Unforgettable Revenge: Glory and Satisfaction is the latest box set released by the Author’s Billboard. The collection is chock full of Romantic Suspense stories to set your heart fluttering and your veins thrumming!
Eight New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors have joined forces to bring you fast-paced love stories so filled with passion and danger, you won’t want to put them down.

Today, we shine the spotlight on Special Agent Hunter by Mimi Barbour (NYT & USAT best-selling, award-winning author) 

Blurb:  

Detective Cora Taylor isn’t expecting the cop who’d haunted her dreams for ten years to return and find her drunk, wearing a torn wedding dress, and surrounded with tiny, white puppies. Go figure her rotten luck. The last time they’d met, she’d been a sweet-looking rookie too fearful to shoot a killer who ended up later murdering a family of four. 

Guilt from that night changed her into a speed demon, a hardened detective with colorful language… in fact a whole new persona. One who wears too much makeup, bleaches her short messy hair, and has developed professional skills that earns everyone’s respect. 

Agent Kal Hunter remains flummoxed by the altered vision of the pony-tailed rookie he remembers to the sexy woman he sees today. Being OCD about most things in his world, this unconventional female rings his bell constantly. Besides his need to have her assistance in stopping the ten-year-old, cold-case killer who’s again on a rampage, there’s something about her he can’t resist. 

She’s her own boss, a cop who has no illusions. Yet when her shell is penetrated, there’s sweetness that rips a man to pieces. 

He has only one worry. 

When they meet up with the savage killer this time, will… can she take the shot? 

Excerpt: 

Kal had never before been greeted at an unlocked door by a fluffball of white exuberance. Upon entering Cora Taylor’s home, hit with the doggy smell he knew well enough from his own place, they stepped into the kitchen and could see why the odor had lingered. 

A woman, her short blonde hair sticking out all over her head, tears messing with closed eyes completely covered in mascara and eyeliner running over her tear-dried cheeks, lay propped against the wall. A ruffled white wedding gown spilled around her body as she was spread-eagled on the floor, one ripped satin sleeve hanging loose.  

An empty bottle of expensive rum was clutched in the right hand while one of the multiple pups snoozed in the left. Other fluffies were curled into her skirts, the ruffles hiding their bodies until they moved, stumbling forward on fat little legs to get their portion of attention. He counted five in all until the mother dog moved into her position of protection. Her lips growled a warning toward him as if she was worried he was planning to mess with her mistress. 

Stunned, he stood back, having to use the counter for support. My Lord, he wanted so badly to pull out his phone and take a shot of the indescribable scene. The man with him began to chuckle under his breath before he turned to Kal. “It’s Cora’s weekend. I forgot.” 

“Does she do this every weekend?” Stunned, he asked the question, hoping the answer would clear up his vision of a cop suffering a really bad problem.  

“God, no. It’s only one weekend each year – you know, close to the same one as ten years ago when the first killing happened. She handles this time in her own way – gets drunk and lives through the three days as best she can. Only this year her best friend Sadie got married, so she has the wedding dress on.” 

“Wait, if her friend Sadie was getting married, why does Cora have on the dress?” 

“Because Sadie found out that her fiancé, Jon, got Briana, her partner at their hair salon, pregnant and ran away before the ceremony. Guess they changed clothes before she headed to the airport, leaving Cora to deal with the groom and the guests. Gotta say it was a humdinger watching Cora beat the bastard with the bouquet before she told the rest of us to enjoy the luncheon and then hightailed it outta there to come home and hide away for the rest of the time.” 

Captain Swanson, Larry, finally leaned down to pick up one of the squalling pups. He petted the fussing mother dog so she wouldn’t fret. “It’s okay, Charli. I won’t hurt your babies.” 

She’d backed down when it was Larry who’d moved in and not the stranger she seemed wary of. “This one is going to be our baby once she’s weaned.”  

Just as Kal felt his head would explode, Cora opened her bleary eyes and stared at the two men. Words spoken in a rusty tone of indignant reprisal were not quite whispered, but close. “Get out of my house, or I’ll get my gun.” 

“Now she’s going to shoot.” Kal’s muttered words made Larry grin, but he ignored him and bent down to the woman. “Honey, no one’s shooting anyone. We need your help, so get your shit together and clean yourself up.” 

