Murder Comes Ashore
By Julie Anne Lindsey
Patience Price is just settling into her new life as resident counselor on Chincoteague Island when things take a sudden turn for the worse. A collection of body parts have washed up on shore and suddenly nothing feels safe on the quaint island.
Patience instinctively turns to current crush and FBI special agent Sebastian for help, but former flame Adrian is also on the case, hoping that solving the grisly crime will land him a win in the upcoming mayoral election.
When the body count rises and Patience’s parents are brought in as suspects, Patience is spurred to begin her own investigation. It’s not long before she starts receiving terrifying threats from the killer, and though she’s determined to clear her family’s name, it seems the closer Patience gets to finding answers, the closer she comes to being the killer’s next victim.
78,000 words
Dear Reader,
I know many of you have been waiting for the next installment of New York Times bestselling author Marie Force’s thrilling romantic suspense series. Fatal Jeopardy is finally here, and Nick and Sam are as good as ever!
But that’s not all the great storytelling we have in store for you with the March releases. This month, we introduce debut author Matt Sheehan and a book that had the Carina Press acquisitions team in hysterics. Be sure to check out Helmut Saves the World, in which there’s magic, fistfights and one-liners with the best, most handsome and, of course, humble detective Helmut Haase and his apathetic sidekick Shamus O’Sheagan.
If you’ve been longing for a great historical romance, we’ve got two this month. Juliana Ross finishes up her erotic Improper trilogy. In Improper Proposals, a lonely young widow learns to live—and love—again as she and her ambitious publisher, the most captivating man she has ever met, work on a forbidden guide to sexual pleasure. It’s An Heir of Uncertainty by Alyssa Everett and it’s also the answer to Colonel Win Vaughan’s prayers when he learns he’s the heir to the newly deceased Earl of Radbourne—but the beginning of a deadly mystery when he arrives to claim his inheritance, only to discover that the earl’s lovely widow is carrying a child who could displace him.
If you’re looking for something hot, with an unusual hero, Solace Ames releases erotic romance The Submission Gift this month. A young husband offers his wife an unusual gift—to fulfill a fantasy she’d always set aside. But what starts out as a onetime session becomes something precious shared between three—one of them a male escort. Solace Ames brings something new to this story and if you love erotic romance, you’ll want to check this out.
Also in the hot category is Up in Knots by Gillian Archer. Still bruised over the death of her boyfriend two years ago, Kyla Grant is determined to get back into the kinky dating scene, and bad-boy top Sawyer is just the man to help her. Joining Gillian, Juliana and Solace in the erotic romance category, Nico Rosso’s Slam Dance with the Devil, from his Demon Rock series, brings entertainment to a new level. Wild rock star Kent Gaol’s dark past goes back even further than private investigator Nona Harris could’ve imagined, and one night onstage surprises them both by slamming her into his supernatural world.
March shapes up to be a good one for erotic romances because Emily Ryan-Davis brings us the follow-up to Ménage on 34th Street, which she coauthored with Elise Logan. In this next installment, Dial M for Ménage, it’s a new year and a new way of life for Katrina Holland, who started 2014 by waking up with two men in her bed. Now, she, Owen and Hunter struggle to define, and redefine, their relationships with one another after the first rush of newness fades.
Paranormal romance author Lorenda Christensen follows up her funny, entertaining Never Deal with Dragons with the next in the series, Dancing with Dragons. If Carol Jenski knows anything, it’s fashion—and it’s in fashion to consort with dragons, even though they’ve coexisted with humans since WWIII. Still, she would never have agreed to take part in a plot against them. Now a dragon lord has called for her head, her boyfriend is MIA and she’s been abandoned in a foreign country.
Stacy Gail’s paranormal romance miniseries, The Earth Angels, comes to an exciting conclusion in Dangerous Angel, where the heroes and heroines from all the previous books combine their efforts to avert a demonic apocalypse. In Kathleen Collins’s Death’s Daughter, Realm Walker Juliana Norris hunts a serial killer targeting Altered children while an enemy from her past closes in.
This month we have two titles in the science-fiction genre. First, join the adventure At Star’s End! A galactic treasure hunter and an astro-archaeologist race across the galaxy in pursuit of the last remaining fragment of da Vinci’s Mona Lisa in this space opera romance from Anna Hackett.
And we’re pleased to welcome T.D. Wilson with his debut, The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace. Set in the mid-twenty-second century, Embrace is the first book of an exciting new space opera series where Earth’s newest warship, the Armstrong, must make contact with fledgling colonies in nearby solar systems amid the threat of an alien attack.
If you’re ready for a cozy mystery to keep you guessing as to whodunit, look no further than Julie Anne Lindsey’s latest release. Most islanders celebrate the reprieve of summer tourism with cider, mums and cocoa, but sharks, birders and a possible serial killer seem intent on ruining autumn for Patience when Murder Comes Ashore.
