Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Short Story Wednesday Review:

From the massive archive….


The elderly Ms. Albert is not being taken seriously by the police or anyone else because she claims to have found a dead body. She is sure the body was of a dead man, and that he had been shot in the stomach. Unfortunately, by the time she left the beach and returned with the police, the body was gone with no sign of anything. She wants Noah to find out what happened to the body.


She certainly seems to have her wits about her and Noah likes her and believes that she believes she really did see a dead body. Thanks to her legendary film producer husband, she does have the money to pay security specialist Noah Milano’s fee which means money isn’t the issue. A rare thing indeed with Noah’s clients. Noah isn’t sure he can really help her nor does he have a really good idea how to proceed as this is not the normal type of case he deals with on a daily basis. Still, she is adamant and something probably happened. He reluctantly begins to dig into the case and before long has an idea or two about what might have happened.


Published in 2012 this is another fast moving Noah Milano tale. Son of a legendary Los Angeles gangster, Noah knows how to work both sides of the street to solve cases. A fast and pleasant read, No Dead Body in Sight: A Noah Milano Short Story by Jochem Vandersteen, packs a couple of surprises along the way. 


No Dead Body in Sight: A Noah Milano Short Story

Jochem Vandersteen


August 2012



18 Pages 


Purchased using funds in my Amazon Associate Account to read and review. 


Kevin R Tipple ©2015, 2021

Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Little Big Crimes Review: Incident at a Diner by Chris Miller

Little Big Crimes: Incident at a Diner, by Chris Miller:  "Incident at a Diner," by Chris Miller, in Dead-End Jobs: A Hitman Anthology, edited by Andy Rausch, All Due Respect, 2021. This...



Bookblog of the Bristol Library: DUKE: Inspector Mislan and The Expressway Murders by Rozlan Mohd Noor

Bookblog of the Bristol Library: DUKE: Inspector Mislan and The Expressway Murders:    Kevin Tipple is an author, reviewer, and blogger, and we are happy to welcome him back to the BPL Bookblog.   Kevin's Corne r is his...

The First Two Pages: “Horse Feathers” by Jeff Cohen

 The First Two Pages: “Horse Feathers” by Jeff Cohen

SleuthSayers: Three Best by Michael Bracken

SleuthSayers: Three Best: Over the years, SleuthSayers have been well represented in The Best American Mystery Stories , as John M. Floyd pointed out when he reviewed...

Monday, September 20, 2021

In Reference To Murder: Media Murder for Monday 9/20/2021

 In Reference To Murder: Media Murder for Monday 9/20/2021

The Rap Sheet: The Passing Parade

 The Rap Sheet: The Passing Parade

Markets and Jobs for Writers for 9/20/2021

 Markets and Jobs for Writers for 9/20/2021

Aubrey Nye Hamilton Reviews: No Simple Death by Valerie Keogh


Valerie Keogh is a Dublin native who now lives in England. She is a former nurse who writes two crime series, the Hudson and Connolly books and the Dublin Murder Mysteries, and stand-alone psychological thrillers.

No Simple Death (Bloodhound Books, 2019) is the first book in what is now called the Dublin Murder Mysteries. Originally it was published as a Garda West novel on Amazon’s independent publishing platform in 2017 under the title That One May Smile. While I was able to find blog reviews of this first version, I found none in any of the usual sources for reviews and I could not find copies for sale.

Sergeant Michael West responds with his partner Detective Peter Andrews and a full scene of the crime team to a call about a violent death in a church cemetery in an upscale Dublin suburb. A nearby resident Edel Johnson reported the grisly discovery. Johnson had come to the attention of the police three months earlier when her husband disappeared. He has not been seen since and the missing persons case has gone cold. Now she’s finding a murdered man she claims not to know. The police are understandably curious about her role in both incidents but before they can question her in more detail, she disappears.

The investigation takes West and Andrews to Cornwall and to Cork, back to Cornwall and finally to Belfast, with some scenic descriptions along the way, where it all comes together in a deviously crafted plot, one of the most original I have seen in a long while.

