The stupendous N. N. Light’s Book Heaven Holiday Gift Guide
for 2025 is coming! There are 17 themes/genres to choose from. You’ll find mine
in Romantic Suspense/Thriller/Mystery. Be sure to check them all out!
Showing posts with label M. S. Spencer books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label M. S. Spencer books. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 4, 2025
Holiday Gift Guide Featuring My Mysteries is Coming
Friday, December 8, 2023
Backlist Surfing: Exotic Settings--Whirlwind Romance & Orion’s Foot
Romance & Adventure in the Dusky Tropics
Since my new release
won’t grace the internet until next year, I thought I’d do a little backlist
surfing. Today I’ll focus on two of my novels set in exotic locales—Whirlwind Romance, and Orion’s Foot: Myth, Mystery, and Romance
in the Amazon.
Whirlwind Romance is romantic suspense at its best—complete with a mysterious royal hero and evil power-hungry usurpers. It’s set mainly in the Western Caribbean on a tiny island. Warning: it is one of my early, spicy (R-rated) novels.
Blurb
In the aftermath of a hurricane, Lacey Delahaye finds
herself marooned on an island on the Gulf coast of Florida with a mysterious
man. They are immediately drawn to each other, but before Armand can confess
his identity, they are kidnapped and taken to a tiny island in the western
Caribbean. With the help of her son Crispin and a cadre of loyal followers, she
and Armand must face down pirates, power-mad ideologues, and palace intrigue,
if they are to restore the once idyllic tropical island to its former glory.
 |
| The beach where they escape |
Excerpt (G): The Escape
Lacey looked out again. “What’s the other castle, the
one on the northern point?”
“It’s the ancestral estate of the Proctors. The first
secretary has always come from their ranks. Edrigu is the current
officeholder.”
“The first secretary is like what, a vizier?”
“Yes. And treasurer, chief steward, commander of the
army—”
Lacey stifled a giggle. “An army of one?”
Armand looked down his nose at her. “For your
information, our muskets still work, and both Stefan and Luis are well trained
in hand-to-hand combat.”
“Should it ever be needed.”
He turned grave. “I hope to God it never will be.”
It reminded Lacey of their predicament. “Where is
Ulisses, do you suppose?”
Almost as if he’d been listening, the door sprang
open, and Traficant entered, carrying a coil of rope. “I have an appointment
with a man named Damiano.” He put Lacey on the cot and tied her hands to the
bedposts. Dragging a chair to the other side of the room, he lashed Armand to
it. “Now stay put. I won’t be long.” He left.
They heard the splash of the anchor. A little later,
the sound of oars dipping into the water told them their captor had taken the
dinghy. Spread-eagled on the bed, her arms stretched painfully, a familiar
panic smothered Lacey’s senses. She had never been able to stand having her
arms pinioned. She laid her head back and tried to relax, but her breathing
quickened and hysteria washed over her. She concentrated on the gentle rolling
and pitching of the boat.
“Here, let me.” Warm breath misted the back of her
head.
She tried to jerk upright, but the ropes pulled her
back down. Her eyes wild, she opened her mouth to scream, but a rough hand went
over it. “Shhh, quiet, Lacey! You’ll
wake the dead.”
“Armand! You’re…you’re free! I thought…I thought…”
“Now if you will kindly wiggle your fingers.”
Lacey did so and soon felt a loosening of the bonds
around her wrists. “How did you manage it?”
Armand held up his hands, free of rope. “Unlike
American prep schools, Eton teaches useful skills such as fencing and
lock-picking.”
“I bet you’re a big hit at parties.”
“As a matter of fact…” He picked up her hand and
kissed the tips of her fingers.
Lacey took a deep breath, and peace flooded back into
her body. “So, your degree is in escape artistry?”
“Among other things.”
She rubbed her wrists. “What do we do now?”
“We get off this boat.”
“You mean, swim?”
“If we have to.” He stood up and paced the cabin.
She stopped him, hand to his chest. “You can walk!”
“What?” He looked down as though discovering his feet
for the first time. “Oh, yes. The ankle is nearly healed.”
“But you were limping heavily only last night when
Ulisses took you.”
“That was for his benefit. If he thinks I’m still
lame, he won’t worry about our getting away.”
“I see.” She went to the door and tried the handle.
“Locked.”
Armand held up what looked like a needle. “Standard
school supplies.” He fiddled with the lock until the door sprang open.
“Why didn’t you use that before?”
“And go where?”
Orion’s Foot: Myth, Mystery, &
Romance in the Amazon
Orion’s Foot is wild—it’s set deep in the Amazon at a research station, where a mysterious cryptid may be attacking the scientists. A cryptid can be a creature from myth and legend, a supernatural or paranormal entity, an extinct animal who may still inhabit a specific area. It’s often of unusual size or appearance—like the yeti, the sasquatch, or the Loch Ness monster.
