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Read an Excerpt: The Last Goodnight

October 25, 2021 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Spotlight tagged as , , , , ,

The Last Goodnight

Kat Martin

Kensington Publishing Corp.

October 26, 2021  

ISBN 978-1-4967-3679-6

Review of The Last Goodnight

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Excerpt

The Last Goodnight

Kat Martin

Kade Logan stood on the bank watching the sheriff and his deputies haul the mud-covered vehicle out of the lake. The crane groaned as the automobile tilted upward, the rear end lifting into the air, the front wheels dragging across the spongy earth. Brackish lake water poured out through the open windows.

For eight long years Kade had been haunted by the mystery of what had happened to the dark green Subaru that belonged to his dead wife. Her body had been found in a shallow depression in the hills at the base of the mountains outside Denver, but until now, eight years later, her car had never been found.

And her killer had never been caught.

“You okay?” Sam Bridger, Kade’s best friend, stood beside him, a tall blond man Kade had known for years.

“She’s been dead eight years, Sam. So yeah, I’m okay.” But the rage he felt had never lessened. It should have. At the time of her death, their marriage was already on the rocks. The second time Kade had caught Heather cheating, he had filed for divorce.

“Maybe they’ll find something in the car that’ll give them a reason to reopen the case,” Sam said.

“Maybe.” Kade hoped so. He wanted Heather’s killer found and punished. No matter how things had turned out between them, he owed her that much.

He glanced back at the car. The last time he had seen the dark green SUV was the night Heather had left him. That night, she had packed her things, taken the car, and driven away without a backward glance. Kade had never seen her again.

Since then, he had been tormented by guilt, had lived each day with a terrible sense of failure that he had never found the man responsible for her death.

Never made the bastard pay.

“I’ve seen enough,” Kade said. “I’m heading back to the ranch.”

“That’s it?” Sam asked, a blond eyebrow edging up.

Kade thought of Heather and felt the old rage burn through him. “Not by a long shot,” he said.

Eleanor Bowman sat at her oak desk near the front door of the office, a two-story brick structure on Acoma Street in Denver.

Photos of local wildlife hung on the walls, elk, deer, a big black bear, along with autographed photos of celebrities the company had done business with over the years. The faces of Tom Selleck, Clint Eastwood, Denzel Washington, and Kevin Costner looked down from sturdy oak frames.

Though most of the guys who worked at Nighthawk Security held P.I. licenses, Ellie and a woman named Skye Delaney were the only two female private investigators. Since Ellie had just finished a case, she was looking for something to do, hopefully something interesting, but work was work. She didn’t want her savings account to dwindle.

She looked up as the glass door at the front of the office swung open and a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a dark brown Stetson walked in. People thought of Denver as a western town, but it had been years since Ellie had seen a guy in a cowboy hat who looked like it belonged on him.

In crisp dark blue jeans that fit snuggly over a pair of narrow hips, brown lizard-skin boots, and a white shirt with pearl snaps on the front, the man removed his Stetson, revealing neatly trimmed, golden brown hair, and strode toward the desk closest to the door, which happened to be hers.

“My name’s Kade Logan.” He had a lean, muscular build, and the long, powerful legs of a bulldogger. His deep, masculine voice fit him as perfectly as his hat, and his hard, handsome face could rival any of the celebrities hanging on the office walls. “I have an appointment with Conner Delaney.”

“Yes, Conn mentioned he was expecting you.” Her boss, the dark-haired, handsome man who owned and ran the company. Ellie wondered if Kade Logan could possibly be the client Conn had in mind for her.

She smiled up at Logan. “His office is down the hall. Go ahead and go on in.” A little under five-foot-four, she was at least ten inches shorter.

Logan gave her a cursory nod, then strode off and disappeared inside Conn’s office. She wondered what kind of help he needed.

Ten minutes later, she found out.

“Kade meet Eleanor Bowman.”

