Heading for a lovely Overhead Door convention in Dallas. See ya on the flip side....
Much love,
PK the Bookeemosnter
Bookeemonster: a voracious appetite for books, mostly crime fiction.
It was published in 2000 and has 230 pages. A series I've started and would like to keep with; sometimes gets a little too light.Market day, and the inn at Tonbridge has been busy since early morning. As night closes in, a man lies dying in the guest chamber, poisoned by a piece of pie made by the inn's hostess, Goody Anne. Josse d'Acquin, a regular visitor to the tavern and an admirer of Goody Anne's culinary skills, arrives to investigate. He discovers wolf's bane in the remnants of the pie, and learns that, among all the strangers in the tavern that day, one stood out -- a charming, handsome nobleman who asked for the same chicken and vegetable pie. When he fails to persuade the Sheriff that the death is suspicious, Josse turns to his old friend, Abbess Helewise. Weakened from a severe bout of fever, she nonetheless provides a thread of common sense as Josse follows the trail of murder into the great Wealden Forest, where he finds something that will change his life forever.
It was published in 2001 and has 256 pages. A solid book; a series that I've continued reading.In late 1923, the newly married Daisy Dalrymple and Detective Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher of Scotland Yard take an ocean voyage to America for their honeymoon. Accompanied by Daisy's childhood friend Phillip Petrie, his wife Gloria, and Gloria's father - American millionaire industrialist Caleb P. Arbuckle, Daisy and Alec are looking forward to a pleasant, uneventful trip. But at the last minute they are joined by Arbuckle's new friend - Yorkshire millionaire Jethro Gotobed and his new wife Wanda, a showgirl whom all but Gotobed are convinced is a golddigger of the worst sort. Then, having barely lifted anchor, the ocean liner is beset by a series of suspicious accidents and deaths. With harsh weather and rough seas putting many - including Alec - out of commission due to seasickness, it soon falls to Daisy to figure out what connection there might be between the seemingly unrelated incidents. Convinced that there's a murderer aboard ship, Daisy must unmask the culprit or culprits before anyone else - especially herself - falls victim.
This was published in 1989 and has 175 pages. I've been meaning to try to read this series; I've tried once before and couldn't get into it. The plus side is that it is a shorter book to read.The London season is in full fling at the end of the 1920s, but the Honourable Phryne Fishershe of the green-gray eyes, diamant garters, and outfits that should not be sprung suddenly on those of nervous dispositionsis rapidly tiring of the tedium of arranging flowers, making polite conversations with retired colonels, and dancing with weak-chinned men. Instead, Phryne decides it might be rather amusing to try her hand at being a lady detective in Melbourne, Australia. Almost immediately from the time she arrives, Phryne is embroiled in mystery: poisoned wives, cocaine smuggling rings, corrupt cops, and communismnot to mention erotic encounters with a beautiful Russian danceruntil her adventure reaches its steamy end in the Turkish baths of Little Lonsdale Street.
Denver homicide detective Bryson Coventry senses something different about his current case, involving the murders of four young women. Part of the difference is that one of the suspects, a mysterious woman named Tianca, is getting under Coventry's skin in the most inappropriate of ways. Another difference is the mixed message being sent by the victims. Are they victims of a serial killer, as it first appears? If so, why were they all killed in different ways? Baffled, Coventry and steadfast colleague Shalifa Netherwood grind their way through the evidence. Meanwhile, a young law associate who had once worked with one of the victims inadvertently involves herself with the investigation, possibly to her own peril.
Legions of Stephen King fans are in for a treat November 10th, when Scribner will release Under the Dome—an 1,136 page “tour de force” from the master storyteller.
From the Scribner catalog:“On an entirely normal, beautiful fall day in Chester’s Mill, Maine, the town is inexplicably and suddenly sealed off from the rest of the world by an invisible force field. Planes crash into it and fall from the sky in flaming wreckage, a gardener’s hand is severed as “the dome” comes down on it, people running errands in the neighboring town are divided from their families, and cars explode on impact. No one can fathom what this barrier is, where it came from, and when—or if—it will go away.” Featuring more than 100 characters facing a menacing supernatural element in their small Maine town, early reads are comparing Under the Dome to King’s classic epic, The Stand.
