Tell us a little bit about yourself. How did you get into writing?
I have been a journalist all of my life, so writing is just part of my DNA. I have been a news journalist for radio, TV, newspapers, and even my own regional magazine that I wrote and published for 4 years before selling it. I have also been a documentary film maker, garnering numerous prestigious awards for my work. I worked for one of the national television news organizations for years as a White House journalist, covering every President from Ronald Reagan to the first year of Donald Trump. All of that kept me so busy that I never had time to write for pleasure. But, now that I am semi-retired from that career, the books that I have pushed into a dark, dusty comer of my mind are starting to spill out.
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What inspired you to write your book?
Murdered For Nothing was inspired by a real-life crime that I covered as a young journalist in Rochester, New York back in the late 1980’s. Over a 48 hour time span, two men killed five people in robberies that netted them less than a hundred dollars in cash and stolen items. It’s one of many chilling stories I covered over the years, and I’m finding that writing these stories is a sort of cathartic exercise for me. By putting these memories into written words, I am dealing with a head full of wild experiences I have had as a journalist.
What theme or message do you hope readers will take away from your book?
I think the message to be drawn from this story is that not only does crime not pay, but it leaves behind a trail of broken hopes and dreams for every one who is touched by the crime. Another theme in Murdered For Nothing is that everyone has a dark side that taints their actions. This might be a bit of a spoiler alert, but there are no “White Hat” characters in the book. Even the characters with the best of intentions are motivated by personal agendas. That doesn’t mean they don’t do the right thing in the end, but they don’t do it without thinking about themselves, too.
What drew you into this particular genre?
My personal experience as a journalist. I think it gives me a unique perspective on crime stories that most writers don’t have. It’s one thing to sit in front of your computer and create imaginary crimes. It’s quite another to write a story based on the personal experience of having been a front-line observer to a real crime. Although the characters in my book are works of fiction, they represent the real emotions and actions that played out in this story. This fictional account is very personal to me.
If you could sit down with any character in your book, what would you ask them and why?
This is a challenging question, because I have so many questions for every one of them. I think the most intriguing character is defense attorney Maxine Levine. Aggressive, driven, smart and sultry beyond reason, she’s the person everyone wants to be (or be with). Nicole Martin, the sister of one of the victims, displays a calm and insightful grasp on humanity that is beyond admirable. Homicide detective Dave Walters’ story leaves so many loose ends that the book raises more questions about him than it answers. Then, of course, there’s the television journalist caught up in the story from start to finish. Since the character is very loosely based on me (I wish I was as cool as he is), I have already been asking him questions for decades, never getting any clear answers. But in the end, I would want to (and actually did!) sit down with the two criminals to try to understand why they were willing to trade the lives of five people they knew for so little.
What social media site has been the most helpful in developing your readership?
Well, Facebook is still the elephant in the room. I am also partial to Linked In because I find it draws the kind of people who read books. It may be a smaller audience, but they are more likely to respond. It’s not exactly a social media site, but Goodreads is also a good place for writers and readers to get connected. I have an authors page on Goodreads, and anyone can ask me questions there. I don’t Tweet. I used to, but the excessive vitriol on that site drove me away.
What advice would you give to aspiring or just starting authors out there?
A writer writes. Sit down in front of the computer and write something. Every day. It doesn’t matter if, at the end of the session, you press the delete button and walk away. With every sentence you form, you improve your writing skills. Someday, that novel will pour forth from your head, and you will amaze yourself.
What does the future hold in store for you? Any new books/projects on the horizon?
My future holds many walks on the beach in Tamarindo, Costa Rica, which is where I now call “Home”. When the mid-day sun rises high in the sky, I make the ten-minute walk back to my domicile where it is cool. I sit down in front of the computer and write until the approaching sunset draws me back to the beach. Often, when I return from bidding adieu to the sun, I’ll sit down and write some more. Sometimes, all night.
Yes, there are many books to come. I have already written a book titled “Plan A Never Happens”. It’s the true story of how my wife Carmen and I completely upended our lives to move from the Washington, DC area to Costa Rica right in the middle of a worldwide Covid-19 pandemic. I’m currently working on another crime novel based on one of the most notorious crimes in US history. I actually started writing this one several years ago. Life got in the way of finishing it, but I am returning to it now. And, of course, there will be at least one more book based on some of the charcters in Murdered For Nothing. More will come beyond that, but they are mere thoughts at the moment. I will be writing until they pry my cold, dead fingers from the keyboard.
I discovered my life’s mission by the time I was five years old. My parents bought me an instant print camera for my birthday, and the fact that I could freeze a moment in time and keep it forever was enthralling. It sent me on the path of journalism. In the all too numerous decades since then, I have fulfilled that calling as a television news journalist, documentary film maker, magazine publisher, web content writer, and now author.
My work has been seen on every major television network, on the silver screen, and in that little screen you carry in your pocket. I guarantee you have seen some of my work. I have won uncounted awards, including an EMMY, a Peabody, a Jules Verne International Scientific Documentary Award, and on and on. I also had the pleasure to produce two documentaries for NASA, one for the 40th Anniversary of the Apollo moon landings, and another one celebrating the 50th anniversary of the formation of NASA.
After all of those experiences…from crashing in a helicopter, being shot at, and threatened with arrest in places where I didn’t speak the language, to telling jokes with every President from Ronald Reagan to Barack Obama…I have realized that my brain is full. It is time for me to blend this amazing lifetime of memories with an overactive imagination in order to sweep some of this accumulation out of my mental attic. The result is my bold foray into the world of being an author. I have written millions of words before, but they have always been based in fact. Now, I’m blending fact with fiction in a unique way. I am writing ficticious novels based on real events in such a way that you, my dear reader, will be left wondering which part was fact, and which was fiction. To be honest, sometimes I’m not even sure.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A woman who begins having an affair with an acclaimed author finds her world in peril as her lover is found dead, and she must keep her affair a secret and prevent herself from being implicated in his murder in author Seraphina Nova Glass’s “Such a Good Wife”.
