An Excerpt from the Courtroom Thriller Lying in Judgment by Gary Corbin

We are delighted to welcome back author Gary Corbin to Omnimystery News.

Earlier this week we talked with Gary about his new courtroom thriller Lying in Judgment (Double Diamond Publishing; March 2016 hardcover, trade paperback and ebook formats) and today he's provided us with an excerpt from it, the second chapter — the murder scene.

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GREEN DIGITS ON THE DASHBOARD OF Peter's pickup changed to 8:45. Across the busy four-lane street, the man and woman in Florentino's Italian Ristorante finished their wine in simultaneous gulps. Neither the distance nor the restaurant's romantic lighting could hide the man's bronze tan despite six solid weeks of autumn rain. Ruggedly handsome, athletic, and clean-shaven, his curly brown hair suffered no thin or balding spots.
  Just like her portraits of the son of a bitch.
  He adjusted the baseball cap covering his own thinning scalp and blew warmth onto his hands. So, this is the guy. After nearly three months of doubt — the increasing frequency of her late nights at the office, a sudden interest in wearing the latest fashions, hurried hang-ups when he happened into the room — suspicion morphed into unwelcome reality.
  Dammit. He'd wanted to be wrong about this. He popped a shelled pistachio nut into his mouth and sucked the salt from it. He chewed it, but found it hard to swallow. He cracked another one open and waited. It all could be very innocent.
  Marcia sat opposite this stranger. She reached across the table to touch his arm. Peter looked away. The pistachio caught in his throat.
  She was so tender with him … like she used to be with Peter. Like she was with everyone else but him now. Early in her career, as a dental hygienist, her soft hands and gentle touch had made her a favorite among her patients, particularly her male patients. She only cleaned their teeth, he reminded himself a hundred times. Still, the idea of her hands on another man drove Peter crazy.
  Especially, now, this man. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands to steady his trembling fingers.
  It was his own damned fault, really. Too much focus on his work, too little on surprising her with flowers or a pair of earrings. A lack of attention to his own appearance. Hours on end in the woodshop, twiddling with time-draining projects — time he could have spent with her. Having dinner out, for example, in a place like Florentino's, where wait staff in white shirts and black ties opened bottles of wine for well-dressed customers at tables covered in white linen.
  She didn't used to go for such fancy places. When they first met, she loved to stroll with him in an isolated meadow for a picnic of fresh fruit, soft bread and hard cheese. Simple pleasures sufficed then, before careers, mortgages, and car payments took over their lives.
  Time to get all of that out of the way. To win her back from job titles and art classes. To keep her — if it wasn't already too late. If she hadn't already decided to throw away eight years of marriage for a guy with a unibrow.
  Marcia touched the chin of her friend — yes, friend, so far as he knew, still only friends — and turned his head, as if posing him for one of her drawings. She held it there a moment while talking to him. Okay, fine. They were just out to talk about art. His suspicions felt foolish. He should go. He reached for the ignition.
  Her hand slid toward the man's lips. He kissed her hand. Her head drew back, as if in a heavy sigh. His lips closed around her finger …
  "You bastards." Never mind what brought him here — he no longer wanted proof of her cheating ways. Instead he wanted to pound on something. He chose the steering wheel. It didn't satisfy, so he smacked it again. Still not enough. Nothing was.
  She pulled her hand away from the man's pock-marked face and said something. Probably a lie. The man smiled, the idiotic grin of a man with only one thing on his mind. He nodded and waved a credit card above his head, like those stupid college boys who wave twenties at bartenders to impress pretty girls. Marcia pulled a dressy jacket over her thin shoulders — an expensive one she hadn't worn in months — and exited the restaurant. Her slimeball date waited a half-minute — for appearances, no doubt — then donned his full-length coat and headed for the door. This could signal the end of their evening … or more to come.
  Only one way to know: Follow them.
  He dreaded what he'd find, and had no idea what he'd do once they reached their destination — probably some cheap, pay-by-the-hour motel.
  They would probably drive separately, too. Best to follow Mr. Unibrow. Peter always knew where to find Marcia. By morning, anyway.
  The man walked around the side of the restaurant to the parking lot in the rear. Peter started his truck, but kept the lights off. After a few minutes, her charcoal Ford Explorer turned left into traffic. Several seconds later, a red Camaro followed her out of the lot. Figures she'd go for somebody who wore his cock on his keychain.
  He turned on his lights and pulled into traffic behind the Camaro. He remained a few cars back, discreet, confident he would not lose the bright red muscle car. Its superior speed wouldn't help much on this road. Plus, his pickup had six cylinders. He'd keep up.
  Marcia was long gone. No matter. He could catch up to her soon enough.