Molly Murphy has finally begun to forget the unpleasant murder of a would-be rapist back in Ireland, not to mention her investigation into the murder of a fellow recent Irish immigrant, and is finally free to begin her life in New York City. Given her experiences so far in the New World, Molly has decided that her first order of business is to become a private investigator, a people finder of sorts, working for families in Europe who've lost touch with relatives in America. Paddy Riley is a tough old Cockney P.I. who specializes in divorce work, and with a little persuasion he's ready to take on Molly as an apprentice. It's not exactly what she imagined, but she plans to make the most of it. That is, until she comes in to work one day to find her new world turned upside down and all expectations for her professional life suddenly up in the air. Before long, Molly has set off on a journey that will take her through the back alleys of Manhattan and into the bars and lounges of the literary scene, where she spends time with writers, actors, poets, and musicians. It's quite an eye-opening turn for innocent young Molly, but she's resolute in her decision to find out exactly what happened that day in the office of Paddy Riley. Armed with nothing more than her fiery will and matching wild red hair, Molly has no idea of the danger her pursuit may bring.
When Duncan Kincaid’s cousin Jack calls from Glastonbury to ask for his help on a rather unusual matter, Duncan welcomes the chance to spend a relaxing weekend outside of London with Gemma--but relaxation isn’t on the agenda. Glastonbury is revered as the site of an ancient abbey, the mythical burial place of King Arthur and Guinevere, and a source of strong druid power. Jack has no more than a passing interest in its history--until he comes across an extraordinary chronicle almost a thousand years old. The record reveals something terrible and bloody shattered the abbey’s peace long ago--knowledge that will spark violence that reaches into the present. Soon it is up to Duncan and Gemma to find the truth the local police cannot see. But no one envisions the peril that lies ahead--or that there is more at stake than they ever dreamed possible.
It is 1715, and George I has just ascended the English throne, causing heart palpitations among the ardent supporters of James Stuart, the exiled Pretender. Gideon, unjustly accused of the murder of his father, leaves his own French exile on a fact-finding mission for James but refuses complete allegiance. Hester, meanwhile, suffers (somewhat) in the retinue of the Earl of Hawkhurst, the man who holds Gideon's rightful place in England. Pretender King James offers Gideon the return of his estate if he joins his cause. Gideon sees this as a chance to right the unfair injustice he suffered so he agrees. James sends him to England to meet with the head of his army to learn when the rebellion will begin. However, when Gideon sees Hester enter the home of a Jacobite, he warns her to beware of whom she befriends. Not long afterward a murder at a Theater private box points towards Isabella's brother as the culprit. Hester asks Gideon to clear the Hawkhurst name as only he as the Blue Satan can do.
Journalists like to think of their work in moral or even sacred terms. With each new layoff or paper closing, they tell themselves that no business model could adequately compensate the holy work of enriching democratic society, speaking truth to power, and comforting the afflicted.Actually, journalists deserve low pay.Wages are compensation for value creation. And journalists simply aren't creating much value these days.
Rory Clements introduces John Shakespeare, Elizabethan England’s most remarkable investigator, and delivers a tale of murder and conspiracy that succeeds brilliantly as both historical fiction and a crime thriller. In a burnt-out house, one of Queen Elizabeth’s aristocratic cousins is found murdered, her young flesh marked with profane symbols. At the same time, a plot to assassinate Sir Francis Drake, England’s most famous sea warrior, is discovered—a plot which, if successful, could leave the country utterly defenseless against a Spanish invasion. It’s 1587, the Queen’s reign is in jeopardy, and one man is charged with the desperate task of solving both cases: John Shakespeare. With the Spanish Armada poised to strike, Mary Queen of Scots awaiting execution, and the pikes above London Bridge decorated with the grim evidence of treachery, the country is in peril of being overwhelmed by fear and chaos. Following a trail of illicit passions and family secrets, Shakespeare travels through an underworld of spies, sorcerers, whores, and theater people, among whom is his own younger brother, the struggling playwright, Will. Shadowed by his rival, the Queen’s chief torturer, who employs his own methods of terror, Shakespeare begins to piece together a complex and breathtaking conspiracy whose implications are almost too horrific to contemplate. For a zealous and cunning killer is stalking England’s streets. And as Shakespeare threatens to reveal a madman’s shocking identity, he and the beautiful woman he desires come ever closer to becoming the next martyrs to a passion for murder and conspiracy whose terrifying consequences might still be felt today….
