Good Reads! #BookReviews

I’m the curator of the blog for my indie press and we periodically do a book review post. This time I got a plug in for Marcia’s delightful Wake Robin-Ridge series.

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What We’ve Been Reading Lately

by Kassandra Lamb (on behalf of the whole misterio gang)

Time for another round of book reviews from some of our misterio press authors. Most writers don’t get to read nearly as much as they’d like to, because so much time is taken up with their writing. So when we discover a really good book, it’s an extra special treat!

book coverKirsten Weiss ~ The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith (aka JK Rowling)

Supermodel Lulu Landry takes a swan dive off her balcony. Is it suicide or murder? Down-on-his-luck PI Cormoran Strike has been hired to find out.

The Cuckoo’s Calling, this first-in-the-series mystery novel by Robert Galbraith, aka JK Rowlings, is one of the best mysteries I’ve read in a long while.

Read more…  (including my review of Marcia’s books)

#MysteryGoneMad – #Coming Soon – Some News of My Own!

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I’m very excited to report that I’ve been invited to be included in a boxed set of six mystery novels. Yep! In the very near future,  Swamp Ghosts will be included in Mystery Gone Mad, a cool collection of crazy mysteries: Hard-boiled, soft-boiled, and just plain funny. I hope you’ll all stay tuned as things progress.

As soon as the set is available for pre-order, I’ll post the link. Pre-orders will be $.99. When the set is released, the price will be $2.99. Still a bargain price for over 1,400 pages of murder and mayhem.

 The authors include Anna Celeste Burke, Gerald Darnell, Viv Drewa, Judith Lucci, Marcia Meara (that’s moi), and Karen Vaughan. I’m pretty excited about the whole thing, as you might imagine, and I know you guys will help us get the word out.

Check out the cool trailer Gerald Darnell created for us: Mystery Gone Mad

And please stay tuned for more info, as it becomes available.

THANKS!

 

#FREE Today: #Harbinger – Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3

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FREE TODAY AND TOMORROW ONLY!
Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3

Just a quick reminder, the 3rd book in the Wake-Robin Ridge series is FREE today and tomorrow only.

The story of one man slowly being driven mad by guilt, while another grows closer to his very gifted son every day, Harbinger is full of love, laughter, and oh, yeah–shivers galore. Through it all, MacKenzie Cole  and that little boy named Rabbit form an unbreakable bond, as they work together to right a terrible wrong.

And remember, in the mountains, you can run, but you can’t hide! Not forever, and certainly not from the Black Dog!

Wake-Robin Ridge Book 1
A Boy Named  Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2
Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3

Things That Go Bump in the Night – Misterio Press – #TuesdayBookBlog

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The  Black Dog

I was invited to do a guest post at Misterio Press today, talking a bit about legends of the Appalachian Mountains, one of my favorite topics. It was a lot of fun to share with the good folks there, and I hope you’ll check it out, and share with your friends, as well.

Misterio Press Guest Post

#ExcerptWeek – Swamp Ghosts by Marcia Meara

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Since we got such a rush of excerpts at the end of last week, I extended it for another one, but now it’s gone quiet again. You know what THAT means, doncha? You’ll be getting more of MINE, again. 😀 Starting with this one from Swamp Ghosts, which hasn’t been feeling the love around around here, and demanded that I give it equal time. Maggie Devlin and Gunnar Wolfe have just met, when Gunn hired Maggie to canoe him into some remote waterways to photograph rare birds. Turns out, Gunn knows nothing about canoes or boats at all. Hence, the early morning lesson before their first foray into the black waters of the St. Johns. And did I mention, prickly Maggie doesn’t much care for the big guy. So far. 🙂 Enjoy!

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SUNDAY MORNING ARRIVED looking like a picture out of a travel brochure. A buttery yellow sun beamed down from a cloudless swath of blue sky, and the trees along the river were that jewel-like shade of green you only see in early summer. I watched Gunn as he surveyed the boat launch. “You sure you don’t want to do a dry run on land first?”

“Maggie, I’d feel silly standing over there under a tree, getting in and out of the canoe, instead of just launching it here, like anyone else. I’m sure I can do this.”

“Okay, Thor. Your funeral,” I muttered.

Gunn’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? Thor? Did you just call me Thor?”

I looked up from the cooler I was arranging in the stern of the canoe in order to offset his weight in the front. “Oh, please don’t tell me I’m the only one to ever call you that.”

He was put out. More so than I expected, though to be honest, I had been trying to get a rise out of him. His perpetual good humor was getting on my nerves this early in the morning.

“Actually, you are.” Now he had a definite scowl on his face.

“You’re kidding, right? I mean, look at you.”

He was growing redder, and his smile was ancient history, now. Hmmm. This was a different, and unexpected, side to Gunnar Wolfe.

“I beg your pardon? Look at me? What are you talking about?”

“Gunn, for Pete’s sake. You look just like the guy. You know? The guy from the Avenger movies?”

