#mysterythriller&suspense

[jimfostercoc]

Cristina Alger, former analyst at Goldman Sachs and author of "The Darlings," talks about what it was like during the financial disaster of 2008 in New York. This full interview from a 2012 episode of "Conversations On The Coast with Jim Foster" can be heard now wherever you get your podcasts.

#2008financialdisaster #21stcentury #authorinterview #book #coc #conversationsonthecoast #cristinaalger #financialscandal #financialthrillers #goldmansachs #jimfoster #literaryfiction #money #mysterythriller&suspense #newyork #reading #sanfrancisco #sf #thedarlings #wallstreet

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

NOW LIVE

BEFORE THIS ENDS by #AuroraRoseReynolds

#OneClickHere #BeforeThisEnds

 www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CK52MX9M

Also available in #KindleUnlimited

Miles Thatcher and I would not have gotten together if my life had gone according to plan.

Recently single with her whole life up in the air, Emma Abate knows that getting into any kind of relationship, is a bad idea. Especially when the man she finds herself drawn to is Miles Thatcher, a single father, and a man that seems determined to break down every barricade she places between them.

Could this be real?

Miles doesn’t do complicated. But it’s difficult to remember all the reasons why Emma is supposed to be off limits when she begins to fill a void in his and his daughters' life, a void that he never realized was there, until her.

Before this ends will Miles and Emma realize they have something worth fighting for? Or will his job as a detective, the murder of two young women, and Emma’s past get the best of them before they ever get the chance?

Life is never simple, and neither is love.

#ContemporaryRomance #MysteryThriller #Suspense #RomanticSuspense #SmallTown #SecondChance #SingleDad

[reyanosekai-blog]

After one of my fire fans dropped some sick art inspired by my work, I felt like checking this place out. So, I'm here to interact with some awesome peeps and share the love for creativity. Don't be a stranger, come say what's up and let's vibe!

#mysterythriller #mystery #suspense #thriller #action #psychological thriller #historical fiction #wattpad #amreading #readers #authors #fiction #novels

[thenerdynarrative]

Stephen Graham Jones does not disappoint with this slasher sequel!

#horror #fiction #suspense #mystery #thriller #mysterythriller #thelakewitchtrilogy #theindianlaketrilogy #stephengrahamjones #jadedanielsismyfinalgirl

[automaticgardenflower]

Helen Dunmore: A View from the Conservatory

  I’ve kept quiet about it for a long time, partly because I thought Manjit might get into trouble over the keys, and partly for another reason. But I don’t see how this story could bring her down. Her opening season as director at the Scaffold Theatre blew all the critics away. Everyone sees the glow around Manjit’s name now, but it was always there, even when she was a skinny little girl. Things that I thought were solid, like school and home and growing up, were just shells to Manjit. She was the swan who’d got to hatch out of them. That’s why Manjit got the job at the Observatory. It was all part of her hatching. There was a theatre-directing course that she knew she had to get on.

  ‘It’s the best. It’s the only one, Zahz.’

  Manjit always called me Zahz, right back from the first year at primary, and soon everybody else was calling me that, too. My name is ZsaZsa. My father just liked the sound of it, he said. I’ve sometimes thought that if my name had been Emily, Manjit might never have become my best friend.

  So Manjit had to do this theatre-directing course. It was expensive, and you couldn’t get funding for it. Manjit was back home in Bristol, and she had two jobs, one waitressing in Browns, and the other working at the Observatory, selling tickets for the Camera Obscura and the Caves. I was working in a deli in Clifton, so I saw a lot of Manjit at lunchtimes, up at the Observatory. I’d been to uni, but I didn’t know what to do next and I was back at home getting some money together, like Manjit. When people asked, I said I might go travelling. But I knew, and so did everybody else probably, that I wasn’t the kind of person who goes off travelling on her own.

  It was a hot September day. Really hot, really beautiful. Manjit and I sat on a bench overlooking the bridge, and ate the olives and smoked cheese and flatbread I’d brought from work. There were butterflies on the ripe blackberries that were just out of reach on the other side of the fence. We didn’t climb over to pick them, because the drop is over two hundred feet, sheer to the Portway below. The sun glittered on the cars crossing the bridge.

  ‘It’s a great day for the Camera,’ I said.

