Sunday, August 19, 2018

Summer McCloud Mysteries by Nikki Broadwell

in Plain Sight
McCloud Book 1
Nikki Broadwell

Paranormal Mystery 

Stephanie Plum?

add ghosts and stir!

is an amateur sleuth with the hots for a cop on the local police
force. And Jerry is on her trail, but not because he wants her

is a suspect in a murder investigation.

Summer dons a wig and sunglasses and disappears, her best friend,
Agnes, is worried--will Summer end up being another

Jerry is seen on the news asking her to turn herself in.

she heed his warning? 

out in this fast-paced sexy and humorous thriller by picking up a
copy now.

to readers: If you are a stickler for police procedures or read a lot
of hard-boiled murder mysteries, this might not be the book for you!


I was sitting on my couch reading when someone rapped on my door. It was
nine o’clock at night and I was getting sleepy, the sound startling me so much
that I nearly knocked over the antique Tiffany lamp in my haste to answer it. I
opened the door and peered into darkness, surprised to see Agnes. She seemed
distraught, her straight dark hair in tangles as though she’d run in a high wind.
“I had to come over to warn you, Summer,” she said breathlessly. “Since you
don’t own a TV I figured you wouldn’t have seen the local news.”
I flung the door wide. “Come in,” I invited, closing it behind her.
Agnes was very pretty with dark eyes always lined with kohl, her lipstick
varying from kiss me red to a deep maroon color. Her hairstyle reminded me of
the roaring twenties with clipped straight bangs that stopped just above her
eyebrows, the rest of her straight dark hair ending neatly at her chin. Her highheeled
boots made her look impossibly tall as she teetered toward the couch.
“Did you run in those?” I asked, pointing to the red ankle-high boots.
Agnes looked distracted as she pulled her heavy sweater over her head and
lowered herself to the couch. “What? Yes, of course I did. Come sit, Summer.
You aren’t going to like this.” She patted the couch next to her.
I stared at her bare arms, fascinated as always by her beautiful tattoos.
Saraswati the Hindu goddess of knowledge, music and creative arts, was
depicted in sinuous and colorful detail on her right arm. On her left forearm
Guanyin, the Chinese goddess of compassion, had been rendered in the
traditional seated position, and above her was a satyr, an oddity that didn’t really
go with the rest of them but was actually my favorite with his goat eyes and
I sat down next to her wondering what could possibly have happened. I
hadn’t heard any sirens and my cell phone hadn’t alerted me to any coming
“Did you have a visitor in your store today, a woman who you’ve never seen
I frowned, going back over my day. “There was one woman. She was kind of
unusual and the book she wanted wasn’t in the database. Why?”
Agnes sat forward, turning toward me with an intense gaze. “Dark hair?
I nodded.
“Her name was Serena Weatherby.”
“Was, as in past tense?”
“She’s dead, Summer.”
“Dead? How?”
“That’s the funny part. No one knows. There wasn’t a mark on her.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because the only clue they could find was the receipt inside the book she
bought from you.”
“I think they’re going to bring you in for questioning.”
“You’ve got be kidding!”
“Jerry was kind enough to warn me.”
Jerry Brady was a man we’d both dated in the past who just happened to be a
homicide detective on the local police force. I stared at her, trying to take in the
situation. “Do they think I had something to do with her death? All I did was sell
her a book!”
“There’s more. One of the poison recipes included in that book was authored
by your mother.”
“What? I’ve never seen that stupid book before. It wasn’t even in the
inventory on the computer. And why would my mother have a recipe to kill
Agnes picked up my crystal paperweight and turned it over in her hands. “It’s
a good thing I went by the station today,” she said, placing the paperweight
down on the side table. “Jerry left a wool scarf at my house ages ago and I
picked today to take it back. Kind of lucky, don’t you think?”
I didn’t pay attention to what she said, my mind on my interactions with
Serena Weatherby. “She mentioned that I looked like my mother.”
The dark window reflected my image back to me as I attempted to collect my
thoughts. I saw two lines appear between my brows. I turned away. My heart
was beating a little too fast and I felt as though I might be holding my breath. “Is
it possible I could be arrested? I don’t have enough money for a lawyer.” My
mind hurtled ahead like a runaway train. A vision of me in handcuffs being
dragged off to jail went through my mind. This was no ordinary imagining, it
was a real vision of my future and I needed to pay attention to it. If I didn’t it, I
was sure it would come to pass.
“I don’t know what they’re planning. Jerry said something about a ‘person of
interest’. I guess that’s what they call a suspect these days. He knew I’d tell you
—maybe he wants you to lay low?”
This was the message I needed. I had to get out of here before they picked
me up. I was meant to solve this. “Agnes, you’re on vacation for a few days,
aren’t you? Could you watch the store?”
Agnes looked startled. “Take over Tarot and Tea? I don’t know…”
“You don’t have to sell, just be there to ring people up. Oh, and someone
needs to feed the animals. And Cutty needs to be walked. You could take him to
your house or maybe you could stay here?” I watched her for a reaction to all
these demands, surprised when she smiled.
“And what, my little amateur detective, are you going to be doing?”
“If I tell you I might have to kill you,” I said, sotto voice, trying to make light
of what I was feeling.
“Shall I say anything to Jerry?”
“I don’t want to get him involved—I’m sure it would compromise his
position if he tried to help me. I have his number if I need it.”
“You’d better get to it. I have a feeling they might come tonight and if not
tonight then early tomorrow. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Where will you go?”
“I know a place where I’ll be safe.” I hugged her and promised to be careful.
After Agnes left, I packed a bag. Before I left I hugged Cutty. Mischief eyed
me from on top of the hutch in the corner of the living room as I headed toward
the back door. “Don’t worry, kitty. I’ll be back soon,” I told her. As I hurried
down the dark street I heard sirens approaching. My fast walk turned into a run.

