Wear White to Your Funeral by Lisa Acerbo

Musically Yours – How Music Defines Characters

by Lisa Acerbo

Think back to your teen years. Isn’t there a song or two from the time period that sticks with you and helps you relive those magical moments? I was recently tasked with creating a playlist for the main characters in my new book Wear White to Your Funeral. Going through the process, I realized how music helps an author define characters above and beyond the way classic characterization works and gives the readers a way to relate to unfamiliar situations.

A musically gifted coworker helped me choose the correct songs for Bowen, my teenage, male protagonist. I had two songs with the word “kiss” in the title and he told me to remove them. No self-respecting teenage boy would have a playlist with them on it. On the other hand, I disagreed with his recommendation of Taylor Swift for Rory, the female, teenage protagonist, believing Swift’s music too young for her. In both cases, using music added depth and layers to my characters and helped me envision them in ways I had not prior to putting my playlist together.

But this is not new. Authors have and continue to use music in creative ways. Music defines characters, creates symbols and motifs, connects readers to characters and situations, and expresses mood in ways words cannot. 

Music provides readers with insight into what motivates and sustains a character. In A Streetcar Named Desire, the main character, Blanche, sings “Paper Moon” in the bathtub. The song, about turning what is real into a lush fantasy, helps clarify how Blanche is unable to deal with and accept her current, less than prosperous situation. Polka music and jazz are also used to set the mood and juxtapose Blanche’s past and guilt over her husband’s death with her present, gritty reality in the city.

Similarly, music connects readers to characters and themes in literature. In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, humans are believed to be more empathetic than their android counterparts and, therefore, able to appreciate the beauty in art and music. Luba Luft, an android who sings opera, comes across with more empathy than the human whose job it is to destroy her. This is due to Luft’s pure joy when discussing the music she sings.

Typically, authors consider how characters look, what they say, what they do, what they think, and what others say about them. Music can add insight into the inner workings of a character, including emotions, likes and dislikes, and even their stance on love, life, and politics while helping connect an audience to them. 

Wear White to Your Funeral

Lisa Acerbo

Publication date: October 28th 2016
Genres: Mystery, Romance, Young Adult

Rory is your average high school senior. Or she was, until her mother banishes her to hell, also known as Trumbull, Connecticut. The small suburb with only a mall and movie theater, sure feels like the netherworld until Rory’s first day at her new school. That’s the day she meets Bowen, who begs her to join him on a class project. But when Bowen drags her to a graveyard after dark for research purposes, Rory wants to fly back home to Atlanta, or at least return to her aunt’s house unharmed and unmolested.

Nothing could go wrong, right? They talk, they laugh, and they wander among the tombstones looking for information on the local ghostly legend known as the White Lady. Then they have to run, but they cannot outrun a ghost. In addition to the ghostly woman, a half buried dead body leads Rory and Bowen into a deadly game of cat and mouse, but who is the killer? Is it human or something long dead and otherworldly?

The police are of little help, Rory’s aunt just wants her to remain safe, and Bowen, who she can’t stay away from, keeps finding ways to get her into more trouble than she has ever known. Whether breaking into a suspected killer’s house, being followed by a menacing ghost, or being stalked at school, Rory hopes finding the killer will put an end to the supernatural haunting. Before Rory can discover the identity of the killer, she is drawn into the mystery of the White Lady, which opens the door for some very real danger.

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EXCERPT:

Rory tried to pay attention until she heard a husky whisper.

“Hey, new girl.” Rory turned toward the low voice. The boy with piercing blue eyes stared at her.

“I’m Bowen.”

“I caught that,” she whispered back.

“Want to work together on the assignment?”

“Is it a group project?” Rory was confused by the offer.

“It is if you want it to be. Watch and learn. But first, say ‘yes.’”

He was definitely bad-boy cute. Rory giggled. “Yes.” Maybe school wouldn’t be as horrible as she imagined. She felt optimistic for the first time that day.

“Mrs. Miller?” Bowen interrupted.

“Yes, Bowen.” Miller sounded slightly irritated, but not really. It was like she already knew what Bowen planned to ask.

“The new girl.” He looked at Rory expectantly.

“Rory.” She filled in her name for him.

“I think Rory needs help with the assignment, being new here and all,” Bowen said.

