Guatemala Paula Loves to Read
Friday, April 26, 2024
Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: The Fallenwood Chronicles by Leslie D. Soule
Book Blitz & Giveaway: Magical Elements of the Periodic Table Presented Alphabetically by the Elemental Dragons (Magical Elements of the Periodic Table, #2) by Sybrina Durant
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Three Strikes, You're Out (Eddie Shoes Mysteries, #3) by Elena Hartwell
The Eddie Shoes Mysteries
by Elena Hartwell
March 18 - April 26, 2024 Virtual Book Tour
*One Dead, Two to Go
Book One in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series
Private Investigator Edwina “Eddie Shoes” Schultz’s most recent job has her parked outside a seedy Bellingham hotel, photographing her quarry as he kisses his mistress goodbye. This is the last anyone will see of the woman … alive. Her body is later found dumped in an abandoned building. Eddie’s client, Kendra Hallings, disappears soon after. Eddie hates to be stiffed for her fee, but she has to wonder if Kendra could be in trouble too. Or is she the killer?
Eddie usually balks at matters requiring a gun, but before she knows it, she is knee-deep in dangerous company, spurred on by her card-counting adrenaline-junkie mother who has shown up on her doorstep fresh from the shenanigans that got her kicked out of Vegas. Chava is only sixteen years older than Eddie and sadly lacking in parenting skills. Her unique areas of expertise, however, prove to be helpful in ways Eddie can’t deny, making it hard to stop Chava from tagging along.
Also investigating the homicide is Detective Chance Parker, new to Bellingham’s Major Crimes unit but no stranger to Eddie. Their history as a couple back in Seattle is one more kink in a chain of complications, making Eddie’s case more frustrating and perilous with each tick of the clock.
**Two Heads are Deader Than One
Book Two in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series
Private Investigator Eddie Shoes is enjoying a rare period of calm. She’s less lonely now that Chava, her card-counting mom from Vegas, is sharing her home. She also has a new companion, Franklin, a giant dog of curious ancestry.
Hoping for a lucrative new case, Eddie instead finds herself taking on a less promising client: her best friend from her childhood in Spokane. Dakota has turned up in Bellingham, in jail, where she is being held on a weapons charge. Eddie reluctantly agrees not only to lend her friend money for bail but to also investigate who is stalking her.
Soon after Dakota is freed, she disappears again, leaving Eddie to answer to the local cops, including her ex-boyfriend Chance Parker. Has Dakota been kidnapped? If not, why did she jump bail? What are Eddie’s business cards doing on the bodies of two murder victims?
The key to these mysteries lies in Dakota and Eddie’s shared history, which ended when Eddie left home after high school. As a person of interest in both murder cases, Eddie is forced to go in search of the truth, digging into the past and facing her own demons.
Three Strikes, You’re Dead
Book Three in the Eddie Shoes Mystery Series
Private investigator Eddie Shoes heads to a resort outside Leavenworth, Washington, for a mother-daughter getaway weekend. Eddie’s mother, Chava, wants to celebrate her new job at a casino by footing the bill for the two of them, and who is Eddie to say no?
On the first morning, Eddie goes on an easy solo hike, and a few hours later, stumbles over a makeshift campsite and a gravely injured man. A forest fire breaks out and she struggles to save him before the flames overcome them both. Before succumbing to his injuries, the man hands her a valuable object. He tells her his daughter is missing and begs for help. Is Eddie now working for a dead man?
Eddie wakes in the hospital to find both her parents have arrived on the scene. Will Eddie’s card-counting mother and mob-connected father help or hinder the investigation? The police search in vain for a body. How will Eddie find the missing girl with only Eddie’s memory of the man’s face and a photo of his daughter to go on?
Praise for The Eddie Shoes Mysteries:
"ONE DEAD TWO TO GO is a well-written fast-paced story that kept me fully engaged from beginning to end. It’s one of those stories where you get to the end of a chapter and think, “Okay, just a few more pages.” And the next thing you know, you’ve read three more chapters."
~ Mayor Sonni, Readeropolis
"…an engaging mystery that will keep you stumped to the very end."
