Today, I’m thrilled to be releasing a new stand-alone Domestic Thriller on Amazon. For today only the ebook will go for 99cents, so feel free to get it while it’s hot. The print version of the book will be available in the next couple of weeks.
Fans of the Scotti Fitzgerald Mysteries may be interested to know that this story is where Daniels and Davis were ‘born.’ Below is the blurb and the links.
The Line Between Love and Hate, is Murder
Christine Logan has learned to tread lightly around her domineering husband, Phillip. A man who uses his fists as much as words to express his anger. What little joy she has in her life comes from her volunteer job as a painting instructor at the Community Center and her visits with the artist aunt who raised her.
In the arms of her lover, Michael Shaw, Christine finds comfort and escape; for a few stolen moments at a time. Though, as much as she loves Michael, she knows she’ll never be free of Phillip and the hold he has over her.
Until she becomes pregnant.
When Phillip discovers her infidelity, he orders her to get rid of the child— underscoring his displeasure with fists and threats.
But rebellion awakens inside her. She wants this baby more than anything. How can she destroy the precious life growing within her?
Can she break free of Phillip’s iron fist of control? How far is she willing to go to gain her freedom? When love becomes hate, is murder necessary?
Fans of Body Heat and Sleeping with the Enemy, will love this fast-paced thriller of love, hate, betrayal, and murder.
PS: Up next will be another stand-lone novel domestic thriller, then another Lottie Stark book and another Scotti Fitzgerald book. Yup, I’m writing up a storm.
PSS: Also, I’m going to be getting back to blogging – I’ve been away too long and have missed it, so do stay tuned for at least a few laughs and the world according to Annie, as well as some guest posts and author spotlights, book and movie reviews.
In the Wrong Mind – Psychological Horror Short Story
Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean you’re wrong…
Kathy is jumping at shadows and scaring old ladies walking their dogs. She hasn’t slept for weeks and her nerves are raw. How had things gotten so out of control? Of all the people in the world, why her? All she wants is to go back to her ordinary life where she isn’t afraid to answer her door or pick up her phone. Where she isn’t someone’s prey.
Will she stand up to the woman who torments her? Can she muster the nerve to fight back and regain her life? And how far will she go to finally find peace again?
In the Wrong Mind is psychological horror story written in the tradition of the Twilight Zone. If you like stories with unexpected twists and a subtle creep factor, then this short story is for you.
This is my second book from Diane Dixon and I have to say I’m becoming a fan. It’s so nice to find a new writer whose style and work you really like.
This is a story of two very broken people who somehow find solace in one another. In a very odd yet poetic way they save each other. It’s hard to say much about the story without giving spoilers so I’ll say I read it in under two evenings. A real page turner. And the writing itself is such a joy to read that it makes you want to keep going.
My only problem with the book was it got a little head hoppy starting at about the halfway mark. Which caused some confusion for me – also there were a few places when it seems like there should’ve been a scene break and there wasn’t.
Although of the two books I’ve read from this author, I would recommend her to anyone.
Today’s indie author is MJ Belko. In her article she discusses the irony of not being a mystery reader and yet having written a mystery picture book for kids. Take it away, MJ.
I Don’t Read Mysteries
I don’t read mysteries. I know, a pox upon me. I don’t mind watching them, but I never felt compelled to read one. I’m more of a nonfiction reader. As a writer, picture books are my wheelhouse. So, how did I end up writing Winthrop Risk, Detective—The Mystery of the Missing Hamster, an early reader with a nine-year-old detective who sounds like he just stepped out of a Raymond Chandler novel?
I certainly don’t have any disdain for the mystery genre. I’m a rabid fan of Benedict Cumberbatch as a modern version of Sherlock Holmes. I loved Derek Jacobi as Cadfael on PBS. But write one? Not on your life. Plot twists and red herrings just aren’t my thing.
Picture books have always been my first love and I’ve written several, though I haven’t found a publisher for them. I can only say that I stumbled upon my little detective. He emerged out of an unfocused daydream, his character fully formed in my mind.
Winthrop Risk is a boy of about nine. He’s smaller than his classmates and is considered by them to be something of a dork and an oddity. Winthrop, however, has no doubts as to his skills. He’s a first-rate gumshoe, and he knows it. The school bully has it in for him and could easily beat the snot out of him, but Winthrop never runs from him. He stands his ground. Without fuss. Without yelling. Without threatening to tell the teacher. Winthrop isn’t a boy on a journey of self-discovery (*gag*)—he knows damn well who he is. I like that about him.
