Reading and Reviews (Jackson and Hart)

I'm an author, but I'm also a reader. From time to time, I'll share my reviews of present and past reads. My available time to read is limited because I write, but I love to curl up with a paperback or an eBook at night for the last hour of my day. 

I tend to read what I write, but not exclusively. Besides Romantic Suspense and mystery, I read crime and law novels, once in a while a true story, WWII historicals, romance, and mainstream character driven books.

Here are some of the books I've read recently or in the not-too-distant past. Maybe you'll discover a new book or author.

Born to Die (An Alvarez & Pescoli Novel) by Lisa Jackson 

A sad, strange coincidence. . .that's Dr. Kacey Lambert's initial response to the deaths of two women who bear an uncanny resemblance to herself. It's not like there was any real connection between Kacey and the B-movie actress or the elementary school teacher. But Detective Selena Alvarez suspects otherwise.

Can Be. . .

One of the bodies contained traces of poison at the time of death. Selena and her partner, Detective Regan Pescoli, can find no motive for murder. But Kacey has started to notice ties between the dead women's lives and her own--all close in age, born within miles of each other. And all have links to Trace O'Halleran, the man Kacey just started dating.

Deadly. . .

The deeper Kacey digs, the more reason she has to fear. More look-alikes are dying, and the killer is getting bolder and more brutal. And Kacey knows it's only a matter of time before hers is the next name on a list of those who were born to die. . .

 MY REVIEW:

I waited too long to review this book. My memory… But I do remember that I enjoyed it. I refuse to finish books that aren’t entertaining me. The only thing that made me scratch my head was there were so many women. Not that I have anything against women, I am one. But the lack of diversity was noticeable. The cops are women, the detective is female, the doctor is a woman. I was beginning to think it was an all-female book. But there is a hero, Trace O’Halleran, and his characterization is appealing. It’s a suspenseful read I can recommend.

 

Dirty Little Secrets (A J.J. Graves Mystery) by Liliana Hart 

J.J. Graves has seen a lot of dead bodies in her line of work...She's not only in the mortuary business, but she's also the coroner for King George County, Virginia. When a grisly murder is discovered in the small town of Bloody Mary, it's up to J.J. and her best friend, Detective Jack Lawson, to bring the victim justice. The murders are piling up...When a popular mystery writer shows up on J.J.'s doorstep with plans of writing his new book about the Bloody Mary Serial Killer, J.J. has to decide if he might be going above and beyond the call of duty to create the spine tinglers he's so well known for. Passions are rising...J.J and Jack discover each victim had a shocking secret, and the very foundation of J.J.'s life is in danger of crumbling when it turns out she’s harboring secrets of her own—secrets that make her a perfect target in a deadly game. 

 MY REVIEW:

J.J. is actually in a bad financial way, in a tiny town where not enough people die, and trying to hold on to the mortuary that her parents left her. J.J. is a great character and so is her cop friend Jack. The story is clever, but the characters in the story are what I enjoyed the most. Her fast-fall relationship with Brody rubbed me wrong. There were holes here and there in the plot. But all in all, I enjoyed it for the most part.

Guest Author Spotlight with Tina Donahue

Let's welcome Tina Donahue to Discover... Her newest release sounds pretty spicy, Erotic Urban Fantasy Romance. Read on for a PG introduction and a sample of a hot new offering from Tina.

She can heal the dying…

Two men—enemies of her people—will stop at nothing to have her gift, her desire and love 

The Prophecy, Book 1 

Trapped in a blood feud, Liz uses her healing power to bring Zeke Neekoma from the brink of death so her clan can exploit his prophecies. During the ceremony, she drapes her nudity over his, experiencing his building strength, the stunning pleasure of his caress as he takes her without warning, using her as he wills. 

His hunger for a woman he’s supposed to hate isn’t what Zeke expected, nor does he intend to deny himself. Kidnapping Liz, he’s resolved that she heal his brother Jacob ambushed by her people. At his stronghold, Zeke keeps Liz captive to his and Jacob’s desires. The brothers pleasure her without restraint and in ways she’s never known. Before, her life was filled with loneliness and wanting. Now… 

Used by two powerful men, threatened by her clan’s determination to get her back, Liz risks all as she surrenders to Zeke’s and Jacob’s lust, the ecstasy of their touch and her most traitorous needs.

AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DL3T3JBF

Excerpt:

He lay in the center of the king-sized bed. His breaths were quiet, his eyes closed, legs sprawled, one arm draped over his head as though he was sleeping.

The bullet holes in his muscular left pec contradicted that notion.

Forcing down a swallow, Liz pulled her attention from his wounds—three perfect black circles—to his face.

Her lips parted on a quiet sigh. Rarely had she seen a man wear such a look of serenity. So unlike the terror she’d witnessed on Carreon’s features or those of his men when they’d been so close to death.

Zeke Neekoma was different. The words boyish and innocent came to mind, which Liz dismissed quickly.