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The Synopsis
From the author of Someone’s Listening comes another thriller that will leave you breathless, about a housewife implicated in a murder investigation, perfect for fans of The Last House Guest and Someone We Know.
Melanie Hale has the perfect life. Her husband, Collin, is a loving and supportive partner and she loves their small-town home just outside of New Orleans. She doesn’t mind (too much) that she’s given up her career dreams to care for her two beautiful children. It’s all worth it.
So why, when she joins a writers’ group for fledgling novelists, does she embark on a steamy affair with Luke, a local bestselling author who gives a talk during the group? Why does she go back to Luke again and again, when she knows it’s wrong?
And then Luke is found dead, and Mel knows she was the last person to see him alive. Now, she not only has to keep the affair a secret, but somehow avoid being implicated in Luke’s death. But who would want to kill him? And if Mel finds the truth, will she be next? What follows is a sinister cat-and-mouse game that will leave readers guessing until the very last page.
The Review
A truly fantastic and engaging thriller! The author does a great job of fleshing out these characters early on, especially protagonist Melanie Hale. The author immediately sets up the narrative with Mel’s discovery of Luke’s body, and the horror of the moment quickly is underscored by the reality of the lies that she had begun to live with. Yet atop the background of her home life and showing the moments that led to her affair, the author has done an amazing job of layering the background with shocks and suspense that makes the murder itself only one of the shocks this novel holds in store.
What really stood out to me was the writing itself. The author does a phenomenal job of not only setting the tone and suspense a novel like this deserves but balances both the reality of having an affair with the more cinematic imagery that the writing invokes. So much of this novel felt like it could become the next Gone Girl, and Mel’s evolution over the course of this novel will keep readers hooked.
The Verdict
A brilliant, thought-provoking, and heart-pounding thriller, author Seraphina Nova Glass’s “Such a Good Wife” is a must-read novel of 2021! The twists and turns the narrative takes throughout this book are a wild ride, and the twist that Mel’s character takes towards the book’s final act will keep readers breathless as they eagerly await this book’s finale. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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About the Author
Seraphina Nova Glass is a professor and playwright-in-residence at the University of Texas, Arlington, where she teaches film studies and playwriting. She holds an MFA in playwriting from Smith College, and she’s also a screenwriter and award-winning playwright. Seraphina has traveled the world using theatre and film as a teaching tool, living in South Africa, Guam and Kenya as a volunteer teacher, AIDS relief worker, and documentary filmmaker.
Here is an Exclusive Excerpt from “Such a Good Wife”
Two
Before
I can pinpoint the day that set everything in motion. Gillian Baker, one block over, holds a book club at her house once a week. Reluctantly, and at her insistence, I finally decided to join. I squeezed a cylinder of cookie dough out of its plastic tube, cut it into disks and put a tray of the artificial-tasting dough in the oven so I had something to bring and pass off as my own. Collin thought the book club idea was great and might inspire me. I told him it’s just a kid-free night for the neighborhood wives so they can drink wine and make vapid, uninformed comments on great literature, but he still thought I would be in my element and should give it a try.
I was going to be a scholar once upon a time, but I dropped out of my master’s program when we learned about Bennett’s condition. I wasn’t forced to stay home, but we decided it made sense. It was for the best, and even better than a degree, because I could write books from home and still pursue that dream. What a gift! All the time in the world to write the great American novel. Except I haven’t written any books, have I? What the hell do I really have to say anyway? Life has gone out of its way to ignore me in many regards. Shelby Fitch two doors down was in the peace corps in freaking Guatemala for two years before she married into this neighborhood. She should write the book.
What will my topics be? “Mom cleans up kid’s barf during carpool.”
“Mom waits half a day for dishwasher repair guy, and guess what? He never shows.”
“Mom tries a Peppa Pig cake recipe from Pinterest, but it looks like deranged farm swine with a phallic nose and makes son cry.” I have nothing to say. The other day I thought I’d get serious again and try to really sit and brainstorm some ideas. I ended up watching videos of people getting hurt on backyard trampolines and a solid hour of baby goats jumping around in onesies. So, I guess maybe at least getting my mind back into the literary world can’t hurt.
At my dressing table, I pulled my hair back and slipped on some dangly earrings. It was my first time out of yoga pants that week, and it felt nice. I applied lip gloss and pressed my lips together; I could hear the chaos begin in the background. The oven was beeping nonstop, beckoning Collin to take out the premade dinner he’d been heating up for the kids, but he was arguing with Ben about a video game he refused to turn off. He still had to make a plate for Claire and help the kids with homework after dinner, and Ralph, our elderly basset hound, was barking excessively at something outside, raising the tension in the room. I felt guilty leaving, but when I appeared in the front hall in a sundress, Collin lit up and gave me a kiss, telling me he had it under control. I knew he ultimately did. It’s not rocket science, it’s just exhausting and emotionally bloodsucking, and he’d already had a twelve-hour day of anxiety at work.
I kissed the top of Ben’s head and said goodbye to Rachel, who was paying no attention, and then I walked out the front door. I carried the plate of cookies and a copy of The Catcher in the Rye as I walked across the street. They were trying too hard, trying to be literary. Why not just choose Fifty Shades or a cozy mystery? When Rachel had to read this book for English, she called it a turd with covers. I, on the other hand, spent hours making meticulous notes so I could be sure to make comments that were sharp and poignant. I rehearse them in my head as I walk.
I was the last to arrive; there were a few other moms from the block already there. We all did the obligatory cheek kisses. Gillian’s living room looked like she was hosting a dinner party rather than a book club. Chardonnay was chilling in ice on the kitchen island next to a spread of food that could have come from a Vegas buffet. I wished I could hide my pathetic tube cookies.
“Wow, Gill. Did you do all this?” I asked, impressed.
“Oh, hell no. Are you kidding? It’s catered, silly.”
I can’t believe she’s had her book club catered. Everyone has wine and something fancy on a toothpick in their hands. She put my sad cookies next to the beautiful chiffon cake on the island, and I was mortified. There was cling wrap over them for God’s sake—on a Spider-Man paper plate left over from Ben’s last birthday. Kill me.