Cora moved her hand, and realizing she still held a puppy, she gently lowered it to rest on her skirt. Dropping the empty rum bottle, she raised her hands to her eyes, her clenched fists leaving more of a mess on her colorful cheeks.  

Dried tears destroyed the kaleidoscope of blues and purples that had once graced her eyes. The streaks of black that had been mascara and eyeliner in another life made her look like a desperate rock star who’d gone wild with her makeup. 

Seeing that the men weren’t going to budge, she tried to stand, only to fall over from the weight of the heavy crinoline skirt and the pups still using it as their mattress.  

Larry reached down to scatter a couple of the pups, while Kal lifted the one nearest him only to get his face washed from the fluffy white handful. Sad for having to put it down, he lowered it close to where the food bowls had been filled but were now destroyed with pellets scattered everywhere.  

Pointing toward the man who earned a scowl, Cora spoke in a strained voice. “Who’s the stranger you brought into my house?” Struggling to get to her feet, she fell back in a mound of tangled satin skirts, her bare legs showing among the mess of satin and crinoline. Before he could answer, she waved her hand. “Never mind. Just help me up, and then find me some Tylenol. I mean a bottle of the sons of bitches. I need a shower. And grab those fucking puppies before they get into the rest of the place and shit everywhere. Call Mona and tell her to get her ass over here. She was supposed to pick up the little bastards the day after the wedding.” 

“It is the day after the wedding. She probably tried to get your attention, but you’d be too drunk to answer your phone, Rookie.” 

“Bull. She knows where I keep the keys. You did.” 

“The door was open when I got here.” 

“See!” 

Scratching his head, seeming to know better than to argue, Larry asked, his tone reasonable, “Did you hear anyone knocking?” 

As if his words got through, she slammed her hand on the wall to stop from falling over and whirled around to face him. “Shit. Do I have to do everything around here? Whatever. Call her.” 

“Say please, and I might.” 

“How about I say go fuck yourself?” 

Laughing as if he’d heard the biggest joke ever, Larry nodded. “Go get cleaned up, honeybunch. I brought an old friend of yours, but he wouldn’t recognize you today. Hell, I’m having trouble myself. Never thought I’d see you wearing a wedding dress, Rookie.” 

Cora stopped struggling to walk, pulling at the skirts, and cussing under her breath. She turned and glared at Kal, then lowered her head as if she had no idea or gave a damn who he was.  

If Kal hadn’t have been so close, he wouldn’t have seen her eyes widen or her cracked lips clutch her teeth as if to hold in a cry. Then she’d swung around so quickly, her skirts almost pulled her down before she struggled to get the crinoline and ruffles through the doorway into the other part of the house.  

He managed to grab the same puppy who’d nestled in her hand and who suddenly began to follow the woman who’d given her warmth and been so gentle. The baby cried in frustration, struggling to shadow the one she’d chosen as hers. 

Kal knew exactly how the wriggler felt…  

You can get your copy of Special Agent Hunter through any of these vendors:

International Link: mybook.to/specialagenthunter 

Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Special-Agent-Hunter-Undercover-Book-ebook/dp/B08Q7D4NFS/  

AMAZON.CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Special-Agent-Hunter-Undercover-Book-ebook/dp/B08Q7D4NFS/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=special+agent+hunter&qid=1608080514&sr=8-1  

AMAZON.UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Special-Agent-Hunter-Undercover-Book-ebook/dp/B08Q7D4NFS/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=special+agent+hunter&qid=1608080547&sr=8-1  

AMAZON.AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Special-Agent-Hunter-Undercover-Book-ebook/dp/B08Q7D4NFS/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=special+agent+hunter&qid=1608080590&sr=8-3  

AMAZON.IN: https://www.amazon.in/Special-Agent-Hunter-Undercover-Book-ebook/dp/B08Q7D4NFS/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=special+agent+hunter&qid=1608080625&sr=8-2  

GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56425881-special-agent-hunter?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=UyMTEQciHd&rank=3  

Special Agent Hunter is also available in the the Unforgettable Revenge: Glory and Satisfaction Box set.

Well, here it is! The perfect way to spend a morning, an afternoon, or an evening.

