About Death by Trauma
A Josiah Reynolds Mystery
Cozy Mystery
21st in Series
Setting - Kentucky
Publisher: Worker Bee Press (February 17, 2025)
Number of Pages 241
Digital ASIN: B0D68F1P4W
In the Bluegrass world of oak-cured bourbon, antebellum mansions, and Thoroughbred horse farms are secrets—deadly secrets!
Josiah Reynolds knows this with good reason. She’s solved many a murder, but Josiah prays that she does not stumble across another body. The stress is too much, and she is happy to be invited to a winter sledding party at Haze Corbyn’s home. Corbyn is a former syndicated critic for newspapers and magazines, who retired to the Bluegrass, dabbling in his love of horses.
The party is a kickoff for the Victoria Weathers’ film retrospective at a local theater. Miss Weathers is even coming for the showing of her first movie and Corbyn’s event. Josiah is excited to meet her movie idol, so it comes as a big surprise when Haze Corbyn turns up dead at his own party.
Kentucky is not called “the dark and bloody ground” for nothing!
Enjoy an Excerpt
Baby and I followed a faint trail
back to Haze’s home. It was the long way around but more level with only one
slight incline. I knew I could make it. Our footfalls made crunching sounds on
the virgin snow, as no one had trod the pathway since the large storm we had
before Christmas. Baby and I moved through a copse of Blue Spruce pine trees
until we came to a lake where the pathway separated. One fork went to the
stables and the other led to the house.
I stopped for a moment taking in
the beautiful scenery. Several Standardbreds were in the fields munching on hay
rolls, trees and fences were sprinkled with snow dust, crows called in the
distance, fog was rolling off the lake, and the sun caused the snow to sparkle.
Baby left my side and went over to
the small dock on the lake, sniffing.
“Come on, Baby. I’ve got to get
this snow out of my boots. My feet are turning to ice.”
Ignoring me, Baby barked, turning
in circles. Now English Mastiffs don’t usually bark unless they are upset.
Curious, I moseyed over to the
dock, being very careful as the wood was slippery. There was a set of footprints that ended at
the edge of the dock, but did not return off the dock.
That’s not what unnerved me
though. There was the sound of something bumping into the dock. The sound of
the knocking against the wood in the midst of the winter quiet was unsettling.
It filled me with dread. What was it?
Reaching Baby, I again told him to
sit. I didn’t need Baby to inadvertently knock me into the lake with his
powerful wagging tail.
Holding on to a post, I carefully
leaned over the side of the dock, peering into the foggy water, half-expecting
to see a dislodged branch or worse—someone’s unfortunate dog which had fallen
into the lake and drowned.
I blinked several times before I
gasped out loud as my brain did not comprehend what I was seeing.
Haze Corbyn was floating face down
in the freezing lake!
About Abigail Keam
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Great excerpt, thank you.
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