My inspiration came from a Steve Martin movie from years ago, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid. If you haven’t seen it, it’s brilliant. Steve Martin plays a hard-boiled detective in the Philip Marlowe mold. The movie was filmed in black and white, with scenes from old detective films spliced in to create a story. It’s all there—the wisecracking detective, the beautiful dame, and the usual suspects; but I still didn’t have the framework for writing a mystery.
I began to watch more mysteries on TV. I gorged on episodes of Murder, She Wrote and some of the more current “cozy” mysteries. There’s a definite pattern to these stories. An ordinary citizen, usually female, has a fascination with mysteries and routinely finds herself knee deep in corpses. Because Winthrop was to be the hard-boiled detective type, I picked up a couple of Raymond Chandler novels and dove in. Chandler had a fascinating way with the English language. Before I had the plot fully worked out, I had a great deal of Winthrop’s witty repertoire written. I formed the story around that. The thing I found to be most interesting about the TV mystery shows and books is that the mystery itself is never really that baffling. In fact, I’ve played games of Clue that were tougher to solve. So what’s the selling point? It’s the main character and the backdrop of the story. The sleuth in these stories is always a keen observer, usually with no police training or experience. In fact, of the mystery shows I’ve watched, the main characters include a Crusader-era friar, a baker, a librarian, a writer, a general contractor, a bookstore owner, and an antiques dealer. Somehow, they end up stumbling over dead bodies at every turn. The backdrop is usually some cozy little town straight off a postcard.
Naturally, I had to tone down the plot for my young audience, so there will be no dead bodies in the Winthrop Risk series. Winthrop’s first adventure has him trying to find out what happened to the class pet, a hamster. He’s hired by a classmate out of sheer desperation. Over the four chapters of the book, Winthrop proves himself to be more than capable of solving the mystery, earning the grudging respect of his peers. He’s funny, smart, confident, and has a definite way with words. I think Philip Marlowe would like him.
With a bit of research and observation, I think I accomplished what I set out to do. I have an interesting and relatable main character with witty dialogue, a missing pet, a class bully, and a “like” interest (that’s as heated as it gets for a nine-year-old). The trick with the sequel is to let the characters grow just a little bit, without outgrowing the elementary school backdrop. The sequel will involve slightly more risky circumstances—a gang of thieves stealing from Winthrop’s school. We’ll learn more about Winthrop’s home life and why he never talks about his dad. We’ll learn about the school ghost and what’s really going on at the local railroad yard.
Writing Winthrop Risk was a huge step outside of my comfort zone, but I love how it turned out. Don’t be afraid to take some risks of your own with your writing. That path you’ve wandered down a few times could lead to something terrific.
Write on.
MJ Belko (O’Leary) was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1963 to an Irish family of cops, firemen, and the occasional priest. She is a US Army veteran of the Cold War era and spent about seven years as a lieutenant on her city’s Community Emergency Response Team. After working for an arson investigator, a private investigator, homeschooling two sons, and spending years as a medical transcriptionist editing medical reports, she finally decided to pursue her dream of being a writer. She released her first children’s book, “Winthrop Risk, Detective”, on Amazon in 2016. MJ currently resides in Michigan with her husband of more than 30 years.
Well it appears that my question from my previous post, was answered.
Indeed, Lizzie Keen is alive. Her death was faked with the help of Mr. Kaplan and once again with reiteration of the theme of this show of ‘keeping Lizzie safe.’ I have to say I feel vindicated, at least a little. I just knew Liz wasn’t gone for good. Although, like many of you, I expected her to show up in the Fall season opener, rather than in the finale of this season.
A question of paternity
And naturally, as soon as they answered the ‘Is she really dead?’ question they laid another on us – ‘Is Alexander Kirk really Liz’s father? I, like many Blacklist fans, harbor the belief that Red is Lizzie’s real dad and will probably cling to that belief until the show’s writers prove otherwise. I don’t believe that Kirk is anything other than a red herring brought in to confuse us and Liz. What do you think?
Other cliffhanging questions
Also the show left us hanging as to the fate of Tom Keen and Mr. Kaplan, who was last scene with her face in a not too happy Red’s hands. Would he really dispose of his loyal and reliable cleaner? And what of Tom? Has he finally used up his last of nine lives? I think we’ll be seeing him again. Perhaps Mr. Kaplan will have to fake his death too.
In the meantime, I’ll have to comfort myself with reruns from this season, hunting for hidden clues that eluded me in the first viewing.
