Thursday, July 24, 2014

Doghouse by L. A. Kornetsky, New on the Mystery Bookshelf during July 2014

Doghouse by L. A. Kornetsky

New on the Mystery Bookshelf during July 2014 …

Doghouse by L. A. Kornetsky

The Gin & Tonic Series (3rd)

Publisher: Pocket Books

Doghouse by L. A. Kornetsky, Amazon Kindle format

To see more new paperback titles scheduled to be published this month, visit The Mystery Bookshelf for July 2014. For new hardcover mysteries, visit New Mysteries where for a list of July 2014 mysteries, novels of suspense, and thrillers is provided.

More about our featured title, below …

The stakes are raised when Ginny Mallard and Teddy Tonica stumble on an underground dog fighting ring with bloody consequences …

Even though she's unlicensed as an investigator, the infamously nosy Ginny Mallard has begun to make a name for herself as an unofficial champion of the tongue-tied. When a mysterious stranger comes to her with landlord trouble, she convinces her bartender friend Teddy Tonica to help her once more. Soon, they realize they might have got themselves tied up in an underground dogfighting ring.

With the help of Ginny's pet shar-pei puppy and Tonica's tabby cat, they have to figure out what's going on before someone else gets hurt. Will twelve legs really be better than four?

Doghouse by L. A. Kornetsky

The Cornbread Killer, A Heaven Lee, Culinary Mystery by Lou Jane Temple, Now Available at a Special Price

The Cornbread Killer by Lou Jane Temple

Omnimystery News is always searching for newly discounted mystery, suspense, thriller and crime novels for our readers to enjoy. Today, we're pleased to feature the following title, now available at a special price courtesy of the publisher, Minotaur Books …

The Cornbread Killer by Lou Jane Temple

A Heaven Lee, Culinary Mystery (5th in series)

Publisher: Minotaur Books

Price: $2.99 (as of 07/24/2014 at 1:00 PM ET).

The Cornbread Killer by Lou Jane Temple, Amazon Kindle format

Important Note: Price(s) verified as of the date and time shown. Price(s) are subject to change at any time. Please confirm the price of the book before purchasing it.

Kansas City chef Heaven Lee is one tough cookie. Not only can she slice, dice, and julienne the finest food in town, she's got nerves of steel to match her culinary skills. From deadly barbeques to bodies in dough, one things for sure: Heaven Lee can outsmart and outcook them all.

Heaven Lee is tackling the world of soul food and jazz. When a big jazz festival comes to town, the chief organizer is murdered. Of course Heaven Lee was around for the murder and gets fingered as a suspect, along with many other Kansas City residents who also seemed to dislike her.

But the festival must go on, so Heaven and the rest of her crew have to cook and get the music started all while avoiding becoming the killer's next target.

The Cornbread Killer by Lou Jane Temple

New This Week: Crime Scene, A Reilly Steel Thriller by Casey Hill

Crime Scene by Casey Hill

Casey Hill releases a short-novel prequel to her series featuring forensic investigator Reilly Steel …

Crime Scene by Casey Hill

A Reilly Steel Thriller

Publisher: Casey Hill

Price: $2.99 (as of 07/24/2014 at 12:30 PM ET).

Crime Scene by Casey Hill, Amazon Kindle format

Important Note: Price(s) verified as of the date and time shown. Price(s) are subject to change at any time. Please confirm the price of the book before purchasing it.

Forty miles south of Washington, D.C. lies the small town of Quantico. Situated among lush greenery, the 547 acre property is where FBI recruits run obstacle courses, engage in firearms training and participate in mock hostage scenarios in Hogan’s Alley.

It's the world budding forensic investigator Reilly Steel was born for.

During her first semester at the Academy, a fatal accident occurs at a student party off-campus, and a fellow recruit is under suspicion. But by the behavior of the other students and the forensic evidence at the crime scene, Reilly guesses that there is more to the story than meets the eye.

Will her instincts, and everything she's learnt at Quantico so far help Reilly uncover the truth behind the victim's death?

Crime Scene by Casey Hill

An Excerpt from Invisible Streets, a Suspense Thriller by Toby Ball

Omnimystery News: An Excerpt courtesy of Toby Ball
Invisible Streets
by Toby Ball

We are delighted to welcome novelist Toby Ball to Omnimystery News.

Toby — the author of two previous thrillers, The Vaults and Scorch City — has a new book published today, Invisible Streets (The Overlook Press; July 2014 hardcover and ebook formats), and we are pleased to present you with an excerpt from it, Chapter 14, which introduces one of the book's more morally ambiguous characters, and employs the darkened bar setting perfect for a noir; it also talks about the New City Project that is at the core of the book's mystery.