A collection chock full of Romantic Suspense stories to set your heart fluttering and your veins thrumming!
Eight New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors have joined forces to bring you fast-paced love stories so filled with passion and danger, you won’t want to put it down.
Discover mystery where you least expect it in this romance set brimming with heroes and heroines who are everything from cops and common folks to the supernatural as they battle despicable villains in intense situations, finding love despite unseen peril lurking in the shadows.

Featuring:

Mimi Barbour – Special Agent Hunter: The killer’s back, needling Agent Hunter to try his luck again. New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Rebecca York – Terror Mansion: He thinks she’s in danger. She thinks he’s scamming her. New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Angela Stevens – The Devil’s Own: Bowker Street: It’s not every day that a Priest finds a sexy devil in his confessional. International Bestselling Authors

Taylor Lee – Topaz: Ladies of the Night: A hideous incident in Topaz’s teenaged past gives her a dangerous connection to the international Cartel leader at the top of the DEA’s most wanted list. USA Today Bestselling Author.

Susanne Matthews – Fire Angel: The past and the present collide in the hunt for a serial killer. International Bestselling Author

Callie Bardot – Looks Like Trouble to Me (Uncut: Book 1 in the Bad Boys Need Love, Too Series): He’s trying to escape trouble. But she’s just the kind of trouble he needs. New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Jennifer St. Giles – Kaylee’s Justice: She knows what you did…you will be exposed. USA Today Bestselling Author.

Susan Jean Ricci – Turning Up the Heat: Mark and Malibu are happily headed towards matrimony… until an old adversary sabotages their plans with a devious scheme. USA Today Bestselling Author.

Here’s a taste from Fire Angel.

Everything happens for a reason.

Criminal profiler Jake McKenzie returned from Afghanistan minus a leg, determined never to let anyone get close enough to hurt him again. When his old friend asks him to help with a serial arsonist case, he jumps at the chance to prove his worth, but as the bodies pile up, he realizes he needs help. He convinces the chief to bring in a fire investigator, stunned to discover that the woman is none other than the girl who vanished from his life twenty years ago.

Alexis Michaels fled Paradise and an abusive uncle only to almost die in a fire that left her scarred not only on the outside, but on the inside, leaving her with psychic abilities. With that gift, she’s climbed to the top of her profession. Her abilities may be the only thing that can find and stop the Fire Angel, a pyromaniac turned revenge arsonist serial killer who’s slowly turning a peaceful town into Hell on Earth. The problem is, to do the job, she has to return to the one place where she swore she would never set foot again. Faced with confusing emotions and a killer who’s made it clear he wants her to stay out of his business, Alexis must deal with the past before she can move on. But things may get too hot even for her as the Fire Angel moves toward the final act in his revenge drama.

There was no doubt in Alexis’s mind that Jake was in a hurry to get home. His hands gripped the wheel, his eyes focused on the road, and his jaw was clenched so tightly he could probably break his own teeth.

What had she said or done that had disturbed him so badly? Was he upset because he hadn’t thought to have the bottles tested for the drug? Somehow, she sensed it was more than that. How she wished she could read people as well as she did fires and those who set them.

“When we get home, I’ll let you settle into the guest room while I talk to Minette. Then, tonight we can work on the list of suspects, pick out the most critical points, and work from those. We can factor an accomplice into the equation, too. I want to have something to give Everett before this bastard strikes again. Do you think you can take me through how you figured all that stuff out yesterday and today? Maybe explain how you come to the conclusions you do? It feels like we’ve been working together for months, not days, and I still don’t know how you operate. I know you’re used to working alone, so am I, but … If that full moon is part of this…” he shook his head. “Clouds and rain didn’t stop him from setting the house fire.”

Alexis licked her lips and nodded. Maybe she could give him a bit more to work with without coming off as a nut job as Bob had called her.

“I can try. Listen, I need to call Captain Peters and check in. I can do that while you handle the inn’s business, and we can talk about what I figured out and how I did it after supper.”

“That works for me.” Jake parked the SUV at the front of the inn and led her into the lobby.

A beautiful dark-haired woman stood behind the desk. She looked up and her face broke into a smile.