Looking to be in his early thirties, he was no boy. Nor was he innocent. His size, surely six-three, his sharp, masculine features and powerful form were perfect for battle against men and pleasure with women.

Heat suffused Liz, making her limbs feel heavy and weak. She recalled what Carreon and his men had told her about Zeke, no doubt a mixture of truth and lies. Not knowing which was which, she moved deeper into the dimly lit room. Spanish-style lamps created pools of honeyed light, giving the space a sacred feel one might experience in a church. The cherry-wood four-poster dominated the sparsely furnished chamber, while a series of leather wing chairs—reserved for observers—circled the bed.

The man who’d been guarding Zeke left the room. Carreon and his men went to their seats, their weight causing the chairs’ legs to scrape against the polished hardwood floor.

For one foolish moment, Liz thought the intrusive noise would cause Zeke to open his eyes and lose his blissful expression. That he’d ask why they’d pulled him from such blessed rest and what appeared to be happiness.

This man didn’t want to be healed. Liz knew it in her soul; saw it in the upward curve of his beautiful mouth. Was he the same as her father, tired of fighting? Or was he welcoming the end so he could reunite with someone he’d loved?

His parents and siblings, perhaps…or a wife.

A new rush of warmth stung Liz’s chest.

Disturbed by the sensation and her aching loneliness—the need for a powerful yet good man at her side—Liz recalled what Carreon’s lieutenants had claimed the first night she’d come here.

“He’ll murder our women and children so our line dies out, just as his kind have always wanted.”

If that was the truth, then Zeke was no different from Carreon, who hunted the weakest, eliminating them first. Once more, she examined Zeke’s face, lingering on his mouth. Instead of a sneer or a smirk, she imagined him smiling at her, his grin honest, reaching his eyes, his wanting of her obvious and—

Stop it.

What was the matter with her, indulging in a romantic fantasy when she was well aware of their people’s conflict and unending hatred for each other? Even if Zeke wasn’t a murdering psychopath, he wasn’t likely to be stirred by a woman from an enemy clan. So why was he affecting her like this? Was it a power he had…or something else. Perhaps the truth as to who he really was?

Ignoring her persistent longing, Liz replaced it with a healthy dose of distrust. “This is Zeke Neekoma?”

“You sound surprised,” Carreon said. “Why?”

About Tina: 

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction. 

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes. 

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue 

Life's Adventures: Truth is Funnier Than Fiction

Years ago, when my brother was in his tile laying days and working for someone else, he spent one awful night in a cheap motel. He had me in tears...the laughing kind...as he told the story of his misery. I knew I'd have to use it someday in a book. And I did eventually. In the book, I added my guy to a band and a struggle with sobriety, but the night was directly taken from my brother's mirserable night in the motel from hell. This is the fictional scene resulting from a true-life adventure.

At room number four, he unlocked the door and wrinkled his nose at the smell of mildew and stale cigarette smoke.

What do I expect for $44.95?

His boot sole caught on the carpet, bunched and torn at the doorjamb, and sent him on a stutter-step to keep his balance. “Damn.” The genuine fake leather upper had pulled away from the sole on his left boot.

He felt around on the wall and flipped on the overhead light. The bulb flickered for a moment, long enough to see the bedside table lamp, and went dark. He threw his bag on the mattress, switched on the lamp, and plopped down on the lumpy, squeaky bed. His stomach growled. After turning on the wall heater, he settled down to eat his fast food burger.

The TV sat lopsided on the scarred bureau. When a glance around the room didn’t give up a remote, he stretched forward without rising from the foot of the bed, and punched the on button. Static greeted him on the three local channels available. Maybe he should change rooms.

“Bugger that.”

It probably wouldn’t matter anyway. He’d read. What he needed was a good night’s sleep. A full stomach and a shower should help secure one. He vowed not to look at the bedding too closely when he pulled back the cover.

In a half-hour, naked, he slipped into bed, opened his book, and closed his mind to money woes as he began his ten-minute meditation. Relaxed, he focused on the book.

Sometime later, he jerked awake and knocked the book from his chest. He was freezing. Pulling the sheet and blanket over his head didn’t stop the chill that reached all the way to his toes. Silence. No click, click, bonk noise of the heater. He slid one arm out, brought his cell under the covers, and pushed a button. Four twelve a.m.

Reluctantly, he switched on the lamp, shivered out of bed, and padded three feet to the heater. He leaned over and shut it off, then turned it on. Punched low, high, and fan-only buttons over and over, then pounded on the plastic top.

“Son of a…”

Switching off and on once more got no results. His toes were iced by the outside air flowing under the door. He grabbed his jeans off the chair and stuffed them along the bottom of the door then climbed back under the covers.