— ♦ —

Invisible Streets by Toby Ball

DORMAN HAD A REGULAR TABLE AT the Ares Club, a semicircular booth around a half-moon glass-top in a dark corner of the dark room. The house band played their usual languid jazz, backing a woman who sang in Portuguese, her voice weightless. From where he sat the band was hard to make out beneath the red spotlights and the haze of smoke. He sat alone, some papers on the table, his briefcase on the bench beside him. His martini glass was empty.
  He leafed through a report on the upcoming destruction of the neighborhood surrounding St. Stanislaw's church — who would handle the demolition, the waste removal, the infrastructure improvements, and so on. In each of these contracts, extra funds had been allocated, though they would never make it to the contractor. This was the grease, the money that ensured that everything ran smoothly. It wasn't even a matter of keeping two ledgers. The contractors simply invoiced for more than they needed and didn't complain when they only got their actual price. Not complicated. The hardest thing about it was keeping Canada far enough removed from these deals that he couldn't be implicated. Canada was always worried about this distance. He needed it both for (obvious) legal reasons, but also to avoid having the petty corruption used as leverage against him.
  Dorman was always protecting Canada, had been for more than two years since he'd taken the job as Canada's right-hand man, straight out of the Navy. Dorman had come out of the service with a big reputation, and Canada had brought him in to interview based on what he'd heard from people who'd met him. Canada had pitched him — you will be an integral part of the most important urban planning project in a century. We need someone uncorrupted in this position — someone incorruptible.
  But why him?
  Canada had leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers over his fleshy middle. "There are plenty of untouchables out there, Mr. Dorman, but few who know how to persuade and fewer still who have both these qualities and are willing to play the hard game, as well."
  So Canada had hired him — the man who could not be corrupted — dropped him into a sea of corruption and told him to navigate without getting wet.
  
A THIN BLONDE SHEATHED IN A BLACK COCKTAIL DRESS APPROACHED with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Dorman sat back, took in her big, heavy-lidded eyes, her cupid's-bow mouth, her slender legs.
  "Care for a 1923?" She spoke with an accent, something Eastern
  European. Dorman had never asked her where she was from, exactly, and she'd never offered.
  "Sure." He watched as she put the glasses down, uncorked the bottle with unhurried grace. She poured wine into the two glasses and slid in next to him, crossing her legs so that her foot barely brushed his thigh. His mouth went dry.
  "Still working?" She sipped her wine. He knew her as Anastasia, though he was sure this was not her real name. The only women inside the club were employees, and they all used fake names. It was a house rule.
  "I could work all day and all night. I just need a reason to stop."
  "Like me?"
  Dorman nodded and took a sip. Anastasia nearly always came to sit with him when he was here, maybe four or five nights a week. A couple of times in the past another girl had come because Anastasia was out, but the club liked to pair each member with the same girl every visit, build a certain kind of relationship — a mix of discretion and ambiguity.
  "You are tired," Anastasia said, her lips shining as candlelight reflected off the sheen of the wine.
  "It's been a long day."
  It was always a long day. She waited, running her finger around the rim of the glass. She was patient; she would listen when he was ready to talk. Discretion is what they sold at the Ares, billed as a place for men to unburden themselves of their secrets to women who would keep them.
  But Dorman couldn't make the leap. "Complications at work."
  
WHAT HE DIDN'T TELL HER:
  Before lunch, Canada called him into his office, Dorman noting the dozen or so cigarettes already lying crushed in the ashtray. Canada sat still in his chair, looking over his reading glasses at Dorman, lit cigarette in one hand, the fingers of the other drumming on his desk. He knew. No point in trying to finesse it.
  "I wanted to wait, try to get some information."
  Canada snorted, pissed off. "More information," he said quietly.
  "Before I told you, Mr. Canada."
  Canada took a deep breath, responded in a voice tight with anger. "You think I'm willing to fucking wait to hear that a trailer full of dynamite was stolen? You think I want to hear it from that goddamn spic . . . Jorge, what the hell was his name . . . Goddamn it. It doesn't matter. What matters is I get this goddamned call about a fucking explosives robbery, and I'm caught with my shriveled cock in my hand."
  Dorman waited, knowing there was more.
  "While you've been doing whatever the fuck it is you've been doing, I've been working your goddamn job for you, and it hasn't been pretty. I had to call that fuckwit Ving, ask him to send over Zwieg. Ask him, for the love of Christ. Ving doesn't even know what the fuck's going on, but I tell him, send the stupid Neanderthal over. Zwieg comes in here and I have to explain to him in minute goddamn detail the method by which I will castrate him if there is a leak. I don't deal with shitheads like Zwieg. That's why I have you."
  Canada took a moment to settle, bring his volume back down to conversational.
  "Take care of the press. Figure out what they've got. If you need to bargain, give them something — the cash that priest down in Little Lisbon paid to those Turks to let the Crosstown run through their backyard. That's history at this point, no harm."
  Having ridden out Canada's temper, Dorman nodded, flashed the boss his cocky half-grin, the one that seemed to inspire confidence. He was good at his job. He'd take care of the problems.
  