His eyes narrowed, tiny sun lines forming in the corners. “You’re Eleanor Bowman?”

“I’m Ellie.” She smiled and stuck out a hand. “Pleasure meeting you.”

His jaw tightened an instant before he reached out and accepted her handshake.

He turned back to Conn. “Eleanor. With a name like that, I thought she’d be an older woman, someone with more experience. Either way, this is a bad idea.”

“What idea is that?” Ellie asked.

“Eight years ago, Kade’s wife was murdered,” Conn explained. “Her body was discovered in the mountains outside Denver, but the killer was never found. Two weeks ago, the car Heather was driving the night she disappeared was discovered in a lake near Coffee Springs. It’s possible the killer abducted her, dumped the car in the lake, then drove her somewhere else and murdered her.”

“And that’s the reason you want to hire me? To find out who murdered your wife?”

Logan’s gaze swung to hers. “First off, I don’t want to hire you. Conn thought it would be a good idea. He said your specialty is working undercover, but the last thing I need on my ranch is a female playing detective.”

Irritation bubbled up and her spine went straighter. “Did Conn tell you I was born in Wyoming? I was raised on the Grass Valley Ranch near Jackson Hole. Did he tell you I can ride just about anything you have in your remuda? And the weather doesn’t bother me. I know ranching, Mr. Logan. I can fit seamlessly into your operation. I can do whatever it takes to make people accept me and gather the information you need.”

Silence fell.

Conn Delaney’s lips twitched. “I think you can see why I thought Ellie was the right person for the job.”

A muscle worked in Logan’s square jaw. He raked a hand through his hair, mussed a little from the hat.

“I need some time to think about it.”

“Are you sure?” Ellie asked. “Because you’ve already had eight years to think about it.”

Kade’s golden eyes narrowed, seemed to burn into her green ones. “You really think you can do it?”

“If you want me to succeed, I’ll need straight answers to any questions I ask. If you’re willing to do that and if the information is out there, I’ll find out who it was.”

For the first time she caught a glimmer of respect in Logan’s eyes. “When can you start?”

“I can be there tomorrow, if we can figure out the best place for me to fit in. That way I’ll know what I need to bring.”

Logan’s hard mouth edged up. “You mean besides your pistol?”

“You better make that plural.” Ellie flashed him a phony smile. “Remember, Mr. Logan, I’m from Wyoming.”

New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin, a graduate of the University of California at Santa Barbara, currently resides in Missoula, Montana with Western-author husband, L. J. Martin.  More than seventeen million copies of Kat’s books are in print, and she has been published in twenty foreign countries.  Fifteen of her recent novels have taken top-ten spots on the New York Times Bestseller List, and her novel, BEYOND REASON, was recently optioned for a feature film.  Kat’s new novel, THE LAST GOODNIGHT, a Romantic Thriller, will be released in hardcover on October 26th and is the start of her new Blood Ties series.  


More Books by Kat Martin

THE LAST MILE

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THE LAST MILE

THE LAST GOODNIGHT

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THE LAST GOODNIGHT

THE PERFECT MURDER

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THE PERFECT MURDER

COME MIDNIGHT

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COME MIDNIGHT

THE ULTIMATE BETRAYAL

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THE ULTIMATE BETRAYAL

PIVOT

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PIVOT

SHADOWS AT DAWN

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SHADOWS AT DAWN

THE CONSPIRACY

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THE CONSPIRACY

BEYOND DANGER

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BEYOND DANGER

THE DECEPTION

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THE DECEPTION

BEYOND REASON

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BEYOND REASON

WAIT UNTIL DARK

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BEYOND CONTROL

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BEYOND CONTROL

You can read a review of The Last Goodnight here.

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Researching for Authors

October 20, 2021 by in category Ages 2 Perfection Online Class, Online Classes tagged as , ,

Researching for Authors

Presented by: Margaret Bates
Date: November 1 – 30, 2021
Pricing: A2P Member fee: $15
Non-A2P Member fee: $30

About the Workshop:

Research can feel overwhelming. For some of us, it’s been years since we’ve dug deeply into a topic, but sometimes you need to know more to add realism to your book and worldbuilding. 