~ Susan Sewell, Readers’ Favorite
"THREE STRIKES, YOU’RE DEAD gives us another vivid adventure with the quirky, genuine private eye Eddie Shoes. As usual, author Elena Hartwell’s characters are so real you feel like you could run into them at your local dive bar. Three Strikes takes us even deeper into Eddie’s complex family relationships with her charming-but-deadly father Eduardo and hilarious mom Chava, giving us further insight into Eddie’s psyche. The laugh-out-loud moments are many in this vital third installment, and you’ll find yourself wishing you could stay longer in the world of Eddie Shoes."
~ LS Hawker, USA Today bestselling author
Book Details:
Genre: Private Eye Mystery
Published by: Open Road Media, March 2024
Series Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Read an excerpt from One Dead, Two to Go:
CHAPTER ONE
Call me Eddie Shoes.
Not a very feminine moniker, but it suits me. My father’s name was Eduardo Zapata. In a fit of nostalgia, my mother Chava named me Edwina Zapata Schultz, even though by the time I was born she hadn’t seen my father in seven months. Edwina was a mouthful to saddle any child with, so at the ripe old age of six, I announced that I would only answer to Eddie. I didn’t have any nostalgia for a guy I’d never met, so Zapata just seemed like a name no one ever spelled right the first time. Chava wasn’t particularly maternal in any conventional sense, so not a lot of nostalgia for Schultz either. At eighteen I legally changed my name to Eddie Shoes.
It said a lot about my sense of humor.
Chava and I had come to an understanding. She stayed in my life as long as our contact was minimal and primarily over email. It was just enough to allay her guilt and not enough to make me crazy, so it worked for both of us. She’d always been down about my choice of career, but what did she expect from a girl who called herself Eddie Shoes? If I hadn’t become a private investigator, I probably would have been a bookie, so she should have been a little more positive about the whole thing.
My career was the reason I sat hunkered in the car, in the dark, halfway down the block from a tacky hotel, clutching a digital camera and zoom lens, waiting to catch my latest client’s husband with a woman not his wife. I’d already gotten a few choice shots of the guy entering the room, but he’d gone in alone and no one else had arrived. I assumed the other woman was already waiting for him. After tailing the guy for a few days, I had a pretty good guess who the chippie would turn out to be. I didn’t think he’d hired his “office manager” for her filing skills, and sleeping with the married boss was a cliché because it happened all the time. I could already prove the man a liar. He’d told his wife he played poker with the boys on Wednesday nights, and I didn’t think he was shacked up in this dive with three of his closest buddies, unless he was kinkier than I imagined.
But then, people never ceased to amaze me.
December in Bellingham, Washington, often brought cold, clear weather and that night was no exception. Starting the engine to warm up sounded tempting, but I didn’t want anyone to notice me sitting there. Nice it wasn’t raining, but if the thermometer had crept much over twenty, I hadn’t noticed. To make matters worse, I’d scrunched my almost six-foot frame down in the driver’s seat for more than two hours. Even with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I was half frozen, and desperately hoped my mark didn’t have more stamina than I’d pegged him for. All I wanted was to go home and go to bed.
And at some point, I would need to pee.
Up on the second floor, the door of the hotel room I had my eye on finally opened. I brought my camera up, ready for the money shots. My earlier pics proved that the dirty white stucco on the side of the building bounced the pale glow from the minimal exterior lights enough for pictures to be clear without a flash. Even from this distance, there was a nice unobstructed view of the location. The only barrier between someone standing on the narrow walk and my camera lens was a flimsy, rusty-looking, wrought-iron railing. The balusters looked too thin to stop anyone from falling the height of the first floor to the asphalt parking lot below. I doubted anything at the tawdry place passed code.
But what did I care? I wasn’t going to stay there.
The “liar”—I have always been creative with nicknames—stepped out, straightening his tie. I snapped a few pictures and held my breath, hoping the other woman would come out behind him. Even if I took pictures of her exiting a few minutes later, the husband needed to be in the picture with her. A surprising number of wives would argue with me about what actually took place in these various, if interchangeable, hotel rooms. For some reason they would rather believe the info about their husband cheating was fake than admit he strayed, which confused me because I got paid either way. It felt especially crazy when they must already know the truth, otherwise they wouldn’t have hired me in the first place. But I knew better than to look for logic in the ways of the human heart and got the best evidence possible.