"COMPLICATIONS," SHE ECHOED, HER VOICE BETRAYING NOTHING.
  He didn't tell her about his visit earlier that evening to the steamy basement of St. Stanislaw's Orthodox Church, the pipes from the boiler radiating heat in the close quarters, clanging as air bubbles forced their way through the ancient system. The men waiting around the table wore ties despite the stifling temperature, their sleeves rolled up. They mopped their brows with handkerchiefs.
  The leader of the neighborhood delegation was Peter Trochowski, a stocky man, white hair ringing his bald crown, a red drinker's nose.
  "Mr. Dorman — "
  "Call me Phil, Mr. Trochowski," Dorman was alone, as he liked to be when he had to do this kind of work. He wasn't in any physical danger. No one would cross Nathan Canada.
  Trochowski's collar was dark with sweat. "You have to understand that the Crosstown will destroy our neighborhood, the biggest Polish neighborhood in the City. This will be a tragedy, a wrong that cannot be corrected later."
  Dorman nodded, half-listening. He'd heard it before — again and again. He gave the same answers that he always gave: "We are well aware of the enormous impact that the Crosstown will have on your community, etc., etc. We will make every effort to help relocate both people and businesses, and so on." Christ, it was hot in there.
  The old man reacted the way they often did — with desperation. "This cannot happen in America."
  This part was never his favorite, but it was important. People needed to understand that their narrow interests couldn't take precedence over the good of the City.
  "Actually, Mr. Trochowski, in America we can take your neighborhood from you if it is in the best interest of the state, which, I'm afraid, this is." He saw the loathing in their glares, felt it as an almost physical sensation.
  He said, "I need you to understand that if we don't build the Crosstown, the New City Project will not be completed, and if it is not completed every expert agrees that the City will die. Commerce will leave the City and the City will die and with it, your neighborhood."
  Trochowski, his face bright red and shedding sweat, wasn't convinced. They never were at first.
  "Let me explain it another way, Mr. Trochowski. Your neighborhood is already gone. The decision has been made. It's too late to change that. We've made this situation plain with communities before, and we will make it plain to communities in the future. You can cooperate with us, and we will do our best to help you during this time of change. You can also cause problems, like the incident that you no doubt read about in yesterday's paper, and in that case we will be less . . . predisposed toward your community's welfare." He kept his voice even. You had to be calm, keep it from getting personal, but never retreat for even a second. You could not give any hint that there was room for negotiation, because there wasn't. It was a done deal. This way was better for everyone.
  He showed them the case with the money, watched the effect that the stacks of bills had on the men's faces.
  Trochowski leaned forward over the table, sweat dropping onto the top bills. "We cannot be bought."
  "We're not trying to buy you, sir. We don't need to buy you. We're trying to help you. That's all we can do now."
  Trochowski stood and slammed the case shut. Sometimes they started by refusing the money. They usually came around.
  It was a fool's errand trying to explain to people that while he — Dorman — understood their distress and the devastating effect that the Crosstown would have on their lives, not building the Crosstown would have a different but no less devastating outcome for them as the City crumbled around them. Most didn't understand, and if they did, they couldn't see why it had to be their neighborhood and not the one to the east or to the west. These were decisions made through a calculus of money and influence. He didn't want to know the details, only to have to keep them from people. The details weren't his problem.
  As he emerged from the old church onto the steps leading down to the sidewalk, he'd heard a whistle and followed the sound across the street, up to the roof of a four-story apartment building. A crude dummy fashioned from pillows hung from a noose dangling from the roof. Even from that distance, Dorman was able to read "Canada" written on the sign attached to the dummy's chest.
  
NEAR TWO IN THE MORNING, TIRED AND DRUNK, DORMAN GATHERED HIS papers, another night passed without being able to confide to Anastasia.
  He knew that people here took the girls home sometimes, but he had never done that with her. He wasn't sure that he wanted to risk somehow queering their limited relationship. But he felt the tightening in his chest as he stood and she walked with him to the door, her hand on his arm. They paused at the threshold. He looked in her eyes, but she was unreadable.