“Do you now?” Mrs. Miller looked at him over the top of her librarian glasses, not believing for a minute his intentions were pure. “Why would you say that? I’m sure she is a capable young lady.”

“You do have extremely high expectations,” Bowen replied, causing twitters of laughter to erupt from around the class. “And she has not been exposed to the inverted pyramid.”

Rory had no idea what that was, so maybe she did need Bowen’s help.

“So true. So true. You are a wise man Bowen Hesse. I believe it’s a good idea you pair up with Rory and demonstrate those high expectations.”

“Every time, Mrs. Miller.”

Mrs. Miller made a noise that did not sound at all teacher-like. “I expect a higher word count if you two are pairing up.”

“Really?” He smiled at Rory and she noticed a slightly crooked tooth in an otherwise perfect smile.

“Yes, really.” The teacher said through her own smile. He shrugged. “You got it. One hundred words at least.”

The class chortled in unison.

“You’re a jokester, Bowen. Class,” she addressed everyone now, “the minimum word count for this assignment is 750. Bowen, for you and Rory, it should be 1000 words.”

His blue eyes widened. Groans quickly replaced the recent giggles that had echoed through the room.
Class resumed, and Rory heard ideas for articles ranging from pumpkin carving to the best Halloween candy. With less than twenty minutes before the bell would ring, the class divided into groups based on the section of the newspaper or yearbook they wanted to write for. She was the exception. Rory watched as Bowen pulled his desk over to her. He stood two or three inches taller than her in his University of Connecticut basketball t-shirt and faded jeans.

“So you up for writing about the White Lady?”

“You don’t want to brainstorm other topics?” Rory was disappointed. She knew nothing of the local legend and hoped to do an article on something she had some background knowledge about.

“We can, but I have a great idea for a story on the ghost.”

“Really?” Rory didn’t want to lose the chance to work with Bowen and make a friend. “In that case, sure, but I don’t really know anything about her, being from the South.”

“Where from?”

The broken record began to play. “Atlanta.”

“I want to know more. I’d like to go South one day.”

“For college?”

Bowen gave a non-committal shrug. His shirt climbed up his shoulder. The last words of his tattoo peeking out of the sleeve.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Why?” Rory asked quietly.

“I can give you a crash course on the White Lady.” He ran a hand through his short, spiky hair. Disheveled, he looked slightly dangerous but even more attractive.

“Really?” Rory didn’t know where Bowen’s interest stemmed from. Back in Atlanta men like him would have left her — the bookworm, Honor Society, AP classes kind of student — alone, very alone.

“Sure.” He gave her a devilish wink.

Her heart stuttered. Her words followed. “Weellll, I have to have dinner with my aunt, but after that, I’m sure it will be okay.” She took a calming breath.

“Excellent.” A smile formed on Bowen’s lips. “That’ll be perfect. It will be dark when we go to the graveyard.”

Author Bio:

Lisa Acerbo is a high school teacher and holds an EdD in Educational Leadership. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, daughters, three cats, and horse. She is the author of Apocalipstick and has contributed to local newspapers, news and travel blogs including The Patch and Hollywood Scriptwriter.

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Review: The Daemoniac by Kat Ross + Giveaway

The Daemoniac
A Dominion Mystery, #1
Kat Ross
Publication date: October 12th 2016
Genres: Historical, Mystery, Young Adult

It’s August of 1888, just three weeks before Jack the Ripper will begin his grisly spree in the London slum of Whitechapel, and another serial murderer is stalking the gas-lit streets of New York. With taunting messages in backwards Latin left at the crime scenes and even more inexplicable clues like the fingerprints that appear to have been burned into one victim’s throat, his handiwork bears all the hallmarks of a demonic possession.

But consulting detective Harrison Fearing Pell is convinced her quarry is a man of flesh and blood. Encouraged by her uncle, Arthur Conan Doyle, Harry hopes to make her reputation by solving the bizarre case before the man the press has dubbed Mr. Hyde strikes again.

From the squalor of the Five Points to the high-class gambling dens of the Tenderloin and the glittering mansions of Fifth Avenue, Harry and her best friend, John Weston, follow the trail of a remorseless killer, uncovering a few embarrassing secrets of New York’s richest High Society families along the way. Are the murders a case of black magic—or simple blackmail? And will the trail lead them closer to home than they ever imagined?