Anne Marie Becker returns with another suspenseful installment in her romantic suspense series. In Dark Deeds, SSAM security expert Becca Haney is hiding a past that could hurt her ex-lover, NYPD detective Diego Sandoval—but the true threat comes from a “fan” whose conscience urges him to kill.
Coming next month: contemporary romance Taken with You from New York Times bestselling author Shannon Stacey. Also, sports week and six irresistible sports romances!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
To my mom, who taught me to love a good mystery,
and my dad, who taught me to laugh.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
“Gigi and I love these Indian Summer days,” Melinda Crown said as she strolled beside me, keeping an eye on her towheaded toddler in the surf.
My toes sank and twisted in sun-warmed sand with each step along the beach. Glistening white wave breaks added the perfect amount of background noise to seagulls and tugboats bleating in the distance. Life as the only licensed counselor in a tiny island community had its perks. For example, I met clients where they were instead of spending endless hours behind a desk in a stuffy office. Some days my “office” was on the beach where sessions posed as a picnic or a swim.
Moving back to my hometown after the FBI downsized my human resource position had also come with complications. I came home to open the island’s first counseling practice, and that’s what I did. The islanders needed a counselor. No one would admit it, but that didn’t stop me. So, I became Patience Price, Counselor at Large, wandering the island in search of new ways to have casual encounters with “friends” while inconspicuously providing direction and encouragement on the down low.
Melinda’s golden hair flew in the wind, partially anchored with a silk scarf rolled into a headband. The brilliant blue scarf matched her wide, watchful eyes. She smiled at her daughter chasing shells out with the tide and wobbling back to shore on pudgy legs when the waves turned around. Gigi looked like a human sandpiper.
“It must be quiet with only one at home now,” I said.
Melinda had three other children. All boys. All wild. Her kids were good-natured, but island kids knew how to raise hell. It was in our blood.
“Too quiet. The first week after school started, I spent every minute on the floor playing with Gigi or cleaning and organizing something, but the house is only so big. Now what?” Her pleading expression told me this wasn’t rhetorical.
“How about a hobby? In another couple years, Gigi will be gone all day too.”
“What should I do?” Her head moved consistently between watching Gigi chase shells and staring at me for inspiration.
The wind picked up, tossing my ponytail wildly behind me like a kite. I grabbed it with one hand before it could change direction and put an eye out. My coral satin tank puffed and flattened against my chest as we walked in the salty sea air. These warm September days wouldn’t last. They never did. I tilted my chin toward the sun, soaking up the rays while I could.
“You can do anything you want. You’re many things besides a mother. What are your interests? Pick anything. Something just for you. Something not about the kids.”
“All I know are kids.”
“Then you could babysit or teach a mommy-and-me class once a week.”
Her head shook before I finished. “I like my kids, not other people’s kids.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “What did you want to do before you had kids?”
“I wanted to be a reporter before I met John. He proposed and before I knew what hit me, I had three boys on a swing set and Gigi in my arms. Time flies when you’re sleep deprived and covered in creamed peas.”
Wow. I had my own fantasies of being a mother. They all involved a dreamlike screen shot of me cooing into a crib at a contented child. The image was in sepia and a man stood behind me, arms around my waist, staring at me and his child with adoration. There were no peas in this fantasy and everyone seemed well rested and clean.
I cast a glance at the Pink Valentino flip flops dangling from my fingertips, a treat for surviving the attack on my life in July. If facing death didn’t merit these designer beauties, what did? I didn’t want them in wet sand. How would I feel about them splattered with spit up?
“That’s wonderful,” I said. “Not the peas. You could talk to Jim at the Chincoteague Chronicle about having a few articles reviewed. By the time Gigi goes to school, you’d have plenty of experience.”
“What if I started my own paper? A local interest newsletter. I could go to all the local events and report back. I go to those events anyway.”
“Perfect.” I nodded my approval and she fizzed beside me with excitement.
New projects did that to me too. Endless possibilities made me smile.
“Not so far out, Gigi,” Melinda warned. The little princess had grown braver, venturing farther with each retreating wave. Melinda moved down the beach, tracing her daughter’s path. My feet slapped along the wet-packed sand. If we kept this up, we’d finish our session underwater.
The warm water stroked my toes, begging me to dive in. A perfect blue sky reflected over the water, giving it the color photographers loved to capture for postcards. Kayakers raced over the surface in bright nautical striped vessels. I squinted against the sunlight glistening off the waves.
“Gee-goo-gee-bah-bah!” Gigi squealed and stomped her chubby feet, splashing salt and sand on white dimpled thighs. We followed the path her pail etched in the surf.
