Great band. Great horns. Fun music.
Father, thank you for music, for musicians, singers, all using the gifts you've given them. May they honor you with those talents. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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Beneath the Grove by L.T. Ryan and C.R. Gray is Book 7 in A Maddie Castle Thriller.
Book 7 opens with Maddie accepting a case of a frantic mother wanting to find her adult missing daughter (Jasmine). It also picks up where Maddie left off emotionally in Field of Bones.
Maddie's boyfriend Bentley and her dad (Sam) hid some important things from her while trying to help find Bentley's kidnapped sister-in-law Daisy. Maddie finds it hard to forgive the depth of their deceit even though deep down she understands why they did it. She's refusing to talk to either of them, wondering if she can reconcile what they did.
Instead, after listening to the mother's, the brother's, and the ex-fiancé's details of the missing girl's life, Maddie decides to go undercover to the cult-sounding Willow Grove where Jasmine has landed.
What she realizes once she's inside Willow Grove is it's a weird place for vulnerable individuals who need a sense of community where what they do has some sort of purpose and alliance. However, what funnels this sense of belonging and loyalty to their suspicious, condescending leader and his wife (with everyone making up their own names) are homemade/homegrown drugs. Jasmine, it seems, has bought into it all.
Maddie plays her part well but is surprised by two major events before everything turns chaotic. There are discoveries, threats, a car chase, and a gruesome act that lands Jasmine in the hospital. When it's all said and done, there is hope for reconciliation for a family but disturbing and unresolved questions about the cult.
There is a bit of a cliffhanger in this book as well, but it's more of an interesting possibility that is a result of the previous rescue of Daisy and the newfound freedom and opportunities in her life.
(Profanity present.)
Father, you know us all from the inside out. You give us grace, mercy, and every opportunity to turn to you. You allow it to be our choice. May each one know you, that any and all talents and gifts are from you. Bless these authors, Lord, as only you can do. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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Devote yourself to prayer, being watchful and thankful.
Colossians 4:2 (NIV)
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From . . . in a love song
Four
Saturday morning at the supermarket buzzed with women and kids. He had to put a couple of things back when he figured there’d be too much to carry. He’d bring the Jeep after work on Monday.
Headed back to Eva’s, he spotted Pet approaching The Tavern from the opposite side of the street. She carried a large purse over her shoulder, walked briskly with her arms folded across her chest, and seemed more petite than she did behind the bar last night. Blue jeans and a short-sleeved white blouse tucked in with a black belt hugged what he could see of her. Dark brown hair curled around her face instead of being pulled back in a ponytail like it was last night. He picked up his pace, but there was no way he could catch up to her the way she was walking.
She stopped at the entrance and brought her purse down off her shoulder to grab keys. Just as she was about to push open the door, she glanced his way and hesitated. He kept his gaze steady, and she looked like she might wait for a moment but instead gave him a quick look of recognition and disappeared behind that bulky wooden door.
The connection made, he slowed his pace and felt the air warming. He hoped for early heat and a long summer. The scents of sagebrush and early-crop alfalfa reminded him of why he loved the country wherever it took him.
As he contemplated juggling the bags to grasp the door knob, Mrs. Johnson opened it wide for him and closed it behind him.
“Mr. Rivers, I was wonderin’ if you might do me a favor in your spare time.”
The woman didn’t mince words, and he decided he liked that about her. “Sure thing. If I can.”
“Why don’t you put your groceries away and I’ll be here when you get done. Alright?”
“I’ll be back down in a minute, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Eva, if you please, Mr. Rivers.”
Her shy smile at the request for informality surprised him. He smiled back at her and quickly took off up the stairs. Two sacks crammed full didn’t take up much room, and he was back down the stairs to the lobby in less than ten minutes.
Mrs. Johnson wasted no time. “Mr. Rivers, I had an old friend of mine rebuild me two new screen doors for my front and back doors, and I was hopin’ you might be able to put them up for me. One of my tenants took them down for me and loaded them in my pickup, but he’s moved on. They’re sittin’ out there in the truck whenever you might have time. I’ve got all the mountings in the basement sitting on the work bench. Since you’re in the construction business, you’ll appreciate Mr. Johnson’s tools, I’m sure.”
She sounded all business until she said her husband’s name and her voice wavered. He knew the man had passed away not too long ago and that he’d bought this big old home for his wife when he retired because she’d always wanted to make it into a rooming house. His new coworkers filled him in on all kinds of stuff about the town and people, but it briefly occurred to him that none of them had mentioned Pet.
“It’s Dale, ma’am, and I can do it right now if that’s alright with you.”
Her face lit up at his response, and she headed off, “Follow me then.”
The concrete basement with its winding path leading off to alcoves gave the necessary fortress-like appearance of a solid foundation for the huge house set upon it. Straight ahead a twelve foot long wooden work bench stood just as firm with every tool he’d ever seen mounted above it. Drawers underneath it were filled with screws and nails and drill bits.
“Was your husband a builder?”
“Not so much. A woodworker, though.”
That explained some of the fancy molding and extra features like his tiny closet and attractive cabinetry in his room upstairs. He could hear the hitch in her voice and moved the conversation forward. “Okay, then. Why don’t you show me those new screen doors, and then I’ll come back down here and get what I need.”