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Review: I received this book from the author/publisher in exchange for an honest review

Top Ten Reasons You Should Read The Daemoniac Now!

~Main character, Harry, is everything I love in a female lead: intelligent, driven, and somewhat fearless in her pursuit of the truth. Plus her uncle is Arthur Conan Doyle-- all kinds of awesome! 

~John Weston, Harry's stalwart friend. I fell in love with him and really hope that Harry does too!

~Intriguing story/plot with lots of twists and turns to keep the reader guessing.

~Author Kat Ross has a writing style that flows so nicely, drawing the reader in through Harry's POV.

~Wonderful pacing made this novel almost impossible to put down.

~This is the perfect season for a supernatural mystery- with the cool weather and Halloween decorations popping up everywhere, it makes the read that much better

~Interesting time period. Something about the Victorian Era just lends itself to the paranormal. Anything seems possible and believable, especially with the rise of Spiritualism.

~Hints at Jack the Ripper- need I say more? One of the most enduring serial killer mysteries

~Jekyll and Hyde- a timeless classic re-imagined in this YA historical mystery.

~1st in a series- we know from the get-go that this is only the beginning!

Author Bio:

Kat Ross worked as a journalist at the United Nations for ten years before happily falling back into what she likes best: making stuff up. She lives in Westchester with her kid and a few sleepy cats. Kat is also the author of the dystopian thriller Some Fine Day (Skyscape, 2014), about a world where the sea levels have risen sixty meters. She loves magic, monsters and doomsday scenarios. Preferably with mutants.

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Pretty Wicked by Kelly Charron - Excerpt & Giveaway

Pretty Wicked

Kelly Charron

Publication date: September 30th 2016
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

The daughter of a local police detective, fifteen-year-old Ryann has spent most of her life studying how to pull off the most gruesome murders her small Colorado town has ever seen.

But killing is only part of it. Ryann enjoys being the reason the cops are frenzied. The one who makes the neighbors lock their doors and windows on a hot summer’s day. The one everyone fears but no one suspects.

Carving out her own murderous legacy proves harder than she predicted. Mistakes start adding up. And with the police getting closer, and her own father becoming suspicious, Ryann has to prove once and for all that she’s smarter than anyone else—or she’ll pay the ultimate price.

Written in a mature YA voice. Some graphic content.

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READ CHAPTER 1:

Some people are called to certain things in their life. That’s what hunting is for me. An urge. A desire. The closest thing I have to a calling.

My name is Ryann Wilkanson. I’m fifteen years old.

And I’m a killer.

It was hard to pick my first. Call me sentimental, but it had to be just right.

I knew what I wanted. What I needed. Someone worth the risk, the challenge. Somebody who deserved it. Now, I’m not talking about the horrible, abusive assholes you see on TV. I wanted someone who I thought deserved it…

And to be honest, that could’ve been just about anybody.

Some people might think it’s odd to contemplate killing someone, but it was the most natural thing in the world to me. I didn’t dare talk about it—I somehow knew that much—but my thoughts raced with vivid, red-tinted images.

While my fantasies were fun, I had to wait. I still lacked the skill and organization to actually go through with it.

And, as I matured, I realized part of me was still hesitant. A piece of the puzzle was missing. It was as though I was waiting for permission. Something to give me the final push into action.

Funnily enough, I got that that clarity six years ago, when I was nine. My dad thought he was simply giving me a ride to school, but he initiated the defining moment of my life.

I remember it like it was yesterday. He’d just come off nights and wasn’t in the best of moods when my mom asked him to drive me and Bri. I’d raced to the car first, winning shotgun, leaving Brianna to storm behind me. She was a sore loser, and it only made my grin bigger.

We were just a few blocks from the house when Dad started with one of his commentaries on all that was wrong with society.

“Jesus. People like that make me sick.”

We had stopped at a red light, and I spotted a guy standing on the corner with a sign that read Please Help.

At first I felt kind of bad for him, and I didn’t understand why Dad was upset. “At least he’s not dealing drugs,” I suggested.

“Brilliant observation. Maybe we could put that on a T-shirt for him,” Bri said. My father laughed and my stomach dropped. She never wasted an opportunity to make me look stupid.