She poured me a glass, pretending not to think anything of my trashy offering, and I walked carefully over her white rug as we made our way into the sitting room. Of course she has a “sitting room.” It’s a bright space in the front of the house with vaulted ceilings and a blingy chandelier. We all perched on the edges of pale furniture. I never did quite know how to feel about these women. They’ve welcomed me so warmly, but they sometimes seem like a foreign species to me. Yes, I live in this neighborhood too, but it’s because of Collin’s success, not anything I’ve done. I guess they can probably say the same. I still feel sort of like an imposter. I don’t lean into it the way they seem to.
I didn’t intend to stay home, of course, but I still feel like I was destined for a career, never dependent on anyone else. It’s not that I feel dependent on Collin. That’s not the right word. What we have is ours. The way I contribute is something he could never handle, but I guess I don’t take it for granted the way they seem to. Gillian was constantly remodeling her house and upgrading things that you’d think it impossible to upgrade. She had a stunning outdoor kitchen next to a pool that appears damn near Olympic-sized. It was even highlighted in the local home tour magazine. One day she gutted the whole thing because she wanted the pool to be teardrop-shaped instead. And here I am using Groupons for my facials.
Even that sounds indulgent. Facials. I grew up in a doublewide trailer in Lafayette with a mother who worked the night shift at the hospital and an alcoholic father who spent his days quiet and glassy-eyed on the front porch, staring at some invisible thing, lost in another time. It will never feel right to buy five-hundred-dollar shoes or drive a luxury car, although I’d never want to lose the safety of it and I’m grateful my children will never have to struggle the way I did. This comfort is for them. This safety is for them. That’s the bottom line, so I brushed away the negative thoughts.
Tammy commented on Gillian’s bracelet. She held Gillian’s wrist, examining it. Everyone oohed and aahed as Gillian explained that it was an early birthday gift from Robert and she had to get it insured. I have never understood charm bracelets. An ugly soccer ball hangs off of her silver chain, but I made my face look delighted along with the others. After we settled in, I assumed the small talk was over and we’d dig into a great piece of literature. Kid-free, wine-lubricated, I was ready.
“Oh my God, you guys, did you see Bethany Burena at Leah’s wedding?” Karen asked. There was mocking laughter. I’d been at that wedding, but I didn’t know what they were referring to, so I stayed quiet. Liz chimed in.
“God, it looked like someone stuffed a couple honey-baked hams into the back of her dress.”
“And the worst part is she did that on purpose,” Tammy said, placing her glass of wine on an end table so she could use her hands to talk. “That ain’t too much buttercream, y’all!” Then she held her hands to her mouth and pretended to whisper sideways. “Although did you see her shoveling it in at the cake table?”
“She had those babies implanted,” Karen agreed.
“No!” Gillian gasped.
“Yep. Ass implants. Ass-plants.” Everyone roared with laughter. I forced a chuckle so I didn’t stand out. I hated these people, I realized right in that moment. I longed to leave. I could fake a headache, or check in at home and say there’s a problem with Ben, I thought. Why didn’t I? Why do I need their approval? Karen kept the gossip going.
“That’s not as bad as Alice. She brought the guy who cleans her pool to the wedding!
“What do you mean?” Liz asked.
“As a date.”
“No!”
“Scandal much?” Tammy was delighted she had everyone in hysterics.
“Alice Berg?” I asked, not understanding the social sin she’d committed. “Isn’t she single—like, divorced, I thought.”
“Yeah, but she brought The. Pool. Guy. Sad.”
“So sad,” Karen echoed.
“Desperate,” Liz added. She noticed the book in my hands. “What’s that?”
“What do you mean? It’s the book,” I said with a lighthearted scoff.
“Oh, Mel. I’m so sorry I didn’t mention it, I guess I thought everyone just sort of got it—especially since the book was something so random,” Gillian said.
“Got what?”
“We don’t, like, read it. We just need an excuse to get rid of the kids and hubbies for one night. I think we deserve at least that?” she said, glancing around for allies.
“Damn right we do.” Liz held her wine up and gulped it down, a sort of toast to herself. “You didn’t read it, did you?” I didn’t answer. I felt like an idiot. I was joking when I said it was an excuse to drink and have a night away. I was at least half joking. I thought that I may have found a few kindred spirits, perhaps—that they were at least making a half-assed attempt at self-betterment.
“I just skimmed it,” I said.
I was probably visibly blushing, so I picked a strawberry carved into a rose shape from the table and picked at it.
“Mel has a master’s in literature. Did y’all know that?” Gillian said, maybe in an attempt to redeem herself from indirectly embarrassing me.
“Oh my gosh, smarty-smart pants. Look at you.” Karen swatted my leg and smiled, supportively. I wanted the attention off me as soon as possible, so I didn’t correct her and say that it was creative writing…and that I never finished the degree.
“You should give me the name of your caterer,” I said, picking up a skewer of chicken and taking a bite. “I was gonna do a thing for Collin’s birthday. Maybe a trip, but if we stay in town we’ll have people to the house.” The subject is officially changed. Her eyes lit up.
“Oh my gosh, I have their card. I told them they should pay me for how many referrals I’m getting for them. Their almond torte is totally to die for. Seriously. If you don’t do a cake, maybe mini tortes.”
“Oh, cute!” Liz said.
We talked about mini tortes, whose phone carrier is the worst, Karen’s daughter’s (nonexistent) modeling career and Botox for the next two hours until I walked home unsteadily with my plate of cookies that Gillian gracefully sent home with me. I had to laugh a little at the idea that they met weekly, like they’d read that much. Made sense now. I tossed The Catcher in the Rye in Brianna Cunningham’s garbage can, which she’d failed to pull back into the garage (Tammy actually made mention of that particular oversight earlier in the evening), and I didn’t know if the crushing disappointment of the evening was worse than going back home to Claire’s bedpan and the mounting stress of teen angst and Ben’s moods. I wished I could just sit in the Cunninghams’ yard, drunk for a little while, but someone would see, and it would be discussed at some other neighbor’s book club.
