Friday, September 6, 2024

Verlore Gisters deur Lynelle Clark. Beskikbaar in Kindle en e-boek.


Genre: Misterieuse Spanningsverhaal

Uitgewer: Ns. Skrywershuis Publikasies teen R40 per eboek

ISBN: 978-1-7764392-8-7

Bladsye: 85

In ons daaglikse keuses berus die besluit tussen goed en kwaad by ons. Watter een sal seëvier. Kies ons verkeerd, wel, dan moet ons die prys betaal. Die vraag is wat sal jy doen om jou kind se nagedagtenis in ere te herstel?



Skakels:

Goodreads: Verlore Gisters, ’n Spannende misterie-novelle.

Smashwords / Amazon / NS Skrywershuis / Barnes & Noble / Apple  

 

Sinopsis

 

Die Kennis van Goed en Kwaad is die dryfveer van Verlore Gisters. In ons daaglikse keuses berus die besluit by ons watter een sal seëvier. Kies ons verkeerd, wel, dan moet ons die prys betaal. Die vraag is wat sal jy doen om jou kind se nagedagtenis in ere te herstel? 

Bertha Geldenhuis se lewe het ’n lelike draai gemaak die dag toe sy met Heino Beetge en sy vriende deurmekaar geraak het. Die prys van dié vriendskap het haar alles wat belangrik is gekos.  

Wanneer hoop net ’n vae begrip word en vriendskap yler as hoendertande, dan weet jy jou keuse was ʼn fout. Sou sy die een hand wat wel na haar uitgehou word vat, of sou sy aanhou om die verkeerde besluite te neem? Die besluit van kennis van goed ... of kwaad? 

Luitenant-Kolonel Hendrik Swanepoel is op die drumpel van aftrede. Sy lewe as oujongkêrel en toegewyde polisieman was vervullend. Maar die dag toe hy Bertha Geldenhuis ontmoet, was sy keuses afgebaken in hoopvolle meetsnoere.  

Met die ewige vraag: wat beteken die kennis van goed en kwaad nou eintlik, word hy aangespoor om die antwoord vir Bertha te soek. Wat hy vind is meer as net ’n antwoord. Dit is ’n openbaring wat hom op wye draaie sou vat.  

Hoop is soms al wat ons het om aan vas te hou ...  

’n Spannende misterie-novelle.  

Verlore Gisters deur Lynelle Clark

 


Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Book review: Serabelle: Where the Wealthy Come to Play by Tavi Taylor Black

 

Serabelle: Where the Wealthy Come to Play

by Tavi Taylor Black

Black Coffee Book Tours

July 23-26

An island sheltered from modern progress. Strict lines between servants and masters. Will crossing them leave her fatally exposed?

Bar Harbor, Maine. 1913. Mabel Rae is smart, reckless, and naïve. So when the ambitious seventeen-year-old joins the staff at a rocky cliffside cottage, she willingly lets the boisterous estate owner's improper advances sweep her off her feet. And the slender young woman dismisses the vulnerability of her position when she discovers she's pregnant with his unacknowledged child.

Brought harshly down to earth after she's caught up in the machinations of a family feud, Mabel decides it's time to take matters into her own hands. But with no money and few rights, she fears a forced marriage to the brutish gardener is her only socially acceptable option.

Is her future forever stunted, or can she become a beacon of change?

In a classic upstairs-downstairs tale, award-winning author Tavi Taylor Black spins an intricate web of idealism's battle against harsh reality. Set at a time when suffrage was at its height, temperance was gaining momentum, and war loomed in Europe, this spellbinding novel shines a light on inequities we still face today.

Serabelle is a darkly humorous work of historical fiction. If you like intricate relationships, lyrical prose, and stories that tackle serious issues, then you'll love Tavi Taylor Black's vivid portrait of the Gilded Age.

Buy Serabelle to test the limits of freedom today!