Dad grunted. “Don’t be naïve, Ry. He’s probably scraping enough together to get his fix. People like that are after one thing—and it’s not a job.” He rolled his eyes, disgusted. Not a minute later, while we were still waiting at the light, a kid in a fancy sports car passed us. “See, look at that. Punk probably had it handed to him from Mommy and Daddy. He’s what—seventeen? Probably hasn’t worked a day in his whole goddamn life. Entitled brat. This is the problem with the world. You got two lazy bums on opposite ends of the spectrum, and neither are worth their salt.”

My father didn’t have a whole lot of empathy for anybody, and he certainly didn’t entertain excuses. I had to be the best if I wanted him to love me. “People need to either lead, follow—”

“Or get out of the way,” I finished. He patted me on the head. I knew this rant well and kind of understood my father’s reasoning. The homeless guy couldn’t even be bothered to walk up and down the rows of stopped cars to beg. He just stood there with an empty cup. He really was a waste.

I fought the urge to point out to my dad that I was nothing like those people—and never would be—but I knew he wouldn’t care. He loved me, but nothing I did seemed to impress him, especially since my older sister Brianna, the golden child, had perfected every- thing before I even had a chance to try.

I had to do something really big to make an impression.

I had to be a leader.

In the car, all those years ago, I realized that my desires could turn into something much more. Those entitled, useless people my dad despised were taking our hard-earned money, space, and air. And I was someone with deadly urges who wasn’t afraid to do something about it. Not everyone could say that.

But unfortunately, I would have to wait. I was much too young to execute my plans in the way I wanted.

My thoughts, however, were uninhibited, and I became enamored with the power and control that selecting the right kill could bring. The foreplay was intoxicating. I daydreamed about the countless ways I could do it. About all the places I could sneak up and strike. About the legacy I would leave behind.

For years I researched and studied serial killers— or as I liked to call them, The Greats. Most of The Greats hadn’t started until well into their adulthood. Call me an overachiever, but I wanted more kills in less time. I had all the qualities required: above-average intelligence, inside information (Dad was a cop), and a sweet cherub face.

But I also had something more. Tenacity. I knew what I wanted, and come hell or high water, I was going to get it. By fifteen, the thirst inside me could finally be quenched.

Cue my first planned victim—a snotty little brat who lived only a few streets away from me. Olivia McMann. Ugh. She was exhausting. Spoiled. Whiny. Brianna used to babysit her. I’d be dragged along because my parents usually worked overtime at their respective jobs. I was twelve and old enough to stay home alone, but they insisted. Like I had nothing better to do.

Brianna would be online with her friends or texting her boyfriend, and she’d stick Livy with me. Olivia wouldn’t leave me alone. One night she pestered me for hours on end until I lost it on her. Then she got the quivering lip and teary eyes and went crying to Bri.

Bri’s voice ripped across the room. “Ryann, what did you do now?”

“Nothing! Why do you always assume it was me? Maybe Livy is being a little crybaby over absolutely nothing,” I said, arms crossed tightly across my chest.

The brat came running up behind me. “You’re mean, Ryann. I hate you!”

I swept my hair into a ponytail and turned my back to her.

Death glare in full force, Brianna dug into me. “Why are you being such a pest? Leave Olivia alone already. Go find something to do, and don’t think for one second I’m giving you any of the money.”
She proceeded to get Olivia some licorice. A reward for her evilness. Maybe they were in on it together and shared private laughs while discussing different ways to torture me.

Brianna was seventeen at the time, and she hated me. No matter how hard I tried, she always dismissed me like I was an annoying pain in her ass.

“Not everything is my fault, you know,” I said, determined to stand my ground.

“Well, she’s not the one in my face right now. Go play with her for an hour until her bedtime, and maybe I won’t tell Mom.” Smiling smugly, Bri tilted her head. I wanted to punch her. As soon as we were out of her sight, Olivia stuck her tongue out at me and danced around, joyous in her victory.

“See, I told you I’d get you in trouble. I always get my way. You have to do what I say.” She laughed.

I promised myself I’d never forget.

Back then, I’d imagined choking her or holding one of her mom’s embroidered pillows over her face until her squirming stopped. I knew her parents were well-off. Only the best for their princess. Olivia was the type of kid who tantrumed, tattled, and fake-cried to get what she wanted, no matter the cost to anyone who got in her way.