His mouth dropped open in astonishment, as though such a thought had never crossed his mind. “I don’t look like that guy!”

“Yes, you do. Exactly.”

“I do not!”

“Do.”

“Oh my God, Maggie. Just because we are both blond . . .”

“And huge.”

“And … big … doesn’t mean we look alike!”

He stomped back to the truck to get our floating seat cushions and paddles, muttering to himself every step of the way. Damn. I may have been trying to needle him a bit, but I didn’t expect it to be quite so successful.

We carried the canoe down to the area designated for launching smaller craft, and I pushed it nose first into the water, leaving the stern on the sand. I could tell he was still annoyed with me, but I figured it would be best to just ignore it.

“Watch how I do this.” I stepped into the canoe. “You have to be sure your feet are in the dead center, one right behind the other. You want to bend at the waist and hold onto the gunwaling—this aluminum edge around the top of the canoe—with each hand. Then you carefully walk forward bent like this, but remember to keep holding on for balance. Step over each thwart—these braces here—then step over the bow seat, and sit down. Once you’re sitting, I’ll push the canoe out, and we’ll talk about paddling. Remember, don’t let go of the gunwaling while you’re walking. Oh, and be careful to keep your feet centered directly over the keel. That’s this indentation right here that runs down the middle of the canoe.”

I straightened up, turning to get out and realized Gunn had that look on his face. You know … the one guys get when they are staring at your butt and don’t think you will catch them? But then you do, and they get this stupid, wide-eyed look of fake innocence that makes you want to smack them with a two by four? Yeah. That look. Continue reading

#ExcerptWeek – Harbinger by Marcia Meara

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Thought I’d squeeze in an excerpt of my own, if you guys will indulge me. This is a scene from Chapter 3 of  Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3. Hope it gives you a shiver or two, and you get a small hint as to the kind of man Cadey Hagen is, along the way. Enjoy!

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3:00 A.M. Sunday, March 2, 2014
Morganton, North Carolina

EYELASHES FROZEN, EACH gasping breath a snowy plume in the frigid night air, the boy ran for his life. Heart pounding, he scrambled up the wooded slope, terror driving him faster and faster.

There! Just ahead, a warm light glowed in a small window. Home. Safety. Only a few yards more.

He lurched forward, sure he was going to make it, now. His heart sang with joy, even as his foot slid on an icy patch of old snow, and he went down hard, knocking the wind right out of himself. The metallic taste of blood from his bitten tongue flooded his mouth, and for a moment, he couldn’t move. He was simply too tired to keep going.

No, no, no…get up. You got to get up. You’re almost there.

Desperation gave him a last burst of energy, and panting, he struggled to his knees. The woods loomed dark and silent around him, and he dared to hope he had outrun his pursuer. Then he heard it. A soft rumble at first, the sound built into a full-throated growl, coming from the last stretch of trees between him and his daddy’s tiny cabin. Somehow, it had gotten in front of him. He was cut off!

As he stared in horror, two glowing pinpoints of red appeared not ten feet away, growing steadily larger, as the beast stepped out of the bushes and into the moonlight. The dog was huge, and black as coal. And those fiery eyes stared unblinking, directly into his.

Whimpering, he felt a rush of warmth as he wet himself. He’d seen the Black Dog, and that meant it had come for him. He was going to die.

Somewhere in the dim recesses of his mind, he heard his aunt calling his name, but it was already too late. When Ol’ Shuck shows up to get you, it’s always too late. Still, she called, her voice coming from far away.

“Cadey? Cadey . . . ?”

He tried to answer, but could make no sound, and stood helpless, watching. Just before it leapt, the Black Dog’s lips peeled back, revealing long, gleaming teeth. Hot, foul breath washed over his face, as Ol’ Shuck opened its mouth impossibly wide, and Cadey tumbled forward into its reeking maw.

At last, he screamed.

“Cadey? Cadey? Wake up. You’re tearin’ all the blankets off the bed with your thrashin’ around. Come on. Wake up, honey.”

With a cry, Cadey Hagen bolted upright, head swiveling this way and that, as he recognized the familiar shadows of his darkened bedroom.

His wife of ten years was sitting up, as well, her face lined with concern. “Are you okay now? You were havin’ a bad dream, hon. Haven’t had one like that in a while, have you? You want to talk? Bet you won’t be goin’ back to sleep any time soon. I can make coffee, if you like. It won’t be any trouble, Cadey. How about I make some coffee for us, and you tell me about your dream? Would you like that?”

What he would like would be for his wife to shut the hell up and let him catch his breath. But of course, that wasn’t going to happen. The woman didn’t know how to close that mouth of hers, even when he asked her to.

“No, Vonda. No need to get up. I’ll be fine in a minute. Just go back to sleep, okay?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Where are you goin’? I mean, I really can make some coffee, if you can’t go back to sleep. I’ll be happy to get up with you.”

“Vonda, for God’s sake. Can I just go pee by myself? I’ll be back as soon as I’m done in the bathroom. I don’t want to talk, and I don’t want to listen to you talk, either.”