Universal link for the book on Amazon

About the Author

Tavi Taylor Black earned an MFA in creative writing from Lesley University in Cambridge. In the years following her graduation, Tavi created a collection of short stories, Crazy Happy. Several stories from the collection were shortlisted for prizes, including the Fish One Page Prize, Aesthetica Magazine’s Creative Works Competition and the Donald Barthelme Prize for Short Prose. Other stories have appeared in Alligator Juniper and Opium Magazine online.

Tavi’s debut novel Where Are We Tomorrow? was awarded the 2022 Nancy Pearl Book Award, was a finalist in the 2021 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, the 2021 National Indie Excellence Awards, and a finalist in the Nicholas Schaffner Award for Music in Literature. Tavi lives on Vashon Island where she is finishing up the second in a series of middle-grade fantasy novels. She is currently in graduate school at the University of Washington, studying Library Science.

Review. 1913 was a tumultuous time for America and the rest of the world. This period in history has much to offer, since it was the beginning of inventions we take for granted today. Change was coming and not everyone was ready for the shifts about to take place. Every area of life was touched, and an awakening became clear. In Serabelle, the author has captured these changes eloquently. Women were finding their voice. Cultural indifferences were highlighted, and love questioned. Yet, there were some who wanted to hold on to the old ways as others tried to keep their control. Serabelle encompasses all human failures and victories as you get to know the characters. Whether they are part of the rich or the humbled stable boy, each one’s thoughts were important. Their lives were beautifully captured.
Mabel liked reading, had enjoyed her studies when she was a girl. She made a better student, she knew, than she did a maid. Though her body was sturdy and taut, she was often distracted by an errant thought, one that would lead her down a winding path of ideas and images and take her mind off her work. She found herself staring into space, halting a mundane task. Mabel thought of those women in town at the suffrage meeting. Those women seemed worldly and smart. They wanted things for themselves. They read and thought and organized. Maybe, there was a way for Mabel to be like them.
The writing had an easy flow, clear and to the point. The plotline was easy to follow, and each chapter played an integral part of the story. Line upon line, you are drawn into the intricate web of lies, fraud, and deceit to find truth as they navigated life. A great story that I will recommend. Thank you for the opportunity to read this book.

Goodreads / LibraryThing / Reedsy

Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Book review: A Rougher Task by DJG Palmer is filled with adventure and in the very heart of South Africa.

A Rougher Task

by DJG Palmer

Black Coffee Book Tours

June 25-28

Cranthorpe Millner Publishers

It is 1878, and beneath the heat of the South African sun, a brutal war is brewing. Yet for the soldiers based at the dreary maritime barracks of Chatham, the prospect of journeying to this exotic land is an opportunity they cannot resist.

Albert Bond, a young lieutenant and academy graduate, is plagued by his family’s ruin as he desperately attempts to cling to the status of his wealthy upbringing. Yet he is soon forced to reassess his aspirations, his morals, and his feelings concerning class and rank as he realises his growing affection for his handsome batman Jack Coleman. Jack grew up as the lowest of the low, but his social disadvantages fail to supress his optimism and willingness to take risks, attributes that Bond cannot help but admire.

As the two men come to rely on one another for comfort and companionship amidst the animosity and indecision of war, their relationship begins to shift. But in a time of deep-rooted institutional and societal prejudice, will their intimacy blossom into something tangible?

Universal link for the book on Amazon

About the Author

The author says: “I was born in Kent to older parents and a pre-war father who, having had me late in life, thought that boys ought to explore ancient ruins and read books about knights and pirates, rather than play computer games or watch videos, so I grew up exploring castles and reading dog-eared Ladybird history books. At the age of eight I opened my grandfather’s chest in the attic to discover that he had been an army officer in the Second World War, and was excited to discover his
baton, pips, and medals, but also to understand the realities that lay behind the martial emblems.
It was during the early years of manhood that I embarked upon Babanango, resulting unbelievably in fellowships of the Anglo-Zulu War Historical and Royal Geographical Societies. I then set aside military fiction for a time, enjoyed a subsequent career in policing and found love with a wonderful man, the love and bedrock of my life. The subsequent death of a friend, father figure and former officer provided my motivation to dust off the manuscript and revisit its contents, message, and the untold story of the many men who must have lived, loved and died in secret, serving in the armed forces.
This story is for those men, whoever they were, and the friends and allies who had their backs. ”

Publisher's Social Media

Review 

When asked if I wanted to review this book, I was immediately interested. The South African history has always fascinated me and being a South African, it is always good to read how people perceive the country. South Africa is tamed since the Zulu wars, but the sentiments cemented during those wars are still very much alive. Gone are the days of non-existent roads, but the effects of these wars can still be felt within our borders. 

