Showcase: Into The Light

Note: I received a complimentary copy from Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours  and enjoyed the book so much that I purchased a copy. Look for my review very soon.

Into the Light

by Darcia Helle

on Tour February 1-28, 2019

Synopsis:

Max Paddington refuses to go into the light until he finds his killer. This presents a dilemma, since Max is even less competent as a spirit than he was as a live person. No one sees or hears him and he can’t manage to get anywhere or do anything on his own.

Joe Cavelli is a private investigator, living an ordinary life. Then one day he walks across a parking lot, gets yelled at by a ghost, and his life only gets stranger from there.

Max and Joe team up to find Max’s killer. In the process, they form an unlikely friendship and change each other’s lives in ways they never expected.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Paranormal Suspense
Published by: Indie
Publication Date: July 14th 2011
Number of Pages: 250
ISBN: 146364020X (ISBN13: 9781463640200)
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audible

Read an excerpt:

Joe fumbled with the lock on his door. Once inside, he flipped the deadbolt and headed straight for his bedroom. He didn’t bother with lights, didn’t undress. He sprawled face down on the rumpled sheets and exhaled a long sigh.

Mysterious voices and dead people. This night could not get any crazier. Lydia must have spiked his drink with some sort of hallucinogenic. Maybe she thought he’d enjoy the trip. Or maybe she was crazy. He should call Chris, make sure he was okay.

“Not a bad place, Joe. You live alone?”

Joe shuddered, a tiny shriek escaping his lips. He sounded like a scared girl. Jesus. “Don’t do that!” he shouted.

“Sorry,” Max said. “I forgot that you can’t see me. I’m still here. Ain’t that cool? I wasn’t sure. Thought I might get stuck in your car, like I was stuck in that awful parking lot. But I blinked and here I am, in your place.”

“Perfect.”

“So have you thought about it? Will you help me?”

“Help you what? You’re not even real!”

“I am real. Well, like we discussed before, I’m as real as any dead person could be.”

“Go away.”

“I can’t. I mean, even if I wanted to, I don’t know how. I can’t figure this ghost thing out.”

“There is no dead guy in my house.”

“Hey, you must have a computer, right?” Max said. “Everyone has a computer these days. Look it up. Even us nobodies have to make the news when we get murdered. You’ll see. I’m real!”

Joe flipped over and stared into the darkness. Nothing there. Not even a tiny blip. No weird shadows, no floating orbs. So much for what they claimed on all those ghost-hunter programs.

Before he could give it much thought, Joe found himself grabbing his laptop from the top of his dresser. He sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for it to boot up, and thinking about how crazy this all was. He hadn’t watched the news last night or at any time today. Someone could have been murdered in that parking lot yesterday.

But a ghost, following him home? Crazy.

As he opened a browser page, that nasally, disembodied voice said, “Max. Max Paddington. I was at Chili’s. Then I got shot in that bank parking lot.”

Joe typed the name into a Google search. He found the story on TBO.com. He scanned the article, not sure whether he should be happy or mortified. A man named Maxwell Paddington had been murdered in that parking lot last night. Shot in the head by an unknown assailant. The police had no leads, though they believed it might have been a carjacking gone bad.

“Carjacking,” Max sputtered. “How ridiculous is that? It wasn’t about my car! That person shot me. Just shot me!”

“What person?” Joe heard himself ask.

“I don’t know! Someone in a ball cap. Or a cap, anyway. I don’t know if it was a ball cap or some other kind of cap.”

“Someone wearing a hat shot you.”

“Yes! Because of my wife. She was mad about those golf clubs.”

Joe dropped his head into his hands. “No. Stop talking.”

“But—”

“Stop. Talking.”

The room fell silent. Joe waited a moment, then did what he always did when he was in trouble. He dug his cell phone from his pocket and called his big brother.

“Jimmy,” he said when his brother picked up. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Jimmy said. “What’s up?”

“I think I might have lost my mind.”

Jimmy chuckled. “That’s not news. You lost that years ago.”

“I’m serious, Jimmy. I’m hearing voices.”

“Voices? What kind of voices?”

“Well, not really voices. A voice. One voice.”

“One voice? What the hell are you talking about?”

Joe quickly filled his brother in on Max. He heard the desperation in his own voice and forced himself to slow down. This was crazy. He was crazy. That was the only explanation.

After a brief silence, Jimmy said, “A ghost named Max followed you home? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel crazy, Jimmy. I swear. But crazy people don’t ever really know they’re crazy, do they?”