“Jake, you’re early,” she said, stepping around the desk and motioning to Leon, the man who’d served them breakfast, to take her place. “I was afraid Mia would miss you again. If you’ve got a minute, Jim Turner wants to talk to you. He says he has some of that information you wanted. He’s in the dining room.”

“I’ll do that right now. Can you get Alexis settled?” He turned to her. “I won’t be long,” he said, walking toward the dining room and leaving her alone with the inn’s manager.

The woman shook her head. “Leave it to Jake. He could’ve introduced us at least. Oh well.” She held out her hand. “Ms. Michaels, I’m Minette McKenzie.”

Alexis’s hand froze midway and she had to force it the rest of the way to the outstretched one. She leaned against the counter to steady herself. McKenzie? As in Jake McKenzie? She wasn’t just the manager, an employee, or girlfriend. No. She was his wife. Why hadn’t he said so? He’d said family, but she’d taken it to mean business family not the real deal.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, grateful her voice sounded normal.

Minette had long, dark, silky brown hair that hung in a braid almost to her waist. She had beautiful, large, doe-brown eyes, and a clear olive complexion devoid of any type of cosmetics. She appeared to be in her late twenties, younger than Alexis was, but it was sometimes hard to tell people’s ages. She was petite, with an hour-glass figure, and the jeans and peach cashmere sweater she wore emphasized her curves. She had a beautiful, friendly smile, and her welcome was genuine.

“I’ve unpacked your vehicle and put your car in our garage. Everything is in our spare room, including the emergency lamps. Jake mentioned you dislike the dark.” She opened the door to the apartment. “My daughter Mia’s home. Claimed she had a sick tummy, but after a rest, she seems fine. She’s watching television with Maya. She’ll be glad that Jake’s back. She missed seeing him yesterday.”

Mutely, Alexis followed her hostess into the apartment, placed her kit on the shelf as Jake had this morning, and hung up her coat.

“Come inside where it’s warm and dry. I’ve never liked this damp, miserable weather. We have similar weather in Quebec, and I hated it.”

“You’re from Quebec?” she asked, trying to be polite and not let the sudden jealousy she’d felt at the thought that Jake was married show.

“Yes. From Quebec City. Both Luke, Minette’s father, and I were born and raised there, although we didn’t meet until we served together in Afghanistan. He died four months before Mia was born.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alexis said, knowing those were the appropriate words. “Why didn’t you go back to Quebec?”

“I did. I was there with Luke’s mother until Mia was born, but when she was six-months old, David, Jake’s brother, begged me to come back for a few months. I’ve been in the Reserves for as long as I can remember, serving my country to the best of my ability. Losing Luke was hard, but I thought if I could finish what I’d started, I might be able to cope better with the loss. Mia stayed with Luke’s mother. It was what he would’ve wanted. He was a doctor, killed by a roadside bomb on his way back to camp after delivering twins and saving a woman’s life. I was a surgical nurse, and they desperately needed my skills. After I remarried and Jake was injured, I came back here to look after him, moved Mia and my mother-in-law in with us, and now I cook and manage the inn.”

“I’m sure he appreciates your help, especially since he’s working with the police. Is your mother-in-law here?” Did her voice sound as cold as she felt?

“No.” She grinned, her eyes filled with anticipation. “Both of them are in Florida, but they’ll all be back in Paradise for Christmas.”

She stepped into the apartment. A little dark-haired girl sat on the sofa, wrapped in a pink blanket. The gas fireplace was on and the room was nice and warm.

“Mia, this is Ms. Michaels,” Minette said coming up to stand behind Alexis. “She’ll be our guest for a while. She’s helping Jake and the police.”

Why hadn’t she referred to him as daddy? The child had never met her real father. Wouldn’t Jake want to take on that role?

The little girl smiled.

“Hi.” Her brown eyes, so similar to her mother’s, were filled with curiosity. “I’m Amelia, but you can call me Mia. Everyone does. I’m five. My daddy died in the war. He’s got a medal and everything. Do you have a daddy?”

“No,” she answered, too surprised by the child’s outgoing nature to do anything but answer in kind. “My dad died in a plane crash a long time ago.”

Minette walked from behind Alexis. “Mia, enough television for now. Why don’t you go get your coat and take Maya out on the deck while Ms. Michaels settles in? You can ask all your questions later.” She turned to her. “Believe me, she’ll talk your ear off if you let her.”

