Author: Frankie Bow

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The Invasive Species #SampleSunday

The Invasive Species

On the way to interviewing a local farmer, Professor Molly stumbles onto a dismembered body in a field of genetically modified papayas. Molly is sure the murder has nothing to do with her new research project…until a second gruesome death rocks Mahina’s tight farming community, and Molly’s administration drops her research like a hot potato. If Molly can’t root out the bad apples, not only will her tenure case go pear-shaped…she might end up pushing up daisies.

Excerpt

I drove the short distance back to my house and went inside. Branches protruded into the house through the window. The floor underneath was covered with water, leaves, and broken glass. I swept up as much of the mess as I could, then pulled some clean towels from the linen closet and wiped the floor until it was merely damp. That was as good as it would get. In Mahina’s humid climate, nothing ever gets completely dry.
I checked my computer for new email messages. The only one that required an immediate reply was from the Student Retention Office. Linda (they all seem to be named Linda) was asking me to make the required readings in my Intro course optional. I could just imagine how her bright idea would go over with those students who actually had bought the textbook and done the assigned work when class started two months earlier.
Linda had also attached a list of students who “needed” to be excused from the upcoming writing assignment. These exemptions, she explained, were based on results from the new Foundation-funded software connected to our Learning Management System and designed to track student progress in real time.
We hadn’t yet achieved the administrators’ dream of replacing the faculty with software, but we were getting closer.
I wrote back, politely telling Linda the suggested changes were not possible at this time, what with the semester already half over, and thanking her for keeping me “in the loop.” The university’s legal department (blessings upon every one of them) had ruled that because of academic freedom, the Student Retention Office couldn’t require us to dumb down our classes, although they were free to ask us to do so. This verdict had been greeted with wailing and gnashing of teeth on the part of the administration, and much rejoicing by the faculty.
I made sure my reply was sent, packed up my computer, and retrieved my overnight bag from the wrecked carport. I went to my bedroom and collected a week’s worth of outfits, a few items of jewelry, my makeup bag, my special comb for curly hair, and my Alice Mongoose sleep shirt. I took one last look around before I left, to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. It was both liberating and discouraging to realize how little I had worth stealing.

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An academic #midweekmystery: Mistaken Identity Crisis by James J. Cudney

A clever thief with a sinister calling card has invaded Braxton campus. A string of jewelry thefts continues to puzzle the sheriff, given they’re remarkably similar to an unsolved eight-year-old case, back when Gabriel vanished one stormy night.

When a missing ruby, and a body, are discovered at the campus, Kellan must investigate the killer’s motive to protect his brother. As if the latest murder isn’t enough to keep him busy, Kellan partners with April to end the Castigliano and Vargas crime family feud. What really happened to Francesca while all those postcards showed up in Braxton?

The mafia world is more calculating than Kellan realized. If he wants to move forward, he’ll have to make a few ruthless sacrifices. And as the summer heat begins to settle in Wharton County, a couple more surprises are also in store.

About the Author


James is my given name, but most folks call me Jay. I live in New York City, grew up on Long Island, and graduated from Moravian College with a degree in English literature. I spent fifteen years building a technology career in the retail, sports, media, and entertainment industries. I enjoyed my job, but a passion for books and stories had been missing for far too long. I’m a voracious reader in my favorite genres (thriller, suspense, contemporary, mystery, and historical fiction), as books transport me to a different world where I can immerse myself in so many fantastic cultures and places. I’m an avid genealogist who hopes to visit all the German, Scottish, Irish, and British villages my ancestors emigrated from in the 18th and 19th centuries. I frequently blog and publish book reviews on everything I read at ThisIsMyTruthNow via WordPress.
Writing has been a part of my life as much as my heart, my mind, and my body. I decided to pursue my passion by dusting off the creativity inside my head and drafting outlines for several novels. I quickly realized I was back in my element growing happier and more excited with life each day. My goal in writing is to connect with readers who want to be part of great stories and who enjoy interacting with authors. To get a strong picture of who I am, check out my author website or my blog. It’s full of humor and eccentricity, sharing connections with everyone I follow—all in the hope of building a network of friends across the world.
Braxton Campus Mysteries
Academic Curveball – #1 (October 2018)
Broken Heart Attack – #2 (November 2018)
Flower Power Trip – #3 (March 2019)
MistakenIdentity Crisis – #4 (June 2019)

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The Black Thumb #SampleSunday

The Black Thumb

When a violent death disrupts the monthly meeting of the Pua Kala Garden society, Professor Molly Barda has no intention of playing amateur detective. But Molly’s not just a witness–the victim is Molly’s house guest and grad-school frenemy. And Molly quickly finds to her dismay that her interest in the murder of the stylish and self-centered Melanie Polewski is more than just…academic.