  The Camera Obscura always worked best on a clear, bright day. Manjit let me in free. I liked it when there was nobody else there; I liked the echo of my feet as I climbed the staircase that wound its way up the tower. If the door to the Camera chamber was open, that meant nobody was in there and I could take possession. Sometimes Manjit came up with me, and that was all right in a different way, because of the stories she told.

  You go inside, you close the door and wait until your eyes get used to the dark. There in front of you is the wide bowl where the images fall. It’s a circular screen, so big you have to edge your way around it sideways, pulling the wooden handle that alters the Camera’s focus and changes the scene.

  Everyone looks for the bridge first.

  There it is, the bridge!

  Look, you can see the cars going over the Suspension Bridge!

  The Camera makes the bridge look even more fabulous than it does when you’re walking across it. There it is in the bowl, slung over hundreds of feet of emptiness. The cars don’t look important at all, but it’s wonderful when a gull swoops under the bridge. Or even a falcon, sometimes. There’s the mud, shining at low tide, and the river is as narrow as a worm.

  If there are other people in the Camera chamber, you can’t control the view. Somebody gets hold of the wooden handle and the bridge disappears. The view skims over the Cumberland basin, over the city houses and all the way around to the hills of Wales in the far distance. But when I’m on my own, I hardly move the handle at all. I watch the bridge.

  I haven’t looked into the bowl of the Camera for years. Even if I still lived in Bristol I’m not sure I’d ever go there again.

  When Manjit and I went into the Camera together, and she had hold of the wooden handle, she would watch the people and tell stories about them. If a dad was fumbling over his child’s inline skates, Manjit would say, ‘Look, Zahz, he doesn’t know how to fix the skates. It’s an access visit. His wife won’t even let him in the house, she hates him so much. He’s always here with his boy, skating up and down.’

  There was a woman in a blue suit who stared out over the Gorge for a long time and then suddenly, secretively, brought something from a bag and flung it into the deep.

  ‘Her husband’s ashes,’ said Manjit. ‘He hated heights.’

  ‘Maybe it was their favourite place,’ I said, but already the woman looked furtive to me.

  We both liked to watch the trees. There’s virgin forest on the other side of the Gorge. Right bang next to the city, land that’s never been cleared, full of owls and murders and rare orchids. You look at the trees on the Camera and at first they’re like a painted backdrop, then you realise that they’re moving, swaying to the wind that’s shut out from the Camera chamber. In real life I never notice how beautiful it is when trees move.

  On that September day there wasn’t enough time to visit the Camera. I had to get back to work. Manjit ate the last olive, and flicked the stone into the Gorge. We watched it tumble into nothing.

  ‘I’m looking after the keys,’ she said.

  ‘What keys?’

  ‘The keys to the Observatory. Just for this week, while Charlie’s away. The keys to the only Camera Obscura in the whole country are in my bag,’ said Manjit.

  ‘It’s not the only one, is it?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘You’d better look after them then. You’re always losing stuff.’

  ‘Don’t you see what it means?’

  ‘You get to lock up the Observatory at night, and unlock it in the morning.’

  ‘Zahz. Keep up. Why just at night and in the morning? Why not at other times?’

  ‘You’re joking. You want to have a party there?’

  ‘Not a party,’ said Manjit with a flick of her hand. ‘But listen, Zahz, it’s full moon on Thursday. And the forecast’s good. There’ll be a big bright moon. Can you imagine the Camera by moonlight?’

  ‘It won’t look like anything,’ I said quickly, even though I knew already that Manjit had planned it all and it was going to happen. ‘There won’t be enough light for the contrast.’ Perhaps I was nervous about being on the Downs at night. When you grow up in Bristol you get it drummed into you that the Downs at night is not the place to be.

  ‘How will we know unless we try?’

  ‘What if we get caught?’

  ‘We won’t get caught. Anyway, I’m in charge of the keys. I’ll say I was working overtime.’

  Her face flared into laughter. I knew I wasn’t being offered a choice.

  Manjit borrowed her mum’s car that night, the night she had chosen for us to go. We parked near the Lord Mayor’s House, which meant we had to walk up to the Observatory through the woods. Manjit was right, there was so much moon that we didn’t need our torches. There were one or two people about, even though it was so late, but they weren’t interested in us. I didn’t like it, though. There were always strange sounds in the woods at night; I knew that. It didn’t mean anything, it was just birds and animals and—

  ‘What was that, Manjit?’