and Seaweed
McCloud book 2

and Jerry’s romantic weekend takes a dark turn when they discover
the body of a young woman in the surf. 

the local police deny the crime and the newspaper prints nothing,
Jerry and Summer realize they are on their own. But they have no idea
how deep they will have to dig to find out the truth. The murder is
only a thread in a web of lies that extends to the furthest reaches
of political office.

Summer’s visions to be the only clues? Jerry doesn’t think so,
his focus on good old-fashioned detective work, but when he doubts
her psychic abilities the trust between them begins to crumble.

the days pass, Jerry and Summer come to understand that not only
their relationship, but their very lives are in jeopardy. 

and White and Red All Over
McCloud Book 3

terrible school shooting has the entire sleepy town of Ames in an
uproar. Who would do such a thing, and why can’t the witnesses
remember any details about the shooter? 

Summer has a visit from a ghost she’s left wondering...could
someone long dead actually heft an assault rifle? 

with the furor over the murders, Summer is falling for Jerry again,
despite his obvious deranged state of mind. Add to that the upcoming
wedding between Sam and Agnes, and include a smattering of ghosts and
possible psychopaths to the guest list, and you have a recipe for

McCloud Book 4

is in Scotland doing an errand for a ghost. But when she comes face
to face with her distant past her world turns upside down. 

Ross McCloud, a ghost in the Ames graveyard, has sent her on this
fool's errand, his facts confused. And when Summer discovers the
truth she's already in over her head. 

she succumb to the charms of the handsome highlander she can picture
running across the moors in a kilt, or will she pull herself away
before it's too late?

out in this fast-paced romantic tale of love and loss.