Blurb:
The Mapinguari
Excerpt: The Mapinguari
They went back down the path they’d
come, surveying the ground and vegetation for any trace of a large animal. They
had reached the mahogany tree when Petra checked her watch. “Winston’s been
gone half an hour. Maybe we should—” Her words were cut off by a low snarl.
“Emory? Is that you?” She whirled around. “Where are you?”
For answer, the growl grew deeper and
more menacing. Sounds like a gorilla—but
they don’t live here, do they? She whispered, “Emory?”
“Shh.”
She looked up. Emory clung to a low branch of the mahogany tree. He held a hand
out. “Quickly.”
She grabbed a liana, hoping fervently
it wasn’t a Strychnos vine, and
scrambled up. The growl came again, closer. They climbed higher. Something
crashed through the woods, puffing. Whatever it was entered the clearing, and
the noise stopped. Petra held her breath and Emory’s hand. It must be looking for us. After a lengthy pause that left her
feeling chilled to the bone in the torrid heat, the puffing started again,
gradually diminishing into the distance. She waited five more minutes to be
sure it was gone before whispering, “Did you get a look at it?”
“No, the foliage was in the way, but
it sounded awfully big. And grouchy. I’m going to—” As he started to climb
down, a twig snapped below them. They froze.
Something’s
being dragged through the underbrush. They waited another five minutes. Finally, she ventured, “Do you think
it’s gone?”
“I don’t know. Let me go first.” He
ducked and touched the top of his head. “Uh-oh. I hope that’s not monkey scat.”
She raised her face to the canopy.
“It’s rain.”
“Just a drizzle. No problem. We…shit.”
The downpour came suddenly, drenching
them. They sat, huddled under the canopy of leaves, waiting it out. Petra
tasted a drop on her forearm. “They don’t have acid rain here, do they?”
“No—they have a lot of poisonous
species here, but no industrial pollution that I know of.” He shielded his face
and looked up. “We can only hope manchineel trees don’t grow here. We’ll have
to ask Aguirre when we get back.”
“Manchineel?”
“Small trees of the swamp. Their sap
is extremely toxic. If it drips on you, it burns and blisters the skin. Enough
exposure can kill you.”
“But if the poison is only in the sap,
we’re safe unless we tap into the tree, right?”
“I wish. It’s a particularly vicious
plant—even runoff from the leaves in a rainstorm can sluice the poison onto
your skin.”
“Great.” She began to shiver, mainly
due to nerves. The rain stopped.
They heard a shout. Winston came
tumbling into the clearing. “Up here!”
He looked up. “What are you doing up
there?”
“We heard something.”
“Never mind. I have news!” He panted.
“My…my…son…he saw it.”
“What?”
“The Mapinguari.”
Emory started to climb down but
paused. He stretched out an arm and grabbed at the hair, stuffing a hank in his
pocket. “We should study it when we get back.”
Petra followed him. When she reached
the ground, she found Winston, his face aglow with feverish excitement. “Your
son saw a Mapinguari? Is he sure?”
“It was running through the scrub.
Acarapi followed it, but in his hurry he stepped on a snake. He pulled up and
it got away, but he says it was very tall and hairy.”
“Where was he when he saw it?”
“Only a few yards from here. He was
picking herbs for the shaman. When the snake bit him, he went home for help.”
They crossed the clearing on the way
to the boats. Winston slipped but caught himself. “What’s this? Were you people
hungry? There is food in your backpacks.” He picked up a peel. “You shouldn’t
have eaten Francisco’s bananas. You will have to pay him.”
A stalk of bananas had been stripped
from the tree and dozens of empty peels lay about. Petra shook her head. “It
wasn’t us.”
Friday, November 3, 2023
Shepherd Books Best Books of 2023 (Including The Wishing Tree)
Do drop by Shepherd's Books--a great new site for finding books to read, including mine! This is what Shepherd's goal is:
"Discovering a new book should be a magical experience where the search is part of the fun. That is what we are creating. We give readers fun ways to find amazing books."
This November they have published The 100 Best Books of 2023:
https://shepherd.com/bboy/2023
Here are my favorite three books of the year:
https://shepherd.com/bboy/
Friday, February 24, 2023
The Penhallow Train Incident Featured at NN Light's Cozy Mystery Event
Come by NN Light's Cozy Mystery event for a taste of The Penhallow Train Incident and a chance to win a great prize!
https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/post/the-penhallow-train-incident-cmbe
In the sleepy coastal
Maine town of Penhallow, a stranger dies
on a train, setting off a chain of events that draws Rachel Tinker, director of
the historical society, and Griffin Tate,
curmudgeonly retired professor, into a spider’s web of archaeological
obsession and greed. Before Rachel can unlock the soft heart that beats under
Griffin’s hard crust, they must find the map to the Queen of Sheba’s tomb, and
solve not one, but three murders.
