As Halloween Ends

As Halloween ends for another year our oldest, Karl, will be depressed. Halloween is his favorite time of the year. He absolutely just loves it. Like his misguided worship of the New York Yankees, we tolerate it secure in the knowledge that this too is just not our fault.

Love you, Karl.

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: It's Halloween, so . . . .

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: It's Halloween, so . . . .: Amazon.com: Carnival of Death (Dead Man #9) eBook: Bill Crider, Lee Goldberg, William Rabkin: Kindle Store : Matt Cahill is working security...

Halloween 2013--One Final Comic

Considering how things go, I don't know why we don't see more of this.....

Halloween 2013-- One More Comic Ttreat

Another one I found funny....

Halloween 2013--- Another Comic Treat

At least I think so as I have a lot of trouble with these dang things.........

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Free for Kindle for One Day Only

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Free for Kindle for One Day Only: Amazon.com: Roman Dalton - Werewolf PI eBook: Paul D. Brazill: Kindle Store : When a full moon fills the night sky, Private Investigator Rom...

Death by Killing: Out Now: Manifesto Destination by Alec Cizak

Death by Killing: Out Now: Manifesto Destination by Alec Cizak: Full Dark City Press has given a home to ADR founding editor Alec Cizak's wonderful novella, a strange blend of Philip K. Dick and Raym...

Halloween 2013-- Another Comic

Another comic for today.....

Halloween 2013

I am not a fan of Halloween at all. But, in the spirit of the day I will be posting comics I find funny that are Halloween related during the course of the day. First up today is this one....

Time to Fly

as the clock has struck midnight and it is Halloween.......

At the Scene of the Crime: Devil

At the Scene of the Crime: Devil: Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit smoking. —Steve McCroskey, Airplane! After a particularly bad murder investigation (allude...

Back Home

Slight improvement on one deal so they are leaving everything alone. A week from Friday we do it again.

Blood Work

This hump day finds us heading down to Texas Oncology at Medical City Dallas for blood work on Sandi. As far as we know, she is doing okay. The blood work determines all. Hopefully the numbers will come up better than they did last week.

And just maybe her beloved Red Sox will win it all tonight.

Stupefying Stories: SHOWCASE #8 RELEASED!

Stupefying Stories: SHOWCASE #8 RELEASED!: For the latest news, latest download links, and best of all, FREE STORIES, check out our companion webzine, STUPEFYING STORIES SHOWCASE , re...

The Education of a Pulp Writer: The Little Boy Inside and Other Stories

The Education of a Pulp Writer: The Little Boy Inside and Other Stories: "The Little Boy Inside" was one of the premium short stories published at BEAT to a PULP. A toppermost of the pulpermost to slig...

The Education of a Pulp Writer: The Little Boy Inside and Other Stories

The Education of a Pulp Writer: The Little Boy Inside and Other Stories: "The Little Boy Inside" was one of the premium short stories published at BEAT to a PULP. A toppermost of the pulpermost to slig...

What Sells E-Books Today?

That is the question a lot of self published authors, including myself, are asking. We know the gold rush is over and now it is harder than ever to move our books. Dave Zeltserman has a few thoughts here in a piece well worth reading.

One thing really jumped out at me since I do so many reviews. He writes:

"Online book reviews: Web reviews seldom sell more than a couple of books--print or ebook the same."

While I don't think it is the responsibility of a reviewer to sell books (or stop somebody from buying a book either) it is rather depressing to have what amounts to be so little impact.

Dallas MWA-- Reminder - Get Prosecuted on Saturday, Nov 2

As received earlier today:

November 2 - Greg Miller, former Tarrant County Assistant District Attorney

Greg Miller was an Assistant Criminal District Attorney for Tarrant County from 1987 until 2013.  At the time of his retirement, he was one of the Deputy Chief Prosecutors for the Felony Division, a position he held since 1997.  In addition to supervising felony court teams, he also supervised the Homicide-Gang Unit.

             He received his BBA from TCU in 1976; his Master’s Degree in Criminal Justice from UTA in 1984; and his law degree from SMU in 1987.  He has been Board Certified in Criminal Law by the Texas Board of Legal Specialization since 1993.

             Prior to joining the District Attorney’s Office, he was a Fort Worth Police Officer.  Among his assignments he was a Crime Scene Investigator and Homicide Detective.

             He frequently lectures at Tarrant County Law Enforcement agencies on such topics as arrest, search & seizure, confession law, and interviewing techniques.

             He is now on the staff of Behavioral Measures & Forensic Services as a Polygraph Examiner. 