Copyright © Toby Ball from Invisible Streets, published by The Overlook Press.
All rights reserved.

— ♦ —

Toby Ball
Photo provided courtesy of
Toby Ball

Toby Ball lives in Durham, NH with his wife and two children. He works at the Crimes Against Children Research Center and the Family Research Laboratory at the University of New Hampshire.

For more information about the author, please visit his website at TobyBall.com or find him on Facebook and Twitter.

— ♦ —

Invisible Streets by Toby Ball

Invisible Streets
Toby Ball
A Suspense Thriller

It's the mid-1960s, and the City is a hulking shell of itself. Bohemians, crooks, and snarling anti-Communists have their run of the place, but if Nathan Canada has his way, all this decline and decadence will soon be nothing but a distant memory. His New City Project will paper over the grit and the grime, making the City safe for the rich. According to Canada and his influential allies, the project is the City's last best hope — but according to everyone else in town, it's a death knell.

So when the Project's cache of explosives goes missing, everyone is a suspect, and police detective Torsten Grip finds himself up against a ticking clock and a wall of silence. Meanwhile journalist Frank Frings — the last honest man in the City — sets out to find his friend's grandson, who has gotten himself involved with Kollectiv 61, a radical group that Grip believes holds the key to the investigation. And in the middle of it all is Canada's enforcer Phil Dorman, whose job is to ensure that the City's corruption and chaos remain at a boil — but never more than that.

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Please Welcome Back Mystery Author Lauren Carr

Omnimystery News: Guest Post by Lauren Carr
with Lauren Carr

We are delighted to welcome back mystery author Lauren Carr to Omnimystery News.

Lauren's second mystery in the "Lovers in Crime" series, Real Murder (Acorn Book Services; May 2014 trade paperback and ebook formats), features the return of detective Cameron Gates and attorney Joshua Thornton, and we asked her to tell us a little more about her characters. She titles her guest post for us today, "Meet Homicide Detective Cameron Gates".

— ♦ —

Lauren Carr
Photo provided courtesy of
Lauren Carr

Creating imaginary friends (now I rationalize this insane habit by calling it "character development") has become my favorite part of putting a mystery together. Luckily, most readers enjoy seeing the mixed group of quirky characters that I plop into the midst of a murder mystery.

Just as I thought I had a good handle on this literary chore — Homicide Detective Cameron Gates blasted into my life.

The female half of the Lovers in Crime Mysteries is without a doubt the most difficult and complicated character I have created — which makes her one of my favorite.

The Lovers in Crime Mysteries grew out of my first mystery series, the Joshua Thornton Mysteries. At the request of several readers, I decided to bring back Joshua Thornton in Shades of Murder, the third installment in the Mac Faraday Mysteries.

Shades of Murder is two mysteries in one. Mac Faraday is investigating the murder of a famous artist in Deep Creek Lake, while Joshua Thornton is diving into the cold case of a woman killed in the Pittsburgh area. The two seemingly unrelated cases collide in the middle. That is when my two detectives (Mac Faraday and Joshua Thornton), from two different series, meet.

While resurrecting my first detective Joshua Thornton, several years since my last mystery which featured him in A Reunion to Die For, I realized that now was the perfect time for this widower with five grown children to have a little romance in his life — preferably a homicide detective to share in his love of mystery.

In walked Pennsylvania State Police Homicide Detective Cameron Gates.

The Problem: Creating a strong, savvy, sassy female detective capable of going toe to toe with the big boys while still being likeable to readers.

Big surprise there. Hasn't that been the overall problem of women everywhere for several generations?

Authors who pen mysteries with strong female leads, especially police officers and detectives have to walk a tightrope. If the female detective or lawyer or whatever is too tough, she's perceived by some readers as bitchy. If she's too soft, then readers will claim that she's too weak and unbelievable for the job position that she's in.

Think about it.

If, in the latest Lovers in Crime Mystery, Real Murder, Detective Cameron Gates were to break down into tears when the kindly little old lady across the street is brutally murdered, readers would balk. "She's a trained police officer. What kind of police officer cries at a murder scene, even if she is a nice old lady?"

Or, if she were to back off as soon as the sheriff claims the murder is his case and warns Cameron not to go poking into his case, then readers may sense that she lacks the perseverance that goes with being an ace detective.

However, if Cameron were to launch into a curse-filled debate with the sheriff, declaring that she was on the case whether he liked it or not, then readers would find the female half of the lovers in crime to be less than loveable. How rude! I can hear some readers say.

So, my challenge, as a writer was to find a middle ground — make Homicide Detective Cameron Gates tough, but loveable.