Olivia was going to turn into the same kind of spoiled, manipulative bitch I’d seen time and again at school.

I knew how to deal with someone like her. After all, I had killed. Once.





Author Bio:

Kelly Charron is the author of YA and adult horror, psychological thrillers and urban fantasy novels. All with gritty, murderous inclinations and some moderate amounts of humor. She spends far too much time consuming true crime television (and chocolate) while trying to decide if yes, it was the husband, with the wrench, in the library. She lives with her husband and cat, Moo Moo, in Vancouver, British Columbia.

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Review: Shadow Fall by Laura Griffin + Excerpt & Giveaway

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Review: I received this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review

Sigh. I love that I-just-finished-a-great-book glow. Laura Griffin is a great author and doesn't disappoint with Shadow Fall. I'm known for devouring books in one sitting, and this one was no exception. I'm really glad I had a quiet afternoon, or I might have snapped someone's head off for interrupting :)

What I loved:

Liam -- oh, boy did I fall for this sexy security expert. Strong, diligent, sexy, he was everything I love in a romantic suspense male lead.

Attention to Detail -- whether explanations about Liam's work and how he operated or a look into the politics of local versus Federal law enforcement, everything was presented in an interesting way. When following an investigation, I want lots of information, all the nitty-gritty. It was all here.

Tara & M.J. -- An interesting duo. Strong characters willing to do what it took to solve a crime. Though they were quite overwhelmed at times, especially Tara-- between dealing with the local police and her growing attraction to the main suspect-- they just worked all the harder.

Balance -- There was a great balance between romance and crime-solving.

Character Development -- Ms. Griffin is a master at character development. Enough said.

What I didn't like as much... well, I suppose my short attention span is to blame, but I found myself skimming at times. The same attention to detail that I loved was too much every once in a while.

Overall-- a fabulous romantic suspense.

SHADOW FALL

Tracers #9

Laura Griffin

Releasing Sept 22nd, 2015

Pocket Books

In the ninth romantic suspense novel in the New York Times bestselling Tracers series, author Laura Griffin brings back her elite cadre of forensic experts as they hunt down the most brutal serial killer yet.

Special Agent Tara Rushing arrives at a grisly murder scene and quickly discovers she’s got a serial killer on her hands. The killer is meticulous, making sure to wipe up even the smallest traces of evidence…but the Delphi Center experts are on the case.

The local sheriff has a suspect all picked out—ex-Marine and current security expert Liam Wolfe. Despite all her digging, Tara knows very little about Liam when she shows up at his sprawling Texas compound, which serves as headquarters for Wolfe Security, and she’s surprised by her intense physical reaction to him.

As she and Liam grow closer, Tara finds herself depending on his skills and expertise to help her track a killer. But when another body turns up, Tara must decide if she can trust the man who’s quickly stealing her heart.

The ninth novel in the Tracers series that combines gripping plot twists with spine-tingling romance, Shadow Fall once again proves that “Laura Griffin gets better with each book” (The Romance Reviews).

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Tara looked out the window again and realized her pulse was still thrumming. He unnerved her. It wasn’t just his size, it was his attitude. Maybe she was self-conscious because he’d caught her off guard. She was definitely embarrassed that she’d pulled her weapon on him.

She adjusted the vent and got a waft of hot air. His attitude bothered her, but she liked his truck. It smelled like leather and earth and felt deliciously warm. She forced herself to ignore the flutter of nerves generated by being alone in the dark with him. The nerves weren’t from fear but something else. And she wondered which was worse, being afraid of a man she was investigating or being attracted to him?

“You shouldn’t come out here alone.”

She looked at him. “Why not?”

“We’ve got more than a few meth heads around here. You don’t want to walk up on something, not without backup.”

She watched his face in the dimness, uneasy with the protective tone of his voice.

“We confirmed the ID today,” she said.

“I know.”

That ticked her off.

“Won’t be long till the media has it,” he added.

“Where are you getting your information?”

He didn’t answer.

“And the other day,” she said, “how’d you know we were here, me and M.J.? Are you having us tailed?”

Even if he was, he’d probably never admit it. But she at least needed to ask and get his reaction. Shadowing investigators could definitely be considered suspicious behavior.