The Dallas MWASW group meets the first Saturday of each month at Texas Land & Cattle, 812 South Central Expressway, Richardson, TX 75080. Meeting time is 9:30 a.m.-11:30 a.m.There is a $5.00 door fee, cash only. All who attend are invited to remain for lunch. Contact info: james@gaskin.com

--
James E. Gaskin
http://www.gaskin.com
Writer / Consultant / Speaker
Latest book: Texas Hysterical Society

Write More? Maybe Not

A lot of self published authors these days make a case that one has to write several books a year to gain increasing sales. But, this idea of "write more" may be fatally flawed. Author Libby Fischer Hellman (one heck of an author you should be reading by the way) explains why that isn't the answer in her post here titled "New Rule: No more Binge Publishing."

Flat Out Funny

For the writers among us, I stumbled across this piece doing a critique on the Bible. You can read it here titled "God's Workshop" by Sam Apple. Funny stuff.

Sandi Crafting Christmas Vests

Yesterday afternoon before the storms came rocking the neighborhood Sandi was out on our back porch working on another project.

I am sure these will be up for sale on her iOffer store here pretty soon.

 No doubt she will update her blog here when they are available.

CrimeFictionWriter: Guest post

CrimeFictionWriter: Guest post: Today I take John Floyd's spot at SleuthSayers, a group blog by and for mystery writers, when I write about how to "Market-First, W...

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Free for Kindle for a Limited Time

 Nice to see this making the rounds elsewhere....
Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Free for Kindle for a Limited Time: Amazon.com: RESCUE eBook: Earl Staggs: Kindle Store : A Mini Novel in 5 Chapters (9500 Words). Tall Chambers leads a secretive agency which ...

Possible Bad Food

Lots of places on the updated list regarding Reser's Fine Foods, Inc. as well as a lot more products. Go to the FDA webiste and check the list. Stay safe.

http://www.fda.gov/Safety/Recalls/ucm372345.htm?source=govdelivery&utm_medium=email&utm_source=govdelivery

Cowboys

Cowboys did it again up in Detroit. Makes their record 4-4 which is not getting the job done.

Somebody is going to have to take Dez Bryant to the side and explain to him how to act. Despicable behavior on the sidelines today. I have a feeling  what happened today with Dez and his sideline temper tantrums will be a lingering issue.

Sample Sunday: Excerpt from "Bowling With The Big Dogs" by Tim Matson

Back during the summer I was asked to take a look at Tim Matson's Bowling With The Big Dogs and provide some editorial guidance. Not that it really needed much input from me. I enjoyed the book immensely. I simply LOVED this book. It ranks up there in my top five of the year as I think it is an incredible read. I offered to Tim that if he would like to submit something for Sample Sunday I would be glad to run it. He agreed and sent the long sample below which follows the Amazon Synopsis…..

Drinker. Smoker. Detective. Smartass. Psychic?
The often sarcastic Moon Mullen isn't your average overweight detective who drinks to forget the past. Not that Moon Mullen doesn't drink--- he does and is very good at it. But, instead of drinking to forget, Moon Mullen does it to control the voices in his head because he hears thoughts and emotions. Being psychic has advantages in the detective business, but Moon Mullen's gift can be a curse as it is anything but consistent. A warped sense of humor allows him to survive, and a drive to catch a serial killer threatening his small Minnesota town gives Moon a chance to bring justice to the people in his past.

Chapter One

Now

The guy with the shaker was beginning to make my teeth itch.

While I’m sure that his parents had been ecstatic when he showed some interest in music as a child, they probably didn’t envision this in their wildest nightmares. He was holding it in both of his hands, caressing it and shaking it like he had a secret he was just dying to tell. From the looks of him, I think I knew what it was, but wish I didn’t.

The bar had a typically backwoods Minnesotan name: The Deer Head Bar. This was owing to the stuffed Monster Buck head that was mounted on an age-darkened plaque that looked almost petrified. The story that goes along with the taxidermist’s work was equally old, and had magnified to epic proportions. Apparently the old guy that shot the Monster Buck just grazed a slug along the deer’s head, stunning it, and he was so afraid that it was going to get away that he ran across the fifty yards that separated them, jumped on his back, and stabbed him with his hunting knife, somehow finding the massive heart. The scar on the head of the buck was still visible, so I guess it was worth talking about. When I first moved here, I innocently asked, “Why didn’t he just load another slug in his shotgun and blow his brains out?” Obviously I’m not the hunter type, because the sneers and gasps from the crowd nearly blew my head off.

“His gun must have jammed! And besides which, you asshole, he had to save the fucking rack!”

Didn’t make any sense to me, but I don’t get off on blowing woodland creatures away. When I have a craving for meat, I’ll get it from the butcher, where I’m sure it would have said “moo” a few times before it meets its demise. In any case, I found out later that the story of Roger the Monster Buck was somewhat less than true. What really happened was that the hunter was driving back home after a heavy night of drinking, hit the deer with his rusted Ford Escort and somehow managed to rope it on what was left of the car’s roof. He then hid it in his barn for two days until Deer Opener, the holiest of holy days, and brought it out to the accolades of his peers. Not as Tarzan-like as the first tale, but much more believable.