“Okay.” The child jumped off the couch and ran to get her coat and boots.

“If you’ll follow me, Ms. Michaels,” Minette said, turning down the hall that led to the bedrooms. “Will you be ready to eat in about an hour? I know it’s early, but Mia goes to bed by eight.”

“Call me Alexis. That’s fine. I didn’t sleep well last night and an early night sounds good. I’m sure Jake needs his bed, too. He was limping a lot today…”

Order your copy today only 99cents or free in Kindle Unlimited

Welcome back to Tuesday Tales. This is picture prompt week. I continue with The White Dahlia, but since I’m working on the book more consistently, the story is moving ahead more quickly. To put this scene in context, Beth and Al are now working with the FBI on this case. They’ve confirmed that Al’s missing wife, Sylvia, was indeed one of the victims. Now, they’ve received another piece of critical information. Here’s the picture I chose.

Enjoy!

“The x-rays arrived from Kansas. The bone remodeling matches the injuries Rachel sustained six years ago, confirming the identification. Dr. Smith says they tapped her for bone marrow—there were a few small bone scars—and Rachel has given birth. She found a series of shotgun pellet-sized marks along the inside of the pelvic bone. They’re caused by tearing ligaments during childbirth and are a permanent record of the delivery. The doctor can’t tell me when she gave birth or even how many times, but she hopes to have more soon. It may have been to collect stem cells found in the placenta which would be worth a small fortune. God alone knows what may have happened to the child.”

Beth paled so completely that Al thought she would pass out.

“What’s wrong, Beth?”

She licked her lips, and he knew she was going to lie to him.

“I was just thinking he could sell the baby on the black market,” she whispered. “Before we realized that the child who’d been taken in Baltimore was actually one of the Harvester children, we suspected she might’ve been taken by a black market human trafficking organization.”

“Bullshit! There’s something else, something you aren’t telling me.”

She stood and walked over to the coffee machine, her hand trembling so much she could barely pour the hot liquid into her mug.

“Talk to me, Beth. What’s going on here?” He took the mug out of her quivering hands, undone by the tears brimming her eyes.

“This may be my worst nightmare,” she whispered. “I have to be certain we’re not making the evidence fit the theory rather than the other way around. If Rachel was drawn into the sex trade as you suspected, she wouldn’t be the first one to get pregnant.”

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Thank you for stopping by this morning to read my IWSG post. As Alex C. said, this past year was a tough one for all of us. For many, natural disasters ran hand in hand with political, economic, and medical ones. As I was getting ready to write this post, I was watching the movie, 2012. Remember that year 2012? According to the Mayans, it was the year the world was supposed to end. Fascinating idea. What if someone transposed the numbers, and it was really 2021? Just something else to worry about as we enter the second year of the pandemic!

January 6 question – Being a writer, when you’re reading someone else’s work, what stops you from finishing a book/throws you out of the story/frustrates you the most about other people’s books?

Even before I became a writer, there were a few things that would turn me off when I was reading someone else’s work. The greatest of these was a weak plot or one that fell apart midway through the story. Timelines were inconsistent, and there were a number of plot points left unresolved–not intentionally by the author, since we all do that when we’re working on a series, but just set aside and forgotten. If they are minor points, it’s irritating, but if they are significant enough to impact the story, it’s frustrating.

I like to equate such things to a scene in Vacation, when Chevy Chase ties the dog to the bumper of the car. No one pays any more attention to the animal until they stop again and all that’s left is the dog’s collar at the end of the leash. I realize it was meant to be funny, but to animal lovers it was even more horrifying than tying the dead aunt’s body in her rocking chair on the roof of the car.

Dangling plot elements left unresolved will actually stop me from reading another book by the same author.

The second thing that will turn me off very quickly is the overuse of sex in a novel. I get it. People like a little spice, but when there is so much spice that it obliterates the plot, well, that’s it for me. If sex is needed to move the story along, to show growth in a relationship, then by all means, but I far prefer to leave the actual act to my imagination. I don’t need a vivid description of her wahoo. There are very few books I haven’t managed to finish, but those that I haven’t all had this flaw. I suffered through a trilogy a few years back because everyone was raving about it. I didn’t find the plot until the third book. First time in my life that I’ve ever read three books in less than four hours, but easy to do when I was skipping pages of same old, same old.