Although she had to be honest with herself. She didn’t consider him a real suspect. Despite his links to the victim, she simply didn’t feel it.

“I’m guessing you filmed us approaching your property and ran my plate,” she said.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Nothing that cloak-and- dagger.” He glanced at her. “I’m friends with Crystal.”

“Who’s Crystal?”

“She waited on you at the Waffle Stop. Bright red hair, eyebrow ring.”

She turned to face the window. “Small-town grapevine. And here I’ve been all impressed with your spying abilities.”

“You should be.” He pulled up to her Explorer and parked. “We’re the best there is.”

She looked at him in the darkness, so confident it bordered on arrogance. And the crazy thing was she believed him. She bought into it completely—he was that good.

His eyes locked on hers, and the air between them felt charged with electricity. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her heart skittered. Was he going to kiss her? He eased closer, watching her, making her heart pound.

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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author LAURA GRIFFIN started her career in journalism before venturing into the world of romantic suspense. She is a two-time RITA Award winner (for the books Scorched and Whisper of Warning) as well as the recipient of the Daphne du Maurier Award (for Untraceable). Laura currently lives in Austin, where she is working on her next book.

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Want to Find out More about the TRACERS series?

Tortured Souls Update

The release date for the ebook version of Tortured Souls has changed. Originally the release was scheduled for July 14th, but with a little luck, it looks like I'll be able to release it on July 1st instead. For those of you waiting on the print version, the expected release date is July 22nd.

More great news. The ebook will release for $0.99 on Amazon and run at that price through July 20th. After that it will be back to the regular price of $2.99. 

Now I'd like to share an excerpt:

Chapter One

Something Wicked

  

Deafening music shakes the walls, vibrates the floor, and pounds a rhythmic beat in my skull. Gyrating bodies turn every bit of space into a dance floor. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my heart races. Strobe lights flash, teens dance with wild abandon. Shrieking laughter bubbles around me.

“Gotta take a leak!” my dance partner shouts over the music.

He races off, weaving through the thick wall of bodies. Mike or Mick or something—I didn’t catch the name he yelled when he asked me to dance. Doesn’t matter, he wasn’t my type at all. I mean, the guy guzzled beer while dancing. After grabbing a diet soda from a nearby cooler, I’m about to search for my friends when a dark feeling washes over me. My feet refuse to move, and I stand rooted in place.

The once loud music is now hollow in my ears. I gasp for breath, choking on the lack of air around me. Tiny hairs on the nape of my neck rise to attention. Something wicked is behind me. I know I’m the only one here who feels a difference in air pressure. An oppressive weight presses against my skin, making me feel as though I’m underwater. I blink a few times, watching the people around me continue their manic dancing—oblivious to the bogeyman that just entered the room.

Afraid to turn around, I stand my ground, sipping my soda. I pretend I’m unaware of the shuffling noises behind me, sounds I shouldn’t be able to hear over the blaring music. Swaying my hips, I hum along with the music, trying to ignore the ominous presence crushing me.

Whatever it is, I can’t let it know I sense it. Evil pours off it in waves, blanketing the entire room. I close my eyes, willing the creature to go away, return to whatever mausoleum or grave it calls home. Malevolent spirits feed on fear. I must control mine at all costs.

When I open my eyes, I’m gazing into the face of an angel. Not literally, but he may as well be in my book. Logan glances behind me, and I know he sees the spirit. He doesn’t gasp or scream or faint dead away. His golden eyes narrow as though he’s in a staring contest with the specter.

“You’re not welcome here,” Logan says to the presence behind me. He meets my gaze again. “You know it’s there.”

It’s not a question but a statement. I nod, a weak bob of my head, unsure whether this intimate moment with my dream guy is a good thing or not. Meeting over a nasty phantom is not my idea of romantic. And yet I can’t stop staring at the way his blue t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders and chest—how his light brown hair curls around his earlobes. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. For six weeks I’ve wanted out of the friendship box with Logan, but I was hoping for girlfriend, not crazy girl.