The bar itself was typical in its Midwestern style. Along with Roger the Monster Buck, the place had the usual assortment of neon signs advertising beer and liquor, a long bar with a brass rail on the bottom to rest your feet, and several long-legged stools with stools around them so you could eat your greasy bar food and wash it down with the beverage of your choice in comfort. The bar was shaped like a boxcar, long and thin, with a flyspecked picture window in the front overlooking the main street through town, and bathrooms in the back, each marked, appropriately, Bucks and Does. I knew enough about animals that I didn’t screw that up. I also didn’t ask how the monster buck got the name Roger. Sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.

It was well enough into the evening that the Twins were playing on the nicotine-smeared television, Radke on the mound, and the sounds of the game were interrupted by the reverberations of heavy feet clomping over the dirty carpet. A herd of plus-sized women were stampeding in, followed by a short, thin guy holding a shaker.

Oh yeah, remember him?

The women all crowded around the karaoke machine, flipping switches and creating feedback from the microphone, getting giggles from all of them. As I listened, I figured out they were all on vacation, tired of the streets and bars of Minneapolis, wanting to go native out here in the sticks. All of them were wearing Doc Martins, and all of them had plaid shirts and blue jeans on. All of them also had multiple earrings, and most of them had earrings implanted in places that would not be considered anywhere near an ear. The leader of the flock stood on the small stage and began to sing My Guy with her tongue so far in her cheek that she could tuck it in her back pocket. The unfortunate pocket was sitting on an ass that was slightly smaller than the city of Duluth, without the benefit of the lake breeze.

The music, and I use the term loosely, all but drowned out the announcers of the ball game, but I watched anyway, trying to figure out how many hits Radke would give up in the first inning. A guy a few stools down from me was muttering, “He’s the ace? Christ! He’s given up four hits and there’s only one out!”

I didn’t know why I was putting up with these fingernails across a mental blackboard. I just stopped up to buy lottery tickets for Saturday’s drawing. Twenty-eight million bucks, and I don’t mean Rogers. Enough money that all of this crap would be a distant memory. But when I asked for my tickets, the thirst for a Seven and Seven came on me like a teenager finding out that it doesn’t grow hair on your palms like Mom always warned. And now the little flashes were growing inside my head, and that usually didn’t start until I’ve drank five or six, not the two that had already found their way down my throat.

The bar owner, Steve, walked by with a “Howza boy?”, but with the prices in this place it should have been “Howza credit rating?” I don’t really begrudge him the price of the drinks; everybody has to make a buck. He’s also a friend of mine, and has carried tabs for me when I’m a little short. He’s also driven me home when I’ve had a few too many more times than I can count; one perk of spending a ton of money in the same bar. Steve is as big as I am, six foot and a bit and about 230 pounds, but his waist has remained at about 33 while mine blossomed to 40. He was a high school football star, but blew out his knee before his senior year. He glossed over his regret by saying that it gave him more time to chase women and drink beer. His sandy colored hair was chopped Marine Corp style, and he has one of those Fu Manchu mustaches that went out of style about twenty years ago. I smiled at him, and saluted the haircut. Semper Fi, baby!

The sound of a cat being skewered on top of the karaoke machine was beginning to overpower the ballgame and my thoughts of how much money I was wasting in this place, so I turned back to our lovely gender-bending star as she started on her rendition of that timeless classic, You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings, the rest of them acting like groupies, their eyes glistening. The guy with the shaker was another groupie, and he had the amazing foresight to bring his own instrument…yeah, right…to this musical slaughter. Copious amounts of hair gel were slathered on his black locks; spiking it up, giving the impression of an instrument of torture I remembered from a PBS special on the Spanish Inquisition. But I don’t think those nasty Catholics bleached the tips a platinum blonde. Long silver teardrop earrings with rhinestones glued to them hung from both of his small, flat ears, and sparkled when he shook his head. And while he didn’t quite keep the beat, he did manage to giggle convulsively at the end of each song, and squeak out, “Wow! That was so good! You are so cool!” His voice sounded like a cross between South Park’s Eric Cartman and Truman Capote. The high, effeminate giggle was a good match for the cold sore on the side of his mouth that stuck out like Mama Cass at a Bulimics-R-Us convention.

Our shining star started to sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot in a style that mimicked William Shatner…For God’s sake Scotty, beam me the fuck up!...and the groupies, as if on cue, put their arms around each other and began rocking back and forth. One even sparked her lighter, tears glowing in her eyes.