The temperate dusk air was dense with mosquitoes and the chatter of crickets. I took my time walking back. When I approached our house, I saw Collin in an orange rectangle of warm kitchen light. He was washing dishes, sort of, but mostly looking past the kitchen island at the TV in the living room. I concentrated on appearing more sober than I was as I entered the kitchen. I sat at the table, pulling off my shoes, and he offered me a glass of wine.
“No, thanks.” I got up and filled a plastic Bob the Builder cup under the tap, then sat on a counter stool. He pulled one up next to me.
“Was it fun?” he asked, hopefully, wanting me to find an outlet—some joy in my life while things are so tough. I didn’t know if I should tell him the truth or make him happy, so I went down the middle.
“It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Eh. Not exactly the literary minds I was hoping to connect with.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed my hand. “I took Ben to pick out a new chapter book at Classics tonight.”
“Oh fun. What did he pick out?” I asked, thinking Collin was changing the subject.
He handed me a little postcard advert. “There’s a writers’ group starting next week.”
I looked over the glossy square and it had details welcoming any local writers to join the weekly Thursday group to workshop their writing. Before I could dismiss the assertion that I’m a “writer,” he pointed to the bullet point that stated “all levels welcome.” It was so incredibly sweet that he brought this for me, not only to encourage me in pursuing something I care about, but was also willing to hold down the fort every Thursday. I kissed him.
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“But?” he asked, anticipating a “no,” but I didn’t have a reason to say no. I mean, except that I had no writing to present to the group. I could write a critical essay on The Catcher in the Rye. That was about it. It sounded thrilling though. Maybe some accountability and pressure would be just what I needed. I glanced past Collin into the living room and saw Bennett asleep in front of WWE SmackDown! on the TV. I gave Collin a look.
“Well, he’s asleep, isn’t he?” he defended himself. Ismiled and shook my head, pressing my thumb into the crumbs on his plate and tasting the remnants of the cookies I left behind for the kids to eat.
“I guess I can try it,” I said, standing and rinsing the plate. Words I’d give anything to take back.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A young detective and ambitious FBI agent must work together in order to stop a mysterious serial killer before he disappears again in author Allison Brennan’s “The Third to Die”, the first in the Quinn & Costa aka Mobile Response Team series.
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The Synopsis
An edgy female police detective… An ambitious FBI special agent. Together they are at the heart of the ticking-clock investigation for a psychopathic serial killer. The bond they forge in this crucible sets the stage for high-stakes suspense.
Detective Kara Quinn, on leave from the LAPD, is on an early morning jog in her hometown of Liberty Lake when she comes upon the body of a young nurse. The manner of death shows a pattern of highly controlled rage. Meanwhile in DC, FBI special agent Mathias Costa is staffing his newly minted Mobile Response Team. Word reaches Matt that the Liberty Lake murder fits the profile of the compulsive Triple Killer. It will be the first case for the MRT. This time they have a chance to stop this zealous if elusive killer before he strikes again. But only if they can figure out who he is and where he is hiding before he disappears for another three years. The stakes are higher than ever before, because if they fail, one of their own will be next…
The Review
Such a compelling and engaging blend of police procedural and serial killer thriller! This captured my attention immediately, as the author went about setting the haunting atmosphere of the killer’s actions in the book’s prelude. The insight into the killer’s mind and the investigation very much reminded me of J.D. Barker’s 4MK series, building the suspense and the cat & mouse element of the narrative slowly but surely, keeping the reader hanging on the author’s every word.
The character growth was definitely the major hook for this story. The killer’s motivations and thought process throughout his killings was complex, but it was the protagonists themselves, Costa and Quinn, who really added depth to this narrative. Their haunted backstories and the bond they form together keeps readers on an emotional rollercoaster as they follow this partnership through its highs and lows, until the book’s exhilarating final chapters.
The Verdict
A masterful, engaging, and thrilling new suspense novel, author Allison Brennan’s “The Third To Die” is a must-read thriller! Heart-pounding games between a killer and those chasing him really keep readers invested in this narrative, and the bond between the two investigators on the case will have readers ready and eager to dive into the next chapter of this series. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Allison Brennan believes that life is too short to be bored, so she had five children and writes three books a year.
40 books and numerous short stories later, Allison relocated in 2019 from Northern California to Arizona with her husband and two youngest children.
She currently writes the Lucy Kincaid/Sean Rogan thriller series, and launched the Quinn & Costa thrillers this year with THE THIRD TO DIE. Catherine Coulter called it an “amazing new series” and Kirkus Reviews says Kara Quinn is “A strong and damaged protagonist as compelling as Lisbeth Salander.”
RT Book Reviews calls Allison “a master of suspense” and her books “haunting,” “mesmerizing,” “pulse-pounding” and “emotionally complex.” RT also said that “The Lucy Kincaid/Sean Rogan books are getting better and better!” She’s been nominated for many awards, and is a three time winner of the Reviewer’s Choice award winner for RT Book Reviews as well as the Daphne du Maurier award. Most recently, she was nominated for Best Paperback Original by International Thriller Writers.
Allison has given back extensively to the writing community. She judged the Thriller Awards for nine years, served as awards committee chair for one term, was the managing editor of LOVE IS MURDER (edited by Sandra Brown), and has offered workshops on writing. She is also a mentor to unpublished writers for Mystery Writers of America has spoken to numerous writing groups.
You can reach Allison through Goodreads or through her website.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A gruesome series of murders in the late 80’s finds upstate New York in a frenzy in a fictionalized version of true events in author Gary Westphalen’s “Murdered for Nothing”.