Night of the Jaguar
McCloud Book 5

honeymoon without a husband is not so fun.

is beautiful, but without Jerry, Summer's hopes of sunbathing,
margaritas, and rolling around in bed together, are ruined.

it's the dead body in the cenote that clinches it. Jerry is working
on a case that he never mentioned, and Summer is left out-- that is
until she decides to do a little sleuthing herself.

with the help from ghosts and a jaguar Summer is out of her depth.
And when her life is put in in danger it is up to Jerry to save her.
Will he make it in time? 

out by reading this fast-paced supernatural thriller.

graduated with a BA in art and English from Sonoma State University
in California. I've been an avid reader since I first learned how and
a writer from my early teenage years on. I've had several art related
businesses, including greeting cards and more recently a silk
painting business. When I began to write in earnest I put aside the
art, concentrating only on the writing.

traveled a lot over the years, finding inspiration wherever I go.
Scotland holds a special place in my heart, hence the setting for
"The Moonstone". I had to make a 4th trip there to do
research as I was putting the book together!

Guest Post with Nikki Broadwell
Something unique or quirky about me:
I have astral traveled—only once, but it was enough! (terrifying)

Something really interesting that’s happened to me:
I lived in Berlin as a child, during the time the wall between east and west Berlin was going up (my father was army) I ran away and couldn’t seem to get very far because the bridge I went over had a chain link fence in the middle of it! I peddled home after that and no one had even missed me! *sigh* such was my childhood.

Pet peeves:
Facebook groups who won’t answer my questions. Dog owners who yell, kick or harass their dogs. Hunters who kill for the fun of it.

Ten favorite authors or books?
Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, Tolkien, Kurt Vonnegut, Tom Robbins, Steinbeck—Peace Like a River, all of Iris Murdock, The Night Circus (fabulous) Daughter of the Forest series by Juliet Marillier, MJ Rose, Murakami: The Wind-up Bird Chronicle and Kafka on the Shore. C.S. Lewis. Joanne Harris Blackberry Wine.

What inspired me to write these books?
I was working on a serious story about my father and mother and his life in prison camp—it was emotionally exhausting and I began a little fantasy story to relieve my stress using a couple of writing prompt words—three books later I came up for air!

What can we expect from you in the future?
I am keeping up with several series—the 5th in my Summer McCloud ghost mystery series is in progress, I’m considering a 3rd coyote book, (shape shifters) and my time-traveling witch series is just taking off—2 is nearly completed and it leads into a third.

Do you have any side stories about the characters?
I have interviews with the characters from Moonstone. Will be sharing on my blog, on blog at top of page.

What kind of world ruler would you be?
Diplomacy first, good education with low costs, and healthcare for everyone. Jails would still exist but there would be less people in them because of services provided for rehabilitation and education—EPA and environment would be top priorities. Those in the highest income bracket would pay higher taxes to pay for these services for less wealthy individuals.

Describe your writing style.
I write from the seat of my pants—no outlines. This has worked for me through 17 books, the one I’m working on now the first exception.  I usually begin with a sentence that comes to me—like: ‘beware of darkness’. Kind of like a writing prompt. The characters usually take over sometime around page thirty.

What do you do to unwind and relax?
I like to drink wine, I walk with my dog, I do yoga—I also enjoy watching sci-fi and fantasy series on TV and, of course, I love to read!

the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

The Mystery of Flight 2222 by Thomas Neviaser

Mystery of Flight 2222
Thomas Neviaser

Mystery, Suspense

strangers meet while seated together on a long distance air flight.
The more seasoned of the two creates a game to pass the time. They
choose seven passengers and proceed to guess their names, age,
occupation, marital status, and personality. Later, they are informed
of severe mechanical problems disabling the plane, leading to a crash
into the sea. They survive along with only seven other passengers,
incredibly the seven people from the game they had just played. The
subsequent prolonged and horrifying adventure in a raft presents many
obstacles to their survival including sharks, severe weather, death,
hunger, thirst, declining physical and mental health, paranoia, and
pirates of the high seas. Their long awaited rescue from the ravages
of the sea is just the beginning of their trip to Hell and back.