In this class, we’ll talk about how to make a research attack plan, how to use library databases and university research sources, how to understand and read journal articles, and even the approaches for speaking with primary sources, like experts in the field. Similarly, we’ll learn about the interviewing skills you can use to talk to subject matter experts, like doctors or firemen…etc. for getting the deepest realism in crafting your heroes and heroines. Finally, we’ll discuss the risks of the “research rabbit hole” and when to stop gathering information and commit to start writing after you’ve done your due diligence. 

So, if you’re interested in deeper world building, more realism in your work, and learning how to get those details you need to write a successful novel, this is the class for you!

About the Presenter:

Margaret Bates was Magna Cum Laude in psychology as an undergraduate at Duke University. During her undergraduate work, she spent six months as an intern at a state hospital for schizophrenics in La Paz, Bolivia. During her graduate work, she spent five years working toward a Ph.D. in developmental psychology with an emphasis in autism intervention therapy and was everything but dissertation at The University of Alabama at Birmingham. In December of 2020, she finished her Master’s thesis in industrial/organizational psychology at The University of Baltimore with a focus on meaningfulness in life and healthy psychological functioning. She’s spent most of her life researching and can’t wait to teach you how to as well.

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Mindset, Motivation & Well-being A to Z for Writers

October 20, 2021 by in category Ages 2 Perfection Online Class, Online Classes tagged as , , ,

Mindset, Motivation & Well-being A to Z for Writers

Presented by: Joy Held
Date: November 1 – 30, 2021
Pricing: A2P Member fee: $15
Non-A2P Member fee: $30

About the Workshop:

Mindset, Motivation & Well-being A to Z for Writers presents a host of suggestions for overhauling your writing life inside and out. Some of the topics will resonate and some will need to percolate for a while, but everything from coping with anxiety to applying zero-based thinking can potentially recharge your existence until you are unstoppable in every aspect. These premises apply to more than just writers, but the creative juices needed to produce stories is more draining than it looks. These concepts could be the missing ingredient you’ve been searching for. 

The course will present the ideas and offer outside readings or internet links to explain each one. Course participants will be encouraged to post experiences and thoughts.

About the Presenter:

Joy E. Held, A.A.S., B.A., M.F.A. is an author, freelance editor, educator, Yoga Alliance Registered yoga and meditation teacher, college English professor, certified Journal to the Self facilitator, and workshop presenter with over 500 articles published in trade magazines, newspapers, and literary journals. Her historical romance novel Message to Love was published in 2010 by The Wild Rose Press. Her nonfiction book Writer Wellness: A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity, third edition is available from Headline Books, Inc. Joy is a member of Romance Writers of America, Hearts Through History Romance Writers, Northeast Ohio RWA. She holds degrees in education, journalism, and an M.F.A. in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. 

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Glamor Girl Blitz

October 6, 2021 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as , , , ,

 

 

 
 
 
Historical Fiction

 

 

Date Published: 10-06-2021

 

 

Publisher: Indies United

 

 

 

 

Escaping from her childhood, Sheela, flees her aunt’s motel where she is forced to work as a cleaning maid and provide ‘favors’ for wealthy guests and winds up in Miami in Kit Malone’s fancy brothel. Beautiful and stately, Sheela becomes a high-class prostitute, a millionaire’s mistress and a Billy Rose showgirl. When she meets the love of her life in Manhattan, the charming but naïve Julius Clark, life blossoms into something both frightening and titillating. But when Sheela gives birth to her daughter, Fanny, it is this shadowy and stormy relationship that alters the course of both of their destinies and defines their future.