Sunday, November 20, 2022
Great Books for a Holiday Read: Artful Dodging & The Mason's Mark
Mysteries set in Old Town Alexandria are great Christmas
reads. Old Town is the picture-perfect place for celebrating the yule-tide. Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory
Murders (which will be featured at N. N. Light’s Book Heaven Holiday Gift
Guide) is set at Christmas. Here’s the story:
It’s just before Christmas, and
Milo Everhart has two needlepoint stockings, a cross-stitch purse, and three
canvases to finish for her clients. Waiting out the rain in a pub, she is captivated
by the handsome man next to her, but blocking the road to romance are two
mysterious corpses who turn up in the tower of her Torpedo Factory Art Center.
As if that weren’t enough, a second crisis erupts—a proposal to gut her
beloved Art Center.
Tristram Brodie, hard-driving
corporate lawyer and former Marine, is focused on his plan to convert the
Torpedo Factory into a box store. He is drawn to the beautiful woman sitting
next to him, but their mutual attraction will be frustrated by both the murders
and his intentions. As they edge closer to love, they must find a way to
overcome both their differences and the still-fresh memory of her late husband.
And The Mason’s
Mark: Love & Death in the Tower, freemason, George Washington buffs,
and murder mingle high above Alexandria’s cobblestone streets.
In both the best and worst first day at work ever, docent Claire Wilding
meets the man of her dreams, but her carefully rehearsed guided tour of the
George Washington National Masonic Memorial collapses when she discovers a body
and is drawn into a dark world of black ops and Italian renegade masons, of
secret cabals and hidden treasure. Also cloaked in mystery is handsome Gideon
Bliss, a George Washington expert who haunts the Memorial, his manner evasive.
What is his secret? Claire fears she'll fall in love with him only to learn
he's a thief or even a murderer. Juggling two eccentric mothers, an inquisitive
sister, and an increasingly smitten detective, Claire must find answers to a
complex web of intrigue, including who to trust and who to love.
Buy Links for Artful Dodging:
Buy Links for The Mason’s Mark:
Thursday, June 23, 2022
Whirlwind Romance at N N Light's Book Heaven Today
Whirlwind Romance Featured at N. N. Light's Summertime Bookish Event Today!
Drop in for a lovely excerpt and a chance to win big prizes!!!!
Tuesday, March 22, 2022
The Pit & the Passion new graphic
How do you like the new graphic for my mystery romance The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost Hotel? I love it!
At midnight, in the darkness of
a deserted hotel, comes a scream and a splash. Eighty-five years later, workmen
uncover a skeleton in an old elevator shaft. Who is it, and how did it get
there? To find out, Charity Snow, ace reporter for the Longboat Key Planet,
teams up with Rancor Bass, best-selling author. A college ring they find at the
dig site may prove to be their best clue.
Although his
arrogance nearly exceeds his talent, Charity soon discovers a warm heart
beating under Rancor’s handsome exterior. While dealing with a drop-dead
gorgeous editor who may or may not be a villain, a publisher with a dark
secret, and an irascible forensic specialist, Charity and Rancor unearth an
unexpected link to the most famous circus family in the world.
Charity, despairing of unearthing any charm in her prince charming, has an unexpected suitor.
Excerpt (G): The Frog Prince
As she trudged up the stairs, rain began to
fall, sparking a chorus of cheeps from the tiny native treefrogs. It seemed to
grow louder and louder. When she reached her door, she found out why. A huge
green bullfrog sat in a small wooden cage on the mat. A tag attached to it
said, “Kiss Me.” When she picked up the cage, a guttural voice croaked, “If you
don’t kiss me, you won’t get your present.” She looked around but couldn’t see
anyone. The voice came again. “Down here.”
The frog regarded her solemnly, its large eyes
unblinking. She spoke to the air. “I am not going to kiss a frog.”
“Ah, but I’m a special frog. A prince of a
frog. Kiss me.”
She had to admit she was tempted. “If I let
you out, you’ll hop away.” Why the hell
am I talking to an amphibian?
“Then you’d better kiss me quick.”
She shrugged. The rain turned into a downpour,
and she moved under the shelter of the overhang. With hesitant fingers, she
opened the little door. The frog hopped out. Quick as a flash, she bent down
and touched her lips to its back. Surprisingly, it was neither slimy nor wet.
