Jan
Selbourne—a writer whose work I admire and love to read—and I (as Anne Krist)
wrote Evil Lives in the Night as novellas so readers could enjoy the suspense
of a good mystery in a tidy package. As always, she brings her knowledge and
love of her homeland, Australia, in her tone and nuance. You feel as though you’re
a part of the Oz experience. For my historical mystery, I channeled my
childhood in Iowa and my grandfather’s Lithuanian heritage for a tale that
could have happened on the street where he used to live. We sure hope you enjoy
these two novellas!
Blurb:
Two great historical mystery novellas that
will keep you guessing.
In Jan Selbourne’s The Next Stop is Dead, a
woman boards a city train one night and finds herself alone in the car with
four strangers, all men. When she discovers one of them is dead, she has to
find a way to exit the train and get help. Will she escape, or will the next
stop be her final one?
In Anne Krist’s Missing, sisters Audra and
Daina communicate using “twin language.” But how much difference will that make
when Daina disappears? Can Audra find her sister before her abductor ends
Daina’s life? Even with the help of an over-protective detective, saving her
missing twin might not happen in time.
Buy link:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Evil-Lives-Night-historical-suspense-ebook/dp/B0B5B2VPB6/
Amazon Aus: https://www.amazon.com.au/Evil-Lives-Night-historical-suspense-ebook/dp/B0B5B2VPB6/
Excerpt:
From The Next Stop Is Dead
Alison buttoned her coat against the
cold wind blowing along the platform. Melbourne might be dull and staid, but we
hosted the 1956 Olympic Games, we are known for our theatres and culture
and Flinders Street Station was once the busiest in the world. Something the
bragging Sydneysiders hadn’t achieved.
She looked at the ticket in her hand
and up at the train timetable. The next train would go express from Richmond to
Caulfield then stopping all stations to Dandenong. You can’t sit here all
night.
Wheels on the tracks and the train
pulled into the platform. Not one of the new blue trains but an old red rattler
that should have been pensioned off years ago. Three young, laughing women
wearing Footscray Tennis Club jackets got out of the end carriage and hurried
down the exit ramp. Feeling miserable, Alison got in hoping she’d be on her
own. Empty except for three men sitting together on the last row of seats. She
walked to the other end of the carriage and sat down. The whistle blew and the
train moved away from the platform and into the tunnel.
The train increased its pace through
Jolimont Yard and without meaning to, Alison glanced at the three men at the
other end of the carriage. They hadn’t moved, just sitting there reading
newspapers without speaking. The man next to the window looked at her, lit a
cigarette and after blowing a cloud of smoke into the air lifted his newspaper
closer to his face. She turned to the window again as they passed the huge
Melbourne Cricket Ground, holy ground for cricket fanatics and home of
Australian Rules Football. Watching grass grow was more interesting than
watching cricket.
The train was slowing down to stop at
Richmond station. The door opened and she looked up as a man with a newspaper
tucked under his arm got in. He walked past her and took a seat on the other
side of the aisle. The train began to move out of the station.
Four men and one woman and they’d
express through the next five stations before stopping at Caulfield. Feeling
very uncomfortable she held her overnight bag closer and gazed through the
window as the train gathered speed. Except for the clattering train wheels it
was quiet, creepy quiet. They’d just passed South Yarra station and the
reflection in the grimy window moved. That man was looking at her. Oh hell, he
was standing up. Her chest thumped when he crossed the aisle and sat beside
her.
A wide smile. “What are you like with
crossword puzzles?”
Alison felt the blood drain from her
face. Should she get up and go closer to the three men? It struck her then they
hadn’t spoken or moved since she got on the train.
He lifted his newspaper. “The
crossword is very hard today. Can you help me?”
Her throat went dry. “Pardon?”
“Two heads are better than one,” he
said brightly and pointed to the top of the page. For a few seconds her eyes
refused to absorb the words in thick capital letters. DO NOT LOOK UP. GET OUT
AT THE NEXT STOP. THE MAN IN THE MIDDLE IS DEAD.
From Missing:
Something woke her. She moved and the magazine fell to
the floor. Groggy, she scraped her hair back from her face and then rubbed her
eyes. She didn’t need to look to see that Daina’s bed remained empty—she’d feel
her sister if she were there.
The room was dark, the door closed.
But she’d left the light on in the living room and the bedroom door open.
Hadn’t she?
She’d forgotten to wind the alarm
clock and it had stopped at two-oh-five. She clicked on the lamp on the table
between their beds and got up to check her watch on the dresser. Three o’clock.
Her heart raced and her mouth dried. Where in the world was her sister?
Suddenly, the front door closing
sounded like a shot. She slid into her slippers and tightened the sash on her
robe. “Daina!” She threw open the bedroom door and rushed to the apartment
door.
Automatically grabbing her key from
the dish by the door, she rushed out into the hallway and down the stairs. She
hadn’t reached the bottom step when she saw a man halfway out the door. He
turned to look at her and she gasped. His face was rough. Stubble made it dark.
A jagged, angry scar ran from his left temple to his jaw line. There was no
smile, no lightening of expression. With a scowl, he pulled a black, flat cap
low and then left.
The door hardly made a sound but his
presence in her building set off an explosion in Audra’s mind. Who was he? How
had he gained entrance? What was he doing at three o’clock in the morning
skulking around her building?
Fear gave way to panic. Her knees
nearly gave out when the thought occurred that he might have been in their
apartment, that it had been he who she heard closing their front door.
Then the thought that screamed in her mind. Did he have anything to do with
Daina’s disappearance?
On shaky lags, she climbed the
stairs. She’d make a pot of coffee and then wait until daylight made it safe to
walk to the bus stop to start the trek downtown to the police department. She’d
think later about calling her parents but first thing this morning she’d have
to file a missing person report for her sister. Her twin. The other half of her
soul.
Reviews:
“I enjoyed these stories. They fit together despite being
half a world apart. There's an innocence to the stories you don't find in the
crime drama of today.” 4 Stars
“I really enjoyed these two novellas.
I am a fan of mystery and historic novels, so these two were great to read.
Keep up the good work ladies I am waiting for the next books or novellas to be
published. They are great gifts for my sister. Highly recommended.” 5 Stars/4
Stars
A little about me:
A
few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning
fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk
with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.
After a while, Dee split her
personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and
Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are
found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance
you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts,
where your comment can support a selected charity.
Author
links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog:
http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy
Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K