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Vera Jane Cook was born in New York City and has been a city girl ever since. As an only child, she turned to reading novels at an early age and was deeply influenced by an eclectic group of authors. Before Jane became a writer, she worked in the professional theatre and appeared on television, in regional theatre, film and off Broadway.

 

At the age of fifty Jane began to write novels. Some of her titles include Dancing Backward in Paradise, winner of an Eric Hoffer Award for publishing excellence and an Indie Excellence Award for notable new fiction, 2007. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater and Dancing Backward in Paradise received 5 Star ForeWord Clarion Reviews and The Story of Sassy Sweetwater was named a finalist for the ForeWord Book of the Year Awards. She has published in ESL Magazine, Christopher Street Magazine and has written early childhood curriculum for Weekly Reader and McGraw Hill.

 

Jane still lives on the upper west side of Manhattan right near Riverside Park, where she takes her delightful dogs, Peanut and Carly, for a jog,. She comes home to her spouse of thirty years and her two cats, Sassy and Sweetie Pie.

 

 

 

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Zither! Book Tour

September 23, 2021 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as , , ,
 

 

Metafiction/Humor/Mystery

 

Date Published: April 20th, 2021

Publisher: Zither Studios

 

 

 

A nutty religious cult abducts a herd of prime gazebos (huh?) and it’s up to bumbling P.I. Mars Candiotti to rescue them. Mars, aspiring author, chronicles his quest in Jeffrey Hanlon’s comic mystery Zither

 

 Guided by his magically prescient IHOP waitress, Mars strives to mitigate the shocking global consequences of the gazebo heist, even though he has no idea what the word mitigate means. Mars has five Important clues with which to solve his confounding mystery: Butterscotch, John Travolta, Trombones Venetian Blinds, and Wind Chimes. 

 

 As Zither swallows its own tale, Mars finds it increasingly tricky to distinguish between real people and his rambunctious fictional characters. Zither becomes the romper room where his reality meets fantasy – and get frisky with each other. 

 

Using his (odd) clues, Mars’ international odyssey leads to an explosive conclusion in Panama. TVs around the world tune in to watch live coverage of “Carnage in the Canal”. 

 

Amid the lunatic havoc that is Zither there is (of course!) an epic love story as Mars meets Marian, the brainy librarian he had dreamed of. Marian says his books are “slapstick existentialism with subjective reality couched in parable”. (This is news to Mars). But is Marian real? 

 Is any of it real?

 

 

 

 
 
 

“Hanlon’s humor shines bright and will leave fans of such madness wanting more.” Publishers Weekly 

 “This zany, rollicking mystery adventure is as compelling as it is hilarious.” Independent Book Review 

 Nominated for the prestigious Audie Award, Best Fiction 2021

 

About the Author

 

I was born in a Southern California beach town. 

 
My family moved to Northwest Oregon when I was 7. Or maybe when I was 8. 
 
Had we stayed in the Beach Boys town, and knowing myself as I do now, I suspect I would have grown long hair, started a rock band, and been heavily into drugs. The rock band would probably have been pretty good. The rest of it, not so much. I’d likely have joined the ranks of those like Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin. 
 
We moved to a mountaintop. The last five miles to get there were gravel. The final two miles were steep and to the end of the road. 
 
That’s where we lived: the end of the road, 22 miles to the nearest town. 
 
Our closest neighbor, about a mile down the road, was a hermit who lived in a shack. He had a goat. About once a month the goat would visit us. Then the hermit would show up to retrieve his goat. I think the goat liked us better than the hermit, which is why the goat kept showing up. Goats are funny animals. I think they aspire to be house pets. 
 
And speaking of animals, we had cats. Lots and lots of cats. Because we were remote and at the end of the road, unkind people – and ‘unkind’ is the kindest description I can use here – would dump their unwanted cats on or near our property. The cats would find our house. We gave them Fancy Feast and our love, and in turn they loved us. 
 