Excerpt

At first, I had been glad to hear from Melanie Polewski. I hadn’t seen her since we had both graduated with our doctorates from one of the top ten literature and creative writing programs in the country. I don’t mean to brag. I’m putting it here as a warning to anyone thinking about getting a degree in literature and creative writing. My dissertation advisor had been devastated when I told him I had accepted a position in the Mahina State College of Commerce. I had pointed out the last full-time English department job I’d applied for had over a thousand applicants, and after a year of fruitless job-hunting, I needed to start earning a living wage. I was lucky to get this job, even if it was just “teaching a room full of slack-jawed baseball caps how to pad their resumes,” as my advisor put it.
Melanie had been less fortunate than I. She had floated around after graduation doing freelance editing and, rumor had it, working for one of those villainous websites with a name like wedoyourhomework-dot-com. Using me as a reference, Melanie had managed to land a one-year visiting professorship in the Mahina State English department, and was staying with me until she could find a place of her own.
“You were right,” she whispered. “This is a nice house. Hey, I could buy it, and rent it to you. And then I could stay over whenever.”
She nudged me as she stood up. “Maybe I could take care of Donnie when you’re too tired. Oh, come on, I’m just kidding. Now where did you say the bathroom was?”
I watched her stride back to the house on long, tanned legs, her tawny hair shimmering in the hot sun. This was going to be a long year, I thought.
I had little to contribute to the Garden Society’s discussion of rose-arranging, so I sat and listened, enjoying the lovely garden. We were invisible from the main road, tucked away amidst fragrant roses and well-tended palms and ground cover sprouting vivid green patches on the black lava rock.
There was no scream of anguish. The impact of soft flesh landing on the hard lava made no sound, at least nothing loud enough to be heard over the roar of the river below us. It took the assembled members of the Pua Kala Garden Society a few long seconds to register a young woman lying face-down on the lava in front of us. We sat frozen in place, staring at the earthly remains of Melanie Polewski.

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#MidweekMystery Death by Dissertation and A Crafter Hooks a Killer

Death by Dissertation

Ambitious Cassandra Sato traded her life in Hawai’i for a dream position as Student Affairs VP at Morton College in tiny Carson, Nebraska. She expected the Midwestern church casseroles, land-locked cornfields, and face-freezing winters would be her biggest challenges, but it’s her job that’s rapidly becoming a nightmare.

A deaf student is dead and the investigation reveals a complicated trail of connections between campus food service, a local farmer’s beef, and the science lab’s cancer research. Together with her few allies, Cassandra must protect the students caught up in the entanglement.
Dealing with homesickness, vandalism, and a stalker, Cassandra is trapped in a public relations disaster that could cost her job, or more. No one said college was easy.

My review

Dr. Cassandra Sato, still homesick for Hawaii, becomes enmeshed in a bizarre murder case at a rural Nebraska college. As the stakes ratchet up and the suspects proliferate, Cassandra’s main task is to keep Morton College out of the paper–and herself out of the killer’s crosshairs.
If you’ve ever struggled to fit in at a new job, or if you just enjoy a wry and compelling mystery, pick up Death By Dissertation. The academic personalities were so recognizable that I couldn’t help but laugh (and cringe).  I can’t wait for the next installment!

Death by Dissertation will be 99 cents on Kindle June 22-30.  If you’re a Kindle reader, now’s the time to grab your copy!

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About the Author


Kelly Brakenhoff is an American Sign Language Interpreter whose motivation for learning ASL began in high school when she wanted to converse with her deaf friends. As an American Sign Language Interpreter with more than twenty years of experience, Kelly’s worked in college classrooms for fifteen different majors. From traipsing across muddy farm fields to stomach-churning medical procedures, and stage interpreting for famous figures, Kelly’s community interpreting interactions number in the thousands. Unfortunately, once she’s stepped away from the job, she usually forgets 90% of what happened. Which helps her keep confidential information safe, but also makes it really hard to grocery shop for more than 5 items without a written list.
Kelly wants to live in a world filled with peace, love, and joy, where people who can hear learn enough sign language to include deaf people in everyday conversations and work. Where every deaf child has early access to language and books with characters like them, and dark chocolate is cheap and plentiful.
When she’s not interpreting or writing, you can find Kelly cheering for her favorite Husker teams or training for half-marathons because she really likes dessert.

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A Crafter Hooks a Killer by Holly Quinn

Heavens to Etsy!