What about you? Do you think Mr. Kaplan is toast? What about Tom? Did they kill him or is he just stashed in a Russian prison, catching mice and cockroaches for dinner? Is Alexander Kirk Liz’s father, or is this another head fake from the writers? And will the rescue for Liz occur in the new season opener or are they going to make us work for it? Feel free to share your opinions and theories in the comments.
I don’t know about you, but I am addicted (there I said it!) to the NBC show, The Blacklist. For four seasons I have watched while the ever story telling Red Reddington has dazzled and dazed me, causing me to ask countless questions, like:
Are you Lizzie’s father?
Who is Lizzie’s mother and was she really a Russian spy?
Can you answer a question without telling a story to illustrate your point?
Why do so many women find you irresistible?
Is this another fake out?
Over the four seasons of the show we have been faked out. We originally thought that Tom, Lizzie’s husband was just a cute, somewhat nerdy elementary school teacher. Only to discover he was a Russian spy or is that agent, then to find out that Red hired him, to now discovering he is Liz’s true soulmate. A once heartless killing machine who has found his soul thanks to true love. And then sadly to lose the love of his life and the reason for his salvation on the day their daughter is born.
But has he? Is Lizzie Keen really dead? I have my doubts. Just like I did when she was a blonde for a whole season. Or when all clues pointed to her becoming a sort of surrogate daughter in crime with Red.
Her funeral is in the next episode, how might they bring her back after that?
The next episode is to center around Liz’s funeral and then the requisite pursuit of her killer. Which personally I found a little confusing because I thought she died because of complications from the car accident and delivery. But you know, it’s episodic television, so okay.
Anyway, here is my theory:
Liz isn’t really dead but in order to protect her from the shadow agents/group pursuing her presumably because of her Russian spy mother’s sins, the whole world must believe she is dead for the time being.
Once Red and the whole special FBI task force has located the real threat to her, it will be revealed that she has been living in a FBI safe house in Oklahoma, donning a red wig and Birkenstoks.
She only seemed dead and looked dead because the doctor, who we already know was friends with Liz injected some super magical drug that made her look that way. The body used in the funeral will turn out to be a double or even made of wax. I mean who’s going to check to be sure?
Naturally, Tom will feel a bit miffed for having had to raise Agnes on his own for a year or so, but he’ll be so happy that he doesn’t have to be a single dad, that he’ll soon forgive her.
Though of course they won’t be able to jump into Tom’s boat and set sail for the happily ever after. Somehow Agnes will become the center of some plan or Tom will be tempted to return to his own life. Or Liz will mount her own investigation into who her mother and father really is. Heck, maybe that’s what she’s doing now, while everybody, including Red thinks she’s dead.
What are your theories?
So there you have it, my theory. Do you have one? Do you like me, think that Lizzie is still alive only to reappear at some later date, or is the Blacklist just becoming its own spinoff and morphing into a whole new show? Feel free to float any theories you like in the comments.
Ah, the first flash fiction challenge for the new year from Chuck. Our assignment: to pick a random pic from Flicker and use it as inspiration for a short story of 1,000 words. I have to admit I went slightly over the 1,000 but just a smidge:
She looked almost alive, swathed in veils and satin in her simple coffin. Like a princess. Ironic, since her killer left her on the side of the road, naked, bruised and obscenely posed for all to see. With a note clutched in her hand that read; “I do it because I can.”
Her grandmother told me in broken English that it was a custom from her home country – to send the loved one dressed in their best, to Heaven. After what had happened, I wondered how the woman still believed in Heaven. Eyes closed, prayer beads rattling between nervous fingers, her lips moved in silent prayer. Her silver hair glistened in the flickering candlight making her as much of a spectre as her dead granddaughter.
I sat in the back row and watched as mourners came and went. Some cried at the coffin, others crossed themselves defensively, lest the same thing happen to their child. Still others sat in the chairs and stared straight ahead. I waited for the killer to arrive. I knew that he would. That he would want to see his handiwork and the devastating effect it had on the world.
My partner sat in our unmarked, just outside the church – smoking and watching. We exchanged texts throughout the afternoon. Mostly to amuse ourselves and in the end for nothing at all because the killer never came to pay his respects.
As the last vestige of sunlight refracted through the stain glassed windows I rose. Tomorrow was another day for catching killers. Awkwardly, I knelt in the aisle, crossed myself and went outside.
After pushing through the ancient door of the church, I stood on the stoop and looked around, trying to adjust to the gray light that shrouded my world. The engine on the unmarked turned over and I squinted at my partner, who cranked a hand to get me moving.