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The Synopsis
On a cold and snowy night in Upstate New York, two men walked into a little neighborhood bar. When they walked out a few minutes later, the three people inside had their heads caved in, and the place was on fire. In less than 48 hours, two more people in Rochester would be savagely tortured and murdered, and their homes also set ablaze. The five died in robberies that netted less than a hundred dollars. And that real-life crime spree is just the beginning.Set in the late 1980’s, Murdered For Nothing follows the criminals, the cops looking for them, the lawyer aching to represent them, and the media covering it all through a gruesome and twisted drama that includes egos, lies, suspense, the occasional touch of humor, and even a courtroom brawl that occurred in front of a dual trial involving two juries. Best of all, it unravels right in front of my camera. You see, I was the first television news photographer allowed to record a trial in New York State.Set in the late 1980’s, Murdered For Nothing is a fictionalized version of those real-life events that I witnessed first-hand. They have been percolating in my head for decades, and have bubbled to the surface in this page-turner that you won’t be able to put down.
The Review
This was a truly engaging and chilling crime thriller. What set this story apart from others within this genre was the fact that the crimes themselves were not some glamorous, Hollywood-style event that saw some big shootout with police during a bank heist. Instead, the story focused on the brutal reality of most crimes, which is that murder is far too often not just heartbreaking and painful for those left behind, but pointless as well. The author perfectly captures the raw emotions and vicious nature of the small-town crime that often gets overshadowed by the media, while also balancing this out with fast-paced storytelling and haunting use of imagery within the writing itself to bring these crimes and the lives of those involved to life.
What really stands out of course is the amazing character development within this novel. The author not only hones in on the mindset and personalities of the criminals, the police, and those involved in the case but even brings to life the small-town of Rochester itself, showing the townspeople and how these brutal crimes affected them. Balancing out this story of brutality with crimes such as this was the media sensation that the case became, highlighting our own nature as a society to become invested in and fascinated with the criminal mind and their acts.
A brilliant, enthralling, and haunting read, author Gary Westphalen’s “Murder for Nothing” is a fantastic and must-read crime thriller for the summer. Not only does the story itself draw the reader in, but the fact it’s a fictionalized narrative based on true events makes the story much more engaging, and will have readers clamoring to learn more about this case. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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About the Author
Gary has spent a lifetime as a documentary film maker and journalist. His pursuit of telling the story of the human condition has taken him to dozens of countries all over the world. He has interviewed Presidents and Kings, the homeless and destitute, and everything in-between. His work has been seen on nearly every major television and cable network. It’s almost a guarantee that you have seen the results of his story-telling. He has now turned to a life filled with narrating audiobooks for other authors, and writing his own books as well. Learn much more at garywestphalen.com
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
An FBI agent with a gift for sensing lies finds herself searching for two kidnapped twins and a suspect with little to no information in a race against time in author Natalie Hanson’s novel, “The Unknown Man”.
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The Synopsis
It took just a tiny bit more matter than antimatter for the big bang to produce the entire universe. Born with an abnormality that manifests through her body, imbalance is something Zalla Bennbett understands. Her ability to sense out lies gives her an advantage on FBI investigations, but sixteen years in, both her marriage and career are on the rocks.
Zalla is assigned to work the kidnapping of an FBI informant’s young twins. With no evidence or leads, her suspect is deemed ‘The Unknown Man’. She’ll have to fight against her instincts to find the girls before time runs out.
The Review
A chilling and gripping tale, author Natalie Hanson has delivered a masterpiece thriller like no other. The author does a fantastic job of delivering suspense and drama on every page through perfect pacing and shocking narrative developments. The complex web of deceit and the twists and turns the author showcases in the narrative help bring out the terror that helps define the horror/thriller genre.
The novel is the perfect balance of character development and pacing, taking the time to introduce readers to this narrative’s characters and establish a bond between the reader and the characters. The revelations that are made throughout the novel and the identity of the villain who has brought a level of complexity and drama to the narrative make this story a real stand-out amongst the other new releases in this genre.
A memorable, engaging, and chilling novel of twisted games and haunting memories, author Natalie Hanson’s “The Unknown Man” is the perfect first entry into a brand new series of thrillers following a complicated and unique new protagonist. The shocking revelations the narrative unveils really make this novel inviting and nail-biting, making for the perfect summer thriller. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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About the Author
Natalie Hanson is an author and screenplay writer born and raised in Seattle, WA.
‘The Unknown Man’ is the first of five novels chronicling the hunt for serial killers and criminals by FBI agent Zalla Bennbett. This dark series examines the worst criminals humanity has to offer through the eyes of a jaded agent, struggling to keep optimism alive and fight for the voiceless.
Book two in the series, ‘The Butcher’, is an upcoming release.
Her novel ‘Every Moment and Not a Second More’ was published on Amazon in 2018.
Currently she is collaborating on a horror genre comic series based on her screenplay “Dociles.” It tells the story of a teen runaway, kidnapped by a medical examiner who turns the dead into zombies. It’s a fight to not end up as one of the herd!
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A series of gruesome murders leads two detectives down the rabbit hole as clues lead them to powerful figures, and the race to stop not only more killings but a full-scale war takes center stage in author William Gensburger’s “Texas Dead”.
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The Synopsis
A series of murders in Corpus Christi leaves residents uneasy. All the victims were shot in the back of the head. But when a prominent financial genius is also found murdered, and not in the same way, celebrity detective Mackenzie ‘Maxie’ Michaels and her partner Kobe Jameson, must race to find the person responsible before more murders occur. As they uncover clues, the mystery deepens, dragging in powerful people, and threatening to erupt in a full-on war.
The Review
A thrilling new novel just in time for summer! The author does an incredible job of immediately balancing the chilling suspense of the main narrative with the humor and charm of the main cast of characters. The pacing of the novel’s main mystery perfectly draws the reader in, slowly unraveling a tangled web of corruption and power as shocking suspects are revealed throughout the investigation.
However, it is the strong characters of this novel that really are the backbone and selling point of the whole narrative. A strong female lead detective like Maxie does a great job of taking readers through the investigation process and the shocking twists and turns that occur, while her relationship both with her partner Kobe and reporter Devin Parker make this story feel real and connected. However, it is the humor and wit of the protagonist and her back and forth with the other characters that make this feel like a serialized cop show waiting to happen.