This book has been dedicated to the author’s grandfather, who has fought in the second World War. It is unclear from the author’s bio if his grandfather was stationed in South-Africa, nevertheless; I think his grandfather would be proud of the book from the author’s pen. How the author got to the name Babanango is unclear, but I must commend him for the research he has put into the book. It is the small things that are sometimes forgotten that make a plotline believable. 

KZN is an exquisite area in our country, steeped in history and breathtaking landscapes, and the rains are not unfamiliar to us. The lush greenery is a beautiful sight to behold, and the mountain ranges are spectacular. I felt sorry for the troops that had suffered through the rains in this unknown area as they embarked on their adventure. 

The book is a lengthy tale of Luietenant Bond who fell into hardships during this period. His only solace was to enter the war to save his life from total ruin. Meeting Jack Coleman, who became his batman, it was clear that the two would bond. The cultures could not be more diverse, yet the men’s relationship blossomed. Though very subtle, the nuances of a budding romance could be recognised. I enjoyed the many supporting characters that were introduced into the story, making this a very entertaining book. 

However, I found some of the descriptive writings a bit too much. A reader wants to get to the story as quickly as possible and the too many backstories stopped the flow considerably. Otherwise, a book I would recommend to every historical reader on the search for something different.

Friday, June 14, 2024

Book review: Sharkman by Tom Vater

 

Sharkman: A True Story

by Tom Vater

Black Coffee Book Tours

June 11-14

In 1992, mechanic Peter Hauser and two friends bought three old cars and set off from southern Germany to cross the Sahara and drive to Togo, where they planned to sell their vehicles.

They never reached their destination. The young, free-wheeling adventurers were ambushed by Tuareg bandits on the Algeria-Mali border, kidnapped and disappeared into the vast nothingness of the desert.

Thirty years later, Peter Hauser lives in a tent between jungle and ocean on a remote archipelago in Southern Thailand. Every day, Peter heads out into the deep blue to swim with tiger sharks, apex predators and masters over life and death, to find out what fear means to all of us.

Universal link for the book on Amazon

About the Author

Review 

This very brief account of three men’s adventure in Africa just shows again what human persistence can do when you stay positive. Trails can test our strength and send us into a tailspin, but these three men really stood together, showing determination and hope. 

Africa can be very harsh; its elements alone can be a very intimidating to foreigners. Add some human elements with guns into the equation can break your spirit. In Sharkman, we see how the three kept it together. 

I found the writing very simplistic and to the point, with no real emphasis on the emotional element of it all, and I struggled to really get involved in the characters’ lives. Nevertheless, an interesting story of adventure while getting to know the most beautiful destinations.

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Book review: Solar Warden book four - Skinwalker by Peter Fuller.

Synopsis:

From the start of this science fiction book, you are thrown into a fierce battle. Scarecrow, Sandy and their teams must make split-second decisions as the enemy tries to overtake them.

The enemy is sly and wicked with so many devices of illusions to its exposure that you struggle to keep up. Wondering if the humans would ever stand a chance against the diabolical plans manufactured against them.

When Michael, the archangel, and his host appeared, I was spellbound. Whether here on earth or the vastness of space, God is always watching over us. A reminder that the Heavenly Father is never out of reach. God restores.

This is a story of good versus evil summarized in a science fiction story with all the right elements to capture the reader’s attention.

With the main villain and his dedicated reptiles following him, they spear flawless assaults against the humans, but soon the human aspect gets the upper hand. The price is high, and the scores stacked against them, yet the human tenacity is the one attribute that keeps this heroic team standing. A victory for humankind.