Excerpt 2:

The sun was setting, and a cool breeze had begun to blow. Frank awoke to see Yuto and Soo Mi staring at the sea, then splashing their faces with seawater. Helen’s head was lying in Frank’s
lap, the back of her head blood-caked. He soaked a rag with water and attempted to moisten the blood to remove it. She tried to open her eyes, but the seawater mist had evaporated, and a salty crust
covered her eyelids. Frank dabbed the rag on her eyes gently.
“Thanks. Any signs of…?” Helen whispered.
“No. They’ll be here soon.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Hey, this is the twenty-first century. Technology and all that stuff. They know we’re down. They will search for us,” Frank said authoritatively.
“It’s been quite a while, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, but only a day,” he said, panning the sky. Noticing more water at his feet than just a few minutes ago, he grabbed one of the plastic cups retrieved from the plane and bent over
and bailed water out of his area of the raft and passing it on to Yuto, motioning that he do the same and pass it on. “This will be an ongoing thing unless we can stop it,” he said to Yuto.
The others also seemed to understand.
Feeling a bit refreshed, Frank stood carefully, inspecting the nooks and crannies of the raft hoping to find something new. The tip of a red strap peeked out under Otto. Kneeling down and
crawling to him, Frank pointed down. Otto reacted and rolled to his left, and Frank pulled on the rubbery material attached to the strap. Whatever it was, it was huge and bright red.
“That’s a cover for this raft. This will stop the water from soaking us, and if it rains, it sure will be a Godsend,” Kimberly said softly while replacing the rag on her bloody head.
Frank wondered why she hadn’t offered this information before. He guessed she was injured more than she or he suspected. She, indeed, was acting unusual.
That gash is pretty big. Did she suffer a concussion, too?
The cover was spread out, the edges lying on each passenger’s lap. Each connection on the cover fit raised areas on the top of the sides of the raft, and the cover was soon being attached in an
organized fashion. Once raised by two inflatable poles in the middle and to the sides, window flaps could be lowered to allow the breeze, if any, to ventilate the inside yet keep out the penetrating sun and
exhausting heat. A silent celebration of sips from liter bottles of water followed.
Flairs, a beacon, water, food, a flashlight, and now a cover. Christ, this is incredible. Kate would be proud that we found them. Now, I have to be sure we don’t lose them. We really need food.
“What about food?” Otto asked.
A mind reader, now?
“There’s a two-day supply of food rations in all rafts, uh, and, I think, saltwater desalting kits. I’m getting sort of goofy so let me think here. There is also a little, uh, fishing kit, I think. Yeah,
there is. What else? Uh, a knife somewhere, and, geez, I can’t seem to remember everything.”
“We have some unused platters from last night’s dinner, too—not many of them, mind you. Have to go slow with them just like the water,” Frank said, considering the request spooky,
especially right after he’d thought of food.
“I’m damn hungry. Break one of those suckers open now,” Otto said, raising his voice.
Frank viewed the other’s affirmation of Otto’s request and opened two dinners. The food was devoured in no time. Frank reminded them not to drink too much water, but his pleas were being
ignored, especially by Otto and Homer.
Better get found soon. The water and food will be gone shortly if these fools don’t heed the warnings. Shit, the more that fat bastard drinks, the more the others will drink to keep up.
“Listen up, folks. I’m not kidding. I know you all think we are going to get rescued soon, but what if we were way off course, and they’re searching elsewhere? We have to conserve food and
water for the worst possible scenario.”
No one seemed to hear his voice.
Finally, Helen spoke up. “Listen to the man, you assholes. Stop drinking all the fucking water and eating the food. Before you know it, we’ll be destitute out here. Get real. We’re survivors of
a shitty crash. How often does that happen? Now, we need to rely on each other and get out of this shithole in one piece. Do you jerks want to live or die of stupidity?”
All eyes were upon Helen as she spoke about how cooperation must exist in this floating cosmos. Frank’s pleas had been rejected, but the faces of the others showed understanding,
reasoning, and concern.