The Verdict
A funny, shocking, and engaging thriller and suspense novel, author William Gensburger’s “Texas Dead” is the perfect introduction to a powerful new thriller series and an equally powerful protagonist and lead detective fans can get behind. A novel that’s imagery really makes the narrative feel like a network show that is meant to be seen, the novel proves to be the perfect starting thriller of the 2021 Summer reading season. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today.
Rating: 10/10
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About the Author
William Gensburger is the author of TEXAS DEAD, a murder mystery novel, DISTANT RUMORS, an anthology of 16 stories about life and death, and HOMO IDIOTUS, a collection of published newspaper editorials.
He is also the publisher of ‘Books’N Pieces Magazine (soon to be a video podcast), where he has worked with many different authors, as well as publishing The Concordian, a 24-page monthly community newspaper, until 2016.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A struggling attorney finds himself in a contentious legal battle as the widow of a man accused of shoplifting is killed while being arrested, and as witnesses begin falling apart on the stand, the lawyer and the widow must fight to bring the truth to light in author James Rosenberg’s “Unclean Hands”.
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The Synopsis
A contentious trial is imminent:
Rick Waterston’s legal practice is suffering. Although he’s stopped drinking, he can’t turn his life around. The ex is hounding him for past child support. His biggest client makes passes at him and there’s not a lot of money to spread around.
Emily Hawkins’ husband was killed while shopping at the local B & D warehouse store, accused of shoplifting and suffocated while being detained waiting for the police to arrive. To figure out the true story of what happened to her husband she hires Rick to sue the store.
Without any settlement offer, they are forced to take the case to trial where Rick has to handle the overbearing lawyers representing the store—the same people who fired him from his first job and sent him on his downward spiral.
No trial is predictable, but Rick must question his tactics when witnesses fall apart on the stand and crumble under intense cross-examination. The only hope of convincing the jury that shoplifters have rights is Emily who must stand her ground when confronted with her husbands’ dirty secrets.
The Review
A truly stellar and enthralling legal thriller, author James Rosenberg once again finds the perfect balance between his background as an attorney and the intricate depth he finds within his characters. The blend of each character’s integral role in the trial and the case overall with their own personal struggles, especially protagonist Rick and his haunted past, really helped the narrative flow smoothly.
In this day and age, the concept of lawful versus unlawful arrests and the demand for more accountability towards those accused of crimes versus actual criminals has never been higher. The narrative really does a great job of capturing this important societal theme, while also giving an original and unique spin on the story overall that will have readers hanging on the author’s every word. The pacing of this fits perfectly in the legal thriller genre, really setting up the case and making the reader eager to read as each clue is unraveled slowly but surely.
The Verdict
A brilliant, engaging, and jaw-dropping legal thriller, author James Rosenberg’s “Unclean Hands” is a must-read novel. The shocking final moments of the book’s legal battle will leave readers reeling as the truth is revealed, and the more personal and intimate moments with characters like Rick will keep the reader feeling more connected to the narrative overall. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
James Rosenberg is a 3rd generation trial attorney with plenty of stories to tell. Inspired not only by the courtroom stories his father and grandfather used to tell
him when he was a child, but also by the wild adventures he’s encountered through his own experience as a lawyer.
James is fascinated by the intricate, interpersonal
dynamics of every trial he’s endured. Whether it’s the raw emotion on display in court, the tension in the air that builds until someone wins, or the impact that a
case’s decision has on the parties involved, James is always paying attention and keeping tabs on what’s happening.
In his debut novel, “Legal Reserves”, James flexes his creative muscle outside of the courtroom to share his stories, with a fictional twist, through the eyes of archetypes he knows well.
A native of Pittsburgh and a graduate of Taylor Allderdice High School and the University of Pittsburgh School of Law, James has been a trial attorney in Pittsburgh for almost 30 years. He started writing legal thrillers as a stress reducer and finds this creative outlet to be a fun and meaningful diversion from his day job.
When he’s not trying cases, he’s either dreaming up his next book idea, spending time with his wife and three kids, or both.
To contact James email Rosenberg@marcus-shapira.com or follow him on Facebook at
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A young girl who disappeared over a decade earlier along with two older women returns and brings with her a shocking twist of domestic secrets that will shake a local community to the core in author Mary Kubica’s “Local Woman Missing”.
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The Synopsis
People don’t just disappear without a trace…
Shelby Tebow is the first to go missing. Not long after, Meredith Dickey and her six-year-old daughter, Delilah, vanish just blocks away from where Shelby was last seen, striking fear into their once-peaceful community. Are these incidents connected? After an elusive search that yields more questions than answers, the case eventually goes cold.
Now, eleven years later, Delilah shockingly returns. Everyone wants to know what happened to her, but no one is prepared for what they’ll find…
In this smart and chilling thriller, master of suspense and New York Times bestselling author Mary Kubica takes domestic secrets to a whole new level, showing that some people will stop at nothing to keep the truth buried.
The Review
This was such a compelling read. The author does an incredible job of weaving together a complex narrative that keeps the reader guessing the entire story. The characters feel alive and do a marvelous job of engaging the reader on an entirely different level, eliciting emotions like sadness and rage to disbelief and heartbreak. The alternating timelines and POV’s were an inspired choice, as they really help the story connect with the mystery and intrigue the author has established here.
What will draw the reader in is the intensity of the narrative and how the author manages to weave each POV and timeline to keep the mystery alive. The story shifts and changes so many times that readers are constantly shocked to discover new secrets and new suspects in this growing case, as the true mystery doesn’t even begin until after Delilah returns home.