  They drove for fifteen minutes, past one-story strip malls crammed with Mexican restaurants and Asian nail salons, discount gas stations, smoky bars offering video poker and cheap beer, and "lingerie" shops offering rental companionship. The Camaro held a steady speed, passed only the slowest of drivers and rarely changed lanes. Even though he wore no jacket, sweat collected on Peter's scalp and collar. He kept his distance. His hands slipped on the wheel a few times. Wiping them on his pants didn't help.
  At the edge of town, he got stuck behind two cars driving below the speed limit, and the Camaro pulled away. He tailgated the car on the left to encourage the driver to speed up. Still it took thirty eternal seconds, six slaps to the dashboard, and four thumps on the steering wheel to get past the slowpokes. He braked a moment later when a Subaru cut into the left lane, also below the speed limit. He smacked his horn, earned a one-finger salute in response, returned it. The Camaro gained another few hundred yards.
  The driver turned right on Old Fairview Road. Strange. There's no motel that way... ah. "They must be meeting at his place," he said. "Or at a friend's."
  Or, goddammit, at their regular place.
  His heart sagged into his stomach. Hold tight, cowboy. Don't assume. Just follow.
  The Camaro zoomed ahead on the winding, unlit road, barely two cars wide with no centerline and not much shoulder. Thick patches of fog seeped over the drainage ditch from the firs and pines on either side of the road. He leaned forward and focused on the fading taillights. If he lost the guy on this road, he'd never find him.
  The road's sharp curves slowed their pace, and he closed the gap again. Soon the road turned to gravel. The Camaro's dust dropped visibility to almost zero. Peter coughed, rubbed his watering eyes, wanted to spit. He kept his distance and turned off his headlights. The Camaro's taillights, like the seductive eyes of Bathsheba, beckoned him onward.
  They passed a state park turnoff on the right and drove another half-mile. The Camaro turned left on a fork about fifty yards ahead, and he lost sight of him. "Dammit!" He stomped on the gas pedal —
  The driver's side of the red Camaro filled his view, with no time to react. Metal crunched. Glass cracked. Peter's head slammed onto the back of his hand gripping the steering wheel. The cab of the truck spun around him, blurry. Air bags slammed him back into his seat. Something clattered like machine gun fire against the undercarriage. Rocks, maybe. Or gravel.
  The air bags deflated and his vision cleared. His calf spasmed — his foot still jammed the accelerator to the floor. He smashed it onto the brake. A wall of red careened away from his windshield — the Camaro, half-rolling, half-sliding backwards across the gravel. The back end disappeared and the front end tipped skyward, wheels still spinning like crazed dervishes. Steam sprayed from the Camaro's front hood.
  Peter closed his eyes to stop the world from whirling around him. He leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the cushion. By feel, he turned off the ignition. The effort shot pain up his arms. He turned his head left to right, checking for soreness in his neck or back, but found none. Good — at least he hadn't gotten whiplash. Maybe.
  Footsteps crunched in gravel. He blinked open his eyes. The driver of the Camaro appeared through the windshield, carrying something in his right hand — a rod or bar of some kind. The man's face contorted into a snarl, his thick eyebrows arched inwards, nose flared. He raised the bar over his head and swung downward — crack! — onto the hood of Peter's truck.
  "What the —?" Peter unbuckled his seat belt. A second crack! sounded on the hood, followed by the tinkling of broken glass. "Hey!" Peter yelled. "You son of a bitch. Did you just bust my —"
  Crack! Another dent in the hood. The man's face transformed into a grim smile. He drew his arm back again.
  Peter reached behind his truck seat and yanked the tire iron from the kit secured in its compartment. He kicked open the driver's side door and jumped out. After an unsteady moment, he righted himself.
  A shiny metallic object arched toward his face. He swung the tire iron upward, and metal clanged metal. Peter's hand stung and he nearly dropped the black bar. The stranger attacked again. Peter blocked the savage blow with another quick reaction, then jabbed the chiseled end of his tire iron into the other man's startled face. Blood poured out of the man's nose and onto his lips. Still the man charged again, the black rod racing for purchase on Peter's skull.
  This time Peter aimed a more strategic defensive blow, a quick slap of his bar across the invading forearm. The attacker's tire iron rattled to the ground and the man howled in obvious pain. But a moment later he bent over and reached with his good hand for the weapon.
  Peter's foot shot upward into the man's face, knocking him backward. The man screamed, rolled on the ground, then scampered back toward his car.
  Peter followed him. The punk had slept with his wife, smashed his truck, then attacked him with a god damned tire iron. Now he'd pay. He caught up to him at the edge of the ditch and kicked him karate-style across the back. The man landed on the Camaro's windshield. Peter swung at him with the tire iron, just missing his head by an inch. Cracks spiderwebbed across the glass. The man rolled across the car's hood and dove inside the open passenger side door, pulling it shut behind him.
  Peter's breath grew ragged. He lifted the bar above his head and let fly with another blow to the windshield.
  Then, blackness.

