garrote in his right pocket, and he shifted his other hand to rest on the hilt of his gun. Which way would it go? Garrote or gun? Anticipation shot through him. Rounding the back of the building, he hung in the shadows and then stepped to the door and picked the lock—­so simple a child could have done it. But what had he expected of a rent-­by-­the-­hour-­or-­day establishment?

Opening the door, he stepped inside the minuscule foyer and studied the two doors on the ground level. Nothing but silence. He found the light switch and flipped off the ceiling bulb illuminating the stairwell, then crept up the stairs, pausing as one creaked. He held still, his back flush with the wall, once again shadowed in dark­ness. Nothing stirred.

Reaching her room, he picked the lock, stepped inside, and shut the door, locking it behind him.

She was asleep on the shoddy sofa, a ratty blanket draped across her. Getting rid of her now might be easier, but what fun was it killing someone while they slept? And he needed to make sure she had the items.

He stood a moment, watching her chest rise and fall with what would be her final breaths, then he knocked her feet with his elbow.

Her eyes flashed open as she lurched to a seated position. She rubbed her eyes. “You’re late.”

Less chance of witnesses.

“You have the items?”

She nodded.

“Get them. We’re in a hurry.”

She got to her feet and headed for the bedroom.

He followed.

To his surprise, she climbed up on the dresser and reached for the heating vent.

Huh. She was smarter than he’d expected, yet not bright enough to know what was coming.

Pulling the dingy grate back, she retrieved a black velvet pouch and a bundle of letters held in place by a thick rubber band.

“Hand them over,” he said.

She hopped down and hesitated. “I get my cut, right?” She clutched the items to her pale chest.

“You’ll get your cut,” he said, wrapping his hands around the garrote.

She released her hold. Taking the bag first, he slid it into his upper jacket pocket, then slipped the letters into his pant pocket. “Good job.”

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing her creamy neck. “Thanks.”

Restless energy pulsed through him.

“Are we done here?” she asked, shifting her stance, her arms wrapped around her slender waist.

“Just about.”

“What’s left to do?” she asked, her head cocked, and then she stilled. She took a step back. So she’d finally figured it out.

“No.” She shook her head, backing into the paneled wall. In one movement, left hand to right shoulder, he spun her around and slipped the garrote over her head.

He’d intended to give her the option—­the easy way with a gunshot to the head or the hard way with the garrote. But the hard way was far more pleasurable, giving him the best elated high.

It really was a shame. She was a pretty thing.

Five minutes later, he was back in the van, leaving the body behind.

“You got everything?” Casey asked as they pulled onto the street, their headlights off.

Cyrus smiled and handed both items to him. They were a go. The appetite for what was to come gnawed at Cyrus’s gut, but in a good way. It was time to feed the anticipation that had been growing in him for nigh on a year. It was time to scratch that itch.

TWO

Christian’s hands gripped the rock face. Granules abraded the tender flesh beneath his nails, leaving them raw. Pushing up on the ball of his foot, he strained, his fingers searching for the crag. Finally, his hand landed on the cold surface—­only three inches deep. On a sharp inhale and slow exhale, he lunged upward—­only the slightest hold kept him from the hundred-­foot drop to the forest below. His foot landed on the next hold, and he settled, his muscles hot in the brisk dawn air. Blood throbbing through his fingers, he shifted the weight onto the balls of his feet.

Mapping the next route in his head, he leaped for the next hold. Air replaced the solid rock for the breath of a second, and searing adrenaline crashed through him as the hold slipped away. His pulse whooshing in his ears, he slid down, finally grabbing hold of a crag on his rapid descent. His fingers gripped hard—­the only thing holding his body weight and keeping him from the ground far below.

He examined the cliff, looking for a foothold. Something. Anything. Adrenaline raked through him, quivering his arms. Not good. Time held motionless until he anchored his foot on a narrow ledge, small rocks shifting under the soles of his climbing shoes. He kept his weight on the ball of his foot while scanning for a new route up. He exhaled as he found it, but it was going to require another leap of faith.

Releasing his hold, he lunged for a more solid handhold. Gripping it, he worked his way up to another ledge—­this one deep enough to settle comfortably onto.