Swearing at these idiots got their attention. I’ve told Kate this multiple times. She always scoffed at my justification for cussing. Wait until I tell her this one!
Cussing at times was a serious contention between Kate and Frank. Frank had been brought up with a bunch of boys in the neighborhood, and cursing was the way they made themselves feel
like adults and all grown up. The more you cursed, the more the others thought of you as ‘cool.’ However, Kate was not a fan of it. Her father did a lot of it, and it turned her off and embarrassed her for
as long as she could remember. She loved her father, but his constant repetition of these words deflated his effect as a father figure in her eyes, and she didn’t want that to happen to their children so she
always showed some obvious disappointment when he cursed, often saying, “You don’t want your little girl to grow up cussing, do you?”
But it was so difficult to stop cold turkey. It was as if the cursing was automatic, ingrained, so to speak. The words just blurted out without him thinking, often before he even knew he’d said
them. He thought Helen’s screaming and using the ‘F’ word proved his point. The people who weren’t listening were shocked into listening for sure. Wasn’t that a good thing?
“What’s that in the water?” Irving said, pointing out of his portal in the cover.
Everyone leaned toward him, and the raft shifted, throwing several of them into the middle, crushing some of the dinners. Some continued to try to view what Irving had seen while others
salvaged the food.
“Where?” Maxine asked.
“There,” he said.
“Shit. It’s a fin, a fucking shark’s fin. He’s going to attack. He’s a Great White. Jesus Christ, get us out of here,” shrieked Homer.
“Shut up, Homer. Stop making noise. It will only make him more suspicious. Sharks don’t attack just to attack,” said Irving.
“They do if they are hungry,” Homer blurted.
“Contrary to your stupid beliefs, they don’t, especially rafts and boats,” Irving replied in a sarcastic tone.
“Yeah, I saw Jaws,” Homer said with authority.
“That was Hollywood, not real life. Calm down. Keep quiet. Just watch the thing for now,” Frank suggested.
For the next few hours, they remained fixated on the shark. It flowed through the water effortlessly while the front end searched and the back end guided the head to and fro. Its movements
were repetitive and deliberate, and it certainly was not in a hurry and wasn’t acting agitated. At times, it seemed the shark actually was looking up at the passengers and then glancing down as it turned.
The gray leathery covering of its body was quite mesmerizing, and the dorsal fin was the central point, allowing them to follow it wherever it went. Occasionally, the shark dipped below the water, and
the fin of the tail replaced it, but shortly after that, the dorsal fin reappeared and moved slowly past the raft. There were other sharks nearby, but this one was the closest and for the longest time.
Then, it was gone. They were all gone. Rain in the form of a warm shower began. Frank and Yuto, with the help from Kimberly, fashioned the cover’s top into a funnel to direct the rainwater
into some empty bottles. Others scooped up any extra rainwater they could and drank it. It was considered a blessing from above, for sure. Otto seemed to be a dying animal trying to suck up and
swallow any water near him. He couldn’t use his right hand, but he licked his shirt and pulled it up to his lips with the left hand, all the while jerking his body around to lick the raft’s edge where the
raindrops were so obvious as they hit. Kimberly used a gentler technique, cupping her hands and sipping from the heels of them as water fell onto her fingertips. Others just leaned back with open
mouths, and others placed their hands in a circle around their mouths as funnels.

Dr. Neviaser is a
retired orthopaedic surgeon and author of many medical articles,
papers, presentations, and contributions to medical texts.  He’s
written extensively on shoulder conditions, his specialty. He is
available as a speaker on most orthopaedic conditions.  His
dynamic presentations involve a great deal of audience participation
and personalized attention to attendees.
Dr. Neviaser is
proud of his orthopedic guide book for the lay person, THE WAY I SEE
IT: A Head-to-Toe Guide Guide To Common Orthopaedic Conditions and
his first novel, YOU DEAR SWEET MAN.
He is now especially
excited to introduce to his new novel, THE MYSTERY OF FLIGHT 2222,
to be published this
2018 summer.

the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!