Spotlight: A Heritage of Death by Alexa Padgett

A Heritage of Death
Alexa Padgett
(A Reverend Cici Gurule Mystery, #2)
Publication date: October 23rd 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller

An unconventional pastor. A brutal murder. To solve the case, one reverend will look for help from beyond the grave…

Reverend Cecelia “Cici” Gurule dreams of a bruised and bloodied woman who looks alarmingly like Cici. She’d like to pretend the dream is a nightmare and nothing more, but there are too many coincidences in her waking life to write it off. Like the baby that turns up on her porch–a baby that disappeared weeks before.

Cici and Detective Sam Chastain race to find the woman, but the killer finds her first. As the trail grows cold, Cici’s only chance to solve the mystery before she becomes the next target may be a clue left by her ghostly twin.

A Heritage of Death is the second novel in a compelling female sleuth mystery series for fans of Ruth Ware and Gilly MacMillan. If you like convention-shattering heroines, vivid Southwest settings, and a touch of the paranormal, then you’ll love Alexa Padgett’s twisty mystery.

Buy A Heritage of Death and hold on tight for a white-knuckle thrill ride today!

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—

EXCERPT:

She opened the door that connected to the kitchen to find both her dogs waiting, tails wagging, for her. While she hugged and pet them, she talked about her day.

“Ready for a walk?” she asked.

Strolling through the streets, Cici passed a few of her neighbors and waved. The heat stuck to her skin, coating her in sweat and an unwelcome, oppressive blanket.

She watched Mona frisk around, her plumed tail wagging. Rodolfo stayed close to her side, his pace sedate, his tongue already lolling. Poor boy. Recovering from near-death took time.

She leaned over and pet his ears.

“I’m so thankful you’re still with me,” she said. He turned his face up toward hers, brown eyes sharp, tongue sliding to the back of his mouth as his canine grin spread.

She walked toward the park at the end of the street, planning to let Rodolfo sit by the side of the cottonwoods while she and Mona attempted some fetch. Mona refused to drop the ball once she collected it, instead darting to and fro, and having a delightful doggy game of tag.

Not Cici’s favorite game but Mona lived for it. They transitioned into the park area and Cici grabbed the ball from her pocket.

She threw it just as a thick wave of dizziness slammed her, causing her to shut her eyes. A strange tugging sensation rippled over her, one she’d felt before. Cici shook her head, trying to force the vision out of her mind.

“No. I don’t like that,” she murmured. “Don’t do that to me, Aci. It’s awful.”

Her sister didn’t listen—not that Cici expected her to.

Cici continued to fight, but Anna Carmen tugged at her consciousness. Come. See. You don’t have much time.

“Aci?” Cici asked, her heart aching at the sound of her twin’s voice, even if it was just in her head—in this nightmare. She succumbed to her sister’s voice, desperate for a deeper, a stronger, connection to her twin.

But her sister was gone, and Cici was back in Grace’s head, how she knew this, she couldn’t say. Just that she knew she was Grace Bruin and she was scared.

***

Becky finally appeared. As soon as Cici, no she was Grace . . . .As soon as she, Grace received the text, she forwarded it to Becky. She snuck out of the police building, her heart hurting for Henry, for herself, but she couldn’t let her baby suffer.

“There were lights in the cabin. And an old SUV. I think.” Becky swallowed, eyes wide in the dark. “I think it’s the sheriff.”

Grace’s heart plummeted. “Take Isabel. Get out of here.”

“I can’t leave you here!”

“You don’t have a choice. Please, Becky. Please.”

“Where can I take her?” Becky asked. “There was a Taos police car here earlier. What if all the police are involved?”

“They might be.” Grace bit her lip, tugging Isabel tighter to her chest. “Go to Santa Fe. To Reverend Gurule. She’ll figure it out. What to tell Henry and everything. Yeah. Go to her.”

“No, Gracie. I’m not leaving you here.” Large tears tumbled down Becky’s cheeks. “I’m the one who wanted to look into this. I’m the reason you’re here.”

“We don’t have time to argue,” Grace said, her voice urgent. “He’ll come back soon. He checks in often.”

“Has he . . .” Becky gulped. “Has he hurt you?”

Grace held out her daughter again. “Save her for me,” she said, her throat clogged with emotion.

“I don’t have a car seat.”

