is a mystery/thriller/love story in which a brilliant and dangerous ideologue
attempts to eliminate a university’s genetics institute by holding the
university’s president hostage.
the same day that Isabel Canto, associate director of Pembrook Atlantic
University’s Institute for Genome Modification, discovers she is pregnant with
IGM post-doc Frank Marks’s baby, Pembrook Atlantic University’s president Mary
Ellen Mackin receives a letter from “Aldo” threatening harm if she does not
dissolve the institute and fire its director. Isabel recommends that Mackin
refuse and not allow a terrorist to dictate what her faculty and students can
research and discover, but this advice unwittingly sets off a chain of events
that will change many lives forever—including hers.
graduating from Pomona College in 1968, Betty Jean Craige has been a teacher,
scholar, translator, columnist, and mystery writer. She retired from the
University of Georgia in 2011 as University Professor of Comparative Literature
and Director of the Willson Center for Humanities and Arts. After retiring she
published a Sunday column in the local paper about animal behavior titled
“Cosmo Talks” and a book titled Conversations with Cosmo: At Home with an
African Gray Parrot. Then she began writing fiction. Her Witherston Murder
Mystery series, set in north Georgia, includes Downstream, Fairfield’s Auction
(First Place in Chanticleer Book Awards’ category of Mystery and Mayhem), Dam
Witherston (Honorable Mention in the 2017 Royal Dragonfly Book Awards for
Mystery, and Distinguished Favorite in 2018 Independent Press Awards), and
Chieftains in Witherston (scheduled to be published in 2019). A suspense novel,
Aldo, came out in 2018.
When Dan Burton beats up Antoine Bousquet, the clothing designer suspect in the murder of two Chinese seamstresses, he jeopardizes his job as a homicide detective and his life. Bousquet is released without bail because of Burton’s mistake. When Bousquet turns up dead, beaten and tortured, Burton becomes the prime suspect. The department’s Internal Affairs inspectors, Bousquet’s live-in lover, several Russian gangsters, and the kingpin of the Boston underworld are all looking for Burton. But Elder Darrow, his best friend and proprietor of the Esposito bar, hides Burton and helps save his position on the Boston Police Department and rescue him from death. In the process, they expose an evil scheme by which illegal immigrants were effectively enslaved to work in Antoine Bousquet’s sweat shops.
Other Books in the Elder Darrow Mystery Series:
In Solo Time
An Elder Darrow Mystery, Book 1
Publisher: Encircle Publications
Published: September 2017
An alcoholic walks into a bar . . . and buys it. At the urging of his sometimes lover and sometimes drinking partner Jacquie Robillard, Elder Darrow uses the last of the money from the trust fund his mother left him to buy the Esposito, a bucket-of-blood bar in Boston that he plans to turn into a jazz nightclub. But before he can turn the place around, the body of Timmy McGuire, a jazz guitar player, shows up on the small stage at the Esposito, stabbed to death.
Dan Burton, a Boston Homicide detective, likes Jacquie for the murder. She had a contentious relationship with the guitar player (and a few other men along the way). But one of the other men Jacquie is involved with is the son of an old-line Boston landlord with political designs on the commonwealth’s governorship. Burton arrests Jacquie for Timmy McGuire’s murder but Elder is certain something darker and deeper than a lover’s quarrel is at stake.
Jacquie is released on bail. When she shows up dead, Elder is drawn into a conspiracy going back to Timmy’s childhood, an arson in the three-decker in Mattapan where he grew up, and the unraveling of a political conspiracy. Elder’s need to solve Timmy’s murder peaks when his jazz singer lady friend, Alison Somers, is kidnapped by the perpetrators. In the end, he has to solve the mystery and rescue Alison without the help of the police or anyone else.
An alcoholic walks into a bar . . . and buys it. In this amateur sleuth mystery, Elder Darrow uses the last of the money from the trust fund his mother left him to buy the Esposito, a bucket-of-blood bar in Boston, hoping to turn it into a jazz nightspot. Though he knows that working in a bar is going to test his sobriety, he’s relying on the support of his ex-lover, a jazz singer named Alison Somers.