His breathing quickened by the climb, he turned and pressed his back against the volcanic rock—­cool against his heated and perspiring skin—­and exhaled in a whoosh. Talk about a close one. He smiled. One more adventure down.

He held for a moment, taking in the morning light spreading across what seemed an endless sky. Man, he loved this view. Narrow shafts of sunlight streamed down through the early morning fog, lighting the yellow-­and-­orange foliage ablaze. Everyone talked about the beautiful fall colors in New England, but for him nothing beat fall in New Mexico, and it was peak season.

He sank into the silence. Only the occasional chirping of birds in the trees below rushed by his ears on the stiff, mounting breeze.

The brilliant orange sun rose higher above the horizon, its rays glinting off the rushing water of the swift creek at the bottom of the valley—­chasing away the fading chill of night and replacing it with renewed warmth of the coming day.

“Ain’t Worried About It” broke the silence with its melody. Who on earth was calling so early? He prayed nothing was wrong. It was the only reason he kept his cell on him while climbing—­in case there was an emergency and his family needed him.

He shimmied the phone from the Velcro pocket on his right thigh and maneuvered it to his ear without bothering to look at who was calling. “O’Brady.”

“I need you here now!” Tad Gaiman’s voice shook with rage.

Why on earth was Tad calling him so early? Why was he calling him, period?

Tad’s heated words tumbled out. “My gallery’s been robbed!”

“What?” Christian blinked. There was no way. The security system upgrades he’d installed made it impenetrable, or so he’d thought.

“Do you hear me? My gallery has been robbed!”

“I do.” He kept his voice level. Tad was frantic enough for the both of them. “Which gallery?” The man owned three.

“Jeopardy Falls.”

The one in their hometown? Crime was nearly nonexistent in their small ranching, lately turned tourist, town of five hundred. “Take a deep breath and calm down so you can focus.”

“Calm down?” Tad shrieked, and Christian held the phone away from his ear. Even his sister Riley couldn’t hit that high of a pitch. “Did you not hear me? My gallery’s been robbed.”

“I hear you. Let me call you back.”

“Call me back? You cannot be serious!”

“I’m balanced on a ledge on Manzano.”

“Of course you are.” Tad scoffed.

“I’ll call you when I’m on the road.”

“And how long will it take you to get here? This is a DEFCON 5 situation.”

Christian shook his head. Clearly, Tad had no idea what he was talking about. DEFCON 5 meant peacetime.

“Christian! How soon?”

“I need to climb down and make the drive back to town. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“An hour!”

“We’ll talk through it on my way in.”

Scaling down the rock face as fast as he could, Christian reached his vintage Bronco.

Climbing inside, he clicked on the Bluetooth he’d installed. It’d cost a lot, but in his line of work, he needed to be able to talk while on the road chasing down a case. He shook his head, still baffled that anyone had beat the security system.

He dialed Tad.

Normally his drive along the winding dirt roads through the mountains was calming, but not today.

Tad picked up on the third ring.

“Okay,” Christian said, swiping the chalk from his hands onto his pants—­the climbing towel too far to reach. “Walk me through it. Did the alarm go off?”

“The one on the security system you said couldn’t be beat? No!”

Christian took a stiff inhale. How on earth had someone gotten through the door without the key fob? The fob . . . “Tad, do you have your key fob?”

Silence hung thick in the air as Christian’s Bronco bumped over the ruts in the dirt road, the drop-­off only inches from his tires. He rounded the bend, and the road—­if it could be deemed one—­widened. “Tad?” he pressed.

“Okay, fine. I don’t have it.”

“Where is it?” Christian asked as he headed for the main road that led back to Jeopardy Falls.

Tad swallowed, the slippery, gulping sound echoing over the line. “I think the woman I spent last night with after the gala took it.”

“Riley mentioned she might attend the gala, but she couldn’t make it.”

“It was well attended.”

“And the woman you mentioned?”

“I met her at the gala.”

“She’s not local?”

“I’ve never seen her before last night.”

“So she just strolled into the gala?”