The Verdict
A brilliant, thought-provoking, and heart-pounding thriller, author Mary Kubica’s “Local Woman Missing” is the perfect suspense novel for fans of the genre this summer. Written in a way that screams for a cinematic or miniseries adaption, the twists and turns will keep readers engaged throughout the entirety of the novel, and by the book’s end readers will be shocked as the final revelations are shown. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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About the Author
Mary Kubica is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of six novels, including THE GOOD GIRL, PRETTY BABY, DON’T YOU CRY, EVERY LAST LIE, WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT, and THE OTHER MRS. A former high school history teacher, Mary holds a Bachelor of Arts degree from Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, in History and American Literature. She lives outside of Chicago with her husband and two children. Her last novel THE OTHER MRS. was an instant New York Times bestseller; is coming soon to Netflix; was a LibraryReads pick for February 2020; praised by the New York Times; and highly recommended by Entertainment Weekly, People, The Week,Marie Claire, Bustle, HelloGiggles,Goodreads, PopSugar, BookRiot, HuffingtonPost, First for Women, Woman’s World, and more.Mary’s novels have been translated into over thirty languages and have sold over two million copies worldwide. She’s been described as “a helluva storyteller,” (Kirkus Reviews) and “a writer of vice-like control,” (Chicago Tribune), and her novels have been praised as “hypnotic” (People) and “thrilling and illuminating” (Los Angeles Times). LOCAL WOMAN MISSING is her seventh novel.
The text comes from a number I don’t know. It’s a 630 area code. Local. I’m in the bathroom with Leo as he soaks in the tub. He has his bath toys lined up on the edge of it and they’re taking turns swan diving into the now-lukewarm water. It used to be hot, too hot for Leo to get into. But he’s been in there for thirty minutes now playing with his octopus, his whale, his fish. He’s having a ball.
Meanwhile I’ve lost track of time. I have a client in the early stages of labor. We’re texting. Her husband wants to take her to the hospital. She thinks it’s too soon. Her contractions are six and a half minutes apart. She’s absolutely correct. It’s too soon. The hospital would just send her home, which is frustrating, not to mention a huge inconvenience for women in labor. And anyway, why labor at the hospital when you can labor in the comfort of your own home? First-time fathers always get skittish. It does their wives no good. By the time I get to them, more times than not, the woman in labor is the more calm of the two. I have to focus my attention on pacifying a nervous husband. It’s not what they’re paying me for.
I tell Leo one more minute until I shampoo his hair, and then fire off a quick text, suggesting my client have a snack to keep her energy up, herself nourished. I recommend a nap, if her body will let her. The night ahead will be long for all of us. Childbirth, especially when it comes to first-time moms, is a marathon, not a sprint.
Josh is home. He’s in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner while Delilah plays. Delilah’s due up next in the tub. By the time I leave, the bedtime ritual will be done or nearly done. I feel good about that, hating the times I leave Josh alone with so much to do.
I draw up my text and then hit Send. The reply is immediate, that all too familiar ping that comes to me at all hours of the day or night.
I glance down at the phone in my hand, expecting it’s my client with some conditioned reply. Thx.
Instead: I know what you did. I hope you die.
Beside the text is a picture of a grayish skull with large, black eye sockets and teeth. The symbol of death.
My muscles tense. My heart quickens. I feel thrown off. The small bathroom feels suddenly, overwhelmingly, oppressive. It’s steamy, moist, hot. I drop down to the toilet and have a seat on the lid. My pulse is loud, audible in my own ears. I stare at the words before me, wondering if I’ve misread. Certainly I’ve misread. Leo is asking, “Is it a minute, Mommy?” I hear his little voice, muff led by the ringing in my ears. But I’m so thrown by the cutthroat text that I can’t speak.
I glance at the phone again. I haven’t misread.
The text is not from my client in labor. It’s not from any client of mine whose name and number is stored in my phone. As far as I can tell, it’s not from anyone I know.
A wrong number, then, I think. Someone sent this to me by accident. It has to be. My first thought is to delete it, to pretend this never happened. To make it disappear. Out of sight, out of mind.
But then I think of whoever sent it just sending it again or sending something worse. I can’t imagine anything worse.
I decide to reply. I’m careful to keep it to the point, to not sound too judgy or fault-finding because maybe the intended recipient really did do something awful—stole money from a children’s cancer charity—and the text isn’t as egregious as it looks at first glance.
I text: You have the wrong number.
The response is quick.
I hope you rot in hell, Meredith.
The phone slips from my hand. I yelp. The phone lands on the navy blue bath mat, which absorbs the sound of its fall.
Meredith.
Whoever is sending these texts knows my name. The texts are meant for me.
A second later Josh knocks on the bathroom door. I spring from the toilet seat, and stretch down for the phone. The phone has fallen facedown. I turn it over. The text is still there on the screen, staring back at me.
Josh doesn’t wait to be let in. He opens the door and steps right inside. I slide the phone into the back pocket of my jeans before Josh has a chance to see.
“Hey,” he says, “how about you save some water for the fish.”
Leo complains to Josh that he is cold. “Well, let’s get you out of the bath,” Josh says, stretching down to help him out of the water.
“I need to wash him still,” I admit. Before me, Leo’s teeth chatter. There are goose bumps on his arm that I hadn’t noticed before. He is cold, and I feel suddenly guilty, though it’s mired in confusion and fear. I hadn’t been paying any attention to Leo. There is bathwater spilled all over the floor, but his hair is still bone-dry.
“You haven’t washed him?” Josh asks, and I know what he’s thinking: that in the time it took him to clear the kitchen table, wash pots and pans and wipe down the sinks, I did nothing. He isn’t angry or accusatory about it. Josh isn’t the type to get angry.
“I have a client in labor,” I say by means of explanation. “She keeps texting,” I say, telling Josh that I was just about to wash Leo. I drop to my knees beside the tub. I reach for the shampoo. In the back pocket of my jeans, the phone again pings. This time, I ignore it. I don’t want Josh to know what’s happening, not until I get a handle on it for myself.
Josh asks, “Aren’t you going to get that?” I say that it can wait. I focus on Leo, on scrubbing the shampoo onto his hair, but I’m anxious. I move too fast so that the shampoo suds get in his eye. I see it happening, but all I can think to do is wipe it from his forehead with my own soapy hands. It doesn’t help. It makes it worse.
Leo complains. Leo isn’t much of a complainer. He’s an easygoing kid. “Ow,” is all that he says, his tiny wet hands going to his eyes, though shampoo in the eye burns like hell.
“Does that sting, baby?” I ask, feeling contrite. But I’m bursting with nervous energy. There’s only one thought racing through my mind. I hope you rot in hell, Meredith.
