Hello and welcome to the Halloween edition of the Midweek tease. The weather here is lousy, but hopefully the rain will stop before the little goblins come out. Thanks to Angelica Dawson for making this blog hop possible.
This week, I’m teasing from my soon to be released Christmas Suspense novel, Murder & Mistletoe. The book is available for pre-order and will be released November 21, 2018.
Here’s the very first public posting of the cover.
Going home for Christmas can be deadly.
Candy Kayne agrees to go to Black Oaks, the Georgia plantation her ancestor reluctantly left after the Civil War, to meet the family she’s never known and help Steve set a trap for his wife’s killer. Even the wildest tales have a kernel of truth in them and as she learns more about the family’s history, she realizes that coming here may have been the biggest mistake of her life.
Losing Amy almost destroyed Steve Anderson, but when Candy steps into his life, her sweetness chases the dark gloom away. But when he realizes the man who murdered his wife may have set his sights on Candy, he’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep her safe.
And here’s the first ever look at the new book!
“No, God, no, don’t do this. Don’t take them from me this way,” Steve cried, tears coursing down his cheeks, his heart and soul shattered. How could a loving God let this happen? But then God hadn’t always been the one in charge at Black Oaks. You only had to listen to the rumors and know a smidgen of the family’s history to realize that darkness held sway here.
Thick black smoke burned his throat, but nothing could hide the vicious flames still leaping into the sky as firefighters poured gallon after gallon of water on them, slowly bringing the beast to heel. He stood beside one of the massive evergreen oaks that lined the driveway, its branches heavily festooned in mistletoe despite constant efforts to cut it back. Flames soared high into the sky as the original mansion built by Tobias Kayne, a Welsh sea captain turned plantation owner, burned hot and steady, taking with it yet another Kayne woman.
Steve hadn’t wanted to leave her today, that strange sense of doom hanging over him, but she’d insisted. Scotty had his heart set on attending that Little League game in Atlanta. They’d been in the top of the fourth inning when he’d gotten the call—an explosion at Black Oaks, Amy missing.
The speed limit had been irrelevant as they’d raced back to the plantation, stopping at Magnolia Hill where he’d left Scotty with Celia and, with Jeremy by his side, had rushed the last three miles here.
“Steve, this isn’t your fault.” Jeremy held him back. “Maybe she wasn’t in there.”
“Then where the hell is she?” His voice broke on the last word, his cousin’s arms the only thing keeping him on his feet. He pushed Jeremy away. “She would never put Scotty or me through this. If I’d been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Michael growled, grabbing his left arm and yanking him around to face him. “Whatever caused the explosion and fire had nothing to do with you. If you’d been here you would’ve gone up in flames, too. That place was full of chemicals, gases, and other materials for the restoration. Someone screwed up—didn’t close a valve all the way. How many times has your night watchman had to chase kids away from here? Maybe one of them knocked something over that mixed with something else with deadly results. It’s tragic, but it happens. We’ve seen it before. Think of your son. He needs you now more than ever.”
Jeremy scoffed. “If this was an accident, I’m the next lottery winner.”
Steve shook his head. Deep down inside, as an architect, he knew houses were nothing but bricks and boards, windows and roofing materials, paint and wallpaper, but damn it, this place had filled him with foreboding from the moment he’d removed the heavy boards blocking the front door, the stale air, strangely reminiscent of that in the crypt they’d opened last year, making his flesh crawl.
According to Uncle Luke, no one had been inside for more than forty years, not since seventeen-year-old Amelia, s distant cousin, had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. To prevent another accident, the house had been sealed shut until four months ago when this project had started.
Steve didn’t believe in ghosts and curses, even though at least a dozen women had died within its walls, but there was something sinister about the place where the sun never reached. He’d had the oak trees in front of the house trimmed, but that hadn’t dispelled the gloom. Acid roiling in his stomach, he’d begged Amy to reconsider heading this project, but his wife had been as stubborn as they come. Discovering she was pregnant two months ago hadn’t even slowed her down.
Pre-order your copy today! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K27QSLD
Don’t forget to check the other post this week!