The man turned sideways. Light from the room behind him threw his face into silhouette. He had an exceptionally generous head of hair, which made him very recognizable even in bad light. Mid-forties, and mostly in good shape, he appeared athletic as long as he didn’t unbutton his sport coat. I could see why women were attracted to him, though he didn’t do a thing for me. I preferred men a little more honest.
But then, I’d never been married, so what did I know?
A figure moved from behind him into the shadow of the doorway.
“Come on, honey, step out into the light.” I held the camera to my eye. “One more step, so I can see your face.”
The woman obliged by leaning into the cold blue glow cast by the old style, energy inefficient streetlights, her cheeks stained red in the flash of the vacancy sign. I happily clicked away as the “office manager” wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. She clearly wore nothing but lingerie. She must assume no one else would be out this late on such a cold weeknight. Or maybe she enjoyed having people see her, a bit of an exhibitionist in the happy homewrecker. Whatever the cause, she had him in the perfect spot for the best pictures.
I loved it when guilty people made my job easy.
My photos might not be art, but they were gold in my book. No way the wife could believe this was anything other than what it looked like.
Several photos later, the husband extricated himself from the mistress and she ducked back into the room and closed the door. He walked briskly toward a shiny red Chevy Camaro. The guy owned a GM dealership and drove a new car every day. He lit a cigarette, which he puffed on for a few drags before he tossed it into the gutter. Not just a cheater, a litterer. The bastard. The cigarette stench backed his poker party story and covered the smell of another woman, killing two birds with one cancer-causing stone.
As soon as he pulled out onto the street, I stretched back up to full height, relieved to still feel my feet. I started up my ancient green Subaru Forrester, cranked my heater, and headed for home, relieved I didn’t have to wait around in the cold for the mistress to reappear. Whatever she did next wasn’t my concern. Having the two of them in the pictures together convinced me my work was done.
The hotel was located downtown—the blue-collar north end, not the high-priced, brick, historical south end, so I dropped down to Lakeway Drive, scooted under the freeway, and wound through the streets that curved around Bayview Cemetery. Traffic at ten o’clock on a midweek winter night was light, and I arrived at my little house by ten-thirty. I downloaded the photos from the hotel onto my computer, wrote up a final bill for my client, and went to bed content.
What could possibly go wrong with such an easy case?
***
Excerpt from One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell. Copyright 2024 by Elena Hartwell. Reproduced with permission from Elena Hartwell. All rights reserved.
Review:
Excitement abounds when the whole “Shoes” family gets involved!
Three Strikes, You’re Dead is the third book in the excellent and fun Eddie Shoes Mysteries series by Elena Hartwell, and this time, Eddie’s entire family gets involved in a case with a misplaced body of a father murdered while searching for his missing daughter. As the main characters continue to sort out their relationships with each other, Eddie’s latest case puts everyone’s lives on the line.
PI Eddie Shoes is at a good place in her business and developing relationships with her mother, Chava, and long-absent father, Eduardo, until, of course, her relaxing vacation with her mother at a beautiful western Washington resort turns out to be anything but. Away from Bellingham and out of Chance Parker’s orbit, she can also examine their status with a clearer head. Her tense flight through the national forest ahead of a wildfire is heart-stopping, and the continued guilt she harbors over her unsuccessful attempt to rescue an injured man is heart-wrenching. Eddie overthinks her actions and takes on responsibilities that aren’t necessarily hers in all her cases; she cares about people.
When Eddie lands in the hospital, her father arrives to lend his support to both her and Chava. Eduardo has been such a mystery so far in the series, and while all his secrets aren’t revealed, readers get a much closer and more in-depth look. This man is smooth and proves to be a great asset to Eddie. While I love Eddie and Chava, I have become more and more partial to Eduardo.
Injured herself, Eddie is still determined to find the body of the man who asked with his dying breath for her to find his missing daughter. When fire and law enforcement personnel fail to find his body, they begin to doubt the man ever even existed. Eddie’s investigation must focus first on trying to identify the guy and figuring out where his body went.