The two of them split when Alison moved to New York to further her career but before she left, the two of them made a pact: he’ll stay off the booze if she keeps taking her antidepressants, which keep her from another suicide attempt. Then one day Elder hears that Alison has killed herself by diving out her apartment window.
With his sobriety threatened, he follows an instinct that says she wouldn’t have quit taking her meds, or killed herself, without talking to him first. Along the way, Elder encounters a beautiful collector of jazz memorabilia, a Native American gangster with aspirations to management, and a bomb-throwing piano player, as well as the usual stresses and strains of running a bar. But with the reluctant help of his friend Dan Burton, a homicide cop, Elder investigates and exposes the conspiracy of local thugs, corrupt physicians, and shipments of pharmaceuticals of questionable quality, proving that Alison was murdered and who was responsible.
Richard Cass is the author of the Elder Darrow jazz mystery series: Solo Act was a finalist for the 2017 Maine Literary Awards in Crime Fiction. Its prequel, In Solo Time, won the 2018 Maine Literary Award in Crime Fiction. The third book in the series, Burton’s Solo, was released November 1. Cass serves on the board of Mystery Writers of America’s New England Chapter.
Cass holds a graduate degree in writing from the University of New Hampshire, where he studied with Thomas Williams, Jr. and Joseph Monninger. He has also studied with Ernest Hebert, Ursula K. LeGuin, and Molly Gloss. He has been an Individual Artist’s Fellow for the state of New Hampshire and a Fellow at the Fishtrap Writers’ Conference in Oregon. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Playboy, Gray’s Sporting Journal, ZZYZVA, and Best Short Stories of the American West. Cass lives in Cape Elizabeth. Visit: rjcassbooks.com.
In Marilyn Baron’s The Alibi, a cover-up could cost heroine Merritt Saxe her life.
Merritt Saxe, newly hired public relations specialist with the Florida prison system, answers an urgent plea from their division’s director, Willard Ware Baintree. Following his orders, she finds him in the apartment of his mistress, his bloody T-shirt and the mistress’s dead body convincing her the criminal justice superstar is himself a criminal. The director claims he didn’t kill the woman and coerces Merritt into being his alibi.
Meanwhile, as the director pulls her farther into his web of lies, Merritt breaks with her longstanding boyfriend and begins a steamy relationship with hunky attorney Israel Goodspeed, whose brother works for the director. Yet how can she trust Israel with her secret or her heart when she suspects the director has been orchestrating their relationship to keep her in line? Speaking out about the cover-up could cost her more than time in jail…it could cost her life.
Available now for $3.99 only. Grab your copy today.
Follow the upcoming book tour from September 25 – October 7, 2017.
Watch out for exclusive excerpts, book reviews, interviews, and more.
To check the latest tour schedule, visit the The Alibi Book Page at Book Unleashed.
WIN $25 GIFT CARD AND MORE!
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$25 Amazon Gift Card
eBook copy of Stumble Stones
Stilt House print by Florida artist Sharon Goldman* * “Stilt House,” a signed, matted decorative print by Florida artist Sharon Goldman. Stilt House is on St. George Island off the Florida Panhandle, where The Alibi is set. The location is representative of where the hero and heroine go for their weekend beach getaway.
Marilyn Baron writes in a variety of genres, from humorous coming-of-middle age women’s fiction to historical romantic thrillers and romantic suspense to paranormal/fantasy. She’s published 13 novels with The Wild Rose Press, five short stories with TWB Press and self-published three books. AmazonEncore republished her book Sixth Sense on September 15, 2015. She’s received writing awards in Single Title, Suspense Romance, Novel With Strong Romantic Elements and Paranormal//Fantasy Romance. She is a Georgia Romance Writers (GRW) Maggie Award winner. She is the Finalist in the 2017 Georgia Author of the Year Award for Stumble Stones: A Novel in the Romance Category. She’s a PAN member of Romance Writers of America and GRW and winner of the GRW 2009 Chapter Service Award. A public relations consultant in Atlanta, Marilyn graduated with a BS in Journalism and a minor in Creative Writing from the University of Florida. She worked in Public Relations for AT&T in Atlanta for 13 years before starting her own PR firm. She serves on the 2017-18 Roswell Reads Steering Committee. She was selected as a featured author in the 2016 Atlanta Authors Series. She presented on a panel at the 2017 AJC-Decatur Book Festival (the largest independent book festival in the country) on September 3, 2017. Read more about Marilyn at http://www.marilynbaron.com.