“My car does. It’s out there, right? There’s a key under the driver’s side front tire. In one of those little magnetic boxes. Henry made me get one. He was worried about those stories—you know, babies dying in hot cars.”

“Okay.” Becky sniffled.

Grace pulled the sleeping baby closer to her and kissed her daughter’s soft, sweet face. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Grace . . .”

Grace turned her face away. Tears dripped from her quivering chin. “Go!”

Becky picked up the baby and clattered up the stairs. She turned once and looked back, her eyes wide with fear.

Grace almost called her back as the fear of darkness overwhelmed her.

What would he do to her once he realized the baby was gone? That someone else knew his secret?

Grace opened her mouth, about to plead with Becky to take her, too.

Becky disappeared. The wooden doors slammed.

And the wait for the inevitable pain began.

Author Bio:

With a degree in international marketing and a varied career path that includes content management for a web firm, marketing direction for a high-profile sports agency, and a two-year stint with a renowned literary agency, award-winning author Alexa Padgett has returned to her first love: writing fiction.

Alexa spent a good part of her youth traveling. From Budapest to Belize, Calgary to Coober Pedy, she soaked in the myriad smells, sounds, and feels of these gorgeous places, wishing she could live in them all—at least for a while. And she does in her books.

She lives in New Mexico with her husband, children, and Great Pyrenees pup, Ash. When not writing, schlepping, or volunteering, she can be found in her tiny kitchen, channeling her inner Barefoot Contessa.

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Cover Reveal: Sourpuss by Merricat Mulwray

Sourpuss
Merricat Mulwray
Published by: Haigh 38 Press
Publication date: January 20th 2019
Genres: New Adult, Dark Comedy, Contemporary, Satire

Sourpuss is a blistering satire of the depraved and entitled culture that pervades college campuses.

Mallory Wahl loathes the campus party scene . . .

She’s sprinting through her senior year obsessed with winning a spot on the US Olympic track team. But she runs straight into a hurdle in the form of fraternity president Graham Patterson, an intern assigned to help her recover from an injury – one she blames on him.

Once Graham’s therapies begin to work, Mallory pretends to fall in love but traps herself in her own scheme and tailspins deep into his debauched world. When a scandal erupts which threatens to shatter her Olympic dreams once and for all, Mallory must finally face the dark truth she’s been running from since freshman year.

In the style of a ’90s dark comedy flick, Merricat Mulwray’s debut brings an insightful and humorous perspective to the reckless behavior college students perpetually get away with. Mallory, herself a flawed heroine, is backed by a self-serving cast of athletes, party girls, townies, and fraternity brothers so hilariously dark that the book will leave you wondering if anyone ever gets what they deserve.

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Author Bio:

Merricat Mulwray is the collaboration of two sisters. They live in Los Angeles where they hatch plans and develop schemes, sometimes these turn into novels.

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Spotlight: Cowboy Christmas Jubilee by Dylann Crush

Merry Christmas from your new friends in Holiday, Texas:

The most celebratory town in the South!

When Jinx Jacobs's motorcycle breaks down outside Holiday, Texas, the last thing she wants is to get stuck in the cheery little town, especially during the holidays. The whole place has gone Christmas crazy, but all she has to do is stay out from under the mistletoe—and do her best to keep that unnervingly attractive cop off her back.

Single dad and sheriff’s deputy Cash Walker doesn’t have time for romance, and yet something about the tempting loner twists his stomach up tighter than a tangle of tinsel. He may have finally found the missing piece in his life…but with Jinx so determined to avoid putting down roots, convincing her to stay may just take a Christmas miracle.

Excerpt

Charlie couldn’t be talking about Jinx. The last place that woman would fit in was the Rambling Rose, the oldest honky- tonk in Texas. She’d be more at home at one of the raves he’d broken up at the abandoned grain mill in the next town over.

But there she was, commanding the space behind the bar. Teal hair spilled over her shoulders.

Bare shoulders.

A hot- pink Rambling Rose tank top clung to her frame like it had been spray- painted on. The scoop neck dipped low— too low— revealing an appealing glimpse of cleavage.

All the blood drained from his face to his crotch. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered in a black leather jacket that was at least two sizes too big. Now all he could see was skin. Skin covered in ink. Ink with swirls, drawing his gaze over her arms, her collarbone, her chest.

As he stood there staring, silently willing the blood to stop gravitating downward, she looked up. Her eyes locked with his. A flare of surprise flitted across her face, then she looked away.