She resisted the urge to wipe her mouth. The frog croaked once but remained
crouched on its haunches, gazing at her. She shook her head. “No sense in
asking. I’m only doing it once.”
“Wait.”
“Wait for what?” “Wait for it…” There was a
flash of purple smoke. When it cleared, the frog was gone, and Rancor sat on
the step. “Your prince. As ordered.”
“How did you do that?”
“A magician never divulges his secrets.” He
opened his palms to reveal a bouquet of gardenias. “For you. Will you be my
valentine?”
She held the flowers and inhaled deeply.
“They’re my favorite—how did you know?”
“I made inquiries. Jane is delightful by the
way. Didn’t care much for Darryl.”
“Find
out why he only sees her once a month, and she’ll be your slave for life.”
“That
would make a refreshing change.”
“More
than you deserve. Coming in?”
“Yes. I have to watch you change into
something more suitable for Michael’s on East.”
“Rancor! I can’t afford that.”
“You don’t have to—I have secured a source of
funding.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“No. You don’t.” He closed the door behind
him. “Now, you haven’t answered my question.”
Busy with the flowers, Charity didn’t reply.
He took the vase from her and set it down. Then he took her in his arms. “Will
you be my valentine?”
At that, something broke inside her, and the
tears flowed.
He dried them. “Should I take that as a ‘yes,’
or a ‘get out of my sight, you ogre’?” She kissed him, unable to talk.
“Go then. Put on that pearly white dress you
wore in Paris. And leave your hair down this once.”
She obeyed, savoring the prospect of a
Valentine’s Day that just might turn out to be the best ever.
The Wild Rose Press, January 22, 2018 (Crimson Rose)
Mystery,
Humorous/Romantic Comedy
Rating: PG13
418 p.; 97370 words
Buy Links:
Monday, March 21, 2022
Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory Murders--New Graphic!
Milo Everhart isn’t ready for love. Nor is she ready to find a dead body
in the tower of the Torpedo Factory Art Center that snowy December night. She
doesn’t have time for the handsome lawyer who wants to destroy the Art Center.
Nor does she have time to worry about who has murdered whom and why. She has
needlepoint to do.
The
Torpedo Factory Art Center in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, is a hulking
former munitions factory right on the waterfront. Since the 1970s it has been
host to art studios, a museum, and an art school. It’s never been renovated and
is still a vast open central space surrounded by meandering corridors and rooms
tucked away here and there. It is topped by a tower reached by hidden stairs.
So you can imagine how our heroine, Milo Everhart, felt when she found herself
alone in a dark, empty building. Alone, except for the murderer, that is.
“Hello! Hello? 911?”
“Please
state the nature of your emergency.”
“A
body. There’s a b…b…body.” The word came out as a gurgle.
“Yes,
ma’am. Now tell me where you are.”
Milo
looked wildly around the darkened corridor. “Second floor. No lights.”
“Ma’am?
Second floor of what?”
“Oh,
er, the Torpedo Factory. I ran downstairs. I…”
“The
Torpedo Factory? You mean the building at 105 North Union Street?”
Milo
almost snapped, “How many torpedo factories do you know?” but thought better of
it. “Yes.”
“All
right, ma’am. Now, you say you’ve found a body? Is it dead?”
“Don’t
be ridiculous. Of course it’s dead. Dead. A dead body. In the office.”
“The
office?”
“The
tower. Look, can you send the police? I’m all alone in the building. Except for
the body, of course. I mean, it’s pitch black in here. Please?” She knew she
sounded less than rational, but weren’t 911 operators trained to weed out the
gibberish and cut to the chase?
“I’ve
already sent out a call. The police should be arriving any minute. Now, will
they be able to enter the building?”
“Oh!
Er. I don’t know. Archie’s already locked up.”
“Archie?”
“The
super. He’s long gone, though.”
“Can
you get to a door to let them in?”
Milo’s shoes must have found bubble gum on the floor all by themselves, since they appeared to be stuck. “I…uh…I can’t get to the doors.” Nothing but silence on the other end. She must think I’m lazy. Or a coward. I’ll bet she knows how to wait people out, to force them to do her bidding. “I’m not lazy, miss. I’m just…I’m wondering. What if the murderer is hiding somewhere, still in the building?”
“Murderer? You think the victim was murdered?”
The Torpedo Factory in Old Town Alexandria
You can find Artful Dodging here:
Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory
Murders
Wild Rose Press, 7/20/2016;
Imprint Crimson Rose
Theme(s): Mystery/Cozy
Mystery
Contemporary romantic Suspense, M/F, 2 flames
Ebook, 66,830 words; Print 268
p
Rating: Hot (R)
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