This is a fine police procedural. Hints of the psychological thrillers that Keogh writes lurk in the background but they do not overshadow the focus on the police investigative process. West is a down-to-earth and likable character, who as a solicitor who decided to seek greater career fulfillment in law enforcement. His partner Andrews is a perfect foil for West’s shortcomings as an investigator. The ever-disappearing Edel Johnson, who was Kelly Johnson in the original version of this book, is distraught at the loss of what she thought was the perfect marriage. West is immediately attracted to her and this interest drives some of his decisions perilously close to a line that professionals ethically cannot cross. This romantic interest was handled realistically, one of the aspects of the plot that I liked. Between the great plot twists and the police investigation and the handling of character interactions, there is a lot to like in this book. Recommended!


·         Publisher:  Bloodhound Books (November 28, 2019)

·         Language:  English

·         Paperback:  308 pages

·         ISBN-10:  1913419207

·         ISBN-13:  978-1913419202

Aubrey Nye Hamilton ©2021

Aubrey Hamilton is a former librarian who works on Federal It projects by day and reads mysteries at night.

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Lesa's Book Critiques: A SHORT BREAK

 Lesa's Book Critiques: A SHORT BREAK

Sample Sunday: MYSTERY AT THE BLUE SEA COTTAGE: A True Story of Murder in San Diego's Jazz Age by James Stewart


Please welcome author James Stewart to the blog today as he tells us all about his new narrative nonfiction book, MYSTERY AT THE BLUE SEA COTTAGE: A True Story of Murder in San Diego's Jazz Age. It is scheduled to be released by Wild Blue Press on October 5th. True unsolved murder of a beautiful Jazz Age dancer who left home one evening to meet a mysterious man and the next day turned up dead on lonely Torrey Pines Beach. The press hyped the case as police uncovered intriguing suspects, Hollywood connections, a clandestine meeting at a beach cottage, and secrets that threatened to ruin the killer.


Set in Jazz Age San Diego against the backdrop of yellow journalism, notorious Hollywood scandals, Prohibition corruption and a lively culture war, Mystery at the Blue Sea Cottage tells the intriguing true story of a beautiful dancer, a playboy actor, and a debonair doctor. In January 1923, Fritzie Mann left home to meet a man whose identity would forever remain a secret. The next morning, the barely clad body of the beautiful and bewitching dancer washed up on lonely Torrey Pines beach, her party dress and possessions strewn about. The scene baffled investigators. Was it suicide, murder, or an accidental drowning? A botched autopsy created more questions than it answered, revealing a scandalous secret and a powerful motive for murder. Journalists in southern California hyped the case, but when Fritzie’s Hollywood connections came to light the investigation shifted to L.A. and the story became a nation-wide sensation. An ambitious District Attorney battled a high-profile L.A. private counsel in the most sensational trial in San Diego’s history. The big question: What happened at the Blue Sea Cottage? 


MYSTERY AT THE BLUE SEA COTTAGE: A True Story of Murder in San Diego's Jazz Age by James Stewart


Prologue – A House Party in Del Mar


On the morning of Monday, January 8, 1923, after performing in Los Angeles for two months, Frieda Mann rode the midnight train home to San Diego dressed like a flapper.

The outfit shocked her mother, Amelia. A party dress of brown silk crepe fringed with rows of copper beads and a brown hat with a tan ostrich feather? Who wears a get-up like that on an overnight train ride? Not her daughter, usually. Frieda said she’d borrowed the outfit from her friend in Long Beach for a house party on Sunday evening. It seemed odd to Amelia. She scolded Frieda for being careless with her friend’s fancy outfit, then put it away and told her to wear her own clothes.

Frieda behaved oddly for the rest of the week, but Amelia saw no hint of melancholy. If anything, the girl acted too cheerful, too much like herself, especially that last day.