“I also enjoy baking,” Melinda said. “Starting a cupcake business might be fun. Is that too overdone? Cupcakes are everyone’s thing right now. Maybe popovers instead.”
My tummy grumbled at the mention of personal-sized pastries. Images of frosting and filling danced through my mind like concessions before a movie. I groaned. My super-sexy crush, Sebastian Clark, had moved into the Bed & Breakfast two streets away from my apartment. Downsizing my tushie was at the top of my to-do list. I’d given up my three squares a day at the Tasty Cream in favor of a coffee breakfast at home, a salad and fruit lunch on the go, and then dinner at my parents’ house. Mom’s vegetarian meals were low calorie, no carb and delicious. Sadly, also delicious were her dessert-quality, high-calorie umbrella drinks.
Drinking with my parents. Another strange welcome-home situation. I’d left the island after high school, a few months before my nineteenth birthday, and returned a decade later. Ten years away from home changed everything.
“Not so far, sweetie.” Melinda’s voice startled me back to reality.
Her daughter stuffed a smooth striped rock between her lips and clapped.
“No!” Melinda scooped her up. The rock popped out when Gigi wailed.
“We don’t put things in our mouth.” Melinda produced a water bottle from thin air and rinsed Gigi’s mouth before hugging her as though the rock-in-mouth episode had been a near-death experience. How many rocks had I gnawed on as a child of the beach? Plenty, probably. Peace and harmony with nature was my parents’ ultimate goal, their mantra and theme song. I was almost named Harmony and I never decided if I won or lost when they chose Patience instead. Peace became my middle name. Literally. Really, was there a winner in there anywhere? I sighed and forced my attention back to Melinda and her daughter. They snuggled and smiled into one another’s eyes, the rock already forgotten.
“Bo!” Gigi squealed, pointing to the kayaks.
“Boats.” Melinda kissed her daughter’s chubby cheek. “That’s right, Gigi. Boats.”
I made my way out of the surf and had a seat in the softer, drier, white sand and stretched my legs out before me to admire my dazzling pedicure. The pretty pink toenails with a shimmer topcoat were the work of my best friend, Claire. I wiggled my toes dry in the sun.
Melinda tipped Gigi onto one knee and pulled on the waist band of her itty bitty polka dot bikini for a peek into no man’s land. Whatever she saw pleased her and she set the little girl on her feet. Gigi had no idea how lucky she was that her mother gave her a bathing suit. My parents didn’t think people needed clothes, weather permitting, until they were old enough to ask for them. According to my mother, indecent exposure didn’t count if you weren’t offended.
“I hate her playing near the water with all the shark sightings lately,” Melinda said. “I worry she’ll wander too far out. We could meet at a park, but she loves the ocean. I can’t take away her fun on a what-if.”
“I know what you mean. I haven’t been out there as often as I’d like for the same reason and I don’t swim alone now. I won’t until they figure out what’s going on. It’s been a few days since the last swimmer made a report.” Which was fine by me because
my new swim partner was a former navy SEAL and pure delight in black board shorts. I searched the horizon for him and sighed. He was out there somewhere getting in a morning swim. My limbs itched to join him.
“Could it be the weather? I’ve lived here eight years and never worried about sharks until last month. We’ve had more storms than usual.”
“I was born on the island and this shark issue is new for me. We’ve never had a shark problem before this year. There’s a chance half the sightings are based more on paranoia than fact because not every case has been verified.” If there were sharks lurking nearby, I hoped they’d get themselves turned around and head back out to sea before it was too cold to swim.
“They’re killing the town’s end-of-season tourism income.” The island economy had been hit hard, thanks to the sharks. Some shops counted on the last wave of beachgoer purchases to hold them over till spring. My parents didn’t sell beach gear, but they needed customers like everyone else. They owned and operated the local holistic shop and palm reading enterprise. Dad made custom T-shirts and hemp bracelets. Mom cleaned auras and taught things like feng shui. Their shop sold crystals, tarot cards and other “mystical” things. They were an island staple.
“You’re right. There aren’t many jobs here that don’t rely on tourism.”
Melinda dug into her shoulder bag. “That reminds me. Would you consider a visit to Ander’s school on Career Day? Every kid brings a guest willing to talk to the class. I can’t believe I almost forgot again. His dad can’t take the day off unless it’s life or death and I don’t work.” She sighed. “I need a way to work from home. Maybe I could cater.”
“You’d be a magnificent caterer.” I assumed. Melinda was one of the few women on the island who didn’t pay for our sessions in casseroles or baked goods. She did give me three boxes of Girl Scout cookies from her freezer once when her willpower was low.
“Here you go.” She handed me a flyer with clip art of a man in a suit and tie. The words Career Day stretched across the top. I bit back a comment on the sexist implication of the drawing.
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