My childhood friends didn’t visit too often. That was at least partly because when they did show up my father would say something like this: “Great! We have a job that could use an extra hand. Won’t take more than five minutes.” Well, that five minutes usually turned into an hour or two – volunteer labor! – and that friend would seldom visit again. 
 
So my favorite childhood playmate was a 2000 pound Hereford bull, a big boy with horns spanning three feet. I’d go out in the pasture and the bull would strike a pose not unlike what you’ve seen in the movies where the bull was ready to charge, head down, eyeing me. But he wasn’t going to charge me. He just wanted his forehead scratched. And so I would scratch his forehead. He liked that, shaking his head every so often to show his approval. Then we’d elevate to a game that the bull might have called ‘Let’s see how far we can toss this little kid!’ and I’d place my right hip against his massive head and he’d toss me into the air like a sack of flour. Over and over, farther and farther, higher and higher. I could have done that for hours – I can fly! – but after a few tosses the bull would grow bored with the game and wander off. Probably to chase some cute heifers. 
 
The nearest library was 30 miles away, and we ventured there often. It was a majestic old building, and the Grand Room had books on all four walls with reading chairs in the center. But that was not where I wanted to be. I figured all those books were popular books or books I was supposed to read. I wanted something different, so I would enter the room with a small sign that said ‘Stacks’. It was row after narrow row after row of books, floor to ceiling, dimly lit, dusty. It was like entering a cave. Filled with treasures! 
 
It was in those Stacks that I discovered the likes of Kerouac and Heller and Huxley and Fowles and Steinbeck and Ellison and Bradbury and Hemingway and many many others. 
 
As Stephen King said, “Books are a uniquely portable magic.” 
 
And those, each in their own way, was the inspiration for the first book I wrote at the age of eight or nine: ‘Pond Scum’. 
 
It was illustrated.

 

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Zither!

Jeffrey Hanlon

Excerpt

As nightfall approached, we prepared.

Pete disguised himself as management, putting on a nice Men’s Wearhouse suit with a bleeding turnip lapel pin.

I disguised myself as Britney Spears.

At the stroke of midnight, Pete and I left his house and headed for the St. Francis Yacht Club.

As contrived luck would have it, Benny Tisdale had left the cabin on his dumb boat unlocked.

In stealthy fashion, Pete and I went below.

“I’ll shine the flashlight and listen for footprints. You find the varnish,” Pete said.

It took no time at all to find Benny’s Man O’ War. Actually, it took a bit of time, but you know what I mean.

As Pete held the light, I donned my surgical gloves and placed Benny’s Man O’ War in my black op bag.

“Easy as taking candy from a drowning man,” Pete whispered.

I nodded.

Pete said, “It’s dark in here, Mars. If you’re going to nod, warn me so I can shine the flashlight on your head.”

“Okay, Pete. We’ll make that a new rule.”

As we prepared to exit in stealthy fashion, Pete shined his flashlight around the cabin, then said, “Mars, look at this big wooden crate.”

I looked at the wooden crate. It was big enough to hold a Barcalounger.

“I’ll bet it’s filled with ill-gotten booties,” Pete said. “Or a Barcalounger.”

He handed me the flashlight and pried open the crate’s lid with a crowbar.

It was not until some time after dark that we took courage to get up and throw the body overboard. It was then loathsome beyond expression, and so far decayed that, as Peters attempted to lift it, an entire leg came off in his grasp . . .

“Peters?” Pete said. “Do you mean Pete? Me? What body? What leg?”

“Sorry. That’s Edgar Allen Poe, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym.

“What’s Poe doing in this chapter?”

I shined the flashlight on my shoulder and shrugged.

He snatched the light back, looked in the crate, and said, aghast, “We’ve gotta get outta here quick, Mars! This boat could blow any minute!”

I looked inside the big wooden crate.

Here is what was in there: hundreds, probably thousands, of Steven Seagal movies.

We’d be lucky to get out of there alive. Seagal movies have a tendency to bomb.

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