“She was joking around the whole day and making happy her sick sister,” Amelia Mann said later in her thick Hungarian accent, “…and she made jokes, take her bath, and was lively—don’t show a thing—nobody can say this girl had something in her heart, because she was happy, and she always was a jolly kid.”

That jolly kid, twenty years old, went by a stage name better suited to her personality and profession: Fritzie. She remained jolly to the end, Amelia insisted, despite what some would claim. Still, something new seemed to be weighing on Fritzie.

What had she been up to in Los Angeles for the past two months? Filling dancing engagements and visiting friends, or so she said. Her visit home was supposed to be short—long enough to break a contract with her employers in San Diego and perhaps tie up some loose ends—then return to L.A. for work and from there on to San Francisco. But maybe she’d been doing something else, like consorting with the wrong kind of people, a danger in the interpretive dance world. Or, more dangerous still, trying to break into Hollywood, again.

Don’t worry, Mother, Fritzie said when Amelia asked her to share her troubles. Everything will work out.

But Amelia did worry, perhaps more than she would have before now that her older daughter, Helen, lay dying in a sanitarium, the consumption killing her by degrees as it had her husband three years before. Fritzie’s cageyness about her plans for Sunday evening bothered Amelia the most. She mentioned the house party more than once but refused to share details.

“Between Del Mar and Los Angeles,” Fritzie said when Amelia asked where the party would be held, which meant nothing—it was a hundred miles between Del Mar and L.A. At other times she answered, “in Del Mar.”

“Tell me the man with who you go,” Amelia said.

“A man from L.A.”

Each time Amelia asked, Fritzie refused to give the man’s name or pretended she didn’t know. She’d never done that before.

There were enough reasons to worry about a young daughter without her keeping secrets. Times had changed in the few years since the Great War and not all in a good way. The shifting gender norms and rambunctious behavior of the younger set—the late-night drinking and dancing, the permissive attitudes towards sex—had come too far and too fast for traditionalists. There were no safeguards anymore. Suitors no longer called on a young woman at her home, where her parents could keep an eye on her; now the man picked her up in his automobile and took her out on a “date,” ostensibly to a restaurant, a moving picture, or a jazz dance. But they might end up at a speakeasy or a hotel.


Amelia had scrutinized Fritzie’s dates as much as any mother would, always asking questions and writing down the man’s name. Some of the men had seemed respectable enough. The soft-spoken Jewish doctor from the Veteran’s hospital, who Fritzie had dated on and off since the previous spring, fit into this category. Fritzie had seemed to care for him, at least before she left for L.A. last November. Was he the house party mystery man? Maybe. The doctor had telephoned her almost every day since she returned home so they must still be seeing one another. But he lived in San Diego, not L.A., and Fritzie would’ve had no reason to hide his identity.


Other suitors had vexed Amelia, one a man Fritzie had dated the previous fall. She had seemed smitten though it hadn’t lasted long—thank God. Supposedly an actor and director, the man never entered the house or stepped onto the porch, just waited on the street in his pretentious Marmon touring car and summoned her with that damn ahooga horn. One morning he’d picked up Fritzie for a drive south of the border to Tijuana. Amelia hadn’t liked the idea one bit—nothing good happened in TJ, a place that teemed with bars and brothels. To size the man up, Amelia had created a pretext; she asked him to drop her off at the Paradise Hills sanitarium, where Helen was being treated at the time, on their way south. Riding in the back seat of the ritzy machine, Amelia had jotted down the man’s physical description, just in case. Was he the mystery man from L.A.? He lived there and worked in the motion picture business, a business Fritzie wanted to join. Hopefully not. Fritzie’s troubles had seemed to start around the time she met him.