— ♦ —

Photo provided courtesy of
Gary Corbin

Gary Corbin is a writer, actor, and playwright in Camas, WA, a suburb of Portland, OR. In addition to writing and editing for private sector, government, individuals, and not-for-profit clients, his creative and journalistic work has been published in BrainstormNW, the Portland Tribune, The Oregonian, and Global Envision, among others. A homebrewer as well as a maker of wine, mead, cider, and soft drinks, Gary is a member of the Oregon Brew Crew and a BJCP National Beer Judge. He loves to ski, cook, and garden, and hopes someday to train his dogs to obey.

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

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Lying in Judgment by Gary Corbin

A Courtroom Thriller

Publisher: Double Diamond Publishing

Peter Robertson, 33, discovers his wife is cheating on him. Following her suspected boyfriend one night, he erupts into a rage, beats him and leaves him to die … or so he thought. Soon he discovers that he has killed the wrong man — a perfect stranger. Six months later, impaneled on a jury, he realizes that the murder being tried is the one he committed. After wrestling with his conscience, he works hard to convince the jury to acquit the accused man. But the prosecution's case is strong as the accused man had both motive and opportunity to commit the murder.

The pressure builds, and Peter begins to slip up, revealing things that only the murderer would know — and Christine, a pretty and intelligent alternate juror, suspects something is amiss. Meanwhile, Peter's wife leaves him, his mother suffers a series of debilitating strokes, and his best friend and employee, accused of sexual harassment, needs Peter's help that he's too preoccupied to give. As jurors one by one declare their intention to convict, Peter's conscience eats away at him and he careens toward nervous breakdown.

— Lying in Judgment by Gary Corbin. Click here to take a Look Inside the book.

A Conversation with Suspense Novelist Dan Newman

We are delighted to welcome back author Dan Newman to Omnimystery News.

Earlier this month we introduced you to Dan's new suspense thriller The Clearing (Diversion Books; April 2016 trade paperback and ebook formats) with an excerpt and today we had the opportunity to follow up with him to talk more about his work.

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Omnimystery News: How did The Clearing come to be titled? And does the title relate tot he story?

Photo provided courtesy of
Dan Newman

Dan Newman: The Clearing describes a location central to the story, to the development of the characters as kids, and in the ultimate resolution. The small dome in the forest was a place where the characters faced a truth in their lives that defined them. And for some, it defined everything from that point on. The title is also a nod to the main character's journey, and his compunction to return to that place to set things right — in whatever ways he might be able to; a kind of clearing of what has haunted him his whole life.