Not only must craft store owner Sammy Kane contend with an inauspicious demise or two, she has to untie some knotty details from her own past. Handsome Detective Liam Nash is more than happy to hook up with Sammy, if less than enamored by her sleuthing interventions.
As the case starts to unravel, will Sammy be able to sidestep Liam quickly enough to stitch together the clues?

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About the Author


Holly Quinn is an avid reader and crafter. She dreamed of one day opening a gift shop to sell local artists’ handiwork. But plans changed. Instead of opening a store, she began writing about it.  Thus the Handcrafted Mystery series was born.

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The Cursed Canoe #SampleSunday

The Cursed Canoe

Professor Molly Barda investigates a mysterious paddling accident, and realizes it isn’t just business majors who cheat to get what they want. Whether it’s moving up in the college rankings, getting a seat in the big canoe race, or just looking out for themselves, some people will do whatever it takes-including murder.

Excerpt

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emma do a double-take at the wine shop.

“Actually,” Emma waved her hand to get my attention, “don’t call back. Let him wait. You don’t want to look too eager. You know he’s there and you have his room number, right? I have a plan.”

“A plan? Why does there have to be a plan? What are you talking about?”

“You don’t want to grow old alone, do you? Here’s what you do. You know what kind of wine Donnie likes?”

“I think so.”

“Go in there and pick something out you know he loves. We’ll get checked in, you go shower and clean up, and bring the bottle of wine to his room. Let nature take its course.”

Emma took my arm and moved me toward the door of the wine shop.

“I don’t know, Emma—”

“It’ll be perfect. It’s exactly like the story of Ruth and Boaz.”

“I don’t think Ruth stopped by Boaz’s hotel room with a bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano.”

“No, but she waited until he was asleep, and climbed under the covers with him.”

“What?” I protested. “No, she didn’t! I mean, not the way you’re making it sound.”

“Oh yes she did, Molly. She let him know she was interested. She didn’t leave any doubt. She got cleaned up, put on some nice perfume, and snuck into where Boaz was sleeping. And her mother in law was the one who put her up to it.”

A woman inside the wine shop stepped out from behind the counter and beckoned us inside. We smiled at her and entered the narrow space. It was stacked floor to ceiling with bottles.

“What do you know about Ruth and Boaz?” I whispered to Emma. “You’re Buddhist!”

I scanned the shelves for something reasonably priced that I could buy for myself. They didn’t offer much in my preferred price range, and certainly nothing that came in a box.

“So?” she whispered back. “Aren’t you the one who said an educated person should know about the world’s different belief systems?”

“When did I say that?”

“At our last General Education Committee meeting.”

“Oh. Maybe you’re right. I guess it sounds like something I might say.”

“You did say it. In fact, Molly, what do you know about Buddhism?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re an educated person. Tell me something you know about Buddhism.”

“Buddhism? Uh, well, there’s Nirvana, and you have a…”

I knew there was some kind of wheel. Wheel of fortune? That couldn’t be right.

“Oh, this is childish, Emma. It’s not a competition. Come on, help me pick out the wine.”

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Whiskers in the Dark: A Mrs. Murphy #MidweekMystery by Rita Mae Brown. Yes, THE Rita Mae Brown.

“As feline collaborators go, you couldn’t ask for better than Sneaky Pie Brown.”—The New York Times Book Review

A massive nor’easter has hit northern Virginia, where Mary Minor “Harry” Harristeen joins groundskeeping efforts at the National Beagle Club at Aldie as the date for its springtime Hounds for Heroes veterans’ benefit approaches. Harry’s fellow volunteers, including her oldest friend, Susan Tucker, comprise a spirited group of hunting enthusiasts, some former service members themselves. But things take a sinister turn when, after a routine tree cleanup along the Club’s hunting trails, retired foreign services officer Jason Holzknect is found dead, throat slit from ear to ear. Soon enough, another murder in their midst jolts the preparations, convincing Harry that the killer is familiar with the Club—and must be close by, masked in plain sight.
The intrigue extends to the grounds of Harry’s beloved local church, where the identity of an eighteenth-century skeleton wearing precious pearls remains a mystery. The anonymous woman’s neck had been snapped, and marks on the grave where her body was secreted indicate that someone recently tried to remove it, leading Harry to question how well she really knows those around her.
As always, Harry’s crime-solving cats Mrs. Murphy and Pewter, and Tee Tucker the Corgi share her determination to sniff out the foes among friends, even those long buried. Harry will need her four-legged companions’ help more than ever: a ghostly beagle only they can see may hold the key to the culprit.