He glanced at the clock. “It’s three in the morning. No one drinks coffee at three in the morning, even if they’ve had a bad dream. Now go to sleep, dammit!”

To give her credit, she did shut up then, lying back down, but her hurt silence made more noise than her rapid-fire chatter. He knew if he didn’t apologize, the rest of the night would be a lost cause.

He patted her arm. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It was just the dream still hanging on. Really, I’m fine now. Just go back to sleep, and I will, too, when I’m done. We can talk tomorrow, if you want.”

She gave him a tremulous smile, nodded, and turned over, always ready to do his bidding. It was one thing he really liked about her. Maybe the only thing.

In the privacy of the bathroom, he sat on the closed toilet seat, and buried his head in his hands. The dream had really shaken him up, even though he’d been having it every three or four months for twenty years. You’d think it would have disappeared by now, or at least changed in some way. Or maybe, he could just once be smart enough to realize it was the dream, as soon as it started.

But no. That never happened. And every single time, it all proceeded exactly the same way, except for one odd thing. It was always the same season in the dream world that it was in the real one.

Other than that, nothing ever changed. The dream would start with him running through the dark woods, heart pounding, and desperation building, as he tried to make it back to the safety of his home. Every painful gasp, every terrified cry, the same each time, until he pitched forward into the foul-smelling darkness of that hideous mouth.

When his shivers subsided, he washed the sweat from his face, got a drink of water, and headed back to bed, where Vonda already snored softly. Hoping he’d have no trouble falling to sleep, he crawled in beside her. Only a few hours until he had to be at church, to take care of several tasks before his Bible study class got underway. Plus, there were items to get ready before regular services started, too.

Being the deacon at the Light of Grace Baptist church carried important responsibilities, and he wanted to be sure people noticed how well he carried them out.

~~~

Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3 is available on Amazon here, in both print and Kindle format. (Do be aware that  while it can be read alone, there are some things that will make more sense if you’ve read the preceding two.)

#FabulousFridayGuestBlogger – Umm? #MarciaMeara ?

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Sorry to say, folks, but my guest blogger for today did not send me her post, so I’m left either skipping it, like I did when this happened last week, or being my OWN “guest.” I chose Plan B. Here is an updated blog post I wrote last year for “A Woman’s Wisdom.” (I would link to it for you, but I can’t get in to that blog anymore.) So, I’m just going to run it anew here, and hope you’ll enjoy my ramblings. This is exactly how it happened for me, and something I believe in with all my heart. Enjoy!

It’s Never Too Late

We’ve all heard the phrase, “It’s never too late.” But how many of us really believe it? I suspect most of us are convinced that the dreams we once had are things of the past, and the path we ended up taking in life has led us too far in a different direction to make any of them come true now? A show of hands, please. Thought so.

Well, I’m here to tell you it just ain’t so. It’s never too late to change course, to follow that long-deferred dream, to live the life you really want to live. (Oh, and you can put your hands down, now, thanks.) But listen closely, because what I’m going to tell you is the Truth. With a capital T. You can take it to the bank. Continue reading

Mark Your Calendars, Florida Friends!

Don’t miss this! The decorations should be beautiful, and you’ll get a chance to meet several Florida authors (including moi!), who would be glad to discuss things ranging from Florida history to leucistic reptiles. We’ll all have books for sale, too,  and will be happy to sign them for you. Do some Christmas shopping that doesn’t involve the Mall. You’ll be glad you did! 🙂

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Road Trip!

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Me, Ready to Have Fun!

Off to Solivita Retirement Community, about an hour and a half south of me, below Kissimmee, for those who know Florida. (Pronounced Ki-SIM-me, for those who don’t. 😀 ) These good folks have a 200 member book circle spread throughout their very large community, though I’m sure there won’t be THAT many attending my presentation today. But it still has the potential to be the largest group I’ve talked to, so far, and I’m very excited about the opportunity.

My dear friend, Nicki Forde, is coming along for the event, and nothing makes me happier than a Road Trip with Nicki. She’s responsible for my beautiful covers, if you don’t already know that, and is a Graphics Goddess! We’re going to have a wonderful day! I’m always happy to talk about Florida wildlife, writing in general, and my writing, specifically, so it’s going to be fun, even if only one person shows up.

Off to load up the car. See you guys when I get back. Play nice. 😀 And post ’em if you got ’em…things to share that is.

I…am…outta here!

 

The #MysteryNovember Book Tour Day 16 @MarciaMeara

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Today, the #MysteryNovember tour bus swings by Florida to pick up Guess Who? Me! I hope you’ll stop by Rosie’s site to read more about me, and what I write. Plus, I’d really love it if you would ALL share Rosie’s  post (and this one)  far and wide. I’d VERY much appreciate it, as do all the writers who are being featured this month. Thanks so much, and enjoy reading.

The #MysteryNovember Book Tour Day 16 @MarciaMeara

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