The visuals of this book are lifelike and real. The descriptions of each character and situations, as well as the narrative, take you into the heart of the story as you fight alongside the humans to overpower the evil.

A must read to all science fiction readers. 

Buy links


Excerpt

She looked up at the firefight now underway in both corridors. Despite her Marine’s best efforts, the enemy was still advancing on their position. It was slow, but there was no way they could hold off the reptilian’s assault long enough to get the outpost personnel to safety, not to mention her own men. The first sergeant pulled back to join his honcho as she conversed with the corporal.

“The snakeheads are messing with our transporter,” she said to her first sergeant. “They’re using a dampening field generator. The corporal says it’ll take hours to evacuate the outpost.”

“We don’t have hours, Colonel.” the first sergeant replied in his deep baritone voice.

“I’d give us 40 minutes tops, before we’re overrun.”

“Then we have to find the snakehead generator and take it out.”

“Well, Colonel, good news is, the enemy transporters have all shut down.” He thrust his scanner into her face. “I count only 283 snakehead grunts, but in these cramped hallways, their lesser numbers won’t matter. We’re evenly matched, and they’re a harder target to eliminate. They’re going to wear us down, and we’ll have to fight a rearguard action until they back us right through the wardroom doors. We can’t hold ‘em, Ma’am. We need to get those civilians to safety in minutes, not hours.”

“I agree, First Sergeant. Sandy clicked the comm and continued, “Corporal, keep trying to move personnel through the transporter as quickly as you can. We’re going to try and locate the snakehead generator and destroy it. Richardson out.”

Sandy turned back to her first sergeant. “Let me see that scanner.” She took the device from her subordinate and scrutinized the display. “Let’s see where they have this generator located. We have a comprehensive schematic of this outpost. Maybe we can circumvent the snakeheads and flank them.” Sandy manipulated the controls on the scanner so it would search for the disruptive frequency of the enemy generator while several of her Marine’s lobbed pulse-grenades at the advancing reptilian force. They detonated with an ear-splitting report that would have deafened every defender in the confined space of the hallway had it not been for the TAPS (Tactical Audio Protection System) incorporated into their helmets.

“Where is it? Where is it?” Sandy scanned the display, looking for the alien tech.

“There.” The first sergeant pointed to the bottom corner of the ARI floating above the scanner where it indicated the position of the generator.

“Okay, where is that relative to us?” Sandy manipulated the scanner and found their location on the ARI schematic.

“Hmmm, it’s not that far, Colonel,” the first sergeant said. “We could drop down into the sublevel here, and sneak past beneath the snakeheads. We could use our own dampening field generators to mask our signal.”

“Did we bring any with us?” “Private Kelly has a couple. He’s back in the wardroom.” “Alright, go retrieve them. I’ll be right on your six.” The first sergeant turned and headed away from the fray as Sandy tapped her comm. “Scrivens, Richardson. Come in, over.”

“Scrivens. You’re lima-charlie, over.”

“Mark, I need to execute a search and destroy mission. Can you spare any of your Red Boots, over?”

“We’re havin’ fun givin’ the snakeheads a bloody nose over here, so yeah, I could let you have a fire team, Colonel. Would that be enough, or do you need a squad, over?”

“One fire team ought to do it. Have them meet me in the wardroom. Richardson out.”  

Sandy burst through the doors of the wardroom, and what she found there made her heart sink.

Only about ten of the outpost personnel had gotten through the transporter to safety, none of them female. There was no line with women in the front, and her Marines were struggling to hold back a seething, churning mass of humanity, all of whom were frantic to reach the transporter and escape. Everyone was shouting and screaming, their eyes wild with fear and desperation, clawing at the Marines, attempting to overpower them and reach the transporter.

Corporal Adams was at the transporter controls, fighting to activate it once more. He managed to succeed, and the panel lit up with its requisite rainbow of colored light. When the crowd saw it spring to life, the cacophony jumped to a new level, and everyone went mad with a frenzied panic to reach it and escape their nightmare situation.