Not that Amelia had much control over Fritzie anymore, least of all her dating life and aspirations. Modern young women, the ones they called New Women and flappers, tended to do as they pleased, tradition and consequences be damned. Fritzie had been around more than most women her age anyway, especially for a place like San Diego, a rather provincial city of 80,000. She’d spent her early childhood in Europe, spoke several languages, and danced before large audiences in San Diego, Denver, and L.A. But if Fritzie’s independence and self-assurance gave her certain New Woman sensibilities, no one could call her a flapper—she didn’t smoke cigarettes or hang out in speakeasies or sleep around or do other things flappers did on the big screen. Fritzie danced on stage, not on tables. She was a sensible girl who helped to pay her sister’s medical bills and pursued a career as a dancer on her own. And if interpretive dance had naughty undertones in some quarters, Fritzie considered herself a serious artist and any salaciousness rested in the minds of people who had such thoughts. But she had a twenty-year-old’s overconfidence and naiveté and moved in risky circles, the night world of the cabaret and on the fringes of Hollywood. A young lady could get herself into trouble if she weren’t careful. Her attitude and behavior may have changed; in many ways, things had not.




On Sunday afternoon, January 14, 1923, as she watched her daughter get ready for the house party in Del Mar or wherever she was going, Amelia’s anxiety grew. Was Fritzie really going to a party? She seemed to be getting ready for one, putting on a real flapper outfit. She dolled herself up with makeup and curled her hair and donned her Long Beach friend’s glad rags, as the younger set called their fancy outfits. To the brown hat and dress, she added brown satin shoes and silk stockings. She accentuated the outfit with a necklace of black and white beads, a gold bar pin on her left breast, and a barrette pinning her hair on the left side. She topped it off with an electric blue coat. She packed an overnight bag with a pink satin night shirt and underwear,

makeup, and a sheer peacock blue nightgown with longish sleeves and gray fur trim.


If I’m not home by noon tomorrow, Fritzie assured her mother, I’ll call.


At 5:15 p.m., ten minutes after sunset, Fritzie grabbed her handbag and vanity case. With her usual flippant goodbye wave to her older brother William, she headed out the front door of their tiny rental house on Spruce Street, near the northeast corner of Balboa Park. Amelia, a small woman, walked with her daughter in the cool January twilight under a cloudy sky, past the California Bungalow-styled homes of the modest neighborhood, two blocks to the streetcar stop at 30th and Redwood. On the way, Amelia’s trepidation grew into a premonition. She implored Fritzie to stay home.


“Tell me who is the man who takes you out,” Amelia said.


“He is a man from Los Angeles,” Fritzie said.


“Tell me the name.”


“I don’t know his name.”


“You told me always who you go out with and now you don’t want to tell me.”


Amelia continued to nag but at the trolley stop Fritzie gave her a quick hug and stepped up onto the streetcar. Photographs of Fritzie Mann, most of which show her in an exotic dance costume, reveal a pretty woman with delicate features whose self-assured, vibrant temperament is evident. Her dark brown hair, often tinted auburn by the red hairnets she wore, wasn’t cut in a flapper bob, but she kept it short in line with Jazz Age fashion and the preferred style of the New Woman. Having seen these pictures, it’s easy to imagine her waving goodbye to her mother, confident that she had everything under control. No photographs of Amelia survive, but it’s not hard to imagine her face as she watched the streetcar disappear into the gathering darkness, the trolley pole sparking on the overhead wire: The worried look of a mother who knew or suspected that her youngest child had gotten herself into a fix and feared it was about to end badly.


Fritzie likely caught a south-bound streetcar, the shortest route to downtown. From there the car would’ve rattled down 30th Street on the eastern edge of Balboa Park, zigzagged around the corner of the park through Golden Hill, and then due west along Broadway into downtown. Fritzie had kept the rendezvous point to herself, mentioning only that she was meeting the mystery man downtown. It might’ve been the U.S. Grant Hotel, a gathering place for the younger set in the heart of downtown that Fritzie and her chums frequented. Or the Golden Lion Tavern, another hangout. Or, if the man was coming by train, the Santa Fe depot.

             Twenty minutes later Fritzie called Amelia.


“Mother, that party will not be between Del Mar and Los Angeles,” Fritzie said. “It will be in La Jolla.”