“You’re not crazy, Joe.”

“The guy is real. Not real, like I can see him. But he was alive yesterday and now he’s dead. How the hell can this be happening?”

“Do you remember having invisible playmates when you were a kid?”

“This is not an invisible playmate!”

“I know that.” Jimmy paused, cleared his throat. “You heard voices when you were a kid. All the time. I’d walk into the room and you’d be holding a conversation with someone I couldn’t see or hear. At first, you’d do it only at home. Mom and Dad thought you had an invisible playmate, like a lot of kids do.”

“I remember that,” Joe said. “Vaguely. Felt real to me then.”

“Maybe because it was.”

“What?”

“Pretty soon you didn’t just do it at home. We’d be out at a store or a restaurant and you’d start talking to invisible people. Tell us their stories. Freaked Mom out. Dad thought you were schizophrenic. Made Mom take you to a shrink.”

“Jesus. I don’t remember that.”

“You were young. Maybe four.”

As Joe listened to Jimmy talk about the ghosts from his childhood, fragments of memories surfaced. All those voices talking to him. He’d thought it was normal, that everyone could hear them. Soon he’d realized how wrong he was, and he’d tried to keep them secret. His father, then the psychiatrist, had insisted there were no spirits talking to him. All of it was his imagination. His father had demanded he stop pretending and acting like a baby. The psychiatrist had scared him with his constant questions and disapproving eyes. Not long afterward, the voices had faded away.

“You’re saying I really heard the voices of dead people?” Joe said.

“That’s what Mom always thought.”

“She told you that?”

“Not directly. I heard her talking to Aunt Jeannie a few times.”

Joe sat with the phone pressed against his ear. He could find no words. Which was worse, being crazy or having real conversations with dead people?

“You should call Mom,” Jimmy said.

“She’s in Vegas. Left this morning with a bunch of her friends.”

“You want me to fly down there? I could take a few personal days.”

“No. Thanks. I’m okay.”

“This ghost, what’s he saying to you?”

Joe gave a humorless laugh. “He says his wife killed him over some golf clubs.”

“Well, there you go.”

“What?”

“He needs Joe Cavelli, Super Sleuth, to solve his murder.”

***

Excerpt from Into the Light by Darcia Helle. Copyright © 2019 by Darcia Helle. Reproduced with permission from Darcia Helle. All rights reserved.

 

Darcia Helle

Author Bio:

Darcia Helle is a Massachusetts native, who escaped the New England winters to write in the Florida sunshine. She lives with her husband in a home full of spoiled rescue animals and an occasional stray lizard. She writes because the characters trespassing through her mind leave her no alternative.

Catch Up With Darcia Helle On:
darciahelle.com, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

02/01 Showcase @ Waterside Kennels Mysteries
02/02 Showcase @ tfaulcbookreviews
02/03 Review @ Book Reviews From an Avid Reader
02/04 Review @ Nesies Place
02/05 Showcase @ Eclectic Moods
02/06 Interview/showcase @ CMash Reads
02/07 Review @ Wall-to-wall books
02/07 Showcase @ Im All About Books
02/08 Review @ Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!
02/08 Showcase @ The Bookworm Lodge
02/09 Showcase @ Just Books
02/10 Guest post @ Mythical Books
02/11 Showcase @ Celticladys Reviews
02/12 Interview @ Cozy Up WIth Kathy
02/13 Review @ Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!
02/14 Guest post @ Loris Reading Corner
02/15 Interview @ BooksChatter
02/16 Review @ Life at 17
02/18 Showcase @ Lisa-Queen of Random
02/19 Review @ Stacking My Book Shelves!
02/21 Review @ JBronder Book Reviews
02/22 Interview @ Crack A Book Cafe
02/26 Review @ Instagram – Love My Dane Sailor
02/27 Review @ A Room Without Books is Empty

ENTER TO WIN:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Darcia Helle. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway begins on February 1, 2019 and runs through March 1, 2019. Void where prohibited.

Enter to win: Rafflecopter Giveaway

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Book Blast Tuesday!

Moon Games

by Shelly Frome

Synopsis:

The Secluded Village Murders by Shelly Frome

At the outset, Miranda Davis has nothing much going for her. The tourists are long gone by October in the quaint Carolina town of Black Mountain, her realty business is at a standstill, and her weekend stint managing the local tavern offers little to pull her out of the doldrums. When prominent church lady Cloris Raintree offers a stipend to look into the whereabouts of a missing girl hiker on the Q.T, Miranda, along with her partner Harry (an unemployed features writer) agree.