  ‘Nothing. Ssh.’

  We crept on, stepping as lightly as we could, along the path that skirts the Gorge and then rises to the Observatory.

  ‘Manjit—’

  ‘Ssh!’

  Her fingers dug into my arm. We stood frozen, listening. A woman’s cry echoed, cut off as if it had been pulled out of her throat.

  ‘It’s OK,’ whispered Manjit, but her voice was thin. ‘You know what this place is like after dark.’

  The daytime face of the Downs was peeled away like a mask. The sunbathers and kite-flyers and joggers and ice-cream vans were gone, and something else was here.

  ‘The keys, Manjit. Have you got the keys?’

  I wanted to get out of the moonlight, out of plain sight. Manjit fumbled the keys and I kept watch. There were shadows all around us. As soon as I turned, they jumped closer.

  ‘Manjit!’

  The key clicked. We were in. Manjit pointed her torch beam down, so no one would see our light. There was her chair, where she sat all day selling tickets. Manjit slipped past it, like the ghost of herself, and I followed.

  I kept my hand on the wall as we climbed the stairs. It felt rough and safe. Manjit was up ahead, and darkness was behind us.

  ‘You did lock the door again, didn’t you?’

  ‘Zahz, relax.’

  The door to the Camera creaked open. Manjit’s torch beam found the wooden handle. We closed the door and bent over the Camera’s bowl.

  I hadn’t believed it could happen. You need bright sun for the Camera. But as we watched, the bridge swung into view.

  ‘The lights are off,’ I said.

  ‘Maybe they switch them off after midnight.’

  Even so, the bridge was darkly brilliant in the moonlight. The trees behind it swayed like seaweed.

  ‘There aren’t any cars,’ said Manjit.

  But there were people. A man and a woman. We could see them clearly now, coming over from the Leigh Woods side of the bridge.

  ‘The fence has gone,’ whispered Manjit.

  ‘Which fence?’

  ‘You know, the one that stops people from jumping.’

  She was right. The high, incurving fence was gone, and there was only the wooden handrail, chest high. The woman was hurrying, almost running, but the man was gaining on her.

  ‘They’ve had a quarrel,’ said Manjit. ‘She told him it was over. He’s desperate, he wants to make it up with her.’

  The woman was really running now. She was more than two-thirds across the bridge.

  ‘There’s always someone in the toll-booth,’ said Manjit. ‘She can go in there if she’s upset.’

  But the booth was dark. There was only the woman, running, and the man close behind her.

  ‘There,’ said Manjit, ‘he’s caught up with her. I told you, it’s a quarrel. They know each other. Look at them.’

  He’d taken her in his arms, lifting her off her feet. They were one body now, vanishing into each other. They swayed awkwardly, dancing but not dancing, him holding her off the ground. The spread of overhanging trees hid them as they came to the piers, and we couldn’t see them any more.

  I let out my breath.

  ‘I want to go home,’ I said.

  ‘No, we’ll see them again in a minute. I can’t believe how clear everything is in the moonlight. It’s like a stage-set.’

  A few seconds later a figure came out from the shadows. A man, walking slowly, almost strolling, you could say. Alone. Manjit and I stared into the bowl.

  ‘Move the handle, Manjit. He’s walking out of range. Follow him.’

  But Manjit didn’t touch the handle.

  ‘It’s not the same man,’ she said.

  ‘Of course it is.’

  ‘Maybe she ran across the road, away from him. We wouldn’t have seen her.’

  I didn’t answer. Moonlight lay in the bowl, washing the bridge into glory as it hung suspended over more than two hundred feet of nothing. Manjit’s fingers dug into my wrist as we watched until the man had disappeared.

  ‘Manjit—’

  I heard Manjit’s breath sigh out of her. She turned to me and her eyes shone.

  I laid my hand on the screen and trees rippled over it. I could touch the trees, but they couldn’t touch me. If I went out of the Camera chamber and opened the windows of the tower, I might hear something. Maybe footsteps, hurrying. Maybe a cry, suddenly cut off as if it had been pulled out of a woman’s throat. But I didn’t move.