Oh brother.

I didn’t know there was a part for a shaker, but our friend had access to musical information that others didn’t. “Swing low…shaakashaaka…sweet chariot…shaakashaakashake…comin’ for to carry…shakeshakerattleshake…me hoooooome…rattlerattleshake…”

Apparently cats do have nine lives, because this one was being tortured again. Not skewered this time. Maybe a blowtorch? And never a spear handy when you need one. I started to laugh out loud; I couldn’t help myself. They were so…awful. As I looked up, wiping the tears from my eyes, I noticed the glares from the moo camp. It reminded me how out of place an overweight, white heterosexual male laughing at a bar full of overweight butch women and a guy with what looked like radiation poisoning on the side of his mouth can be. Not to mention that poor cat that was being killed repeatedly in the persona of karaoke. If looks could kill, like the man says, they would all be doing 25 to life.

I have nothing against gay people or transgender, or whatever other acronym you happen to be. It seems to me that the world is a harsh place, and finding someone you can love is a rare and wonderful thing, and if it happens to be your nature, then you have the right to be just as miserable as every straight person. Get married. Find out what a thrill a minute that is. But bad talent filled with pretension? That, my friends, opens you up to all sorts of justifiable smart-ass comments and outright laughter, in my book.

My gaze was drawn back to the television as my erstwhile bar mate hollered out that Radke actually struck someone out.

“In the first inning! Unfucking believable!”

A grin spread across my face. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all, and considering how shitty my life was as of late, it would be a nice change. But, as usual, it wasn’t to be.

The short hairs on the back of my neck were beginning to stand up, and a wave of…gross…started to bounce around the inside of my head. A movement caught my eye, and as I looked over at the herpes-inflamed rhythm dork for my All-American Girl Band, my already twisted brain didn’t quite comprehend what I saw.

He was still sitting there, but something wasn’t right. The irritating shaker thing was on the bar, not in his greasy hands, as it was before. And something else.

Oh. I see. His head is gone.

The body was still kind of slumped on the bar stool, the fingers in the right hand twitching slightly, and the blood from where his head used to be was beginning to spray across the bar, splattering bottles and glasses as his heart kept pumping.

Now, mind you, in the split second I saw I noticed this, I came up with the response that usually pops in my head when I have been drinking: You’ve finally done it and gone absolutely bat-shit crazy. Where’s Elvis? He’s around somewhere…

The next glance confirmed two things: I wasn’t crazy and the vibes I was feeling weren’t false.

But there was a guy wearing, of all things, bib overalls and a long-sleeved flannel shirt with red and black stripes. He had it buttoned to the top, with a black turtleneck peeking up to his jaw line. The trouble was that it wasn’t his jaw line.

It was Richard Nixon’s.

And then the screaming started.

Tim Matson ©2013

By the way, the book is FREE through Tuesday at Amazon.

Lesa's latest Contest

As posted elsewhere.....

This week, I'm giving away a copy of Spencer Quinn's latest Chet and Bernie mystery, The Sound and the Furry, and The Cat Sitter's Cradle by Blaize & John Clement. Details available on my blog, http://www.lesasbookcritiques.blogspot.com. Entries from the U.S. only, please.

Lesa

Lesa Holstine

lesa.holstine@gmail.com 

http://www.lesasbookcritiques.blogspot.com

FREE Book Alert--- "RESCUE" by Earl Staggs

I was privileged to see an early version of this and it is good. Get your copy for free while you can....

 

Moments (Tense, Passing, Ordinary...): New Review: The Devil's Bones by Kevin Tipple

Moments (Tense, Passing, Ordinary...): New Review: The Devil's Bones by Kevin Tipple: " Reminiscent in style and tone of his many westerns, The Devil’s Bones is a very complicated mystery that pulls the reader in quickly...

KRL This Week-- JoAnna Carl,Kylie Logan, Jessie Crocket, Christopher Rice, Halloween, short stories, giveaways & more in KRL this week

As posted elsewhere earlier today....

Up this morning in Kings River Life a fun Halloween cat short story by mystery author Elaine Faber http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/the-shopping-bag-a-halloween-cat-short-story/

Also up this morning we review & giveaway a fun group of Penguin food mysteries-"Drizzled With Death" by Jessie Crockett, "Chili Con Carnage": A Chili Cook-Off Mystery By Kylie Logan, "Murder and Marinara": An Italian Kitchen Mystery By Rosie Genova, and "The Chocolate Moose Motive" By JoAnna Carl http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/penguin-fall-food-mysteries/

Also up a review & giveaway of Christopher Rice's new supernatural thriller "The Heavens Rise" along with an interview with Christopher http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/the-heavens-rise-by-christopher-rice/