 

 

Friday, April 5, 2024

Book Review: Jim’s Pterodactyl is an intriguing novel by Andrew R. Williams.

Amazon / Goodreads  / LibraryThing / Reedsy 

Book Blurb:

In this egg-straordinary tale, Jim Godwin has an unexpected delivery that takes a hilariously unexpected turn. 

Imagine a world where ancient creatures collide with everyday life, and you’ll find yourself in the midst of this dark comedy.

The story revolves around Jim Godwin, who finds himself with an unexpected and ancient guest—a pterodactyl!

As the plot unfolds, mishaps, humour, and perhaps a touch of cheese await readers. 

So let’s meet Ollie!  The cheese-eating Pterodactyl.

Caldwell Ellis commissions a 'find and retrieve' mission in Papua New Guinea to locate Ropen eggs and prove to the world that Pterodactyls still exist. (Ropen is the local name for Pterodactyls).

An egg is stolen from a Pterodactyl’s nest and sent back to the UK but is delivered to Jim Godwin by mistake.

Jim is advised to dump the egg in a waste bin, but he is too kind-hearted to do that to a living creature. 

Then the egg hatches and Jim and Moira call the new-born baby “Ollie”.

But Jim is filled with trepidation. 

Will Ollie grow into a monster with a 30-foot wingspan? 

Will Ollie become the second Tipham Vampire? 

Then there’s the food issue. Ollie develops a liking for cheese.

 Is she going to eat them out of house-and- home?

But most of their fears are groundless.

 It turns out that Ollie is a clever soul, who bonds with Jim and Moira and communicates telepathically and verbally.

However, Ollie’s existence creates all kinds of trouble and adventures for the Tipham crew! 


Review

Secrets, greed, and old pals are all back in this tongue in the cheek fantasy story from the author Andrew Williams.

Jim and Moira’s story really captures the imagination of any reader. I have learned about them in Jim’s Revenge, a heartfelt and interesting plot with lots of mayhem and unsavoury characters. In Jim’s Revenge, Moira was the victim of a conniving blackmailer, and Jim helped her in a very nifty way. Teaching us that there is still room for old school heroism.

In Jim’s Pterodactyl, the two are at it again. Some of the old characters are back and new ones are introduced with the author’s typical English humour style and good plotline.

This time we are taken to a cottage in the countryside where all kinds of interesting and crazy things happen when Moira inherits this place. Upon investigation of the cottage, Jim realizes early on that something is up to this place. Especially when they receive a package from Papua New Genia with a very sinister message attached to it. A package that will keep them on their toes and defy all scientific logic.

The Tipham vampire and the ghost of Cunningham added to the adventurous plotline as the pair delves into the many clues, and secrets left by Caldwell Ellis.

Ollie’s antics and understanding of human behaviour added another layer of intrigue and adventure as you get to know the people and their motives.

A fun read that every reader will enjoy.


 

Excerpt:

“Snakes!” Sam said.

“What type of snakes?”

Jim smiled at his youngest grandson and shrugged, “I don’t know. A man is coming to take them away shortly.”

“Will they bite him,” Sam said.

Jim’s smile increased, “I hope not. Besides, he’s used to handling snakes.”

Ian cut in, “Can we see the snakes before they go, Grandpa Godwin?”

Tommy Godwin, the boy’s father, stuck his oar in, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Snakes can be dangerous.”

“They’re in tanks with lids on top,” Jim replied. “The snakes can’t get out and harm anyone.”

Tommy deliberately changed the subject, “So, is Moira moving out then?”

The question annoyed Jim. Ever since Moira had come to stay with him, Tommy had been sniping and making unsubtle suggestions that she was a gold digger, only interested in his money. Worse, Tommy’s comments lacked subtlety, leaving Moira with little doubt that he wanted her to leave Jim’s apartment. Not wishing to start another argument, Jim didn’t lock horns with his son. Instead, he pointed out the obvious, “We’ve got to clear Cunningham Cottage out first, and that could take some time. That’s why Moira’s gone there today to start sorting things out.”