Below is how Cameron Gates negotiated the delicate situation with Sheriff Curt Sawyer outside the murder scene of Dolly Houseman, the elderly neighbor living across the street from Cameron and Joshua's home in the Real Murder, the latest Lovers in Crime Mystery:

  Cameron caught up with Tad when he came out of the house after ordering the morgue attendants to prepare Dolly Houseman for transport to his morgue.
  "Awful lot of blood on the scene," she said to him.
  Tad's face was pale. His eyes met Cameron. "I've known Dolly my whole life," he said with a husky voice.
  "I'm sorry, Tad," she said in a low tone. "I've known her less than a day, but we did become friends. I promised her that I would find out who killed one of her girls, and now I'm going to find out who killed her."
  "You're out of your jurisdiction, Cameron," Curt said from behind her. "I hate to be territorial, but this is our case."
  "Don't you find it to be a pretty big coincidence that on the same day that Josh and I came to talk to you about Ava Tucker's murder, her madam, who asked for my help in finding Ava's killer, gets offed?"
  The sheriff planted his hands on his hips. "For the sake of my professional relationship with your husband, I hope you're not suggesting something, Gates."
  "Just saying," she replied. "Don't tell me that you don't find the timing interesting. Here's another coincidence. Mike Gardner has been missing for close to twenty years. He told Josh that he was investigating the murder of a prosti¬tute. Dolly confirmed that he was investigating Ava's murder. Now, one day after his body is found, Dolly gets murdered in her own home." She asked the sheriff, "Was there any sign of a break in?"
  "Not that we can see."
  "That's not such a big clue," Tad said. "I know for a fact that Dolly didn't lock her doors."
  "It has to be someone who knew that Dolly had managed to get me interested in the case," Cameron said.
  "Not necessarily," Curt said. "She was an old woman who lived alone and didn't lock her doors. That makes her easy pickings for a kid out to rob her."
  "She was stabbed multiple times," Tad said. "Clearly it was overkill. That points to a crime of passion. Not your usual type of murder that occurs during a break-in."
  "Did you find the murder weapon on the scene?" Cameron asked both of them.
  "Yes," Curt said, "it appeared to be a butcher knife from the victim's kitchen. Forensics is still working the scene. If we're lucky, there will be fingerprints on it."
  "Weapon of convenience," she said. "Or the killer brought his own weapon but opted for the knife."
  "Gates?" Curt asked.
  "Yes, Sheriff?"
  "Did you hear me say that this is my case?"
  "Yes, I heard you," Cameron replied before turning to Tad. "When will you have the autopsy done?"
  "I'll get on it first thing in the morning."
  "Then I'll be calling you," she said.

How's that for being persistent without being bitchy, loveable without being weak?

I am confident that once you get to know this spunky feminine half of the Lovers in Crime, that you'll fall in love with her just like Joshua Thornton (the masculine half) did.

That's what makes them the Lovers in Crime.

Fall in love with Cameron Gates, Joshua Thornton, and their family in friends in the latest Lovers in Crime Mystery, Real Murder.

— ♦ —

Lauren Carr is a popular speaker who has made appearances at schools, youth groups, and on author panels at conventions. She also passes on what she has learned in her years of writing and publishing by conducting workshops and teaching in community education classes.

The owner of Acorn Book Services, Lauren is also a publishing manager, consultant, editor, cover and layout designer, and marketing agent for independent authors. This year, several books, over a variety of genre, written by independent authors will be released through the management of Acorn Book Services, which is currently accepting submissions. Visit the Acorn Book Services website for more information.

Lauren lives with her husband, son, and three dogs on a mountain in Harpers Ferry, WV. For more information about the author and her work, please visit her website at MysteryLady.net, read her Literary Wealth blog, or find her on Facebook.

— ♦ —

Real Murder by Lauren Carr

Real Murder
Lauren Carr
A Lovers in Crime Mystery

When Homicide Detective Cameron Gates befriends Dolly, the little old lady who lives across the street, she is warned not to get lured into helping the elderly woman by investigating the unsolved murder of one of her girls. "She's senile," Cameron is warned. "It's not a real murder."

Such is not the case. After Dolly is brutally murdered, Cameron discovers that the sweet blue-haired lady's "girl" was a call girl, who had been killed in a mysterious double homicide.

Meanwhile, Prosecuting Attorney Joshua Thornton is looking for answers to the murder of a childhood friend, a sheriff deputy whose cruiser is found at the bottom of a lake. The deputy had disappeared almost twenty years ago while privately investigating the murder of a local prostitute.

It doesn't take long for the Lovers in Crime to put their cases together to reveal a long-kept secret that some believe is worth killing to keep undercover.

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