Are the deacons of Shalom Bethel invincible? Legend has it that in the 1940’s, they came out of a gunfight with holes in their clothes but not their skin. Bullets bounced off of them. They walked through buckshots like water. That story is passed down by every deacon. The legend of Stephen Stone. That legend is about to be tested.
On the heels of a nightclub triple murder, a mysterious blizzard hits Shalom, a city normally warm year round. The blizzard brings with it bitter memories and ghosts Deacon Oak East thought were long gone: his prior drug conviction, his on and off relationship with his wife, the gruesome murder of his father and the role he played in it. But it’s not just the past that haunts him. In the present, a homicide detective wants him and the deacons for the nightclub murders. And a gangster named Cap Morgan wants revenge. The snow is falling. But soon, it will be raining bullets. Is the legend true? Are the deacons of Shalom Bethel bulletproof?
The early evening air cooled Oak’s skin and caused it to tighten. The sensation was odd, like someone pinching him but all over. Bringing his skin cells closer together? The thought was crazy and Oak traveled back to a biology class in which the teacher was showing a video on mitosis. Cells were dividing, giving rise to two daughter cells with the same number of chromosomes. There were different phases. One in particular where the chromatin seemed to span the two fused cellular bodies. So cool. That’s not what was happening with Oak’s skin. It was tightening…stiffening. And how would that look under a microscope?
He shook those thoughts, jogged up to the duplex and slapped the knocker three times. The door opened and he saw Moody Norco. The man who hated his guts.
“Come on in,” Moody said. “You want something to drink?”
“Nah, I’m working. What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Getting over a cold.”
“No. I mean what’s up?”
“You mean the money?”
“I always mean the money when I ask that question.”
Moody was devious and dangerous. Instead of repelling Oak, this fact attracted him. Pulled him to the man like gravity. An invisible yet powerful force that he couldn’t escape.
He carried the weight of the world into Moody’s apartment that evening. His uncle had kicked him out the house. He had lost the women he loved. And then there was that nagging guilt, the thought that God would never forgive him for what he had done eight years before. Life had burdened him. Perhaps this devious dude was just dangerous enough to remove that burden.
Oak snapped his fingers in Moody’s face. “Come on, man, I don’t have all day.”
“I’m going to warn you right now,” Moody said, “it’s been slow.” He motioned to a half-naked woman who scampered into the back room.
“I don’t care how slow it’s been. You’re delinquent yet again. Frankly, I’m fed up with it.”
Moody’s eyes narrowed. He tightened his fist but nothing more.
“Tell your girl to hurry up with the money,” Oak said.
“C’mon. Let me fix you some Cognac. I know you like that Yack! With Coke, right?”
“Man, you’re trying my patience!” Oak pushed Moody out of the way and stomped into the bedroom, where he figured the woman was counting the money. But there was no woman. Instead, there was an open window, curtains dancing in the breeze and two guys holding sawed off shot guns that were aimed at Oak’s chest.
“You sure you don’t want something to drink?” Moody asked again with a smile as he brandished a silver Saturday Night Special.
“Truth be told,” he said, his pistol pointed at Oak, “I hate you! Why did you all of a sudden get to be boss of the streets? You haven’t put in work. You haven’t done dirt. And what’s worse, if war comes, you’d never be man enough to squeeze a trigger. You’re not a boss!” Moody and his two gunmen backed Oak into the living room. He asked, “You’re not gonna beg for your life?”
“Not at all,” Oak replied.
“Well, I gotta say I’m disappointed.”
Oak shrugged. Sighed. “Well I’ve seen too much evil. Been the cause of too much pain. Being murdered like this is a fitting end.”
“You’re not gonna cry or try to make a deal?”
“Nah. If you’re gonna shoot me, get it over with already.”