But then it all backfires. A burly figure shambles down a mountain slope with a semi-conscious girl draped over his shoulder. Miranda’s attempts to uncover Cloris Raintree’s true motives become near impossible as she puts up one smokescreen after another, including a slip of the tongue regarding an incident in Havana. The local police keep stonewalling and Harry is of little help.

Tarot cards left on Cloris’ doorstep and arcane prompts on her e-mail only exacerbate the situation. Growing more desperate over the captive girl’s fate, Miranda comes across a link to a cold case of arson and murder. With the advent of the dark of the moon, she is summoned to “Tower Time” as this twisty tale continues to run its course.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Amateur Detective
Published by: Milford House
Publication Date: August 2018
Number of Pages: 264
ISBN: 1620061848
Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

The wind picked up yet again, joined by spatters of cold rain and the rustle of leaves from the encircling shrub.

All at once, the lantern flicked off, a scream cut through the wind and spatters. The cries became muffled, replaced by the grunts of a hulking figure clambering up the knoll, coming directly toward him with something writhing and flailing over its back.

For one interminable moment, he caught sight of her eyes, frozen, terrified, beseeching him.

Reflexively, despite every decent intention deep in his bones, Harry dropped the Maglite, turned and ran down the slope, tripping and stumbling, falling to his knees, righting himself, smacking into a brush that scraped his cheek. Rushing headlong now, smacking into more brush and banging his elbow, he kept it up, twisted his ankle but hobbled forward fast as he could until he reached his station wagon. Squirming behind the wheel, he fumbled for his keys, dropped them on the mat, groped around, snatched them up, grinded the ignition, set both front and back wipers going and shot forward hitting the trunk of a tree. He backed up into the hedgerow, turned sharply, not daring to flip on the headlights, scraped another tree and slid onto the narrow lane.

He switched on the low beams so he could see where he was going in the drizzle and fog and began making his way down. Dull headlight beams flashed behind his rear window and faded.

With his mind racing and the wipers thwacking away as the rain lashed across the windshield, he careened down the zig-zagging lane and thought of the car that was wedged under the branches parked on a downward angle and the hulking figure carrying his prey over his shoulder shambling toward it. And her eyes, those beseeching eyes.

He might have a few seconds lead before the girl was tossed in the trunk . . . or deposited in the cottage while the driver lying in wait exchanged signals and went after him. So many what-ifs? while some cowardly part of him only wanted a place to hide.

Then the dull, low beams flicked on again, glinting on his rearview mirror.

Straining to see through the wipers and beads of rain, he turned off down Sunset, then onto a flat, darkened stretch, then gunned it through an amber light over the tracks across brightly lit Route 70.

He drove away from the tracks where the girl doubtless had been tailed, came upon a T and swerved left onto a sign that said Old Route 70. In no time, he spotted a Grove Stone Quarry, but the gates were closed and he could swear the low beams tailing him flicked on again. If only he could stop veering all over the place, if he could get behind those humongous mounds of sand and stone.

Ignoring the traffic light, he cut to his right and swerved up a road bordered by a high wire fence demarcating a prison facility, sped past until he was hemmed in by walls of white pine. The walls of pine were intersected by for-sale arrows and a bright red banner. He killed his headlights altogether, swerved again into a cluster of model homes that formed a cul-de-sac, and coasted to a stop as the car stalled.

He got out and followed an exposed drain pipe that angled down until it cut off at a rain-slick paved drive onto a neighborhood of two-story houses, porch lights and street lamps.

His ankle gave way again as he became fixated on circling back to that massive, enclosed hiding place where he could try to get his bearings.

The cold rain beat down harder. Though the Blue Ridge range hovered in the near distance, it was shrouded in mist and offered no comfort.

***

Excerpt from Moon Games by Shelly Frome. Copyright © 2018 by Shelly Frome. Reproduced with permission from Shelly Frome. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at the University of Connecticut, a former professional actor, a writer of crime novels and books on theater and film. He is also a features writer for Gannett Media. His fiction includes Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Lilac Moon, Twilight of the Drifter, Tinseltown Riff, and Murder Run. Among his works of non-fiction are The Actors Studio and texts on the art and craft of screenwriting and writing for the stage. Moon Games is his latest foray into the world of crime and the amateur sleuth. He lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina.

Catch Up With Our Author On:
Website, Goodreads, & Twitter!