“So she’s down there now, eh!” Tommy said.

“Yes,” Jim replied, avoiding the real truth. Although the cottage needed sorting out, Moira had decided to go shopping when she knew Tommy was calling. She’d high-tailed it to avoid another confrontation.

Sam repeated his request, “Can we see the snakes before the man takes them away, Grandpa?”

Jim said, “If your Dad says it’s okay. Then, yes.” When Tommy finally gave in, Jim glanced at Ian and said, “Would you and your mates like to earn a bit of money?”

 Ian was suspicious, “Doing what?”

“Helping us get stuff out of the loft at the cottage,” Jim said, “Moira doesn’t want me to go up there. She thinks I’m too old. She thinks I’ll fall out of the loft hatch. It won’t take long, and I will pay for your time.”

When Tommy opened his mouth, wanting to throw in his six pennies worth, Jim quickly added, “It’s only moving boxes of books and things like that. Nothing heavy.”

Ian asked, “Can Gerry Fulstrum and Mick Ormrod help, too, if they want to?”

“That’s why I said you and your mates,” Jim replied and began negotiating pay rates. Once Ian had telephoned his friends and the helper’s rates were agreed upon, Ian said, “When we come around to help, can we look at the snakes?”

“As long as they haven’t gone before you get there,” Jim replied. Sensing he might miss out, Ian said, “Can we come down on Saturday?”

Jim smiled, “I’m sure that would be fine.”

***

Cunningham Cottage Tipham Tommy Steals a Key

When they arrived at Cunningham Cottage on Saturday, Moira ignored the drive and pulled up at the kerb because she wanted to be away before Tommy, Jim’s son, turned up.

Jim matched her thoughts by glancing at his watch and saying, “Tommy said he would drop the boys off at eleven o’clock. Are you going to go shopping as I suggested?”

At the mention of Tommy’s name, Moira reacted like a gazelle picking up the scent of a lion on the wind. She said, “That’s what we agreed.”

Jim’s mind flashed back to the last confrontation between Moira and Tommy. It had been most unpleasant in the extreme. It had been so bad that Jim thought Moira might move out to avoid the constant sniping. But amazingly, she hadn’t.

She added, “Just one thing. While I’m away, don’t let the boys run wild.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let the boys interfere with anything,” Jim promised. “I’ll set the tables up in the garage and label them as agreed. Then we will just bring everything downstairs and put them in the garage for sorting, as discussed.”

Satisfied that Jim would follow her instructions, Moira waited for Jim to unload the portable tables they’d borrowed from work. Once the car was unloaded, Jim glanced at his watch again, “It’s nearly half ten. Knowing Tommy, he’ll probably turn up early. I bet he’ll be wanting to look around.”

“Okay,” Moira said, “I’ll go, but if anything is damaged, I’ll hold you responsible. And make sure that no one falls through the ceiling. Some of the floorboards in the loft are very flimsy.”

Jim walked towards the cottage, key in hand and shouted back, “Stop fussing, woman; we’ll be fine, and I’ll call you when Tommy leaves, and you can come back.”

Once Moira had driven off, Jim let himself in and noted a letter on the hall floor. The name on the envelope was Ellis Parkinson, and it had been sent from Papua New Guinea. After wondering if he should open it, Jim changed his mind. As the letter looked as if it had been wrongly delivered, he tossed it on top of the meter cupboard.

He carried the tables into the garage and labelled them. He then went to the kitchen. Feeling a draught, Jim let his senses guide him. Finding the brick with the message attached, Jim knew who was behind the attack. Although the note on the brick didn’t provide a full name, only someone like Paul Tupal would continue a vendetta even though he was banged up in the clink. He considered what he should say to Moira if she asked questions. As Paul Tupal had made Moira’s life hell when they’d worked in the same office and had tried to rape her, Jim decided the least said the better. Wanting to remove the evidence, he took the brick outside and dropped it into the dustbin, cleared the broken glass and blocked the window internally with a sheet of stout cardboard; he then called Jamie Berry, an odd job man he knew and arranged to replace the glass.