Who would have sent that, and why? Whoever it is knows me. They know my name. They’re mad at me for something I’ve done. Mad enough to wish me dead. I don’t know anyone like that. I can’t think of anything I’ve done to upset someone enough that they’d want me dead.
I grab the wet washcloth draped over the edge of the tub. I try handing it to Leo, so that he can press it to his own eyes. But my hands shake as I do. I wind up dropping the washcloth into the bath. The tepid water rises up and splashes him in the eyes. This time he cries.
“Oh, buddy,” I say, “I’m so sorry, it slipped.”
But as I try again to grab it from the water and hand it to him, I drop the washcloth for a second time. I leave it where it is, letting Leo fish it out of the water and wipe his eyes for himself. Meanwhile Josh stands two feet behind, watching.
My phone pings again. Josh says, “Someone is really dying to talk to you.”
Dying. It’s all that I hear.
My back is to Josh, thank God. He can’t see the look on my face when he says it.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Your client,” Josh says. I turn to him. He motions to my phone jutting out of my back pocket. “She really needs you. You should take it, Mer,” he says softly, accommodatingly, and only then do I think about my client in labor and feel guilty. What if it is her? What if her contractions are coming more quickly now and she does need me?
Josh says, “I can finish up with Leo while you get ready to go,” and I acquiesce, because I need to get out of here. I need to know if the texts coming to my phone are from my client or if they’re coming from someone else.
I rise up from the floor. I scoot past Josh in the door, brushing against him. His hand closes around my upper arm as I do, and he draws me in for a hug. “Everything okay?” he asks, and I say yes, fine, sounding too chipper even to my own ears. Everything is not okay.
“I’m just thinking about my client,” I say. “She’s had a stillbirth before, at thirty-two weeks. She never thought she’d get this far. Can you imagine that? Losing a baby at thirty-two weeks?”
Josh says no. His eyes move to Leo and he looks saddened by it. I feel guilty for the lie. It’s not this client but another who lost a baby at thirty-two weeks. When she told me about it, I was completely torn up. It took everything in me not to cry as she described for me the moment the doctor told her her baby didn’t have a heartbeat. Labor was later induced, and she had to push her dead baby out with only her mother by her side. Her husband was deployed at the time. After, she was snowed under by guilt. Was it her fault the baby died? A thousand times I held her hand and told her no. I’m not sure she ever believed me.
My lie has the desired effect. Josh stands down, and asks if I need help with anything before I leave. I say no, that I’m just going to change my clothes and go.
I step out of the bathroom. In the bedroom, I close the door. I grab my scrub bottoms and a long-sleeved T-shirt from my drawer. I lay them on the bed, but before I get dressed, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I take a deep breath and hold it in, summoning the courage to look. I wonder what waits there. More nasty threats? My heart hammers inside me. My knees shake.
I take a look. There are two messages waiting for me.
The first: Water broke. Contractions 5 min apart.
And then: Heading to hospital.—M.
I release my pent-up breath. The texts are from my client’s husband, sent from her phone. My legs nearly give in relief, and I drop down to the edge of the bed, forcing myself to breathe. I inhale long and deep. I hold it in until my lungs become uncomfortable. When I breathe out, I try and force away the tension.
But I can’t sit long because my client is advancing quickly. I need to go.
Excerpted from Local Woman Missing @ 2021 by Mary Kyrychenko, used with permission by Park Row Books.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
Two young mothers find themselves in a gripping murder trial as one must defend the other and prove her innocence in the face of growing evidence to the contrary in author Lara Bazelon’s “A Good Mother”.
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The Synopsis
A gripping page turner about two young mothers, one grisly murder, and the lengths both women will go in the name of their children.
When young decorated combat veteran Travis Hollis is found stabbed through the heart at a U.S. Army base in Germany, there is no doubt that his wife, Luz, is to blame. But was it an act of self defense? A frenzied attempt to save her infant daughter from domestic abuse? Or the cold blood murder of an innocent man?
As the case heads to trial in Los Angeles, hard-charging attorney Abby Rosenberg is eager to return from maternity leave—and her quickly fracturing home life—to take the case and defend Luz. Abby, a new mother herself, is committed to ensuring Luz avoids prison and retains custody of her daughter. But as the evidence stacks up against Luz, Abby realizes the task proves far more difficult than she suspected – especially when she has to battle for control over the case with her co-counsel, whose dark absorption with Luz only complicates matters further.
As the trial careens toward an outcome no one expects, readers will find themselves in the seat of the jurors, forced to answer the question – what does it mean to be a good mother? A good lawyer? And who is the real monster?
The Review
A gripping legal thriller, the author has used her expertise in the field of legal aid to really dive into the laborious work that goes into being a lawyer at trial. The balance found of legal work and suspense as the evidence and discoveries made in the case keep the reader guessing made this such an entertaining read.
The character development was fantastic to see here. From protagonist, Abby, and her challenging battles both at home and in the case kept the reader invested in the narrative, while the back and forth on Luz as a suspect in the case and whether or not she could be trusted made for some interesting and gripping storytelling. Then pacing is what really sets the tone for the novel, as the story begins wildly with the 911 call on the night of the crime, and then steps back and begins to set up the trial itself as the mystery begins to slowly be peeled layer by layer.
The Verdict
A mesmerizing, heart-pounding, and evenly-paced read, author Lara Bazelon’s “A Good Mother” is a fantastic thriller and a must-read novel. Great character growth and a pulse-racing mystery that keeps the reader on the edge of their seat make this story shine brightly and make for the perfect summer read for fans of the genre. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Lara Bazelon is an attorney, journalist, MacDowell Fellow, former public defender, and professor at the University of San Francisco School of Law, where she holds the Phillip and Muriel C. Barnett Chair in Trial Advocacy. She is also the author of Rectify: The Power of Restorative Justice After Wrongful Conviction, as well as the upcoming nonfiction book, Ambitious Like a Mother: Women, Ambition, and Motherhood, and her writing has been published widely in The New York Times, The Atlantic, Slate, The Washington Post, and many others.