The plot is complex, with Eddie having few clues in her possession as the dead man’s or his daughter’s identity. Making the rounds of nearby properties or likely places migrant workers might gather yields little, but you’ve got to start somewhere. The presence of a hunky firefighter, Jake, becomes an interesting distraction. I should have known better when all roads seemed to point in one direction, and I was surprised by the final outcome of both the investigation and Eddie’s contemplation of her future. I can’t wait for the next adventure in this series.
I recommend THREE STRIKES, YOU’RE DEAD to mystery readers
who enjoy a strong female protagonist and humor in their stories and fans of
the previous books in the series.
Author Bio:
Elena Hartwell spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com.
Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, Jasper, Radar, and Diggy, their dogs Polar and Wyatt, and their cats Coal Train and Cocoa. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia.
She also writes as Elena Taylor, to learn more visit www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com
Catch Up With Elena Hartwell:
www.ElenaHartwell.com
TheMysteryOfWriting.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @elenahartwell
Instagram - @elenataylorauthor
Twitter/X - @Elena_TaylorAut
Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor
Tour Participants:
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Tuesday, April 23, 2024
Review Tour & Giveaway: DEADLY. SET. VEGAS. (Vegas Victory FC, #1) by Vanessa M. Knight
Publisher: Inked Publishing
Publication Date: April 9, 2024
Page count: 280 pages
SYNOPSIS:
“Hold up,” a graveled voice called through the door. A lock tumbled with a scrape and the door flew open. “What?”
Craig stood in the doorway wearing a faded Van Halen T-shirt and sweatpants with air-conditioning holes at the knees and hip. Eyes half-closed. Scruff lining his face. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was homeless. He took one look at Kennedy and the door flew toward her.
Kennedy’s arm blocked it from hitting her in the face. “Can we talk?”
“Why?”
“Your brother was murdered.”
Craig’s normally stoic face morphed into sadness. This was a man in mourning. “Can I come in?”
He looked behind him and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? I just have a few questions.” When he didn’t budge, she kept going. “I want to find out who did this. Don’t you want that?”
He squinted at her. “Of course, I do. He was my only family.”
“You have Darcy and the kids.”
“They don’t like me very much.”
“Maybe they just don’t know you. If you want me to tell them the truth, I’ll listen.” And she would. She needed to get to the truth by any means necessary. Even listening to a jilted brother.
Craig opened the door a smidge, barely letting Kennedy in. She turned her body to squeak by. Inside, plastic covered every inch of, well, everything. Tinfoil lined the windows. This was not the residence of a playboy with hooker tendencies.
Craig twisted the lock closed and open, closed and open, closed and open. Then he stopped on closed. He motioned to a pleather couch covered by a plastic sofa cover. “Have a seat.”
The seat crinkled and popped when she sat on the shiny material.
“I didn’t kill my brother.”
“I didn’t think you did.” She couldn’t say that with conviction. There was something not right here. But Craig seemed to buy it. He sat in a chair across the room and relaxed. Kennedy leaned forward. “If you didn’t kill him, who did?”
“You won’t believe me. No one does.” He ran a hand through the scruff on his chin.
“Try me.”
“The aliens have been watching me for years.”
Ummm… Kennedy wasn’t sure what she expected to happen. But she could honestly say aliens weren’t anywhere near the top of her list.
An intriguing plot with a fresh, professional female detective.
DEADLY. SET. VEGAS. is the first book in author Vanessa M. Knight's new series, Vegas Victory FC, set in Las Vegas, Nevada, and featuring off-her-assigned patch Chicago cop, Kennedy Romero. Don't let the fabulous but cutesy cover fool you! With its stand-out professional sleuth as the main character and a surprisingly angry and violent murder scene, this book falls into the traditional mystery or crime fiction genre more than the perhaps anticipated cozy.
The main character, Kennedy Romero, is in Las Vegas to visit her best friend since college and maybe escape the mess her work situation has devolved into. She's a bit different from the norm of female police detectives having a backstory often used with male gumshoes. A wild party girl during her college days, a relapse with alcohol while working a homicide in Chicago had landed her in a desk job and out of CID. She agrees to investigate her best friend's husband's murder because she feels she owes it to Darcy (and to get both of them off the suspect list.) She's not perfect, but she's good at what she does and honest with herself and others when she does misstep.