OMN: Was The Clearing your working title as you wrote the book?

DN: It was the title right from the first draft, and I think it was an important part of the development of the story as a whole. I had a very strong idea of what that place looked like, what it felt and smelled like, and the things that existed there. And because the story called for a place that defined the lives of the kids who once played there, it made it a simpler exercise to build a story having already been so familiar with the place — almost a mechanism itself — that was responsible for affecting the characters going forward.

OMN: Into which fiction category would you place this book?

DN: Ah, categorization. Genres. Pigeon holes. Oh, man.

This is one of those elements of the publishing world that I didn't account for when I set out, and something that continues to trip me up to this day. My novel The Clearing is marketed as a thriller, and there's certainly good reason for that, but it's always felt like a tee shirt two sizes too small. It doesn't quite hold everything in. Even the world of cross-over rarely allows you to bridge more than two clearly defined categories. But I get it — categories are very important in the "business" of books; publishers use them all the time to parse out markets, identify readerships and ensure salespeople know exactly what they're going in to sell. It solves very real problems for the business of books, but as a writer, I don't like them.

One of the big disadvantages of genre is that while it may help readers of that category find you, it will also steer those who don't subscribe to that category away from you — and the latter set is almost always a larger group. However, despite my bitching, I recognize that no one has come up with a better alternative yet. Books are a business, and business loves process. So for now, we're stuck with it. Of course the real question is this: as writers, do we evolve in such a way that we end up pandering to the genre models, so that we fit the boxes literary reps are trying to sell against? And is that a good thing or a bad thing? Honestly, I'm not sure. Here's a thought: apparently you can buy cube shaped watermelons now. Why? Because they're more efficient to ship that way, and it solves a problem for the agricultural business. Is changing the shape of the product so that it addresses the concerns of the distributor a good thing? Is anything lost along the way? I'm not sure I know the answer.

OMN: How much of your own personal or professional experience have you included in the book?

DN: This is a question that — if I answer it honestly — generally goes one of two ways: either it garners the book a bit of new interest, of it has people thinking "ooooookay … let's remember to cross the street if we see that guy coming". The reason for this polarizing reaction is the fact that a number of the more astonishing elements of the story are not just based on real events, but for all intents and purposes, describe them. Chief among them is the question of the Bolom, and the night the protagonist, Nate Mason, spends in an old plantation house. The Bolom is part of the folk lore of the Caribbean, and local belief in it is as natural as their belief in, say, wind. You might not be able to see it, but it's widely accepted to exist.

Nate's experience of brushing up against something that hovers just-this-side of supernatural is drawn from my own childhood experiences on the island of St. Lucia, and was basically the nut at the center of the novel. And while the events of that night cosey'd right up to the edge of what you might be willing to believe, there was more that went on in the real life event. That part never made it into the novel, simply because it would fall, for many folks, squarely into the realm of that which is simply too farfetched.

Now, before you go crossing the street to avoid that guy, let me just say that I consider myself a pretty regular person, and I subscribe to the buffet of things we all agree to as real within the world of our western education. That said, my experiences as a kid in St. Lucia have left me open to the possibility that perhaps not everything has been categorized and described by science. At least not yet.

OMN: How did you go about researching the plot points of the story?

DN: For The Clearing in particular, much of the foundation upon which the story is constructed — that is to say, the sense of place that needed to exist for the story to hang together — is a function of memory, and of my own experiences growing up on St. Lucia as a kid. All the places in the novel are real, although some have had their names changed. I lived on the island for 5 years and left when I was about 14, and so my memory of that period is a consistent and persistent one, like a snapshot of a single moment. My image of the island was never diluted by the act of living there longer and seeing it change. It was never eroded by the passage of time. St. Lucia in the late 70s is perfectly preserved for me, and I think having that clear access was very useful when it came to putting it all down in the novel. However, that kind of life texture only gets you so far. For the story two work, I needed to have a better understanding of Obeah, a west Indian practice that we all had a vague understanding of as kids, and of which we were quite careful around. Obeah is an important element of the book, and so getting it right was going to require more detail, more authenticity. The same went for patois — the pigeon French that's spoken on the island — as expressions and local slang handled poorly can kill a book like this by slashing at the sense of distance between what happens on the island and that comfy little spot on your sofa.

