Sketcher in the Rye:
(A Portrait of Crime Mystery)
4th in Series
InterMix (December 17, 2013)
Published by The Penguin Group
E-Book Only
ASIN: B00AVA4NH0
Synopsis
In her new job as a private eye, former police sketch artist Rory McCain has a spirited partner: Old West marshal Zeke Drummond. He may be a ghost, but when these two combine their skills, they reap justice…
Trouble has sprouted at Harper Farms. Top secret info has been leaked to the competition, and now there’s serious sabotage cropping up. So the farm’s beleaguered owner, Gil Harper, has called on Rory to dig up some dirt. But what Rory discovers raises a new field of questions…
Someone shucked Harper’s accountant and left his body in the farm’s corn maze. While Gil is quick to hire Rory to solve now not one but two crimes, the sketching sleuth isn’t so sure why the farmer wants her to focus her attention on his own family.
Regardless, Rory and Zeke will need to put their hands to the plow and solve this case before someone else is planted six feet under…
From Sharon’s Webpage:
I started writing stories as soon as I learned how to put letters together to form words. From that day forward, writing has been a part of my life whether it was my first attempt at a novel in seventh grade or the little plays I wrote for my friends to perform for neighbors and family. After college, when I was busy teaching French and Spanish to high school students, I was also writing poetry — some of it in French.
After several years, I left teaching to be a full-time mom, and when my two children started school, I went back to writing. To my delight I found that the muse was still there, still waiting patiently for me to come around. My first novel, Ghostfire, was published at that time. It went on to be condensed in Redbook magazine (the first paperback original the magazine had ever condensed.) Then came The God Children and The Portal. Redbook also published my first short story, which was subsequently sold to several foreign magazines. With two great kids, a golden retriever and a loving, supportive husband (whom I’d met at the beach when I was fourteen — but that’s a story for another day), I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be in my life. But fate had another plan for me, and it went by the name of “breast cancer.”
Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was that the cancer was discovered at such an early stage, but at the time it was all very overwhelming. Once I was back on my feet, I wanted to help other women who were newly diagnosed, worried and afraid. I became a Reach to Recovery volunteer for the American Cancer Society and went on to run the program for Nassau and Suffolk Counties on Long Island. A number of years later, with the help of my surgical oncologist and two other volunteers, I started Lean On Me, a nonprofit organization that provides peer support and information to breast cancer patients. When Lean On Me celebrated its tenth anniversary it no longer required as much of my time, and I once again found myself free to pursue my first love — writing.
Find out more about Sharon and her books here: http://www.sharonpape.com/index.html
Purchase Link at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sketcher-Rye-InterMix-Portrait-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00AVA4NH0/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1384291943&sr=1-1&keywords=sketcher+in+the+rye
Purchase Link B&N: http://www.amazon.com/Sketcher-Rye-InterMix-Portrait-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00AVA4NH0/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1384291943&sr=1-1&keywords=sketcher+in+the+rye
Guest Post by the author
Thanks for invitin‘ me here, Ruth. First off I want to say “howdy” to all the folks who stop by today. I’m federal marshal Zeke Drummond, deceased these past hundred thirty – five years. Given the date, I thought it would be a good time to tell you about my strangest Christmas. It was back in the late nineteenth century when I was a federal marshal for the Arizona Territory. A fellow by the name of Haggerty was playin‘ poker in the local saloon and he was a real sore loser. After losin‘ all his money, he flew into a rage, accusin‘ another man of cheatin‘. Then he grabbed all the money on the table and made a run for it. The other players caught up with him, surroundin‘ him on the street. He pulled out his gun and shot two of them dead without a moment’s hesitation. Neither of the men had a weapon in hand. I didn’t hear about it till I hit town the next afternoon. The following day was Christmas Eve, and I was in need of some decent food and sleep, but cold-blooded murderers don’t care if their timing is inconvenient . So I borrowed a fresh horse, grabbed some supplies and lit out after him.
There’d been no rain for a couple of weeks, which made trackin‘ him even harder. I had to double back a few times after followin‘ false leads. I rode from sunup to sundown, just stopping to let my horse rest and eat. If I let Haggerty put more miles between us, I’d never catch him. There were too many places in the Territories for a man to hide out. Then I got lucky. He risked making a small fire to cook some small animal he’d killed, and the wind was blowin‘ in my direction. It was full out dark when I approached his camp, which should’ve been to my advantage. But his horse heard me and started whinnying. By the time I could see what remained of the fire, Haggerty had taken cover behind a boulder. I did likewise. We traded shots for a minute. I couldn’t tell if I hit him, but his last shot got me. It felt like a brandin‘ iron cuttin‘ me in half. Blood soaked my shirt. I couldn’t catch my breath. I heard him jump on his horse and take off. By sheer determination alone, I pulled myself back into my saddle and went after him, although I had no idea what I’d do if I managed to catch up with him.
When I opened my eyes it was mornin‘. I was lyin‘ on the ground with no recollection of whether I’d dismounted or just fallen off my horse during the night. I looked around, tryin‘ to figure out where I was. There were large stretches of the Sonoran Desert that look pretty much the same, and my head was too foggy to be of any help. I got to my feet slowly, takin‘ stock of myself and waitin‘ for the pain to slam into me. All I felt was a dull ache. It occurred to me that I was breathin‘ okay and as far as I could tell there was no fresh blood on my clothes. I was in downright amazin‘ shape, considerin‘ I’d half-expected to die durin‘ the night.
I didn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, so I forced down some bread and managed to keep it from comin‘ back up. My horse was nearby chewin‘ on the desert scrub as if nothin‘ unusual had happened. After I shared my water with him, we set out on Haggerty’s trail again. We didn’t catch up to him for a couple more days, but by then he’d let down his guard. I found him in the backroom of another small town saloon, enjoyin‘ the company of a woman like he didn’t have a care in the world. I had a mind to see justice served right then and there, but I’d sworn an oath. So I took him back to stand trial.
Now I’m a logical man, but I’ve never been able to make sense of what happened to me. Maybe the wound wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Or maybe I had a guardian angel lookin‘ out for me. But since I wasn’t likely to ever learn the truth, I finally decided to stop wonderin‘ and just think of it as a Christmas gift.
I would like for you to come back in a day or so to read my review. Also, there will be a giveaway!
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