“Wait. Do you two… Have you met her already?” Charlie squeezed his forearm, her attention bouncing back and forth between him and Jinx.

“Yeah. I ran into her earlier this week. Her bike broke down, and I gave her a lift to Dwight’s.” He faced his sister. “You hired her? What do you even know about her situation? She was evasive when I tried to talk to her. Didn’t want to answer my questions. Could be trouble, Charlie.”

She dismissed his concern with a scowl. “There you go again. Did you try to have a conversation with her, or did you grill her like a cop? You always think the worst about people.” Charlie moved toward the bar. Toward Jinx. “She’s on her way to New Orleans. Just needs to make some money to get her bike fixed up. It’s too bad she’s not planning on sticking around permanently though. She seems to know her way behind the bar, and with Beck spending more and more time on his craft brewery, I could use the help.”

Cash reluctantly followed, moving closer and closer to Jinx with every step.

Jinx looked up, nudging her chin his way. “Hey.”

Charlie twisted to face him, waiting for a response.

“Hi. Uh, looks like you’re working here now.” He tucked his thumbs through his belt loops, rocking back on the heels of his boots.

Jinx reached for a glass from the rack overhead, giving him a good look at the ink covering her triceps. Some sort of quote or something. “What gave it away? The fact that I’m standing behind the bar in a Rambling Rose tank top? Or did you think I sneaked back here to try to steal a beer?”

“Look, I’m in law enforcement. I’m suspicious of everyone.”

“Cash…” Charlie drew his name out while she clamped her hands to her hips. “What did you do to Jinx?”

“Nothing.” That was the truth. He hadn’t done anything to her. Couldn’t blame him for being a little leery of her though. Folks like Jinx didn’t settle in tiny towns in Texas.

“Whatever he did, please forgive him. He takes after the bumpkin side of the family. He’s just not sure what to make of a city girl like yourself.” Charlie whirled around to face Cash. “And you”— she thrust a finger in his face— “you watch your step around here.”

He rolled his eyes, snatched her finger, and flung an arm around her. “Don’t be making idle threats. Jinx and I are just fine. Right?”

Jinx swept a trio of empty mugs off the bar and stacked them in the bin below. “Sure. We’ll be just fine as long as you stay out of my way, ’kay?”

“My pleasure.” He took off his hat, bending into an exaggerated bow, then backed away toward a table to wait for his dinner. Charlie was such a bleeding heart, she’d give a complete stranger the clothes off her back if they looked like they needed them more. He’d have to keep an eye on Jinx. His gut told him she was hiding something, and he’d be damned if he’d let her take advantage of his sister’s hospitality.

The ribs arrived, and he managed to get his fill before the band started. Jinx must have felt his gaze on her. She kept glancing his direction, that swoop of hair falling over her eyes. The guys sitting at the bar seemed to appreciate the new view. The regular bartender, Shep, was good at pulling a beer, but he didn’t provide much in the way of eye candy.

Jinx, on the other hand, had all her assets on full display. The way the good ole boys nudged each other when she bent down to retrieve something behind the bar made his blood heat up a few degrees. Made him want to take off his shirt and throw it over her shoulders. Made him want to punch something.

Jinx looked like the kind of girl who could handle herself. As long as she didn’t cause trouble and kept her hand out of the till, he’d let her bide her time here until she could get her bike fixed up and get out of town. Before he did something he’d regret, he headed out front to make sure the bouncer was actually carding people this week.

The night wore on. The band hardly left the stage. The beer flowed, and the crowd erupted into a few fistfights and borderline brawls, keeping him busy straight through to last call. By the time he made it to the bar for a water, there were only a few die- hard drinkers left.

“How’d your night go?” He leaned against a stool while he filled a plastic cup from the giant cooler of water Charlie kept on the edge of the bar.

Jinx looked up from wiping down the counter. “You talking to me?” She glanced around, obviously giving him a hard time, since no one else was within five feet of them.

“Look, I don’t know what it is about me that’s got your panties twisted into knots— ”

“Chill out, cowboy. There’s nothing about you that’s got my panties or any other part of me in knots. You’re not my type.”

Cash laughed. He might have been rusty, but she sure as hell sounded like she was yanking his chain. Two could play at that game. “Why not? Because I don’t have enough ink covering my torso to reprint the constitution? Or because I’ve never let someone poke my body full of holes?”