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!
Bound 2 Escape
Brooke Blogs
Caroles Book Corner
Celticladys Reviews
CMash Reads
Eclectic Moods
Jersey Girl Book Reviews
Lauras Interests
Mystery Suspense Reviews
Mythical Books
Nesies Place
Our-Wolves-Den
Read and Review
Stacking My Book Shelves!
Tfaulcbookreviews
The Book Divas Reads
The Bookworm Lodge
The Reading Frenzy

Giveaway!

Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Shelly Frome. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway begins on November 6, 2018 and runs through November 14, 2018. Void where prohibited.

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Showcase: The Vampire Knitting Club

Introducing a new series of paranormal cozy mysteries by bestselling author Nancy Warren!

Synopsis:

The Vampire Knitting Club by Nancy Warren

At a crossroads between a cringe-worthy past (Todd the Toad) and an uncertain future (she’s not exactly homeless, but it’s close), Lucy Swift travels to Oxford to visit her grandmother. With Gran’s undying love to count on and Cardinal Woolsey’s, Gran’s knitting shop, to keep her busy, Lucy can catch her breath and figure out what she’s going to do.

Except it turns out that Gran is the undying. Or at least, the undead. But there’s a death certificate. And a will, leaving the knitting shop to Lucy. And a lot of people going in and out who never use the door—including Gran, who is just as loving as ever, and prone to knitting sweaters at warp speed, late at night. What exactly is going on?

When Lucy discovers that Gran did not die peacefully in her sleep, but was murdered, she has to bring the killer to justice without tipping off the law that there’s no body in the grave. Between a hot 800-year-old vampire and a dishy detective inspector, both of whom always seem to be there for her, Lucy finds her life getting more complicated than a triple cable cardigan. The only one who seems to know what’s going on is her cat … or is it … her familiar?

Book Details:

Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Published by: Ambleside Publishing
Publication Date: September 2018
Number of Pages: 250
ISBN:13 9781981498970
ASIN: B07HDBQ7BB
Series: The Vampire
Knitting Club #1
Purchase Links: Amazon Goodreads

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 1 to tempt you:

Cardinal Woolsey’s knitting shop has appeared on postcards celebrating the quaint views of Oxford, of which there are many. But when a visitor has tired of writing ‘wish you were here’ on the back of pictures of the various colleges, the dreaming spires, and the dome of the Radcliffe Camera, a cozy little shop painted blue, brimming with baskets of wool and hand-knit goods, can be so much more inviting.

My grandmother Agnes Bartlett owned the knitting shop and I was on my way to visit after spending a very hot month at a dig site in Egypt visiting my archeologist parents.

Gran was always ready to wrap her warm arms around me and tell me everything was going to be all right. I needed comforting after discovering my boyfriend of two years Todd had stuck his salami in someone else’s sandwich. I referred to him now as my ex-boyfriend The Toad. I was thinking about Gran’s wisdom, her hugs and her home made gingersnaps, when I started to feel as though cold, wet fingers were walking down the back of my neck.

My wheeled suitcase clanked and rattled behind me along the cobblestones of Harrington Street as I looked around, wondering what had caused the heebie-jeebies.

The October day was chilly and crisp and, in the mid-afternoon, the street was busy with shoppers, tourists and students. Church bells chimed three o’clock. When I glanced ahead, I saw my beloved Gran. She wore a black skirt, sensible shoes and one of her hand-knit cardigans, this one in orange and blue. She was walking with a glamorous woman in her sixties whom I didn’t recognize. I thought Gran looked confused and my hackles immediately rose. The glamor puss was holding an umbrella over Gran’s head, even though the day was dry and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

I waved and called, “Gran!” moving faster so my suitcase began to bounce.

I was sure they saw me, but as I sped toward them, they veered down a side street. What on earth? I lifted my case and began to run; though my case was so heavy it was more of a grunting stagger.

“Gran!” I yelled again. I stopped at the bottom of the road where I’d last seen them. There was no one there. A dry, shriveled leaf tumbled toward me and from a window ledge a small, black cat regarded me with what looked like pity. Otherwise, the street was empty.

“Agnes Bartlett!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

I stood, panting. The side street was lined with a mixture of half-timbered cottages and Victorian row houses, all clearly residential. Gran hadn’t popped into a shop and would soon emerge. She was visiting in one of those homes, presumably. I wondered if it belonged to her friend.