A third thing that will affect my enjoyment of a book is poorly developed or one-dimensional characters, another flaw found in the trilogy. If I can’t identify with the hero or heroine, it’s impossible to get into a story–if i can find it..

Finally, in addition to writing, I am an editor, a natural evolution from thirty plus years as an English teacher. While spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors may be annoying, they don’t define a book if the plot is sound and the characters well developed. Let’s face it. A few typos always manage to survive even the most rigorous editing, and those few won’t make or break a book for me. What will ruin one is if it’s riddled with errors. poor sentence, unnecessary repetition, in addition to needless foul language and the overuse of slang. I get it. Sometimes those words are necessary to develop a specific character and flesh out a situation, but there shouldn’t be more foul language on a page than proper English.

Of course, this is all personal preference. To find out how other writers/ readers feel, check out some of the other posts here. https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

See you next month.

Welcome to the first Tuesday Tales post of 2021. We are back in COVID 19 lockdown here, so thus far, 2021 isn’t much different from 2020. This week’s word prompt is CLOCK. I’m continuing with The White Dahlia.

“You aren’t clinically agoraphobic—if you were, you wouldn’t step outside—but you’re wary of crowds. A lot of people are and for a number of reasons. My mother avoids them, especially during flu season. As far as sleeping goes, you may never sleep well—even if you invest in the world’s best mattress—not after everything you’ve been through. Most people don’t see even 1 percent of the ugliness you have these last eight years. I can’t change what you’ve seen, what you may yet see. All I can do is make you face your humanity, make you understand that nothing that has happened is your fault. You have an incredible ability to soldier on through anything. It’s an admirable quality. I just want you to remember that you’re human, too. Being scared is the basis of our survival skill as a species. If we ignore our concerns, we’ll all end up in more trouble than any of us can handle. You’re allowed to rant and rave, scream and shout, cry and wail, and smile and laugh. Make friends, fall in love. What you aren’t allowed to do is bottle everything up inside the way you have for years. I’m giving you the all-clear to go back to work. If we have werewolves in Brooklyn, then the NYPD is going to need its best soldiers to track the beasts down.”

“It isn’t a werewolf,” Beth said, her voice low and troubled. “It’s far worse than that, maybe even worse than Boston.” The Brass wasn’t commenting yet on what they’d found. “I can’t be more specific. The Commissioner will brief the Press when he has something concrete to tell them.” She glanced at the clock. Her time was up. “Thanks, Maggie. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Letting me go back to work is what I need most. I have to stay busy. We both know it. And, if tracking down this latest monster is on my agenda, so be it.” “Sometimes the only way to deal with demons is to confront them. Like many in Trinidad, my grandmother claimed to have the sight. She maintained that in life, we were where we were meant to be. If you’re the one who is destined to do this, you will. But you need to get a life outside of work. Join a gym. I’m not saying you have to start shopping at Macy’s.”

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

UNFORGETTABLE REVENGE, another fantastic box set in the Unforgettables series.

A collection chock full of Romantic Suspense stories to set your heart fluttering and your veins thrumming!
Eight New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors have joined forces to bring you fast-paced love stories so filled with passion and danger, you won’t want to put it down.
Discover mystery where you least expect it in this romance set brimming with heroes and heroines who are everything from cops and common folks to the supernatural as they battle despicable villains in intense situations, finding love despite unseen peril lurking in the shadows.

Regardless of where you are right now, life is complicated. In the Northern Hemisphere, winter is starting and for many of us that means the next three months will be cold with plenty of snow. If you live in the Southern Hemisphere, then perhaps it’s time to head to the beach for sun and fun. The pandemic has made life more complicated, but humans are resilient and we’ve learned to cope. With a vaccine available now, soon we’ll be able to put the worst of 2020 behind us, but until then, we’ll wear our masks, socially distance, wash our hands, and hunker down with good books.

This new suspense romance box set from the Author’s Billboards promises plenty of thrills and chills. Here’s a peak at what you’ll find.