She leaned across the bar, close enough that he could look down her shirt if he wanted. Too close. “You might just like some of my holes, cowboy.”

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Spotlight: Recklessly Ever After by Heather Van Fleet

Gavin St. James

After the hell I’ve been through in the Marines—in life—there’s nothing I crave more than routine, stability, peace. Until McKenna Brewer walks into my life.

She’s impulsive, fiery, tempting as hell, and everything I dGavinon’t need. But when she offers me a night of no-strings-attached passion, I can’t resist.

When our night together has unexpected consequences, I can’t help but think this might be the perfect opportunity to show McKenna just how much I want her.

The only problem? She doesn’t do forevers. But forever is exactly what I need with her.

Excerpt

For a split second, I almost let her go, thinking maybe I needed more time to think this through. Plan what to do next and figure shit out.

Yet the thought of doing so was like a razor to the throat—and the absolute last thing I wanted.

Needing her more than air, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “No.”

She met my stare and whispered, “No?”

I shook my head, then I kissed her, harder this time. I expected her to fight me. Push me away and run, but her body instantly relaxed against mine, and we were right back to where we’d been just seconds before. Only this time, things moved faster.

“Need you…” I panted.

Slowly, I pulled back remembering her comment about her breasts. It made sense now why she’d said they were sensitive, but that didn’t stop me from wanting them in my mouth. Wanting to taste them most of all. So, I pulled back and lowered my head, taking my time as I held one of them in my hand. Then with the gentlest of licks, I sucked one of her nipples in between my lips, going at it with gentle laps of my tongue across the tips. She shivered so hard goose bumps danced across her skin, and a soft gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth. I teased and toyed with the ends, using my lips to kiss the peaks, my tongue to taste the edges. I gave her gentle, because she deserved it.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, encouraging me to pull at them a little harder, not too hard, but enough to drag out the low noise in her throat.

Slow, steady kisses led me to the other breast, and I used my finger to trail around the same wet tip I’d just teased. Her hips worked harder over my jeans, and I could feel the change in her body with every touch of my tongue, every lick, every kiss to her breasts.

This was the stuff of movies, the way I held her close. I didn’t know it could be this way, feel this good, and we hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet. Whether that had to do with her being pregnant with my baby, or the simple thought of her not running away, I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was falling hard for the first time in my life, and it didn’t scare me like I’d thought it would. Only encouraged me to take the plunge, completely. Forever.

That thought spurred me into action, and soon I had her flat on her back on the couch. Big, blue eyes blinked up at me, lips parted, breaths panting, cheeks flushed. “You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, having no idea where to start when it came to her body—to her. Fuck, more than anything, I wanted to take my time, savor the moment, but I couldn’t wait either.

I stood and tugged my jeans and boxers off. My cock sprang free, ready, and those same eyes of hers shimmered with heat as she took me in from head to toe, back up and down again.

“I want you, McKenna. All of you. No running. No more fighting this thing between us. Just…” I sighed, dropping to my knees next to her, desperate and pleading like a man on the edge of death begging for one more minute of life. I squeezed my eyes and exhaled fast. “Just please…tell me you want this too.” I gripped the edges of her panties, the lace and silk doing little to steady my shaking hands. I was ready to pull them down, give her everything she’d ever desired. But I needed her consent, that one word. Her yes.

And then it happened.

One smile.

One nod.

Three words I never expected.

“Yes. I’m yours.”

The tightening in my chest released, and I smiled too. I smiled so fucking wide that it hurt. But I didn’t care. Because McKenna actually wanted to be with me.

With. Me.

That was the best fucking moment of my life so far.

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Spotlight: Between a Highlander and a Hard Place by Mary Wine

A fierce Englishwoman on the run.

A Highland Laird who needs a proper wife.

And a desire neither can resist.

Athena Trappes thinks she’s in love…until she discovers the scoundrel only wanted her as his bit on the side. Enraged, she does what any spirited Englishwoman would do: set fire to his belongings, incur his dangerous wrath, and flee—immediately. With nowhere else to turn, she seeks freedom in the wilds of Scotland.

Highland Laird Symon Grant lost his wife years ago, and it’s his duty to find another. Athena is not exactly what the clan has in mind for him, but Symon’s heart burns with unexpected passion for the woman who would risk everything to be free.

Excerpt

May Day was something every man near him was looking forward to. Now that dawn had broken, they were creeping off to peek at the girls. Symon sat up, but his member wasn’t stirring at the idea.