About The Author  

Rita Mae Brown is the bestselling author of the Sneaky Pie Brown mysteries; the Sister Jane series; the Runnymede novels, including Six of One and Cakewalk; A Nose for Justice and Murder Unleashed; Rubyfruit Jungle; and In Her Day; as well as many other books. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and a poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia, and is a Master of Foxhounds and the huntsman.

Sneaky Pie Brown, a tiger cat born somewhere in Albemarle County, Virginia, was discovered by Rita Mae Brown at her local SPCA. They have collaborated on numerous Mrs. Murphy mysteries—in addition to Sneaky Pie’s Cookbook for Mystery Lovers and Sneaky Pie for President.

Author Links 

Website – http://ritamaebrownbooks.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/RitaMaeBrown

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The Musubi Murder #SampleSunday

The Musubi Murder

When local big-shot Jimmy Tanaka, “The Most Hated Man in Hawaii,”  pledges a huge donation to the College of Commerce, Professor Molly thinks her employer’s troubles are over. But then Tanaka disappears, and Molly’s bottom-line-obsessed dean tasks her with locating the missing mogul. As Molly explores ancient grudges and uncovers old scandals, she starts to fall for Tanaka’s competitor, the too-good-to-be-true Donnie Gonsalves. Donnie seems to like her for all the wrong reasons–and has a few secrets of his own.

Excerpt

The Student Retention Office had  come in to refurbish the classroom, but they didn’t repaint it or replace the rotted ceiling tiles or fix the broken blinds. What they did was transform the classroom into a “learning center” by removing all of the desks and installing round tables in their place. The idea was that there should be no single focal point in the room from which a professor could lecture. We were no longer to play the role of “Sage on the Stage,” but instead we were to be “Guides on the Side,” moving around the room to facilitate student discussion.

A few weeks after the Student Retention Office remodel was finished, the Associate Vice Chancellor for Student Engagement attended an ed-tech conference. Upon his return, we were directed to record our class sessions and post them online, so that students could watch them at their leisure. The problem was that we were “guides on the side” now, and the Associate Vice Chancellor for Student Engagement didn’t want to post hour-long videos of students sitting in circles talking. So we all had to go back to being “sages on the stage,” lecturing to the video camera, but this time we were cautioned to act as “facilitators of experience” rather than “providers of knowledge.”

We’re still stuck with the immovable round tables.

 

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#MidweekMystery Seeing Red by Dana Dratch

Seeing Red

Her freelance career is catching fire. Her relationship with B&B owner Ian Sterling is flirty and fun. She’s even attending a glittering cocktail party at his sprawling Victorian inn.
But, to this ex-reporter, something seems “off.” And it’s not the canapés. When Ian’s father vanishes, the enigmatic innkeeper asks for her discretion. And her assistance.

Meanwhile, Alex is having the opposite problem at her tiny bungalow: People keep piling in uninvited. Including a mysterious intruder found sleeping in her kitchen. Her grandmother, Baba, who shows up “to help”—with Alex’s own mother hot on her heels.
When the intrepid redhead discovers a body in the B&B’s basement and a “reproduction” Renoir in the library, she begins to suspect that Ian is more than just a simple hotel owner.
With editor pal Trip, brother Nick, and rescue-pup Lucy riding shotgun, Alex scrambles to stay one step ahead of disaster—and some very nasty characters.
Can she find the missing man before it’s too late? Or will Alex be the next one to disappear?
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About the Author

Dana Dratch is a personal finance writer and the author of CONFESSIONS OF A RED HERRING and SEEING RED. She’s currently working on the third Alex Vlodnachek mystery adventure, RED HOT. Get updates at ConfessionsofaRedHerring.com.
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The Lost Weekend #SampleSunday

The Lost Weekend

Mary-Alice Arceneaux has started a new career at age 70 as the newest member of the Sinful Ladies’ Detective Agency. She is happily learning the principles of detection from Ida Belle, Gertie, and Fortune–and of course, picking up tips from her beloved mystery novels. But Mary-Alice finds herself on the wrong side of the interrogation table when her cousin Celia accuses her of a shocking crime.
Unfortunately, Celia’s story looks plausible–at least to a sheriff under intense pressure to make a quick arrest. Now Mary-Alice and the Sinful Ladies have to find out what Celia’s hiding, and find it fast…or Mary-Alice will pay with her freedom.