A strange phone call on top of the other strangeness. Did the house party change venues at the last minute? La Jolla was nine miles south of Del Mar, somewhat closer to home. If Fritzie hoped to allay her mother’s fears with this information, it didn’t work.


“You might think you know the place where you are going,” Amelia said. “I don’t. You don’t told me who you go, and I don’t know.”


Don’t worry, Fritzie said. “It is a very quiet place.” 


James Stewart ©2021

James A. Stewart was born in Baton Rouge, LA, and grew up in a small town sixteen miles to the north called Zachary. After graduating from Louisiana State University with a BS in Industrial Technology, he spent twenty-five years on active duty with the U.S. Navy, including a tour as commanding officer of USS MOUNT VERNON (LSD-39). He also holds a BA in English from National University and an MFA in Creative Writing from UC Riverside. He lives with his family in San Diego, CA. Mystery at the Blue Sea Cottage is his first book.

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Lesa's Book Critiques: THE KEENING BY ANNE EMERY

 Lesa's Book Critiques: THE KEENING BY ANNE EMERY

The Rap Sheet: Double Shots of Scottish Pride

 The Rap Sheet: Double Shots of Scottish Pride

KRL This Week Update for 9/18/2021

First off, for those following my blog tour for my book “One of Us” today's stop is at I Read What You Write! There I talk about What My Characters Read Says About Who They Are

Up on KRL this morning a review and giveaway of "What the Cat Dragged In" by Miranda James


And a review and giveaway of "Partners in Lime" by Bree Baker


And a review and giveaway of "Panic Attack" by Dennis Palumbo, along with an interesting interview with Dennis


We also have the latest Queer Mystery Coming Attractions from Matt Lubbers-Moore


For those who prefer to listen to Mysteryrat's Maze Podcast directly on KRL, here is the player for the new ep which features the first chapter of "Murder Under a Blue Moon" by Abigail Keam read by local actor Brianne Vogt Debbas


Up during the week we posted another special midweek guest post, this one by Josh Pachter about the recent mystery anthology he edited "Monkey Business." It is published by Untreed Reads


And another one by thriller author Katie Lattari about the setting of her new book "Dark Things I Adore"


Up on KRL News and Reviews this week we have a review and ebook giveaway of "The Safecracker's Secret" by Sandra Bretting


And a review and ebook giveaway of "One Cat for the Road" by Gin Jones


Happy reading,

Bookblog of the Bristol Library: They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

Bookblog of the Bristol Library: They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera:   Reviewed by Abby How would you react if you received a phone call telling you that were going to die today? The caller does not tell...

SleuthSayers: Ten Years at SS by John Floyd

SleuthSayers: Ten Years at SS:    As you know from my friend  Brian Thornton's post yesterday , we Sayers of Sleuth have been at it for ten years now. None of us who s...

Scott's Take: Behind The Throne: The Indranan War: Book 1 by K. B. Wagers

Behind The Throne: The Indranan War: Book 1 by K. B. Wagers revolves around a former princess who became a gunrunner and now must return home to become the heir and future empress. She never wanted to come back home, but with most of the royal family killed in a series of attacks, it is time for her to return to the role she was born for—ruler of the Indranan Empire. Though, based on the first chapter, she may not live long enough to so as somebody wants to take over and is happy to spill her blood to do so.


This science fiction book set far into the future has Earth references and connections, but Earth is not a focus. Gender politics are reversed and women hold much more power in the society than men. The citizens of the Indranan Empire worship the Hindu gods and are involved in a non-official war with the Saxons. The main character is a sarcastic woman named Hail Bristol who is to be the future Empress. She never wanted the job, but is not about to abandon her people to those who would take her place. She is a complex and emotional character whose instincts tend towards the violent side. Not that there is anything wrong with that as sometimes violence is the answer.