The web is always a great starting place, but the real juice came from people — people who lived there. Speaking to St. Lucians was of course important, and while most of the information was anecdotal, what it lacked in annotated detail it made up for (in spades) in authenticity. Grandmothers were the key. Once you find a St. Lucian with a grandmother, you've hit the, well … the grandmother-load.

OMN: What is the best advice you've received as an author?

DN: There's really two pieces of advice I've received that stuck. One was more general and life-oriented, and the other based squarely in writing. The first was this: You can do anything; you just can't do everything. For me, it's a message about focus. If you want to be a rock star, and you're willing to give it your singular focus, I'm a believer that you'll achieve that goal. Just don't try to be a lawyer at the same time.

The other bit of advice I've held on to — and this was directed at my pursuit of being a published novelist — was simply this: Be persistent. Everything associated with publishing takes an inordinate amount of time. It moves with glacier-like speed and has just as many crevasses that will happily swallow your hopes and dreams — if you let them. The trick is to bullet-proof yourself. For a long time I hung onto the rejections I received in the query process, seeing them as hard proof that I was committed to my publishing dream. But in reality I was only reinforcing the failures. And if there's one thing you don't need in a business where you're exposing yourself daily to the world and saying, "hey what do you think of my creative ability?" it's being reminded of those who don't think much of it at all.

If I have any advice at all for folks who fall into the category of "aspiring authors" (and I still put myself in that group because like all of us, that next book still needs writing), it's to remember that publishing is a business, and as writers we disregard our part in the "business" of books at our own peril. Once you have that first publishing contract in hand, and once you've come back down to earth off that rather amazing and unforgettable high, begin to immediately transform into your book's marketing team. The publisher will be there to help, but it's a lonely truth that there is no larger fan of your book at this point in time than you. So remember — publishing is a business. Abandon the Hemmingway-esque idea that your role is to be the creative force and that the publishing machine is simply waiting to launch your genius to the world. Those days are gone. You are indeed the creative force, and hell — you might even be a genius — but it will serve you well to remember that you're also the machine. So get busy.

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Dan Newman is an Englishman by birth, a Canadian by immigration, and amalgam of several wonderful places in Southern Africa by virtue of the time he spent there growing up. He's a citizen of the beach thanks to his formative years spent in the Caribbean, and is a self-described Australian enviator, which means he envies all that someone else has, thanks to the time he spent there at Grad school, and the hours and days he spent trying desperately to look like he knew what he was doing on a surfboard.

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

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The Clearing by Dan Newman

A Novel of Suspense

Publisher: Diversion Books

Some moments linger forever. Some curses can't be broken. Some crimes refuse to stay buried …

A young man returns to St. Lucia, where he grew up, and where his guilt for the part he played in a murder continues to haunt.

Now, thirty years later, Nate responds to his father's suicide with a trip back to St. Lucia, the land where he was raised as an outsider, tolerated but not accepted. As a boy he ventured out to the plantation of Ti Fenwe with three others — weak-willed Pip, and cousins Richard and Tristan. Surrounded on all sides by dense jungle, the boys explore, their only rule to be back in the house before nightfall. Because at Ti Fenwe, something ancient stalks the jungle, its reputation more horrifying than any of the boys can comprehend.

But it's a very real enemy who changes the boys forever, and snuffs out a life. Decades later, Nate comes back to finally gain a measure of peace over his role in the killing, and to uncover the deadly secrets of St. Lucia once and for all.

— The Clearing by Dan Newman

Today's Selection of Daily Deals for Friday, April 29, 2016

Omnimystery News is pleased to feature a selection of today's Daily Deals found on Friday, April 29, 2016 at 7:30 AM ET …

Shame by Alan Russell

A Novel of Suspense

Publisher: Thomas & Mercer

Kindle Daily Deal Price: $1.99

Click here to take a Look Inside Shame.