The plot takes off immediately, with the murder occurring before the book's opening. The crime scene is gruesome, and Darcy, who found her husband's body, remains covered in his blood for the entirety of the initial phases of the investigation, creating quite a visceral atmosphere from the start. As the story unfolded, red herrings and twists in the plot that kept me highly engaged.
The relationship between the two besties felt realistic and current, and their banter was often humorous; everyone deals with grief differently. Some of the talk and discussion among characters got a bit raw: just another clue that this wasn't a cozy mystery.
I recommend DEADLY. SET. VEGAS. to mystery and crime fiction
readers.
I write contemporary romantic suspense.
I live in Chicagoland with my family and menagerie of four-legged friends. In my mind, these lovely animals do everything as they should. I’m the alpha, keeping peace and harmony amongst my humble servants. In real life, they own me. I’m the maid, here for their feeding pleasure. Well, that and to clean up their messes.
When not catering to the needs of adorably-furry faces, I slug through the nine to five grind and head home so I can write. Of course, that’s after I make dinner and clean the house and all the other tasks that go into family life. So really, I work, cater to animals and my family… and then, if I don’t fall face first into bed, I write. I love putting my characters into crazy situations and watching how they react. I hope you love reading about them.
I love to hear from fans. I can be found on Facebook at VanessaMKnight and at www.vanessamknight.com.
Reveal Blitz: The Closed Tunnel by Anthony Harold
The Closed Tunnel
Anthony Harold
Publication date: October 8th 2024
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction, Suspense
Ink & Cinema Official selection Best First Ten Pages 2023, USA.
Based on real materials.
What if we told you that 3,000 feet underground is a network of high-tech cities connected by tunnels? Yes, right now.
The main character of this story, Tony from New York, accepts a job from the strange head of a pharmaceutical company. It takes him first to the National Geophysical Research Lab on Long Island and then—unexpectedly!—underground.
He finds himself in Luxor Ville, the city of the elite, and explores Hearton City with genius scientists presumed dead or missing on the Surface.
Meanwhile, in the ancient tunnels, the world’s greatest physicists are conducting an unbelievable experiment that should redefine our understanding of the laws of the universe…
Why are the richest people buying up the last subterranean luxury apartments? How are NASA and Neil Armstrong connected to the underground world? How does the hostess of the Elusive Cafe predict the future?
And is there a common secret that unites Hearton City’s inhabitants, or is it an illusion?
Feel the forgotten vibe of the TV series Lost, unlock a jar of puzzles in the wave of The Da Vinci Code, and prepare for a journey into the depths like in Wool/Silo!
The Closed Tunnel units author’s own inventions, suspense, fantasy elements, physical experiments connected to Montauk project, mystery and thriller, fashion (!), real underground wonders, and a pinch of spice.
There are diverse characters, multiple POVs, Elusive Cafe, ancient board game, scientifically created oracle cards, and a central question: whom to trust.
Author Bio:
Anthony Harold is the author of the upcoming sci-fi sensation The Closed Tunnel. This book explores underground cities connected by ancient tunnels and will hit shelves in April 2024.
Anthony holds a Master's degree in Physics and a Ph.D. in Economics. He has an impressive background of nearly 15 years in the space industry, including developing space-based laser systems and managing finances for a leading rocket company.
Anthony dislikes most modern movies due to plot holes, so he prefers to read and, better yet, write. He's passionate about delving into the mysteries of Earth, exploring ancient history, and studying the wonders of techno-civilization.
Currently living in Cyprus with his grown son, a lively Jack Russell terrier, and his talented wife, who doubles as his editor and marketer, Anthony enjoys spending his free time on the tennis court, jogging along the coast, or fishing.
Book Blast: Murder A La Mode AUDIOBOOK (Coffee & Cream Café Mystery, #1) by Lena Gregory
Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries
1st in Series
Setting – New York
Publication Date: April 23, 2024
Publisher - Tantor Audio
Listening Length - 7 hours and 10 minutes
ASIN: B0CZFBCBG7 / Audio CD ASIN: B0CZ2MCHGC
Page count: 197 pages
ISBN-13: 979-8853281721 / Digital ASIN: B0C2LH144G