Halloween season seemed the perfect time to write something about TV vampires including my favorites on "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" all the way to the new "Dracula" TV show--and some of these vampires are detectives http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/vampires-on-tv/

Also up this morning a Halloween mystery short story by Kathy Kingston http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/this-i-know-a-halloween-mystery-short-story/

And a Halloween short story with sort of a mystery twist by Gail Farrelly http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/lights-out-a-halloween-short-story/

Mystery author Eric Mayer shares a fun Halloween blog post with Kings River Life Magazine this morning http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/too-old-to-trick-or-treat/

For those who enjoy mystery combined with the supernatural we have a review and giveaway of Steve Bein's new novel "Year of the Demon" http://kingsriverlife.com/10/26/year-of-the-demon-by-steve-bein/

Lastly, over in KRL Lite we have a review of the latest John Rebus novel by Ian Rankin http://kingsriverlife.blogspot.com/2013/10/standing-in-another-mans-grave-by-ian.html

Happy reading,
Lorie Ham

--

KRL is now selling advertising & we have special discounts for
mystery authors & bookstores! Ask me about it!
Mystery section in Kings River Life http://KingsRiverLife.com

Check out my own blog at http://mysteryratscloset.blogspot.com/

Review: The Devil’s Bones by Larry D. Sweazy

Late August of 2004 finds Deputy Jordan McManus in the bed of a former girlfriend early one morning while drought grips Dukaine, Indiana. Like the drought that grips the area, McManus is gripped by the past. A past that includes the love of his life, Ginny, who has been married for quite some time and has changed. Whatever they had once, years ago, has been tarnished by time and the fact she has a child and is married to Ed Kirsch. Not known for being mentally stable at the best of times, were he to discover what McManus and Ginny have done the results could be disastrous.

Instead of spending time with Ginny, McManus is supposed to be out patrolling the area. If he had been out doing his job, he might have been out at Longer’s Pond with his boss, Marshal Holister Coggins a little quicker. He might have had more time to secure the scene. He might have been able to examine the small skeleton in the mud a little bit. Maybe if he had been more focused on doing his job, he might have been able to prevent the shooting that took down Holister and wounded him by somebody who laughed like a maniac while doing it.

Moving back and forth from 1985 to late August of 2004, author Larry D. Sweazy weaves a complicated tale of pain, loss, racism, regret, and redemption in The Devil’s Bones. The read shifts in point of view throughout the book as the pieces slowly come together in various mysteries. Each secret has had a damaging ripple effect over the years and has caused numerous events --many of which Deputy Jordan McManus has little knowledge of despite being on the edge of many of them. Relying on his brother nicknamed “Spider,” a tenuous decision at the best of times, McManus works to clear his name and end the current carnage. The shooting of Holister and himself is just the start of a wave of violence that will also uncover the past and answer questions that have haunted the small town for years.

Reminiscent in style and tone of his many westerns, The Devil’s Bones is a very complicated mystery that pulls the reader in quickly and never lets go. Rich in details, characters, and setting, nothing is simple in this read where drought finally exposes all the secrets of the past.

Amazon Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/3UESOeM 

ARC provided by the author way back in October 2011 for my use in an objective review. 

Kevin R. Tipple ©2013

I'm A Voracious Reader : Friday Featured Spotlight ~ Untreed Reads & 4 Myst...

I'm A Voracious Reader : Friday Featured Spotlight ~ Untreed Reads & 4 Myst...: Founded in 2008,  Untreed Reads  is a digital-first publisher and ebook distributor with one of the largest distribution channels in ...

Another Day--Another Memory

The picture below posted to Facebook today by folks at Rocky Mountain Park is of the stunningly beautiful Emerald Lake. Another place Dad and I made it to a few times over the years.

The FFB List

The list for this week is up on Patti's blog here.

Back Home

As this was a cancer doctor and blood work morning. Some of the blood work came back off so medications have been adjusted. We go back Wednesday in the hopes that the blood work will be better. If not, I don't know what happens next. Worry about that if we have to.

FFB Review: "The West End Horror" by Nicholas Meyer---Reviewed by Patrick Ohl

Friday means Friday’s Forgotten Books hosted by Patti Abbott here. After recently reviewing  The Julius Caesar Murder Case by Wallace Irwin Patrick Ohl is back today with his thoughts on THE WEST END HORROR by Nicolas Meyer. Patrick also has the At The Scene Of the Crime blog here so go by there after you read the below review….

It is March 1895 in London and Sherlock Holmes receives a strange visitor at 221B Baker Street. It is a peculiar, arrogant Irishman named George Shaw and he comes to consult Holmes about the murder of theatre critic Jonathan McCarthy. Holmes and Watson accept the case and begin to dig around McCarthy’s personal life, discovering that the man was universally despised in the West End. During their investigations, they run across all sorts of potential suspects, including Oscar Wilde, Bram Stoker, and Sir Arthur Sullivan.