***

Jim shook his head, “Edmundo J. Cunningham was a wealthy man; he built Cunningham Hall. Why would his ghost be here?” Moira pointed to another formal picture showing Cunningham with two children and a younger woman dressed in old-fashioned clothes.

She said, “I’m guessing, but I think Cunningham had a mistress who lived here.”

“In those days,” Jim said, “Living over the brush was frowned upon.”

“This cottage is in the middle of nowhere,” Moira replied icily. “In those days, the road probably wouldn’t have even been macadamized. It would just have been a farm track. Besides, people like Edmundo J. Cunningham wrote their own rules.”

“It still doesn’t answer why Cunningham’s ghost may be haunting this place,” Jim replied.

Moira tugged his arm again and pointed, “Look at this.” Jim glanced at the next frame. Inside, there was the reproduction of an old newspaper cutting.

The headline said, “The Tipham Vampire Strikes Again!” Underneath was an artist’s sketch and a lurid tale of a large, winged creature chasing a man through the woods. According to the report, the beast eventually caught his victim and attacked him.

The article concluded with the note that the victim might have been killed if a local farmer armed with a shotgun hadn’t scared the winged attacker away.

While they were still staring at the sketch, Ian walked into the room with an old laptop computer in one hand and said, “We found this in the loft.”

Jim took it off him and said, “I wonder if it works?”

“You’ll have to charge it up and see.” 


Monday, January 29, 2024

Book Review: Juror Number Ten by Caroline Taylor


Genre: Thriller/romantic suspense

Bio: 

Caroline Taylor is a novelist and short-story writer who grew up in the mountain west and traveled widely, including a brief stint in the Foreign Service. A former editor of Humanities magazine, she is the author of several mysteries, one short-story collection, and a nonfiction book. Two of her novels won the Firebird Book award, and a third was a finalist for the Freddie Award. A member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime, she lives in North Carolina.

 

Blurb: 

Forgive their trespasses? One has committed murder. Two have committed adultery, and the third has stooped to petty spying. When Sophie Dickson becomes the reluctant tenth juror in a DC murder trial, she encounters the man whose marriage she destroyed through a drunken act of adultery. The prosecutor knows he will lose the case, which is what his boss wants. The plaintiff, Nona Pierce, refuses to plead guilty, even while owning up to the murder. She just wants her day in court. Instead, she’s kidnapped, the prosecutor is fired, and Juror Number Ten finds herself in the middle of a situation far less appealing than jury duty—and much more dangerous. How could a murder prompted by a lawsuit over real estate grow into a war between an alleged crime boss and a gang of scary Russians willing to murder to get what they want?

 

Website  / AmazonBarnes & Noble / Kobo


Excerpt

Cody made his report as brief as he could. When he finished, Gordon said, “I’m not hopeful they’ll find her. There must be three hundred black SUVs in the DC area—and that’s if the kidnappers aren’t halfway to Baltimore by now. I suppose the police have put out a BOLO to the airports and train stations.”

“Bolo?” Sophie had been quietly sitting there, legs crossed, one nicely shaped foot bouncing nervously back and forth. Clearly she didn’t understand the term. Gordon smiled at her.

“It’s shorthand for ‘be on the lookout.’ Of course, the FBI will get involved since it’s a kidnapping. Which will help.” The look he bestowed on Sophie reminded Cody of the way Professor Abercrombie dealt with his students at Georgetown.

“Would you care to add to Cody’s account, Ms. Dickson?” “I’m afraid not. If you don’t mind, sir, I’ll be on my way.”

“Yes, of course. But first, I want to show you some photos.”

“I never saw his face.”

“Bear with me. Are you hungry? I could have sandwiches brought in.” He stood and went to a filing cabinet where he started rummaging through one of the drawers. This was a rarity for a man who hated to be caught standing anywhere near anybody as tall as Cody happened to be.

