THE VIOLET CROW
by Michael Sheldon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
How do you
solve the ultimate mystery, where the murder victim has no identity and there’s
no physical evidence? You go psychic—deep psychic—and hire Bruno X. Sure,
you’re going to have to put up with some Yiddish trash talk and recycled borsht
belt shtick. But he’s the only one who can who can stop the crime spree in the
ordinarily placid Quaker community of Gardenfield, New Jersey.
Follow Bruno X in Michael Sheldon's
fictional debut, THE VIOLET CROW as he fends off rabid journalists and feckless
politicians; untangles webs of deceit in Professor Littlejohn’s Deviant
Behavior 101 class; reveals why the Quakers are still fighting over decades-old
military medical experiments; and finally, uncovers the secrets of the
biotechnology firm whose symbol is The Violet Crow.
EXCERPT:
Introducing
Gardenfield and Chief Buddy Black
The
borough of Gardenfield is home to some 35,000 peaceful souls nestled in the
friendly confines marked by Tiny’s Package Store to the north, the J. Kilmer
Pub to the east, Lillian’s Tavern to the south, and the Tiki Lounge to the
west. A Philadelphia suburb, it is a prosperous community with colonial roots
and a variety of pretensions, including a prohibition on the sale of alcoholic
beverages within Gardenfield proper. In fact, thirsty Gardenfielders simply
have to drive past the town limits on any of the major roads, in order to enjoy
a beer or a cocktail.
Buddy
Black was not a drinking man by habit. Nor was he averse to dropping by a
tavern from time to time, to see what the locals were up to and let off some
steam after work. Tonight he made a beeline for Lillian’s. It had been a while.
Lillian greeted him at the door. Rail thin and dyed blond, she appeared to be
in her 60s and to subsist on nothing but whisky, cigarettes, and conversation.
She welcomed Buddy with a hug. “Hi, hon. Nice to see you again. She’s expecting
you.”
“How
could she be expecting me? I only decided to come here 10 minutes ago.”
“We
read the papers, too, y’know.”
“I’m
that predictable…?” The Chief freed himself from Lil’s embrace and headed for
the bar. “Daisy, did you really know I’d come here tonight?”
The
woman behind the bar was dressed in tight jeans and a low-cut flower-print top.
She was busy polishing a wine glass, and didn’t look up until she’d finished
her task. Then she flashed a smile that was warmer than Lil’s rather spectral
hug. “Buddy! I haven’t seen you since—what?—Bay of Pigs. It’s about time you
came to see me.” Without asking she opened a bottle of Rolling Rock and set it
down in front of the Chief.
Michael was born in
Philadelphia and grew up in Haddonfield, New Jersey. His father was a dentist,
which accounts for his sense of humor. His mother, a Jewish mother without
peer, instilled in him the idea that the world doesn’t owe you a living—and a
love of raw oysters and dry martinis. His training in the craft of storytelling
came from reading the masters beginning with Chaucer and Rabelais, through
Sterne, to MacDonald and Westlake.
http://www.amazon.com/Michael-Sheldon/e/B002ONJDVI
https://www.libertyislandmag.com/creator/misheldon/home.html
http://msheldon.com/
https://twitter.com/TheVioletCrow
BUY Links:
http://www.amazon.com/Violet-Crow-Psychic-Detective-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00XKJA9FY/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-violet-crow-michael-sheldon/1121924355?ean=9781504014090
Thanks for hosting!
ReplyDelete