Well, there was no point standing there. I’d go to Cardinal Woolsey’s and wait for Gran there. Her assistant, Rosemary, would be running the shop and I could let myself into the upstairs flat and unpack while I waited for my grandmother to return.

I retraced my steps, but when I reached the entrance to the quaint shop and tried the door, it didn’t open. I tried again, pushing harder, before my other senses kicked in and I realized that no lights were on inside.

A printed sign hung on the windowed front door. It said, “Cardinal Woolsey’s is closed until further notice.” At the bottom was a phone number.

Closed until further notice?

Gran never closed the shop outside her regular closing days. And if she had, where was her assistant?

I stood on the sidewalk that feeling came again, like cold fingers on the nape of my neck.

***

Excerpt from The Vampire Knitting Club by Nancy Warren. Copyright © 2018 by Nancy Warren. Reproduced with permission from Nancy Warren. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

Nancy Warren

Nancy Warren is the USA Today bestselling author of more than 60 novels including the Toni Diamond cozy mystery series.

She shares her time between Victoria, British Columbia, and Bath in the UK.

Catch Up With Nancy Warren On:
nancywarren.net, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

Next stops on the book tour:

10/28 Review @ Cozy Up WIth Kathy
10/29 Review @ The Montana Bookaholic
10/30 Review @ Reading Authors
10/30 Showcase @ Just Books
10/31 Showcase @ shannon. muir@ outlook. com
11/01 Guest post @ Jane Reads
11/02 Review @ Simply Kelina
11/03 Review @ Musings From An Addicted Reader
11/04 Interview @ A Blue Million Books
11/05 Review @ A Holland Reads
11/06 Showcase @ Quiet Fury Books
11/07 Review @ The Bookworm
11/08 Review @ Jane Reads
11/09 Interview @ The Bookworm
11/09 Showcase @ Celticladys Reviews
11/10 Review @ Brooke Blogs
11/11 Review @ SailorGirlEtc
11/12 Review @ Nesies Place
11/13 Review @ JBronder Book Reviews
11/15 Review @ tfaulcbookreviews
11/16 Review @ WTF Are You Reading?

Great reads at terrific prices!

“Cozy fans who love dogs are in for a treat!” (Publishers Weekly)

Sale Alert: Digital editions of the first 20 books in the Melanie Travis canine mystery series are on sale for just a few more days. Get your copies here.

Image may contain: dog and text

This is a fabulous series from one of the best authors in the business. She’s an Agatha and Macavity Nominee, winner of the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, and four-time winner of the prestigious Maxwell Award presented by the Dog Writers Association of America.

Learn all about the Laurien’s work at her website. You can also follow her on Facebook and on Twitter ‎@LaurienBerenson. These are perfect gifts for dog lovers who are fans of mysteries written with wit and style!

Recommended Reads

A few weeks ago, I received a note from a reader who loves my book (thank you!) and was in search of the next in my series. Since life events have pushed back my publication date for Dangerous Deeds I shared a few of my own favorite writers with her. I also turned to social media to solicit more recommendations from readers and authors alike.

Long-time readers of this site will recognize some of these authors from earlier posts. Most (but not all) of the following suggestions fall in the “cozy” side of mystery fiction. I’ve included links so you can check these out for yourself!

Laurien Berenson Melanie Travis Canine Mysteries

Laura Childs Tea Shop Mysteries, Scrapbook Mysteries, and Cackleberry Club Mysteries

Susan Conant Dog Lover’s Mysteries

Judith Cranswick Fiona Mason Mysteries

Diane Mott Davidson Goldy Shulz Mysteries

Leighann Dobbs Mystic Notch Mysteries and other series

Carola Dunn Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries

Doranna Durgin Dale Kinsall Mysteries and other series

Frances Evesham  Exham on Sea Mysteries

Charlaine Harris Aurora Teagarden Mysteries and other series

Miranda James Cat in the Stacks Mysteries

Susan J. Kroupa Doodlebugged Mysteries

Patti Larsen  Fiona Fleming Mysteries and other series

Jerry Last Roger and Suzanne Mystery Series

Graeme Simsion Don Tillman Books (romantic comedies)

If your reading preferences stretch beyond the books mentioned here, be sure to visit Susan Toy’s blog Reading Recommendations. Susan’s own work, by the way, has also been featured here on my site.

You can ask your local bookseller to order any of these authors for you. Find a list of independent local bookstores here.

You’re welcome to leave a comment and add your own suggestions. If you’re an author, please recommend the work of another writer in addition to your own books.