Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so excited to be the one to reveal this cover. Jo A. Hiestand has a new release coming out in November, but we just can’t contain our excitement.
Drumroll please…
Here’s the cover for her upcoming British Mystery…
Title Bitter Night
Author Jo A. Hiestand
Genre British Mystery, Mystery
Book Blurb
When former police detective Michael McLaren is given an old photograph and newspaper article, an inquiry begins that seems straight forward enough: an accident in a millpond. But when it’s apparent that other odd deaths are linked to this, all via the victims receiving a cypher puzzle, the secret meanings become more important. More important still when a fifth dead occurs practically on McLaren’s doorstep.
Now it’s five deaths and five puzzles, and McLaren’s determined to solve the mysteries. The only problem is that the trail he’s following entraps not only himself but also his friend, Jamie—traps that might be impossible to escape.
Excerpt
The mantle clock in the front room had just chimed half two, but that’s not what wakened McLaren. The pounding on the front door did.
Melanie stirred against him, still half asleep. The moon had wandered across the sky and had disappeared behind the dim outline of the mountain range to the west. She raised her head, staring at him. “What’s the matter?”
McLaren sat up and threw back the cover. He tucked it around her. “Stay here. Someone’s at the door.” He slipped into his jeans and slippers and grabbed his shirt.
“Wait, Mike! It’s...” She raised herself on one elbow to see the clock on the bedside cabinet. “Half past two. No one would be coming here at this time of night.”
“Someone who has trouble would.” He got to his feet and slipped a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Be careful. I’m rather fond of you.”
He blew her a kiss and strode into the front room.
Even though some of his furniture had been given to a charity as he and Melanie had combined their household pieces, he knew the room intimately. The metamorphosis had been merely a matter of exchanging one sofa or chair for another sofa or chair, substituting an area rug for a different one, replacing some of his wall art for hers. The layout was still the same even if the silhouettes had altered.
He switched on a table lamp before striding over to the front door and flipping on the outside light. As his eyes grew accustomed to the brightness, he spoke against the door. “Yes? Who is it?”
A voice he knew very well quavered as the answer came to him. “Me. I need Miss Melanie.”
McLaren opened the door. Barry stood there, wearing his old navy pea jacket and wool knit cap, a torch in his hand. Wisps of hair stuck out at various angles from beneath the cap and stirred in the cold night air. “Barry! Come in, please.” Opening the door wider, McLaren ushered Barry inside. He gestured to the sofa but Barry remained near the door. Shutting it, McLaren asked what was wrong and flicked on another lamp near the sofa.
Barry wrapped his arms over his chest as he stared at McLaren. His eyes, actually his whole demeanor, implied great fright.
The soft padding of slippers on hardwood flooring sounded from the hallway, drawing both men’s attention. Melanie had donned her robe and was tying the fabric belt as she came into the front room. Seeing Barry, she walked up to him and laid her hand on his upper arm. “Barry. It’s so late. Are you alright? What’s the trouble?”
Barry squeezed Melanie’s hand. “Out there. He’s here. I don’t want him here.” His voice was soft, trembling somewhat, but even though he spoke quietly and distinctly, there was anxiety behind the tone.
“Who’s here, Barry? Not Pendragon. You’re not afraid of him.”
“Not Pendragon. He’s good. He doesn’t do mean things. It’s the bad one I seen. Mordred.”
McLaren stepped up to Barry, urgent to learn what had happened. “You know it was Mordred? It couldn’t be someone else?”
“Mordred. I know. I’ve seen him many times.”
“What does Mordred look like?”
Barry stretched his hand over his head. “Tall. Big and strong. Dressed in clothes as black as night. Sometimes he has a beard but sometimes he doesn’t. His mother makes him shave some days.”
McLaren rubbed his lips, trying to keep from laughing. “How can Mordred be here, Barry? He’s at your old village.”
“Not now. He followed me. He wants to hurt me.” His voice began to crack and McLaren steered Barry to the sofa.
Melanie took Barry’s hand. “I’m glad you came to my house, Barry, but I’m sorry Mordred frightened you. Can you tell us what happened? My husband and I want to help you.”
“I was at my cottage. After my evening tea. I went outside to talk to the moon. The wood was quiet. I wanted to say good night to everyone. It’s kind to do so.”
“It is. And your friends like it when you remember them.”
“I walked into the churchyard. I could see the tombstones good enough. The moon was shining so I could see.”
“I told everyone what I would do tomorrow and asked them what they would be doing. After that I walked along the low stone wall the goes around the church land. Then I went back to my house.”
“What happened after you returned to your home, Barry?”
“I was alright then. Mordred wasn’t at the church or the stone wall. He wasn’t in my home either.”
“Did you go out again? Is that when you met him?”
Barry frowned slightly, then nodded. “I was in my bed. Someone knocked on my door. I got up. I thought it was one of them who sleep in the churchyard, come to tell me about his plans for the next day. Not all of them tell me things, not when I ask. Sometimes they have to think about what they want to do and tell me later on. It’s secret between us so the others won’t be jealous.”
Book Trailer
Buy Links
You’ll be able to preorder your copy in a few weeks. In the meantime, follow Jo on social media. She loves chatting with readers on almost all platforms. 😊
Author Biography
Jo A. Hiestand grew up on regular doses of music, books, and Girl Scout camping. She gravitated toward writing in her post-high school years and finally did something sensible about it, graduating from Webster University with a BA degree in English and departmental honors. She writes two British mystery series—the McLaren Mysteries and the Peak District Mysteries—as well as a Missouri-based cozy mystery series that is grounded in places associated with her camping haunts. The camping is a thing of the past, for the most part, but the music stayed with her in the form of playing guitar and harpsichord, and singing in a folk group. Jo carves jack o’ lanterns badly and sings loudly. She loves barbecue sauce and ice cream (separately, not together), kilts (especially if men wear them), clouds and stormy skies, and the music of G.F. Handel. You can usually find her pulling mystery plots out of scenery—whether from photographs or the real thing.
Social Media Links
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Website: http://www.johiestand.com