Excerpt

“Don’t you try to fool me, Celia Arceneaux,” Mary-Alice scolded. “I know what you’re up to.”
“I’m speaking the truth,” Celia whispered.
“It’ll only get worse, darlin’. This time you landed in the hospital, next time it might be the morgue. You don’t have to protect him, Celia.”
It was impossible to discern any expression in Celia’s swollen features.
Celia started to move her lips, and then gave up.
“Celia,” Mary-Alice persisted, “You can’t just go around inventing stories about how this one kidnapped you or that one beat you. The sheriffs don’t take kindly to folks telling them falsehoods. Why, Deputy Sheriff Carter LeBlanc just went over to Fortune’s house today and tried to search it.”
Celia’s eyes widened by a millimeter.
“He did?”
“Well of course he did, Celia. Now, that girl knows her rights and she told him he was going to need a warrant. But he will get one, Celia, and he’ll be back, and you and I both know he’s not going to find anything. Not only that…”
Mary-Alice never liked to tell a lie, especially when she was in the middle of reprimanding someone else for doing the same thing. But she reasoned that a little deceit in the service of the greater good was no crime.
“I don’t believe you’ve been inside that house since young Fortune moved in, Celia. She’s made all kinds of changes inside, moved things around and such. What do you suppose is going to happen when your description of Fortune’s house is different from what Deputy Sheriff LeBlanc finds?”
“Don’t call it her house,” Celia whispered. “That Yankee strumpet will never own a house in Sinful as long as I’m alive.”
“Call it Marge’s house then, if you like,” Mary-Alice replied. “My point is that if Carter catches you out in a lie, you’ll be in trouble. Do you know you can go to jail for making a false statement to a law enforcement officer? Well, you can. And then whoever did this to you will walk free.”
Celia was quiet for a long time. Finally she gathered the strength to speak.
“Perhaps I misremembered,” she murmured.
“Don’t be afraid to tell the truth,” Mary-Alice encouraged her. “Who did this to you, Celia?”
“It’s coming back to me now.”
“Good for you, darlin’. You tell me exactly what happened.”
“The place I was held captive…it was the Old Cooper Place.”
“The…now Celia, you’re getting it all mixed up. The old Cooper Place is where I live!”
“I’m not mixed up at all, Mary-Alice.” Celia’s distended face was expressionless, but her tone was ice-cold. “And as you were prideful enough to show the place off after you fixed it up. I believe I could describe the interior quite accurately. Do you remember demonstrating how you’d organized your bedroom closet?”
“Celia!” Mary-Alice exclaimed. “You wouldn’t!”

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This story is a licensed work in Jana DeLeon’s Miss Fortune world.

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The Pajama Murder #SampleSunday

The Pajama Murder

Local businessman Buford Fontleroy Deale III is found shot dead in front of Harriet’s Books in downtown Sinful. A blood-soaked pajama top is tied around his chest. And he’s wearing only one shoe.
The sheriff wants to talk to Harriet. Sinful’s beloved bookseller was one of the last people to see Deale alive. Fortune, Ida Belle, Gertie, and Mary-Alice need to get to Harriet before the sheriff does. They want to clear Harriet’s name, and stop whoever was behind the bizarre murder.
Except no one can find Harriet…

Excerpt

Mary-Alice loved Harriet’s Books, with its stale potpourri smell and its Local Author section featuring Gertie’s racy romances. Late in life Gertie had discovered writing as a creative outlet. She now published romances featuring mature protagonists, a genre she dubbed “seniorotica.”  Mary-Alice’s humorless cousin Celia Arceneaux had tried to get Gertie’s books banned from Sinful, which only got them flying off the shelves.
“Tea?” Harriet offered, but her smile faded as she read her friends’ faces. “What is it?”
“We’ve just gone to see Buford Fontleroy Deale, Miss Harriet.” Mary-Alice spoke, as it was she who knew Harriet best. “He claims you’re defrauding him and is planning to gather evidence to prove it.”
“That can’t be right,” Harriet exclaimed. “Defrauding? How can that be? I pay my rent early every month, and I take excellent care of the property. That’s crazy.”
“What’s going on?” Ida Belle demanded. “Why would your landlord want to do this to you?”
Harriet sighed, motioned them into her office, and invited them to sit around the cluttered round table where she reconciled her sales each evening.
“Mr. Deale was here yesterday afternoon,” Harriet said.
“After book club?” Mary-Alice asked. Harriet nodded.
“He made a rather ungentlemanly proposition. I believe he’d been drinking.”
“Well I expect you turned him down,” Mary-Alice exclaimed.
Harriet nodded, her eyes fixed on the stack of computer printouts in front of her.
“He didn’t take the rejection well.”

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This story is a licensed work in Jana DeLeon’s Miss Fortune world.