The thin blanket and sheet were no match for the drop in temperature. After fifteen minutes of trying to think warm, he had an idea. Out of bed, he jogged to the bathroom and turned the shower to hot, full blast. Immediately, the air around him warmed. The chill on his skin subsided before he headed back to bed and yanked off the sheet, blanket, and pillow. He slipped on his shirt and underwear and carried the bedding back to the bathroom. The floor looked kind of nasty, but the sheet, doubled over next to the shower, covered the old linoleum. Wrapping the blanket around him, he settled on top, bumped his knees on the wall, and hunched his shoulders to fit. Good thing he wasn’t a particularly big man. His legs were long on his five-foot ten frame and difficult to fold small enough, like a stork squeezing into a wren’s nest. Hopefully, the running, hot water would keep him warm enough to get a few more hours of sleep.

“Ass wipe.” The curse, directed at his shyster boss, muffled into his pillow.

Another curse at himself for all the wrong decisions he’d made that landed him in this position didn’t fully form on his lips. Instead, he recited Step Ten. Continue the personal inventory. What the hell…this might be a crummy hotel, and he was cold and tired, but he felt every shivering, crappy moment of it. Not that a shot of Chopin Vodka to warm him didn’t cross his mind. He would’ve had several and a few snorts this time last year. And wouldn’t have felt the cold…or the hard floor…or much of anything else.

Thoughts of a few nights in crummy hotels when his band, Flash Theory, struggled to make a name for themselves played in his head. That brought him wondering about Ian, the English drummer who shared his arrest date.

“Bugger you, Ian.” The profanity he’d adopted from the Englishman rolled over his tongue with a smile. He hadn’t contacted his favorite band mate and best friend since sobriety. They weren’t a good influence on each other. Maybe one of these days…

About an hour and a half later, Jake woke, cold again and his legs cramping. He pulled his knees to his chest and rolled toward the bathroom door, glancing at the ceiling.

“What the…”

Strips of paint hung like confetti from a New Year’s Eve party. Had the ceiling looked like that last night? He scrambled to his feet, tangled in the blanket, and tripped on the sheet bunching on the floor. Catching himself on the back of the toilet, his hip hit the bar on the shower door. “Ow!”

After shutting off the now cold shower water, he extricated his legs from the bedding and surveyed the ceiling again.

“Ah, man.”

Surely he hadn’t caused that. The place was a dump. Yeah, probably already peeling long before he turned on the shower.

The time had come to flee the motel from hell.

After throwing the blanket and sheet on the bed, he brushed his teeth, and smoothed his beard with a comb. He ran a brush through his hair as he squinted into the cloudy mirror above the sink. Dark curls fell onto his forehead in spite of his effort. He stuffed his toiletries in the duffle, then loped to the door and retrieved his jeans from the floor. His frozen jeans. Damp air combined with below freezing wind from under the door had rendered his pants stiff.

He slumped back on the bed and laughed. “You know, Winters, if you weren’t so pitiful, you’d be amusing.”

You can find this story in full in either The Power of Love and Murder (A Wild Horse Peaks Book)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BPVTDH7B

 or in Wild Horse Peaks: The Complete Series.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DD4Z1V6P

In the Book

Blogging about life's adventures and books...

Adventures past, present, or future. And my books--then and now. 

RELEASE DAY OCTOBER 15, 2024

It took me three years to get around to it, but I finally compiled the short stories with a Christmas theme into a book, Have Yourself a Quirky Little Christmas. I've been so busy writing full length books in my series, I kept putting off getting the Christmas stories edited and polished. At last!

I had fun with these. They aren't typical, hence the name of the book. These stories are not meant for children, but adults and young adults can enjoy the quirky tales.

Six quirky Christmas stories sure to brighten your holiday lights. 

An Elfin Secret

Candy Cane has never actually seen her father. Could he be Santa Claus? Did her mother have an elf romance? What happens if she’s right? 

On the Way to the Snow Ball

Nicholas Claus could be delusional, or he might be the sanest person in the elevator. Christmas miracles come when you least expect. 

Never Alone on Christmas

After decades of dancing his way from woman to woman, Jonathan Jay Somefun now finds variety-is-the-spice-of-life tasteless. Will this be the Christmas he finds his new style and ends his lonely days? 

Love in the Vault

A kiss under the mistletoe, a gun in her ribs, and a lockup in the company vault. If her best friend Cricket arranged this joke, Eleanor will never speak to her again. Or is it a joke? 

A Tropical Holiday

Fresh off divorce, Yuma Camry is winging it alone in unreasonably cold Mexico. Whether she’s wandering through ghostly Mayan ruins under a cloudy sky or lying on a chilly beach in the bikini she paid too much for, can a stranger with even stranger ideas help her reconnect with herself this Christmas? 

No Room at the Inn

Sadi Anne hates Christmas. Volunteering to work through the holiday season is the only way to keep her mind off that heartbreak Christmas three years earlier. But when the hotel loses her reservation, a truck smashes her parked car, and three wisemen come to the rescue, this may be one Christmas she won’t want to forget. And neither will the man who broke her heart.

Available in eBook and print:

CLICK HERE TO ORDER ON AMAZON