  We never talked about it, did we, Manjit? We never said another word about what we saw that night when the safety fence melted away, and the moonlit bridge printed itself on to the Camera’s bowl.

#modern #suspense #thriller #short fiction #mysterythriller

[rbtbc]

***NEW BLOG POST*** Reading Beyond The Book Cover - The Jot Down for December 10, 2022

QOTD: What’s a movie title that made you look twice?

Check out the post to see the title I mentioned.

#bookblr #booklr #TheVilla #UnderneaththeSycamoreTree #readersoftwitter #readers of tumblr #ARC #weekend reads #bookish #bibliophile #booksbywomen #booklover #booksbooksbooks #bookworm #gothic fiction #suspense #mystery thriller #mysterythriller #gothicfiction #weekendreads #blogger #blog #bookblogger #bookblog

[splatland]

FIRST AMAZON CUSTOMER REVIEW: PLATFORM SHOES, A STEVE DANIELS MYSTERY

FIRST AMAZON CUSTOMER REVIEW: PLATFORM SHOES, A STEVE DANIELS MYSTERY

5.0 out of 5 stars  Hard-Boiled Excellence Reviewed in the United States on July 24, 2022 Verified Purchase With just the right amount of details—two fingers of Jack Daniels—the author transports the reader to the mid-forties where Steve Daniels steps off the pages into the reader’s psyche. A recovering, wounded war hero, Steve has a lot to learn when it comes to women, particularly Kathy…

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#romanticsuspense #darkfiction #mystery #mystery/suspense #mysterythriller #series #suspense #suspense-thriller #world war II #World War II Mystery

[ednajoness]

#Edna Jones

[classiccinemadelights]

#Gaslight (1940) | British Mystery Thriller

[lovelyloveday]

#review - The Chateau is a captivating mystery that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Set in a picturesque location, this novel is written with exquisite detail, lively prose, and a series of unexpected twists and turns that will leave you guessing until the very end. With each page, a new secret is revealed, adding to the suspense and intrigue of this thrilling tale. If you're looking for a book that will keep you engaged from start to finish, The Chateau is a must-read.

The Chateau by Jaclyn Goldis https://bit.ly/3qfoRWx

#mystery #mysterybooks #mysterythriller #TheChateau #JaclynGoldis 

[fredhandbag]

Hunting Time is book 4 in the Colter Shaw series from Jeffery Deaver. "Allison Parker is on the run from her ex-husband, who has just been released early from prison. She packs up her teenage daughter, Hannah, and flees, hoping to elude her ex who also happens to be an ex-cop. Colter is hired by her employer to find and protect her. " Initially, you think this will be a typical "battere d wife running from abusive spouse" story. But Deaver goes a different way. There's a nuclear power manufacturer, contract hit men, social media and an unexpected conspiracy. Mix all that together and add Deaver's ability to write a fast-paced narrative and you have a great story. There are several of Deaver's signature twists here. You think you know what's going on but JD has something else in mind.- all the way to the end. I like that Deaver doesn't fall into the "I need to over-explain this" trap in this book - just story here. This is my first read of the new Colter Shaw character. Deaver gives enough catch-up backstory for readers to know about him but now I need to go back and read the other books in the series. This is a "chase" book - lots of parties are after the same thing. Great pick if you're looking for some fast-paced action and suspense. #huntingtime #jeffreydeaver #lincolnrhyme #rhymeandsachs #coltershaw #shelfie #sundayshelfie #bradshelfie #homelibrarygoals #bookstagram #bookshelves #booknerd #readinglife #bookphotography #bookcommunity #bookblogger #sodacityreads #suspensebook #bookhaul #literarycrimefiction #homelibrary #thrillerbooks #domesticthriller #crimefiction #thriller #characterdrivenbooks #mysterythriller #bookrecs #putnambooks https://www.instagram.com/p/ClOTR_7LW_s/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#huntingtime #jeffreydeaver #lincolnrhyme #rhymeandsachs #coltershaw #shelfie #sundayshelfie #bradshelfie #homelibrarygoals #bookstagram #bookshelves #booknerd #readinglife #bookphotography #bookcommunity #bookblogger #sodacityreads #suspensebook #bookhaul #literarycrimefiction #homelibrary #thrillerbooks #domesticthriller #crimefiction #thriller #characterdrivenbooks #mysterythriller #bookrecs #putnambooks