A Q&A with Rory Clements
Cree (short for Lucretia) Black is a parapsychologist--what the skeptics disdainfully call a "ghostbuster." Since her husband's untimely death nine years ago, she has been able to use her empathic abilities to sense the presence of ghostly manifestations and to liberate them from the realm of the living. Cree's newest case involves the haunted Beauforte House, located in the Garden District of New Orleans. The Beaufortes are your typical southern Gothic family: Charmaine, the aristocratic but monstrous mother; debonairly dissipated son Ronald; Jack, the social-climbing son-in-law; and daughter Lila, who is the only one to have actually seen the ghost. The rest of the Beauforte clan believe Lila is mentally unbalanced and have agreed to hire Cree in an
effort to humor her. But, soon after arriving at the house, Cree also sees the ghost and is physically attacked by it.
At a New Mexico boarding school for gifted Navajo children, a 15-year-old boy endures a series of violent, agonizing seizures. The boy's convulsions are all the more troubling because extensive medical tests have ruled out a physical cause--and because the boys surrounding him during his seizures seem to become paralyzed by the same force. Parapsychologist Cree Black is almost forcibly brought in on the case by her mentor and is soon convinced that the boarding school is facing a bout with demonic possession. Cree explains a ghost as "fragments of a once-living human personality that somehow keep manifesting in the absence of a physical body." If she can puzzle out what the ghost wants, she reasons, then it can be banished. The isolation of the sagebrush desert surrounding the school is especially effective as are the ties with the Navajo legends of malevolent ghosts and skinwalkers.
An old family friend, SFPD homicide detective Bert Marchetti, who's nearing retirement and wishes to leave the force with as few loose ends as possible, enlists Cree's help with an unusual skeletal find"an apparent victim of the 1906 earthquake whose strange physiognomy leads the forensic anthropologists on the case to dub him the Wolfman. The detective's motives become suspect when Cree realizes that his agenda may include settling scores with a deformed radiologist Marchetti believes is an unpunished murderer. The chance discovery of a 19th-century diary enables Cree to piece together some details about the Wolfman
About the Author:Daniel Hecht was a professional guitarist for twenty years. In 1989, he retired from musical performance to take up writing, and he received his MFA from the Iowa Writers Workshop in 1992. He is the author of two previous novels, Skull Session and The Babel Effect.
Chapter 1
Gabriel Hunt tugged at the tight collar around his neck and grimaced as he failed to loosen it. He stuck the thumb of his other hand inside the cummerbund cinched around his waist and pulled it out a little.
“I hate tuxedos,” he muttered.
His brother Michael leaned closer to him.
Without altering the beaming smile on his face, Michael said from the corner of
his mouth, “Stop fidgeting.”
“Easy for you to say, yours probably fits.”
“You could have had one made as well,” Michael said. “Thomas would have been
delighted. If instead you choose to rent from some off- the-rack dealer . . .”
“Best part of wearing a tuxedo’s getting to give the damn thing back,”
Gabriel said. Then he spotted something that interested him more than the
collar’s constraints.
Someone, actually.
The loveliest woman he had seen in quite some time.
She moved toward the Hunt brothers, her natural grace allowing her to glide with apparent ease through the crowd that thronged the Great Hall of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She was as beautiful as any of the masterpieces hung on the walls in the museum’s many galleries.
A mass of midnight- black curls framed a compelling, high- cheekboned face
dominated by dark, intense eyes. Those curls tumbled over honey- skinned
shoulders left bare by the strapless evening gown of dark green silk that clung
to the generous curves of her body. She possessed a timeless, natural beauty
that was more attractive to Gabriel than anything the multitude of stick-
thin, face-lifted society women attending this reception could ever muster.
And she appeared to be coming straight toward him.
“Who’s that?” Gabriel asked his brother.
“I have no idea,” Michael replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”
“You’d remember if you had,” Gabriel said. “I thought you knew everyone here.”
Tonight’s reception was in honor of a new exhibit of Egyptian art and artifacts, many of which the Hunt Foundation had provided on loan to the museum. Gabriel had brought several of those artifacts back with him from a recent trip to Egypt— some of them even with the knowledge of the Egyptian government. The exhibit would open to the public the next day, but tonight was an advance showing for the museum’s wealthiest benefactors.