But if only the case had ended there – when another murder occurs, Holmes and Watson discover something absolutely horrendous is at the centre of this case, a secret so black it could unravel the very fabric of British society. In fact, that’s why Watson decided to entitle this case The West End Horror. After being lost to the world for years, it fell into the hands of Nicholas Meyer, who had also edited Watson’s The Seven-Per-Cent Solution. It is unfortunate, then, that this was such a sub-par outing for both Holmes and Watson.

I highly enjoyed Meyer’s first contribution to Sherlockiana, The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, in which he drastically revised the Canon and played all sorts of games with historical figures, especially Sigmund Freud. It was interesting, it was something different, it was fresh. Unfortunately, the same adjectives cannot be applied to The West End Horror: it’s a conventional pastiche, and that’s that. It’s no better and no worse than dozens of other pastiches of its kind. Actually, now that I think of it, it might even be a bit on the worse side.

You see, it boils down to this: Holmes and Watson are idiots. This was a weakness in The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, but because of the book’s other delights as a pastiche, I was able to ignore it. I have no idea if he’s doing it deliberately or not, but it would seem that Nicholas Meyer is simply unable of springing a surprise ending on the reader. Long before Holmes tumbles to the solution, it’s screaming you in the face, especially after the mysterious actions of a police coroner are brought into the plot. They’re really not all that mysterious, in fact it’s rather obvious what the motivation behind these actions was. Not only that, Holmes wastes a lot of time on really obvious red herrings. Simply put, it’s remarkable how much time it took Holmes to figure it out. This case is certainly not among his finest hours.

Although historical figures pop up in The West End Horror, their appearances seem a lot more perfunctory this time around. Half the time we get heavy-handed irony from the author about events that will occur in the near future, such as Oscar Wilde’s infamous tiff with the law, or Sullivan’s death, or Bram Stoker’s authorial efforts. It even steals words attributed to Winston Churchill at one point, adding in a footnote that this dialogue has been “misattributed” to him and it was really Holmes who spoke those words. It’s not as charming or as fun as it all was with Freud, and it doesn’t really add anything new to the Canon.

Overall, I wish I could show more enthusiasm for this book, but I just didn’t enjoy myself like I’d hoped. After the high points of The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, I was expecting something more inventive, more lively, and more original than this book. At the end of the day this is a safe, conventional pastiche that risks nothing and adds nothing notable to the Canon. I can with clear conscience recommend skipping this one.

Patrick Ohl ©2013

The nineteen-year-old Patrick Ohl continues to plot to take over the world when he isn’t writing reviews of books he reads on his blog, At the Scene of the Crime. In his spare time he conducts genetic experiments in his top-secret laboratory, hoping to create a creature as terrifying as the Giant Rat of Sumatra in a bid to take over the world. His hobbies include drinking tea and going outside to do a barbecue in -10°C weather.

Hiking

Years ago when I was a kid, Dad and Mom would frequently pack up the car and trailer, and the four of us would hit the road. We went all over Texas as well as most of the western states seeing the parks and monuments. Almost every year we spent some time on the way to somewhere or on the way back home at Rocky Mountain National Park. Many an hour was spent with my brother as well as my Dad hiking to this lake or that one.

While I was always glad to go I didn't appreciate it anywhere near as much as I should have. The stupidity of youth more than anything as I thought that someday I would be doing the same things with my family. That never happened.

My Dad is gone now and my Mom is not well. I have not been there in years and certainly can't hike there anymore. Much of what I remember has been destroyed by time, floods, fires, and other things. Some places still remain such as Dream Lake. It still is there. The picture below of Dream Lake showcasing the difference over 15 days earlier this month posted to Facebook today by the staff of RMNP brought back strong memories.

Memories are all we have these days. Back here in the real world, Sandi has blood work and a doctor appointment tomorrow morning down at Texas Oncology. Hopefully the news will be as good as it can be these days.....

Mind Slices

I have not plugged this in awhile as I absolutely hate flogging my stuff. I would rather just write---something I seriously need to be doing--- and have things sell themselves. The real world does not work that way. Marketing is not something I enjoy.

A collection of my short fiction some of the tales lean towards the science fiction side, some lean towards mystery, and almost all of them are suspenseful in some way. Most stories also contain more than one genre. You can get it at the below links:

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009OIV346 

Smashwords http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/243655

Barnes and Noble’s NOOK  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mind-slices-kevin-tipple/1113576100?ean=2940044983076

If you have not yet read the book, I hope you take a chance on it.  

Kevin

At the Scene of the Crime: Elementary, My Dear Holmes!