Blog Tour: Obsession by Lisa Beth Darling - Excerpt & Giveaway

Obsession

Lisa Beth Darling

Romantic Thriller

Available at Amazon * B&N

Helen Makris tried to make a new life for herself in Tarrytown, Maine where she expected to quietly live out the rest of her days pursuing her passion of photography. She never expected to attract the attentions of Colonel Kevin Smith or those of The Shaw Street Strangler a serial killer hunting the young women of the picturesque New England village.

Two Second-Chance lovers both with painful pasts, Helen and Kevin grow closer as the bodies pile up until suspicion forms around Helen's new lover and his noticeable absences from town. As The Strangler zeroes in on Helen Kevin is determined not only to prove his innocence but to keep her from becoming The Shaw Street Stranger's next victim.

Come along for a spine tingling ride that descends deep into the diseased mind of a serial killer. This chilling suspenseful thriller will have you on the edge of your seat to the very last word.

Excerpt

At first, Helen balks at his touch.  Looking down at his strong hands, she sees them covered in blood and lets out a groan.  Then, before her bewildered eyes the blood fades away, soaks into his skin, and disappears.  She needs him now, needs him near, needs his strength and soon leans against him for support.  Support he offers with willing gratitude.  "S-s-sou-" she takes a deep breath and lets it out quickly forcing out the word as well, "Souvenirs," the slight tremble turns to a wracking shake as it shoots from her whirling head to her toes.  "Do you think he…takes…souvenirs?"

"What kind of souvenirs, sweetheart?"  Kevin gently sits her down, pulls the crocheted blanket from the back of the sectional and wraps it around her slender shoulders before taking a seat next to her. Brushing the hair away from her worried ashen face his heart sinks in his broad chest.  Taking up her hands in his he waits for her to collect her thoughts and answer him. 

Things are missing, lots of things are missing lately now that she's thinking about it.  She's blamed her aging mind and her own stupidity along with the washing machine but, "My glasses?  They were right there," she holds both hands out to the book on the coffee table, "I was reading the book, I was tired, I put it down, I put my glasses on top of it, and I went to bed.  I know I did.  In the morning they were gone."

Sheriff Natick opens his notebook as he takes a seat in the rocking chair by the fire but diagonally across from Helen.  "Anything else missing Mrs. Makris?"

Helen looks over at Kevin, leans in and whispers, "A pair of my panties…and the bra.  Would he take those?"

"Lingerie," Kevin says in a voice loud for everyone to hear, "panties and bra."  He watches Natick write it down before looking at her.  "Yes, he would definitely take those.  What else?"

"I think maybe some candles are missing and, well, the sash of my robe went missing."  They are all such small insignificant things.  Why would she think anyone was stealing them before now?  One thing wasn't quite so small or insignificant and the fact that she'd misplaced it upset her.  "My necklace," she looks over to Rafe, "the diamond and ruby one your father gave me for our twentieth wedding anniversary," she catches Anderson's gaze, "I went looking for it a few days ago and it's not in my jewelry box.  I thought it was just me."

Across the room Rafe let out a growling groan, "Anything else, mom?"

"Cologne," Helen whispers and holds Kevin's hands tighter, "sometimes I think, sometimes I smell, musk but it’s cheap not like your father wore, not really.  The smoke?"  Her eyes roll over to Kevin, their usual sparkle extinguished.  "It's not wood, is it?  It's pipe tobacco."

About the Author

I'm 47 years-old and I've been married to wonderful and talented husband, Roy, for the last 27 years. Together we've raised two beautiful daughters to adulthood right here in my hometown of New London, CT.

Through my full-length novels and series I strive to bring conflict, passion, love, and suspense to unique couples--how about a Greek God and a Fey, a retiring military man and an aging widowed hippie, a famous writer/director and a lonely hitch-hiker, or a b-grade actor and a very lucky first-time author? Since I'm never one to shy away from the less pleasant things in life, indeed I believe that it is in the Darkness where Character is created, determined, and defined, my heroes and heroines have their love tested by demons from within and without.

ALL of my works are intended for a Mature Audience Only this includes most of my non-fiction books. They are intended for those who like their reading on the dark and gritty side. They are not intended for the faint of heart or those who enjoy a sweet read.

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website:
http://www.moonsmusings.com

Blog:
http://lbdarling.wordpress.com 

Facebook:
http://facebook.com/lbdarling 

Twitter:
lb_darling 

Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1577311.Lisa_Beth_Darling

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