I plunked into the passenger seat and closed the door against the cold. “So?”
My partner, Joan waved a gloved hand. “So nothing.”
I sighed at the tired little church as we pulled away from the curb. Joan smacked my arm with the back of her hand. “Cheer up, it’s beer o’clock.”
I nodded and stared straight ahead, wondering what made the human race so cold and uncaring. But soon, I was perched comfortably on a bar stool and doing shots and beers with Joan and the hard edges of life were softened.
Joan nibbled on a pretzel thoughtfully. “He’ll probably show at the funeral.” She turned bright green eyes on me. “Where he can watch from a distance.”
I nodded, then drained the rest of my beer. “Probably.” I tossed a few bills on the bar and stood. “Let’s go.”
She dropped me at my house, where lights in the window told me Cassie was home. “You want me to come in?”
I frowned at her. “For what?”
“I could make dinner. You two could stand to eat something besides pizza.”
I smiled at her. She was a good woman, a good person. She cared. We both cared. But I had to pretend I didn’t see that extra caring in her eyes – since my wife left last year that look in Joan’s eyes was too much of an invitation. I couldn’t take advantage and I didn’t want to.
“Maybe another time.”
I stood on the sidewalk and watched as her brake lights disappeared into the fog, then turned slowly toward the house. It was probably the fog or the street light reflected in the wet pavement but I saw a flash. When I turned toward it, it disappeared. Could’ve been the beer and whiskey too.
Cassie opened the door and frowned at me – her golden curls backlit and crowned her head like a halo. I smiled – she was my angel. “You gonna stand in the rain all night?”
I hurried up the walk then gave her shoulders a squeeze before going inside. “Daddy’s home.”
The house smelled like coffee and spaghetti. And the table was set and waiting for me. Cassie pulled off my coat and nudged me into a chair. I sipped my coffee and the warmth spread through my body, taking the chill out of my tired bones. “Looks good.”
Cassie smiled proudly. “Made it myself.”
I stared at the plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “Oh-oh.”
She smacked me with a napkin and said, “Eat, you old bear.”
Afterwards, I helped her with the clean up and dishes. “How was your day?”
She told me about school and a boy she liked and wondered out loud if I’d pop for a pretty dress she wanted for an upcoming dance at school. “You think it’ll make him love you?”
She blushed. “Oh Dad, you’re such doof.” She frowned. “How was your day?”
I told her about my unsuccessful stake out and she nodded in sympathy. My daughter was an old soul who understood my need to seek justice in the world and sympathized. She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to me. “This came for you.”
I frowned at the unaddressed envelope then tore it open. Inside was a note: “I do it because I can.”
My heart dropped to my toes. “How did you get this?”
Cassie recoiled at my reaction. “It was taped to the door when I came home.”
I went to the window and looked out, then I went to the front door and threw it open. And I felt him out there in the fog, watching and waiting. I withdrew my gun, then said to her, “Lock the door behind me and call Joan. Tell her to get over her now!”
Then, I stepped into the fog, gun raised, flashlight poised. I stepped off the porch, scanning the yard, the bushes, then went around back. The gate was open and my breath caught in my throat.
I burst into the yard but it was empty. Hands trembling, I ran the flashlight beam across the yard and along the house. Then I saw them – footprints in the sodden grass, leading to the back of the house. Panting, I followed them to my patio door which was locked. I pounded on the door. “Cassie! Cassie!”
For those three or four readers who’ve been anxiously awaiting my mystery series, I’m happy to tell you the books are officially published and up on Amazon. (click on pictures to view Amazon page.) I hope some of you will give them a try and that they provide a happy reading experience for you. If you have a Kindle Unlimited subscription, you can read the book for free. If you’re curious but not sure, you can download a free excerpt (the first 7 chapters) to you Kindle device or Kindle app.
Next up
I’m revising and editing my first novel, False Witness and will be publishing it under my own moniker. I believe it will be a much better read and I’ve got a better cover too.
After that, I’m digging into a new series – which I hope to have ready for release within the next year.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting on this blog. It means the world to me that people want to read the words I write.
Well the producers of the highly popular and highly addictive Pretty Little Liars promised a big reveal and I’d say they succeeded.
Of course they still left a lot of questions:
What is up with Andrew? Is he A’s henchman? Is it just a rule that any character whose name starts with A has to be used at a red herring at some point in the plot line?
If A is Charles why identify as A? Does it stand for Anonymous because of all the years he had to hide from sight so people wouldn’t know Jessica Di Laurentis gave birth to twins?