[the-page-ladies]

Book Review…The Wolves Are Watching by Natalie Lund The night little Madison disappears from her crib, Luce sees a pair of eyes, two points of gold deep in the forest behind her house and feels certain they belong to a wolf. Her town, Picnic, Illinois, is not the kind of place where a toddler goes missing without a trace, where wolves lurk in the shadows. In town, people are quick to blame Madison's mom. But when Luce's English teacher shares an original script about the disappearance of another little girl in Picnic back in 1870, Luce begins to notice similarities. Certain that something deeper is going on, Luce tracks the wolf she saw into the woods and uncovers the truth: magical animal women have taken her cousin for their own purposes and they have no intention of bringing her back. This was an nice read! It's a well paced story with that spooky feel making it a good read for the Halloween season. I liked the main characters Luce and Fanya and the mystery of the plot. There was enough mystery that I wanted to keep reading to find out what would happen next. But if you're looking for a book that has some magic, a whole lot of suspense and a touch of romance then you will like this one! Thank you Turn the Page Tours and Natalie Lund for sharing this book with me! #TheWolvesAreWatching #NatalieLund #books #TurnthePageTours #mysterythriller #bookish #youngadultbooks #bookstagram #bookreview #bookstagrammer #booktours #igbooks #igreads #bookrecommendation #yamysteryreads #VikingBooksforYoungReaders (at Cleveland, Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjbQR5FAguF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#thewolvesarewatching #natalielund #books #turnthepagetours #mysterythriller #bookish #youngadultbooks #bookstagram #bookreview #bookstagrammer #booktours #igbooks #igreads #bookrecommendation #yamysteryreads #vikingbooksforyoungreaders

[yumicasts]

📚Dark Matter by Blake Crouch📚 If you like science-fiction mystery thrillers – this should be your next pick. I could not put this book down the moment I started it. I feel like it encompasses all the elements of suspense, drama, multiverse, parallel/infinite possibilities with science incorporated in superbly. It also managed to touch me on an emotional level. When I started reading Dark Matter, I thought it all sounded a teeny bit cliché and predictable but turns out I couldn’t see most of what happened coming - the twists and turns this book put me through were so good! I particularly enjoyed how the multiverse was conceptualized in the story. It does drag for a bit after the first half, but it later picks up again; the storyline is amazing nonetheless and I would recommend this book to anyone – especially if they’re into the genres mentioned. This book will definitely take you on a fast-paced, action-packed, interesting, disturbing adventure. #books #bookstagram #bookaddict #bookaholic #scifibooks #thrillerbooks #bookstagrammer #mysterythriller #bookish #booklover #bookworm #alliswithin #darkmatter #goodreads #bookreview #bookrecommendations https://www.instagram.com/p/CivHRLjNrHP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#books #bookstagram #bookaddict #bookaholic #scifibooks #thrillerbooks #bookstagrammer #mysterythriller #bookish #booklover #bookworm #alliswithin #darkmatter #goodreads #bookreview #bookrecommendations

[abutifulnightmar]

In the midst of trying out new platforms, I'm trying to figure out which book I want to read next. I have a few galleys I need to read, but they aren't due for a couple months... I can't decide betelween a Mystery/Thriller/Suspense or some good ol' SciFi 🤔 What are your fave genres or what have you been in the mood for lately?

Candle from @bookish_pearl on IG

#booknerd #scifi #tosleepinaseaofstars #christopherpaolini #mysterythriller #suspense #readercommunity #booktography #bookworm #bookaddict

[splatland]

editorial book review: platform shoes, A Steve Daniels Mystery by Linda Watkins

editorial book review: platform shoes, A Steve Daniels Mystery by Linda Watkins

Platform Shoes: A Steve Daniels Mystery Book 1 Linda Watkins Genre: Mystery https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09WRWJ4FB/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1RFESHQ74MZIQ It’s 1943 and Steve Daniels has had a lot to deal with in the last few years. Injured while serving his country in France, now he’s back in the States to teach in San Antonio, Texas. What’s difficult for him are the nightmares and memories of what he…

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#dark mystery #darkromance #film noir #mystery #mysterythriller #noir #romanticsuspense #series #suspense