She led the way to the back parking lot where the doors were protected in packing material in the back of her red ’80 Ford 4 X 4.
“One of my favorite years for Ford pickups,” he remarked as he dropped the tailgate, easing the doors down flat.
She laughed briefly. “You and my husband seem to like the older models. Donald always said they had more muscle and durability.”
“Nothin’ like the old V-8s.” He gripped one door and eased it out of the bed, leaning it upright against the side of the truck. Across the brown packing paper, black permanent marker said “Front”.
He glanced at Mrs. Johnson once he had them out of the truck bed. “This shouldn’t take long, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Eva, Mr. Rivers.”
“Dale, ma’am.”
He picked up the proper one and carried it to the back porch, cutting the twine with his pocket knife and unwrapping the packaging.
“If there’s anything else you need, Mr. Rivers, I’ll be in the lobby. Thank you for this. I’ll make it right with you.”
“I’m glad to help out, Mrs. Johnson. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
“Eva,” she said quietly as she walked in the back door and closed it behind her.
“Dale,” he said with a smile when she was gone.
Father, thank you for every character, story, the words. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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When you're young and dumb and playing with your new Konica 35mm camera with black and white film. So fun.
"Nicole by Nicole" A very long time ago.
Father, you waited for me. I can never thank you enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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If you've happened by my blog recently, you might have noticed what I've been doing consistently throughout these summer days. And that is reading. I've reviewed most – but not all – of the novels I've read this summer. You can find their titles in the left-hand column under the "Archives." Most of them have been mysteries, some accompanied with the "thriller" description, and there have been some good ones in the bunch.
As most of you who know me understand I don't "normally" read cozy-mysteries. However, if the author's name is Karin Kaufman, I will always make an exception to that rule. Couple Karin's novels with Heather Day Gilbert's cozies, and I'm in. But those are pretty much it in that genre. Both Karin and Heather write in other genres and do them well! Visit the links to their websites. You'll be both impressed and enticed to read their work.
I suppose I'm reading so much because I'm not writing on my WIP. What can I say?
Father, you know my plight with this latest novel. I'm desperate for you. Apart from you, I can do nothing. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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Loved this song. Great lyrics. Gotta love the Bee Gees. It's just emotion!
Father, you've given so much to so many. Music is a meaningful gift. Thank you for those who can make it beautifully. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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Lie to Her by Melinda Leigh is Book 6 in the Bree Taggert Series.
Sheriff Bree Taggert is called to a scene where a dead man (Spencer) has been murdered with an ugly but specific signature. His body is discovered by his potential date for the evening, and she is obviously shook-up and mourning his death even though this is only their official third date. When asked if she knows of any family or other friends, she remembers he said he was close to his brother Jasper.
When locating and speaking with Jasper, there are several discrepancies that become apparent about Spencer.
The very next night there is another murder with the same signature, and the male victim is discovered by his near hysterical housekeeper.
What turns out to be the one thing the two men have in common is their use of dating apps which reveals a few common women in their mix.
Add venomous snakes to this crazy puzzle, and the Sheriff, her boyfriend Matt (Criminal Investigator), plus her deputies have their work cut out for them. While one woman stands out among the few, she lawyers up, and Bree knows they need more indisputable evidence.
This is a fluid, good mystery with plenty of interesting women and characters to sift through, but when the second murder scene becomes personal to Bree, she knows the killer is up to no good and wonders how or if he'll attack her family.
The Sheriff Bree Taggert mysteries are solidly written with interesting plots and simultaneous subplots and heartwarming family and extended family stories and issues.
(Profanity present.)
Father, thank you for your authors and writers. May each one know from whom their talents and gifts come. Bless Melinda as only you can do. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He will make your paths straight.
Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord and shun evil.
This will bring health to your body
and nourishment to your bones.
Proverbs 3:5-8 (NIV)
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Field of Bones is Book 6 in A Maddie Castle Thriller Series.
Maddie is finally free of paying cases and can devote her full time to finding her boyfriend's (Bentley) missing sister-in-law (Daisy Miller). She's been investigating what has turned out to be a kidnapping revealed through various clues on a writer's site that Bentley's daughter (Grace) discovered. It's a long convoluted story, but suddenly there is a breakthrough in communication. Maddie has enlisted her friend's (Detective Harper) insights and expertise along with any resources she can dig up.
What she and Harper discover they share with a Sgt. Torres, and he gets his department on it along with the FBI. What they learn is hideous, but it isn't until a hidden element in a library restroom opens up the truly horrific condition and extenuating circumstance of Daisy's captivity.
Between Sgt. Torres, Harper, and Maddie, they set out to interview every witness they can think of in the vicinity of what they've discovered so far. Maddie receives an anonymous tip to add information which proves to be true.
This is a story of perversion, cruelty, and psychopathy with a truly brutal antagonist. It concludes with a moral clash which any reader can understand. When evil reigns, our concern is justice. If lawful justice can't be rendered, is there an alternative?
This hits all the nerves to create a stunning mystery.
(Profanity present.)
Father, please continue to provide the stories you have just for LT and CR to write. Apart from you, we can do nothing. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