Was he forced to pretend to be a girl?
Was he Bethany?
Where has he been all this time? Radley?
Is that why Toby’s mother had to die because she knew about the two boys?
Why were the girls in a different location from the ‘control’ room?
Charles definitely seems to be everywhere?
Will Tanner stop being such a dick and get with the program?
And that scene with Spencer and “Charles” – why did he hesitate? Is it because Spencer is his half-sister? (Maybe Ali isn’t his favorite)
And why God why didn’t they rip his mask off before they did the whole blowing out the generator trick?
Oh well, guess we have to wait for the summer season to find out the answers and of course have more questions to replace these.
And yay, I was right Mona is not dead. And kind of right that A is Jason, because you twins…close, right?
Based on the commercials and trailers I was really looking forward to seeing this new ABC murder mystery series.
Premise
Ben Crawford (Ryan Philipe) a family man in a small town goes for an early morning run and discovers his neighbor’s son in the woods, dead. He runs home in a panic and calls the police. But rather than being lauded as a hero and a good Samaritan, the lead detective Andrea Cornell (Juliette Lewis) sees him as the prime suspect in the murder of the young boy.
Good, solid premise – an unassuming family man is yanked from his ordinary world into a nightmare scenario that would horrify any normal human being.
Back story
Ben is married to Christie and they married young. He is a house painter and his wife is a real estate agent who makes most of the money. They have two daughters – Natalie 17, and Abby 12. The youngest daughter is close to her father and stands by him. There is trouble in the marriage but despite this they seem to love each other. Ben’s slacker friend Dave lives in their guest house – drinks too much and is a womanizer. Tom, the murder victim is the son of Jess an attractive woman who live across the street. She has an ex special forces husband from whom she is estranged and who is recently showing violent tendencies.
I want to avoid giving any spoilers to those who haven’t seen the show yet so I won’t do a play-by-play on the story itself. It is well-written for the most part and worth watching. However, I had some problems suspending my disbelief in certain areas:
1. Ben is immediately regarded as a suspect and crucified in the press, shunned by the neighbors and even his house is vandalized. But the writer fails to show us why. There are several interactions between Ben and Detective Cornell that are tense and accusative but we don’t know why. There is no explanation why people immediately jump to the conclusion that Ben would kill a five-year-old boy. No criminal background, no unsavory interaction with children, no apparent motive. Yet within 24 hours people are convinced Ben did it and are distancing themselves from him. Why? I just couldn’t buy that it would happen that quickly without some substantial reason.
2. Detective Cornell is a very unlikable character. She is sour-faced from moment she appears on the scene. Granted, murder investigators lead grim lives and their work must weigh on them but they aren’t necessarily grump, sourpusses who cock their eyebrow and smirk at everything that moves. Also, I don’t think that detectives are that obvious, even they suspect someone of a crime, especially if they haven’t got any solid evidence, they aren’t going to come at a suspect like that. Instead, I’d expect them to be a little more friendly, and try to get their suspect to trust them a little, hopefully so they might slip and give themselves away.
Summary
Overall I think the story is good and the characters will be flushed out as the story is told. The production values are good. And Phillipe is quite good as the confused and isolated man accused of a terrible crime. There are lots of twists and turns and surprise reveals that create doubt for the viewer and should keep people watching. So, if you like a good solid mystery I think this will be a good addition to your Sunday night viewing and it’s positioned between Once Upon a Time and Revenge, so it should get decent traction.
Personally, I’d like to know more about Detective Cornell and why she is such a tight ass and more about Jess, the victim’s mother. I am suspicious of her already and believe we’ll find her caught in some pretty big lies in the not too distant future.
Did you see the show? What did you think? Any theories on who did it yet?
Let me know in the comments.
Today’s indie author is MJ Belko. In her article she discusses the irony of not being a mystery reader and yet having written a mystery picture book for kids. Take it away, MJ.
MJ Belko (O’Leary) was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1963 to an Irish family of cops, firemen, and the occasional priest. She is a US Army veteran of the Cold War era and spent about seven years as a lieutenant on her city’s Community Emergency Response Team. After working for an arson investigator, a private investigator, homeschooling two sons, and spending years as a medical transcriptionist editing medical reports, she finally decided to pursue her dream of being a writer. She released her first children’s book, “Winthrop Risk, Detective”, on Amazon in 2016. MJ currently resides in Michigan with her husband of more than 30 years.
Anita Rodgers Mystery Writer 