At the Scene of the Crime: Elementary, My Dear Holmes!: This article was originally written for and published in the e-zine Mysterical-E . Now that there is a new issue with a new article, I am re...

QueryTracker Blog: How To Score That Book Review

 A lot of good information here.....
QueryTracker Blog: How To Score That Book Review: If you want people to read your books, you need the get the right individuals to review them. I don’t mean your friends and famil...

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Pimpage: An Occasional Feature in Which I call Att...

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Pimpage: An Occasional Feature in Which I call Att...: I wrote a chapter of this one, but it's highly recommended, anyway. Amazon.com: Wolf Creek: Night of the Assassins eBook: Ford Fargo,...

This Is It!!---Barry's Book Sale

The deadline to order from Barry before he donates his remaining stock is still Saturday, October 26, 2013. Go here to  http://www.barryergangbooksforsale.yolasite.com/ and order while you can.  To those outside the U.S.: remember the weight of a package must be under 4 pounds because Barry doesn't want to fiddle with the customs paperwork. He will still sell you more than 4 pounds' worth of books and ship them in lighter packages days apart.


You may or may not know that Barry has been donating 20 percent of his sales to help us each month. On behalf of the family we very much thank Barry and those of you who have bought books from Barry.


Kevin

Memories

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: New Poem at The 5-2

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: New Poem at The 5-2: The 5-2 | Crime Poetry Weekly, Annual Ebooks - Gerald So, Editor : F.J. Bergmann UNFASTENING A HOOK STUD

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: BEAT to a PULP Rerun in Memory of David King

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: BEAT to a PULP Rerun in Memory of David King: BEAT to a PULP :: Collision :: David King

Sample Sunday: Excerpt from "The Rules" by Mark Troy

This week Texas author Mark Troy shares an excerpt from his new mystery The Rules. The synopsis below is followed by an excerpt from the book:

Ava Rome is a personal protection specialist. She follows three rules: First, a professional never gets into a relationship with her principal; second, a professional never leaves her principal; and, third, a professional never calls attention to herself or her principal.

Ava takes on the job of protecting Paul, the son of a wealthy and powerful man from a country where murder and kidnapping are means of doing business. Paul convinces her he is not like his father and has no wish to continue in the family business.

Paul is a few years younger than Ava and very attractive to women. How attractive becomes apparent when another woman makes an advance on him. The incident draws attention to Ava and Paul, violating her third rule. The incident also forces Ava to recognize that she, herself, is attracted to him. In order not to violate her first rule, she decides she must violate her second rule and leave him. Paul, however, operates under a different set of rules and won't let her leave.

The Rules

by

Mark Troy

Rule Number Three

Paul was not his real name. He could be Paolo or Pablo, or, more likely, something entirely different. A person who wants to assimilate will anglicize his name, but a person who wants to hide will change names completely.

Ava Rome is my real name. I protect people who need to hide.

I met Paul and his father in the house they rented in an exclusive area of Honolulu.

"My father is a wealthy and powerful man in our country, Miss Rome," Paul said. "He has powerful enemies."

They didn't name the country and I'd agreed not to ask. I guessed a South American nation. They spoke either Spanish or Portuguese. Not being a linguist, I wouldn't know which.

Paul spoke good English, lightly accented. Later I learned he had spent most of his life in exclusive private schools, insulated from his father's business.

He sounded better than he looked and he looked incredible. Average height, wavy dark hair, perfect teeth to go with his gorgeous features, and the lithe build of a soccer player. A striker, maybe, a position requiring explosive speed. I figured him about mid-twenties. He wore an open-neck sport shirt and chinos. He rocked the chinos.

You start thinking like that, you should leave.

But I didn't. I was drawn to the gold cross below his throat, framed by the open collar of his shirt. It was small and delicate such as a woman would wear. I wondered if the cross had belonged to a woman in his life. His mother, perhaps. If so, I liked him for it.

I didn't like anything about his father.

"Who are your enemies?" I asked.

Paul translated the question into his own language for his father who dismissed it curtly.

"My father says that is not for you to know."

"If I'm to protect you, I need to know the threats."

"If there's a threat," Paul said.

"You don't believe you're in danger?"

"My father has become more than a little paranoid," Paul said. "Who wouldn't, given the life he lives?" He shrugged and flashed me a sheepish grin. "Between you and me, the danger is mostly in his imagination."

I scanned the lanai. At the ocean end, two men played cards at an umbrella table. A third man leaned against the bar in the living room. A fourth man maintained a watch near the front door, out of my sight. He'd been about to pat me down when Paul intervened. Four men, one type. Dark slacks, white sport shirts, cheap hair cuts. They were bulked up, but not muscled-up. Their handguns printed under their shirts. They'd do a good job against a normal threat, but wouldn't last long against professionals.