And it damned well should have been.

Which meant he was going toward the woods because he was damned tired of the way his blood felt like it was frozen in his veins.

It was May Day. The girls washed their faces with morning dew with their hair flowing free and naught on but chemises. The only men not stirred by the idea of it all were the ones wearing sackcloth in the monastery.

At last he grinned.

He’d done too many things to be considered for a life of piety.

Too many stolen kisses on summer days.

Ah, but Tara’s had been the sweetest of them all. Shy little kisses that their wedding vows dictated she owed him, and yet he’d enjoyed coaxing them from her.

He moved through the woods, using skills he’d learned to stay alive during raids. Today was an anomaly. A day when McPherson, McTavish, Grants, Robertson, and others dispensed with their feuds in order to indulge in spring festival.

Today, he kept low to the ground and moved carefully in order not to be heard by the women. The game would last only until full light, when skirts and dresses would go back on, but the hair would be left down until sunset.

Of course the fun was catching glimpses of the girls in their chemises.

At last Symon felt his enthusiasm growing. He wasn’t sure if it was the promise of seeing a few well-turned calves or maybe just the idea of being able to sneak closer without being heard.

Not that it mattered. He crouched low, staying in the shadows close to the trees and making sure he was near enough to the river to allow the sound of the water to mask his motions. He pulled his plaid up to cover his head, the muted color of the wool allowing him to blend better with the surroundings.

Other men passed by, drawn by the soft sound of whispers farther away from the river. Symon decided to wait, leaning in so he was pressed against a thick tree trunk.

At first, he thought he imagined her.

While the other women moved deeper into the woods, this one hung back, content by herself.

Her hair was a golden cloud. Like a crown, and she wore it proudly. She was graceful but tall. It drew his attention because he was accustomed to dwarfing the women around him. She reached up, finding new spring leaves that the other girls hadn’t been able to touch, and tipped them so that the dew dripped down on her face. The wind carried her husky laughter to his ears as he felt his lips being split by a grin wider than any he’d felt in a long time.

She was magnificent.

The first rays of the sun showed him the outline of the mounds of her breasts.

Handfuls.

Ones that would fit his hands.

His member stirred. She lowered her head, and their gazes met. Her eyes widened as her lips rounded in surprise. It might have been an hour that they stood there, staring at one another; Symon honestly couldn’t have said. Her eyelids lowered, fluttering against her smooth cheeks.

He reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet.

Something flickered in her eyes as he performed the common courtesy gesture. A hint of trust perhaps. He fought the urge to move closer to her, caught between the need to close the distance between them and the fear that she’d take flight if he moved.

Fear…

He hadn’t worried about a woman’s opinion of him in a very long time.

Something rustled behind them, gaining her attention, and then she took flight. Her long legs carried her swiftly, right out of his sight, as he cursed.

The lad who had startled her stood gap-jawed while she disappeared.

“Was she real?” he asked as he stopped beside Symon.

“I’d no’ be surprised to discover her a forest sprite.” He patted the younger lad on the shoulder. “But ye can be sure I’ll do me best to prove her a mortal woman before the day ends.”

And that was a promise he was going to enjoy making good on.

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Spotlight: One Chance, Fancy by Lani Lynn Vale

Benson Bayou Beauregard is the president of the Bear Bottom Guardians MC, and the grandson of the Sergeant at Arms for the Dixie Wardens MC. He’s a mountain of a man and the warden of a prison, and there’s only one thing that can scare him—being told that he’s the father of a three-year-old little girl.

A three-year-old little girl that has no clue who he is. Hell, he only finds out about the little cherub when a woman from child protective services comes by and rocks his world before leaving the girl in his shocked arms.

Every single thing he thinks he knows goes up in a cloud of smoke.

To make matters worse, the woman that he’s been trying to convince to give him a chance takes one look at the little girl and tells him that he’s just not in the right place to handle both of them.

But Bayou was never one to back down from a challenge.

He can handle a three-year-old girl that acts exactly like him, and he can more than take on the fiery red-head that sets flame to his blood while he’s at it.

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About the Author

Lani Lynn Vale is a USA Today Bestselling Author of over thirty titles. She is married with three children, two dogs, two cats, a donkey, and a couple (a couple also meaning over twenty) chickens.

When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in her favorite chair reading.

Lani is married with three children and lives in the Great State of Texas.

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