Gabriel snagged a couple of glasses of champagne from a tray carried by a
passing waiter. The beautiful young woman might be thirsty, and if she was, he
was going to be ready.
“What’s that she’s carry ing?” Michael asked in an undertone.
It was Gabriel’s turn to say, “I have no idea.” Instead of some glittery, fashionable purse, the young woman carried a cloth-wrapped bundle of some sort. The cloth was a faded red, and to Gabriel’s eye, it appeared old. The fabric looked distressed, the edges frayed.
A waiter moved in front of her, offering her a drink. She shook her head and looked irritated that the man had interrupted her progress across the hall. When Gabriel saw that, he tossed back the champagne in one of the glasses he held, then pressed
the other into Michael’s hand.
Either the lady didn’t drink, or she had something else on her mind at the moment.
Gabriel set the empty glass on a pedestal supporting a clay vase, then turned to greet the young woman with a smile as she finally reached the spot where he and Michael were standing, near one of the pillars that ran along the sides of the hall.
“Señor Hunt?” she said. He caught a hint of a South American accent, but only a hint.
“That’s right,” Gabriel said, but before he could ask her who she was, she spoke again.
“Señor Michael Hunt?”
Gabriel shot a sidelong glance Michael’s way and Michael stepped forward, smiling. Shorter, younger, and studious- looking rather than ruggedly handsome, he was accustomed to paling into insignificance next to his more dynamic older brother. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.“I’m Michael Hunt,” he said. “And you are ...?”
“My name is Mariella Montez,” she told him.
“And what can I do for you, Miss Montez?”
Before she could reply, the waiter who had stopped her on her way across the hall appeared behind her sleek, bare left shoulder. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I believe you
dropped this.”
With an annoyed look again on her face, she turned toward the red- jacketed man and said, “I didn’t drop anything—”
But what the waiter was extending toward her was a pistol, aimed directly between her ample breasts. He reached out with his other hand to snatch the bundle she was carry ing.
Mariella jerked back and said, “No!”
Incredulous and instantly tensed for trouble, Gabriel stepped between Mariella and the waiter. “Hey, buddy, put that thing down. This is a museum, not a firing range.”
“This is not your concern,” the waiter said, and swung the pistol at Gabriel’s head.
Instinct brought Gabriel’s left arm up to block the blow. His right fist shot up and out in a short, sharp punch that rocked the waiter’s head back and bloodied his nose.
When 17-year-old Senate page Katie Converse goes missing on her Christmas break near her parents' white Victorian home in Portland, Ore., law enforcement and media personnel go into overdrive in a search for clues. Three friends at the pinnacle of their respective careers—Allison Pierce, a federal prosecutor; Cassidy Shaw, a crime reporter; and Nicole Hedges, an FBI special agent—soon discover that Katie wasn't the picture of innocence painted by her parents. It appears Katie was having an affair with a much older man, a senator whose political career could be derailed if the affair was publicized.
I gently closed the cupboard door and slid the rucksack onto my shoulders, then disassembled the blockade on the door and eased it open.No glowering PC awaited me.Moving along the edge of the hallway to lessen the chance of squeaks underfoot, I explored the other doors, putting my head inside each room and giving a brief shot from the torch to tell me what it contained. The Adlers' bedroom was the room whose dim light I had seen from the garden, from a fixture high on a wall that looked a if it stayed on all of the time. They had a single wide bed, a table on either side with reading lights. Her bed-side table had a drawer with several hand lotions and nail files. His table held a framed photograph of Yolanda in a traditional high-necked Chinese dress, looking less at home than she had in the Western dress of the other
photo.
In a case that will push their relationship to the breaking point, Mary Russell must help reverse the greatest failure of her legendary husband’s storied past—a painful and personal defeat that still has the power to sting…this time fatally. For Mary Russell and her husband, Sherlock Holmes, returning to the Sussex coast after seven months abroad was especially sweet. There was even a mystery to solve--the unexplained disappearance of an entire colony of bees from one of Holmes’s beloved hives. But the anticipated sweetness of their homecoming is quickly tempered by a galling memory from her husband’s past. Mary had met Damian Adler only once before, when the promising surrealist painter had been charged with--and exonerated from--murder. Now the talented and troubled young man was enlisting their help again, this time in a desperate search for his missing wife and child.