They wouldn't last long against me.

"These aren't imaginary thugs," I said. "Paranoia often has a basis in fact."

"The laws in our country are weak and ineffective. To stay in business, my father has to be strong. Murder, kidnapping, these are the means employed by his competitors. My father does not wish it, but it is what one must do."

Mark Troy ©2013

Ava Rome returns in The Splintered Paddle, coming in June 2014

Porch Time With Sandi

From earlier today...

She wasn't happy I was taking her picture again. The steroids continue to help her breathe and grow her hair back. They don't make her a happy camper.....

I'd tripped this morning over the hose from the machine and hit the floor hard (no doubt the neighbors loved that)  so she decided she would use one of her cylinder tanks for travel out on the back porch today.

Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Once Again Texas Leads the Way

 Been a long time since I was out by Gun Barrel City heading to one of my fishing spots.....
Bill Crider's Pop Culture Magazine: Once Again Texas Leads the Way:  Houston Chronicle : Authorities say a man from a Texas town called Gun Barrel City was caught with a loaded revolver in his carry-on bag at...

FFB List

The FFB list for this week is here at GorgeKelley.Org. Go check it out as well as other neat stuff there.

Event: Dallas MWA Meeting - Saturday, November 2, 2012

  From James Gaskin and with his permission.....

November 2 - Craig Miller, former Tarrant County Assistant District Attorney

Greg Miller was an Assistant Criminal District Attorney for Tarrant County from 1987 until 2013.  At the time of his retirement, he was one of the Deputy Chief Prosecutors for the Felony Division, a position he held since 1997.  In addition to supervising felony court teams, he also supervised the Homicide-Gang Unit.

             He received his BBA from TCU in 1976; his Master’s Degree in Criminal Justice from UTA in 1984; and his law degree from SMU in 1987.  He has been Board Certified in Criminal Law by the Texas Board of Legal Specialization since 1993.

             Prior to joining the District Attorney’s Office, he was a Fort Worth Police Officer.  Among his assignments he was a Crime Scene Investigator and Homicide Detective.

             He frequently lectures at Tarrant County Law Enforcement agencies on such topics as arrest, search & seizure, confession law, and interviewing techniques.

             He is now on the staff of Behavioral Measures & Forensic Services as a Polygraph Examiner. 

Location:

The Dallas MWASW group meets the first Saturday of each month at Texas Land & Cattle, 812 South Central Expressway, Richardson, TX 75080. Meeting time is 9:30 a.m.-11:30 a.m.There is a $5.00 door fee, cash only. All who attend are invited to remain for lunch. Contact info: james@gaskin.com

--
James E. Gaskin
http://www.gaskin.com
Writer / Consultant / Speaker
Latest book: Texas Hysterical Society

Review: "The Rules" by Mark Troy

In The Rules Ava Rome is a protection specialist. She keeps her clients alive while doing whatever is necessary to stop the threat. To protect her clients she has to know everything about them up front. The fact that she knows her latest client, “Paul” is lying about his name and possibly other things is not a good sign. The issue with the name could be for good reason. According to the father, a wealthy and powerful businessman most likely from somewhere in South America, the threat against his son is very real and he is willing to pay top dollar for someone of Ava’s skills.

All Ava Rome has to do is attend classes and other functions with Paul while he works on his master’s degree in renewable natural resources. Paul only needs one semester in Hawaii and then he goes back home. Ava will be paid very well for the job with half now and half at the end of the semester if Paul is still alive. All she has to do is keep him alive and not break any of her rules.

Much easier said than done.

Readers familiar with the work of Texas author Mark Troy and specifically the excellent Pilikia Is My Business and other books will recognize Ava Rome as very similar to Private Investigator Val Lyon. Both women are very good at their jobs while dealing with the occasional personal temptation as well as men who don’t take them seriously. While the former can generate internal conflict, the answer to the latter is often a simple hands on demonstration of reality. Ava Rome is not about to forget her gun in the cookie jar at 3 AM and she certainly isn’t about to trust everything she is told.

Featuring plenty of action, interesting characters, and a heroine readers will love, The Rules is a powerful mystery packed into a short story. It also gives readers a glimpse of Ava Rome who will be back next summer in the mystery novel The Splintered Paddle from Five Star Publishing.

The Rules

Mark Troy

http://www.marktroy.net/
Ilium Books

September 2013

ISBN# 978-0-98480813-7    

E-Book

50 Pages (estimated)

$0.99

Material supplied by the author in exchange for my objective review. Tomorrow, here on the blog, you will have the opportunity to read an excerpt from The Rules as part of the Sunday Sample series.

Kevin R. Tipple ©2013