Mimi Barbour – Special Agent Hunter: The killer’s back, needling Agent Hunter to try his luck again. New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Rebecca York – Terror Mansion: He thinks she’s in danger. She thinks he’s scamming her. New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Angela Stevens – The Devil’s Own: Bowker Street: It’s not every day that a Priest finds a sexy devil in his confessional. International Bestselling Authors

Taylor Lee – Topaz: Ladies of the Night: A hideous incident in Topaz’s teenaged past gives her a dangerous connection to the international Cartel leader at the top of the DEA’s most wanted list. USA Today Bestselling Author.

Susanne Matthews – Fire Angel: the past and the present collide in the hunt for a serial killer. International Bestselling Author

Callie Bardot – Looks Like Trouble to Me (Uncut: Book 1 in the Bad Boys Need Love, Too Series): He’s trying to escape trouble. But she’s just the kind of trouble he needs. New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author.

Jennifer St. Giles – Kaylee’s Justice: She knows what you did…you will be exposed. USA Today Bestselling Author.

Susan Jean Ricci – Turning Up the Heat: Mark and Malibu are happily headed towards matrimony… until an old adversary sabotages their plans with a devious scheme. USA Today Bestselling Author.

So, reserve your copy of Unforgettable Revenge today. The box set releases January 15, 2021. Start your reading year off with this incredible collection. https://books2read.com/URevenge

Welcome to the last Tuesday Tales posting of 2020. It has been an incredibly long year, so I, for one, am wishing and praying for a better 2021 May the new year bring an end to the pandemic for everyone, a rise in economics, and a general lightening of the stress of the past year.

This week’s word prompt is YEAR! I’m continuing with The White Dahlia. Enjoy.

She shook her head. “It wasn’t until it was all over that day in the park that I realized a lot of the blood around me was mine. The woman he assaulted survived, the men who came to her defense didn’t.” She licked her lips. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. The yelling, the goading, it was as if he had a death wish. The department claims I’m a hero, that I saved lives that day, but I was acting on something I couldn’t control, and I know it may cost me my right to go back to work, but Maggie, faced with the same situation, I would react the same way.”

“And you think that’s wrong?” The doctor twirled the pen she held, her brow furrowed.

“God, no! He had to be stopped—just like whoever is responsible for that has to be taken down.” She indicated the newspaper. “But I’m scared, damn it! There are too many of them, and I feel alone, powerless to make a difference. Back in Boston, we cut the head off the snake, but we were too late. He’d already given birth to others. Every time I hear about a mass shooting or a bombing, I have to force myself to wait to find out whether or not the one involved was part of the New Horizon Cult, or just some other crazed white supremacist with a racist, misogynistic agenda. There are too damn many of those at large.”

“What if I told you, you aren’t alone?”

“I wouldn’t believe you, and my life would go on just as it is. I avoid the subway at rush hour and crowded bars and restaurants. I do walk in the park near my home, but I pick my times, and I go to mass at Our Lady of Pompeii Church each Sunday. I may be antsy, but Maggie, there are a lot of scared people in this country, people choosing to homeschool their kids, avoid crowds, and arm themselves. When you have more mass shootings than you’ve had days in a year, it’s expected. It doesn’t make me crazy.” “When did I ever say you were crazy?” Maggie asked, her eyes narrowed. “You most certainly are not. The truth of the matter is, you’re right. There’s nothing wrong with healthy concern. This isn’t the country I grew up in; it certainly isn’t the one I want my grandson to.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Merry Christmas and welcome to the holiday week posting of Tuesday Tales. While celebrations will be different this year, may those of you who celebrate find joy, peace, and safety during this 2020 Christmas season.

There’s no doubt 2020 has been a challenging year and a difficult one. So many people have died and been sickened by the coronavirus. We may have a vaccine now, but it will take months to distribute it, and unless at least 70% of thew world’s population is vaccinated, COVID 19 will continue to destroy and devastate lives.

This week is one for thinking back on Christmases past, the ones we took for granted. The parties we attended, the meals we shared with family and friends, the game nights we enjoyed, all things lacking from this year’s celebration. But we must be optimistic, and in the new reality, I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Covid test negative New Year.

This week’s word prompt is HOLIDAY. I’m continuing with The White Dahlia, but have skipped ahead to Beth’s visit to the doctor to be recertified for full duty. Enjoy!