An obvious negative in the book was the fact that despite the main character being a former gunrunner, the author never considered the implications of providing weapons to others and being potentially responsible for what they do with those weapons.  Even though it becomes clear to the reader that the former gunrunner may have inadvertently supplied the weapons that were used to kill her family members, as well as to nearly kill her, this angle is completely ignored. In fact, the author made sure to keep her rather clean for a gunrunner. Allegedly, she never was really bad and never supplied weapons that killed innocents and, though she is very feared by some, she never did much wrong. The idea is that the main character was able to stay relatively in the gray despite being a criminal and never went too far into the black.


Behind The Throne: The Indranan War: Book 1 by K. B. Wagers is a fun, violent, humor packed read with plenty of intrigue and politics throughout. There is a lot of character development and plenty of relationships evolve throughout the novel. It is a rather dark and mature read that includes suicide, various forms of murder, bioweapons, and a number of children are killed quite horribly. Book Two in the series, After The Crown is here from my local library system.

Behind The Throne: The Indranan War: Book 1 

K. B. Wagers

Orbit Books (Hachette Book Group)

August 2016

ISBN# 978-0-316-30860-1

Paperback (also available in audio and eBook formats)

432 Pages (includes a preview of the next book and a two-page author interview) 


My reading copy came from the Central or Downtown Branch of the Dallas Public Library System. 


Scott A. Tipple ©2021

Friday, September 17, 2021



Beneath the Stains of Time: Mystery at Friar's Pardon (1931) by Martin Porlock

Beneath the Stains of Time: Mystery at Friar's Pardon (1931) by Martin Porlock: Philip MacDonald was a British novelist and screen writer who was better known as a writer of thrillers as, even in his more formal detecti...

Sweet Freedom: Mathew Paust, RIP

Sweet Freedom: Mathew Paust, RIP: Matt's Blog:  Crime Time Here's the obit he wrote for himself, as he could see the end, with bladder cancer: Mathew David Paust has...





Patti Abbott: FFB: IN THE MORNING I'LL BE GONE by Adrian McKinty

 Patti Abbott: FFB: IN THE MORNING I'LL BE GONE by Adrian McKinty

FFB Review: Vengeance in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 6) by J. D. Robb

It is 2058 as Vengeance in Death begins and Homicide Lieutenant Eve Dallas is wrapping up her latest case in New York. She thinks she is done for the day and is looking forward to going home to Roarke and a weekend off. That is until the strange phone call comes in on her tele-link. The caller claims to have been blessed by God and therefore quite justifiably killed a sinner. He offers his religious viewpoint of the world, before and after he gives her a riddle to solve for the location of his victim.


It does not take Eve and her assistant, Officer Peabody, long to solve the riddle. Once they arrive on scene, they are smugly assured by the doorman that everything is absolutely fine and that Thomas Brennen is away from his penthouse suite. Not willing to take the guy’s word for anything, Lieutenant Dallas convinces the doorman to take them up to the penthouse. It is clear when the door is opened that death is in the air. They gradually work their way into the suite and soon find a scene of incredible carnage. It might be the worst scene Lieutenant Dallas has ever come across and she has seen quite a few bad scenes.



She is going to see more really bad scenes in the coming hours as she chases an elusive killer in Vengeance in Death. One who clearly is taking the lives of others as he works closer and closer to Roarke. As has happened before in this series, Roarke's past is another problem to work around in the read that is part police procedural, part romantic suspense, and all very complicated.


All the usual caveats apply in this sixth book of the long running series. Head hopping still occurs as do numerous tropes common in the mystery field. At the same time, the reads are enjoyable and pass quickly as readers are reminded that guns are outlawed, but murders still occur in NYC. The result is another entertaining read.


The series to this point and my reviews: 

Naked in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 1) March 2021

Glory in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 2) April 2021

Immortal in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 3) May 2021

Rapture in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 4) June 2021

Ceremony in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 5) July 2021



Vengeance in Death: Eve Dallas Mysteries (Book 6)

J. D. Robb


October 1997


eBook (Available in audio and print formats)

354 Pages


My copy came via the good folks at my branch, Lochwood Library. Scott, once again, made the Libby App work for Dad. 


Kevin R. Tipple ©2021