“Yes. It was a semiprivate affair. I sent out invites but welcomed anyone, given it was Friday Night on the Town.”

Their small town had instituted the night on the town for one Friday a month about a year ago, and it had really drummed up business for the eclectic downtown shops.

“Let’s shift back to the gallery,” Christian said. “I’m assuming you used Alex’s fob to get into the building?”

“No. I can’t get in.”

“Why not?” Christian pulled out onto the paved road.

“I can’t reach Alex, despite the fact she’s supposed to open this morning.”

“Okay . . . so walk me through what happened with the fob.”

“I woke up and that . . . woman was gone, and the fob wasn’t where I’d left it. I searched my place, but it’s not there, so I rushed to the gallery. I stopped at Alex’s place on the way, but no answer. She is so—”

“Settle down, Tad. Let’s think this through. Do you think Martha would let you into Alex’s place if you explained the situation?” Maybe the landlady would understand. Jeopardy Falls was a small enough town where everyone knew everyone, which was still taking time for him to get used to. To be known. Well, known at what he was willing to show, which wasn’t much.

“I’m not leaving my gallery. Not until I get inside and see what damage is done. You get the fob from Martha.”

Christian furrowed his brows. “If you can’t get in the gallery and the alarm didn’t go off, how do you know it’s been robbed?”

“Because I can see the three front cases through the porthole windows in the door. They’re open and empty.” A sob escaped Tad’s throat, though he tried to cover it with a cough.

Christian exhaled. “All right. I’ll call Martha, but she might not feel comfortable letting us in.” It was a lot to ask. “Actually, I think in this case, it’s best to have Sheriff Brunswick to reach out to Martha.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tad said. “Give him a call.”

“Wait?” Christian tapped the wheel. “He’s not there yet?”

“No.”

“Did he give you an ETA?” Maybe Joel was on another call. Their county was large, and with only him and one undersheriff, they had a lot of ground to cover.

“I haven’t called him yet.”

Christian’s brows hiked. “You called me before the sheriff?” Where was the sense in that?

“You put the supposedly impenetrable system in. I want to know what went wrong. And I need you to get me inside if we can’t get Alex’s fob.”

“Me?” Christian tapped the wheel.

“You installed the system, so surely you know how to beat it. And, regardless, you’re the one the sheriff calls when they need a locksmith or safecracker on a case. Though you’re quite more than a simple locksmith, aren’t you?”

Christian stiffened. “Meaning?”

“Whoever did this obviously had knowledge of the system.”

“And . . . ?” Christian tightened his grip on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re to blame.”

Christian swallowed the sharp retort ready to fly and took a settling breath instead. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

He disconnected the call before Tad could throw another barb in his direction. He knew all too well how those stinging barbs felt, but this time he was innocent.

***

Excerpt from One Wrong Move by Dani Pettrey. Copyright 2024 by Dani Pettrey. Reproduced with permission from Bethany House Publishers. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

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 the Washington, DC, metro area.

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Instagram - @authordanipettrey
Facebook - @DaniPettrey

 

 

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My Take: This is the first book in a new series. I really liked this book as it took me into a world that I don't think I have ever really read about, the world of Art Heists. In This book we meet Christian, his brother Deckarrd and their Sister Riley. They are all involved somehow in a Private iNvestigation firm. There is also Gaston who sold them the firm and trained them And has remained as a sort of a jack of all trades. Christian installed the alarm system at some galleries that have been robbed so they get into the investigation. Then there is Andi who works for the insurance company and is in charge in finding out who stole the art. Andi use to work for the FBI until she had to resign in disgrace after a case she was working on evidence disappeared and her anylisis was corrupted. Her Best friend Harper is out to prove her innocent before she goes on a mission trip. So Christian and Andi pair up to work on the Art heist and Deckard and Harper team up to work on clearing Andi's name. The mysteries are interesting and keep you guessing until the outcome is revealed. There is alot of romance so if you like romance and mystery this is a good book for you. i gave this a 4 out of 5 five stars and am really looking forward to book two in the sereis. I recieved a review copy of this book from Partners in Crime Book Tours and was not required to write a positive review.