Cody plopped down on the sofa beside her. “I’m partial to the tuna melt, but they also have burgers.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Or salads,” said Gordon, “or ice cream.” He held a thick manila folder.

Sophie sighed. “Oh, all right. I suppose I should eat.”

“Atta girl.” Gordon patted her shoulder. Cody got to his feet. “I’ll order lunch. You want the usual, Gordon?”

“Sure, and you, Ms. Dickson?” “I guess the tuna melt.” Gordon’s assistant Martha would get the food, but Cody figured it would be best to leave the two of them to deal with the photos. After he’d talked to Martha, he checked for any messages on his phone. A request to reschedule tomorrow’s meeting with Terence O’Brien, the real estate agent whose carelessness or ignorance with respect to DC real estate law had royally screwed Nona Pierce out of her money. Fine. Let him stew. Nona hadn’t known Cody had been pursuing the now-moot civil case at Gordon’s behest. If there was an acquittal in the murder trial, Gordon had planned to sue the realtor for negligence. Apparently, the boss had a huge soft spot in his heart for his missing client.

The only other message was a text from Max Crowell wanting to know when they could hit the courts at Hains Point. So did Cody. He’d done so much walking and stair climbing and getting in and out of cars today that he wondered if he’d ever be able to move without pain again. His ankle was aching like a jilted woman’s heart. “Don’t know,” he texted back.

When he got back to Gordon’s office, Sophie was laughing. “That’s so not PC. But it really is funny.” Gordon was laughing too.

“Yeah. I have a lot of jokes in my repertoire, but I only tell them to my friends.” Jesus. Why not spread it on real thick?

“Any luck?”

“Yep,” said Gordon.

“Ms. Dickson—” “Sophie. Please.”

“Sophie here thinks the snatcher had a physique similar to this guy.”

He handed a photo to Cody, pointing to the man at the left. It was one of the photos Cody had taken at the church social where the late (courtesy of Nona Pierce) Tatiana Orlovsky and her son Grigor joined others every Sunday evening for a potluck supper of Russian comfort food, lubricated liberally with vodka. The three men appeared to be singing, their arms draped across one another’s shoulders. The bearded guy in the middle was tall and thin, a Russian Ichabod Crane. The short guy on the right had close-set eyes and a jowly face hinting of indulgence in a few too many blinis over the years. The guy on the left was huge with a weight lifter’s enormous arms and no neck. Still, it was a stretch.

“Why would guys from Orlovsky’s church go after Pierce?”

“Jesus, Cody. Think about it. We always thought Ms. Orlovsky had to be one of those embedded spies we keep hearing about, especially because of her line of business. Well, all these people are Russian émigrés, a.k.a. spies. One of their own was murdered. They want an eye for an eye.” “After three whole years?”

“It could have taken a while for them to gin up the courage—or to collect their orders from Moscow.”

“Oh, come on,” said Sophie.

“You’re talking as though this is still the Cold War.” Gordon gave her the fish eye.

“Meet the new war; same as the old war.”

 


Review

This is the second book I have read of the author Caroline Taylor.

Nona and Sophie stood on the opposite sides of the law. The one was a jury member, the other the accused.

But when Nona got kidnapped, the entire game changed. Instead of being in court, we tag along as people scramble to find Nona and keep her safe. I really liked this elderly woman and can relate to her story as she try to stay alive and get some money to live from. Being close to 60 myself, I understand the turmoil of looking for ways to increase your income. It is simply a never-ending story with its own predicaments which can lead you to trouble, quickly.

The characters that the author added, really set the tone of the rest of the story and soon I was lost in the trappings and nuances of the plot.

The characters are well developed and relatable. The flow is easy to follow, and the momentum is to the point. Pointing out the different races, became a bity weary but otherwise a great story right to the end.

 

Verlore Gisters deur Lynelle Clark. Beskikbaar in Kindle en e-boek.

Genre: Misterieuse Spanningsverhaal Uitgewer: Ns. Skrywershuis Publikasies teen R40 per eboek ISBN: 978-1-7764392-8-7 Bladsye: 85 In...