Although it's been many years since the death of his father — an infamous serial killer known as Shame — Caleb Parker still struggles to free himself from his father's dark shadow. Caleb wishes only for a normal life without being branded a "killer's son," but his dreams are shattered when a new string of murders surfaces that are all too reminiscent of Shame's terrible killings.

When the police label him the prime suspect, Caleb forges an unlikely partnership with true-crime author Elizabeth Line, a writer whose career began when she survived an encounter with Shame and who then went on to document his life — and death. As the body count begins to pile up, Elizabeth and Caleb come to the conclusion that one of them has been targeted by the killer, and a game of cat and mouse begins as they try to uncover the murderer's identity before becoming his next victims.

— Shame by Alan Russell

Beautiful, Dirty, Rich by J. D. Mason

A Novel of Suspense

Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Nook Daily Find Price: $2.99 (price-matched by Amazon)

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Beautiful, Dirty, Rich.

Desdimona Green has been the name on everyone's lips in Blink, Texas. Twenty-five years ago, at the age of eighteen, she shot and killed one of the wealthiest men and pillars of the community, oil baron Julian Gatewood. The Gatewood family was considered untouchable, so the whole state of Texas was rocked to its core over Julian's murder. They were even more shocked to discover that Desi is Julian's daughter and her mother had been his lover for years.

But when Desi gets out of jail and promptly inherits millions from Julian's estate, everyone knows that there is much more to the story — and Desi Green is the keeper of the Gatewood secrets, including what happened the night Julian died. When a famous true crime reporter shows up on her doorstep wanting the full story, Desi agrees to reveal all, much to the horror of the Gatewoods, who will do anything to stop her.

But Desi has more than a few tricks up her sleeve …

— Beautiful, Dirty, Rich by J. D. Mason

What She Knew by Gilly Macmillan

A Novel of Suspense

Publisher: William Morrow

Kobo Daily Deal Price: $1.99 (price-matched by Amazon)

  

Click here to take a Look Inside What She Knew.

In a heartbeat, everything changes …

Rachel Jenner is walking in a Bristol park with her eight-year-old son, Ben, when he asks if he can run ahead. It's an ordinary request on an ordinary Sunday afternoon, and Rachel has no reason to worry — until Ben vanishes.

Police are called, search parties go out, and Rachel, already insecure after her recent divorce, feels herself coming undone. As hours and then days pass without a sign of Ben, everyone who knew him is called into question, from Rachel's newly married ex-husband to her mother-of-the-year sister. Inevitably, media attention focuses on Rachel too, and the public's attitude toward her begins to shift from sympathy to suspicion.

As she desperately pieces together the threadbare clues, Rachel realizes that nothing is quite as she imagined it to be, not even her own judgment. And the greatest dangers may lie not in the anonymous strangers of every parent's nightmares, but behind the familiar smiles of those she trusts the most.

Where is Ben? The clock is ticking …

— What She Knew by Gilly Macmillan

For more deals that may have been found after this post was created, see our Daily Deals page on Omnimystery News for an updated list.

Important Note: Price(s) verified as of the date and time shown. Price(s) are subject to change at any time. The price displayed on the vendor website at the time of the purchase will be the price paid for the book. Please confirm the price of the book before purchasing it.

Today's Selection of Free MystereBooks for Friday, April 29, 2016

Omnimystery News is pleased to feature a selection of Free MystereBooks found on Friday, April 29, 2016 at 7:00 AM ET …

The Vanishing Chemist by Peter Alpert

A Novel of Suspense

Publisher: Peter Alpert

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside The Vanishing Chemist.

Murder Times Nine by J. F. Pratt

A Sudoku Mystery

Publisher: J. F. Pratt

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Murder Times Nine.

Bulldog by Mike Faricy

A Dev Haskell Mystery

Publisher: Credit River Publishing

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Bulldog.