Moody chuckled. Smiled. Then his lips straitened. “This wasn’t what I imagined would happen. In my mind, I saw you sniveling, snot dripping over your lips as you begged for your life. Forget about the money. Just don’t kill me, Moody! I would demand that you call me the king. You are the king! Then, I’d make you get down on your knees, your hands folded in prayer and praise. But…”
Oak jumped at Moody like he was going to throw a punch. Moody flinched. His boys flinched too.
“Unbelievable,” Oak laughed. Then he screamed, “Do it!”
Shot guns lifted. Forestocks pumped. Snub nose hammer pulled back. An engine roared and the hood of a SUV came crashing through sheetrock and plaster. It was Sampson, Oak’s bodyguard. Crashing through the wall. Shooting through the windshield.
Shots blazed from every direction. Glass shattered. Sampson took one in his shoulder but served several to Moody and his boys. As they hit the floor, Sampson yelled, “Lay down and stay down!”
“O!” he screamed as he grunted his way towards him. “O.E.!”
“Are you wearing a vest?”
He patted Oak’s chest and back. “Oh my goodness!” he said. “You’re not wearing a vest!”
Oak looked at Sampson and saw that he was bleeding heavily. He took off his shirt and pressed it against his wounded shoulder. He said, “We gotta get you outta here.” Then he helped Sampson to the passenger side of the SUV, got in the driver’s seat, and slowly backed the out of the rubble.
As he drove to Shalom Memorial Hospital, images of the shootout replayed in his head. The ear splitting pops and mind numbing explosions. He racked his brain for a reason why he was still breathing.
He said, “I’m sorry, Sampson. I should have been the one to get shot back there.”
“You did get shot.”
His bodyguard took a deep breath. Winced in pain. “They lit you up, man. You were getting popped left and right.”
“Sampson,” Oak smiled warily, “were you smoking dope while I was in the apartment?”
“I’m serious!” Sampson screamed. “Bullets just bounced off of you. At first I thought it was the adrenaline playing tricks on my mind. But nah. You were just walking through those bullets. I know what I saw.”
About the Author
James Fant is an award winning author who lives in Charleston, SC with his lovely wife and two hilarious children. He received a degree in biology from College of Charleston and a master’s in business administration from Charleston Southern University. His love for literature was forged by the works of Eric Jerome Dickey, Walter Mosley, and Stephen King. He also finds inspiration from screenwriters Shonda Rhimes, Aaron Sorkin and Kurt Sutter. Literarily, James has always been drawn to intelligent yet imperfect characters and he writes novels with them in mind.
This was my seventh James Patterson’s book and I would say he writes better when he is not co-authoring. There were times when I read his Alex Cross‘ series or Women’s Mystery Club series and when I read his Private series or the Mistress. The difference would be in front of you. The difference is like between the day and the night. This fact may be true that he has sold more than combining Stephen King, Dan Brown and John Grisham, also, 19 consecutive No. 1 New York Times bestselling novels, and holds The New York Times record for most bestselling hardcover fiction titles by a single author but books like Mistress, it feels gone are those days when James Patterson was a real Page turner. It is just not his class or I would say, it’s not him. It’s a disgrace the way his books are written nowadays. Mistress being lengthy novel of 448 pages, the plot and the story are acceptable however the way of telling the story, the way of portraying the first person narrative was not good at all. Actually it was pretty bad, no reader would like to read the way this book is written.
In the past, I have always enjoyed Patterson’s books immensely. I used to like his style of short chapters and page turning essence his books had but now it seem, What the hell am I reading? It’s better if I read my textbooks.
After reading 100 pages you would realize that the main character of the book, Ben, might be an interesting character in this psychological thriller but reading further you will realize that before you just had a bad thought. Though I agree, it’s a fast read but I had to force myself to finish it. The character of Ben often goes on and on about mundane facts which have nothing to do at all with the story-line. And due to this he is an annoying character. I am disappointed with this one. Looks like, I’ll have to go back to Alex Cross or Women’s Mystery Club.
I would advise not to buy and waste your money. Either loan it from a library or borrow from the person who has it.
I won’t recommend this one to anyone, and if I do… Dear Devil, I shall rot in hell.