“Well, no, but I did have my vest and there were two armed officers on the scene when I got there. I’m not suicidal or homicidal, or whatever other ‘cidal’ you want to label me. I calculated the odds. If the body was beside the dumpster and there were people at the scene, then there couldn’t be an active shooter in play. Dispatch misunderstood the word ‘dolly’ as did I. If that had been a child…” She didn’t finish the sentence; she couldn’t.

“Relax, Beth, I’m not criticizing. You did what had to be done. If you considered all the things you said you did, then I’m satisfied you made an informed rather than an emotional decision. Had you gone in guns blazing again, with no regard to your personal safety, that would’ve been another matter. How are you sleeping?”

“A little better,” she prevaricated. “I’m still not used to sleeping during the day. It goes against the grain. I want to get up and do things like laundry and housework. The nightmares aren’t as bad.” She chuckled. “Cuddling with Luke helps, I think.”

Maggie laughed. “At your age, you should be cuddling with someone other than a cat. Are you dating again?” She indicated the newspaper.

“Him?” Beth squeaked. “God, no. I’ve gone out for coffee a couple of times with friends of Marissa’s, and I went out to dinner last weekend when I was in Boston visiting my parents. I just haven’t found the right person, and working the night shift like I do doesn’t help.” Now, if Al Foster asked her to go out for coffee, she just might accept.

“What about crowds? Still doing all of your shopping online?”

“It’s the modern thing to do.” Beth shrugged. “I get some great deals.” She stuck out her foot, displaying the sandal. “I picked up these beauties for a song.”

“Nice, but that’s not the answer I’m looking for,” the doctor parried.

Standing, Beth paced the office, rubbing her hands together, her perseveration a sign of the stress tearing at her once more.

“If what you really want to know is if I’m ready to attend a rock concert or the tree lighting at Rockefeller Center come the holidays, then the answer is no. I may never be able to do those, not as long as a single person who was part of the Prophet’s entourage remains at large.”

That’s it. Have aa wonderful a Christmas as you can. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

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Welcome to this week’s Tuesday tales, the blog where writers share their work in progress with you.

So, Christmas is 10 days away. Things will be different this year, but it we all play our part, they’ll improve in 2021.

Today’ post in based on the word prompt BRAZEN. I’m continuing with The White Dahlia.

Retracing her steps, Beth followed her superior into the office they shared and sat in front of the desk instead of behind it, waiting for the dressing down she probably deserved.

“Whatever you’ve got to say to me, save it for Monday, please?” Beth begged, exhaling heavily. “I’m exhausted and have to meet with Dr. Mitchell this afternoon. Looking like I do now, she’ll never let me get back to active duty.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t. What the hell were you thinking? Did you know someone was filming you while you talked to Ogden? I didn’t see Holmes. Where was she? Effing werewolves in Brownsville?”

Beth bristled. “Erica wasn’t there,” she confessed brazenly. How much worse could things get? “I let her leave early since she wasn’t feeling well. For the record, I didn’t give Jack a story if that’s what you’re implying. I’m not his source. I would sooner rot in hell than give that bastard even the time of day. He overheard one of the trashmen and then embroidered from there.”

Ned Harris examined her closely and then nodded. “I should suspend you for going to a crime scene alone, especially without a weapon since yours are still in the armory. I repeat. What the hell were you thinking?”

“That I had no one to send and someone had to go,” she admitted. “As it turned out, I did the right thing. I broke the rules, yes, but Ned, what I saw is way worse than whatever Jack may have printed.”

He frowned. “Just how half-baked are his allegations?

She shrugged. “It depends what you mean by half-baked. Is there a monster on the loose in Brooklyn? Most definitely, but I doubt the son of a bitch is a werewolf or any other supernatural being.”

“Okay. Start at the beginning. Tell me about what you found in Brownsville.”

“It’s all in my report,” she stammered. “I sent it to you a few minutes ago. You should have it by now.”

“I don’t care what you sent me, Beth. I’m sure it’s thorough, but I know it’ll lack the emotional details I need to keep the Chief of Detectives from roasting you alive. I want to know what you saw, and why I was sandbagged by an army of reporters on my way in.”

She nodded slowly, knew what he meant, and wished she didn’t. It had happened every damn day in Boston. Thankfully, she hadn’t been the one to face the Press.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.