Second-Hand Murder by Blair Merrin

The Bandit Hills Series

Publisher: Summer Prescott Books

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Second-Hand Murder.

Dark Webb by Harry Dayle

The Dark Webb Series

Publisher: Harry Dayle

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Dark Webb.

The Murder Must Go On by Tina Anne

A Theme Park Mystery

Publisher: Tina Anne

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside The Murder Must Go On.

Holliday's Gold by Steeven R. Orr

A Modern Retelling of Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Publisher: Big Beard Books

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Holliday's Gold.

Murder Under the Catwalk by Nancy C. Davis

A Vanessa Abbot, Cat Cozy Mystery

Publisher: Collins Collective

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Murder Under the Catwalk.

Black Water Tales by JeanNicole Rivers

The Secret Keepers

Publisher: JeanNicole Rivers

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Black Water Tales.

Healing by Belinda Kennington

A Novel of Suspense

Publisher: Belinda Kennington

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Healing.

Cadaver Dog by Doug Goodman

A YA Novel of Suspense

Publisher: Doug Goodman

Price: FREE!

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Cadaver Dog.

For a summary of all of today's titles, plus any that may have been added since this post was created, visit our Free MystereBooks page. This page is updated daily, typically by 8 AM ET.

Important Note: Price(s) verified as of the date and time shown. Price(s) are subject to change at any time. The price displayed on the vendor website at the time of the purchase will be the price paid for the book. Please confirm the price of the book before purchasing it.

Kickback, A Nick Dixon Mystery by Damien Boyd, Now Available at a Special Price

Omnimystery News is always searching for newly discounted mystery, suspense, thriller and crime novels for our readers to enjoy.

Today, we're pleased to present the following title, now available at a special price courtesy of the publisher, Thomas & Mercer …

Kickback by Damien Boyd

A Nick Dixon Mystery (3rd in series)

Publisher: Thomas & Mercer

Price: $1.99 (as of 04/28/2016 at 8:00 PM ET).

  

Click here to take a Look Inside Kickback.

A trainee jockey has been kicked to death by an aggressive stallion at the local stables. Deemed an accidental death, the case is closed. But when the jockey's brother returns from active service, he sparks an armed siege, demanding the investigation be re-opened and the truth uncovered.

Still recovering from the physical and mental scars of his last case, Detective Inspector Nick Dixon is dragged deep into a murky world of betting scams and murder, where people will do anything to keep their secrets. Even if that means silencing a DI who keeps asking the wrong questions about the wrong dead jockey …

— Kickback by Damien Boyd

A complete list of today's featured titles can be found on the Discounted MystereBooks page on Omnimystery News.

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.

Review: Speakers of the Dead by J. Aaron Sanders

A Mysterious Review of Speakers of the Dead by J. Aaron Sanders. A Walt Whitman Mystery.

Review summary: This murder mystery is nicely structured, but it's the backdrop of mid-19th century New York City that really shines here. Having real-life poet and journalist Walt Whitman play the role of amateur sleuth seems especially inspired. Highly recommended to fans of historical mysteries. (Click here for text of full review.)

Our rating:

Speakers of the Dead
J. Aaron Sanders
A Walt Whitman Mystery
(March 2016)

Publisher synopsis: The year is 1843; the place: New York City. Aurora reporter Walt Whitman arrives at the Tombs prison yard where his friend Lena Stowe is scheduled to hang for the murder of her husband, Abraham. Walt intends to present evidence on Lena's behalf, but Sheriff Harris turns him away. Lena drops to her death, and Walt vows to posthumously exonerate her.

Walt's estranged boyfriend, Henry Saunders, returns to New York, and the two men uncover a link between body-snatching and Abraham's murder: a man named Samuel Clement. To get to Clement, Walt and Henry descend into a dangerous underworld where resurrection men steal the bodies of the recently deceased and sell them to medical colleges. With no legal means to acquire cadavers, medical students rely on these criminals, and Abraham's involvement with the Bone Bill — legislation that would put the resurrection men out of business — seems to have led to his and Lena's deaths.