LibraryBub Books May 31 2018

LibraryBub Books May 31
Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda
by Mary A. Russell

In the stillness of the night, the tree branches were full of noise from birds, squirrels and insects. Then all went silent. A slight jerk of Lee’s head, angled off to one side, signaled that he should leave. His nose still stung from the thick gun smoke hanging in the air. When Bert Grayson is murdered, it sets off a chain of events to apprehend a relentless killer who would not be stopped.

Don’t trust anyone, Lee and Miranda were warned! But they risked their own lives in this heart-stopping race against time. Lillian Grace, a woman with her own secrets, had loved Bert. Her rambling letters, written after his murder, are the only link 50 years later to what really happened in that alley the night Bert was found with his throat slit.

A tale that benefits from meticulous research, Russell instinctively understands the devices of suspense and tension and uses them to maximum effect. — Book ViralHonors: Semi-Finalist, Mystery/Thriller, Kindle Book Awards; seen on NBC, ABC, CBS and Fox

Category: Mystery & ThrillerISBN: 978-1499262964

In The Valley.

It used to be the safest place on earth to me.

But not today.

Surrounded by tall mountains, secluded from the prying eyes of the curious and nefarious. In the valley homes dotted the steep hills. Strange narrow buildings, built from old box car lumber. The men working for the railroad would stripe an abandoned box car and repurpose the wood. That might be why most of the houses have a rusty-red look.

For now, this was home.

David Beyer stood with his legs spread in the opened door at the back of the mill. Having a smoke and relaxing on his ten minute break. His eyes were riveted on the man. He watched the tall man leave the coffee shop down the street, and was now walking toward the ancient covered bridge. He was in his sixties, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair parted on the side. It looked like a fresh-cut, with a bit of a cowlick standing up in the back. His suit was expensive and fit his frame and looked like a tailored hand created it.

It was late morning and the street was not as crowded as it would have been earlier. Still, there were a lot of pedestrians and this particular street hummed with activity filling the air with the thump and rattle of the boards as a few cars passed in and out of the bridge.

The bridge built-in 1874 with a one hundred and fifty foot span across the wide Juniata river had a sign posted in the top front, Five Dollars Fine For Riding Or Driving Over This Bridge Faster Than A Walk. The ripples of water running under the bridge echoed through the wooden structure.

The tall man picked up his pace a bit, his expensive wingtips striking the stained pavement with purpose. He started to whistle a tune. He seemed not to have a care in the world.

David continued to watch the man now twenty yards from the mouth of bridge. David was six-four and built like a football lineman. He had been on a diet for several months, after his wife hinted he should lose some weight. He was dressed in the standard work clothes the mill provided each worker.

David watched the tall man step around the barricade that had been set up on the sidewalk and stretched partway into the street. It had been set up to slow down cars entering the bridge. A squawking bird flew across in front of David, perched on the top of a lamppost, and looked down at the passersby. The air was chilly and David shivered a bit even in his thick jacket, pulling the collar up around the back of his neck.

The tall man slowed as he approached the front of the bridge. Then he stopped looked in all directions. Moments later he started to run into the bridge, then he vanished. David, dropped his smoke as his mouth gapped open. He rubbed his eyes, blinking, trying to take in what he just witnessed. He jumped down to the ground and ran toward the bridge. At the entrance he stopped and looked in. Then he stepped into the bridge and walked the length of it, turned around and rubbed his head. “Did I just see what I thought I saw.” He said out loud to himself.

To be continued.

Thank You For Traveling With Me.


Book Fair on the Square in Medina, Ohio

Come join us Sunday June 10, 2018 for Book Fair on the Square in Medina, Ohio. The square will be filled with Authors selling and signing their books. Plan to spend the day on the Square in beautiful Medina, Ohio, from 10am to 3pm.

I will have a table set up and will be there offering my novel “Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows” at a special price that day, along with giving away pens and book marks.

Come join us at the Book Fair. I will look forward to seeing each one of you. Come by my table and say hello and pick up a free pen and book mark.

Mark the date on your calendar, Sunday June 10, 2018. It starts and 10am and ends at 3pm.

Thank you for Traveling With Me.

Book Viral Review Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows

This is the review Book Viral gave my novel.

An intricate and captivating read throughout, Secret Keepers And Skinny Shadows is the exciting novel from author Mary A Russell. A tale that benefits from meticulous research, Russell instinctively understands the devices of suspense and tension and uses them to maximum effect. Not by stringing a series of contrived events one after another in a tedious stream of clichés, but by creating a pervasive atmosphere of intrigue and peril which genuinely immerses the reader in the culminating mystery. A mystery that is not only aptly framed by the book’s title, but delivers a number of cleverly articulated surprises that always seem congruent with time and place. Written with an acerbic pen Russell moves confidently between time frames with rich thematic undertones that bring each era to life, whilst her characterizations are without fault. Each of her protagonist are well observed and measurably add to the suspense. Without a shadow of doubt, there is enough here to sate the most demanding of armchair sleuths.
An excellent novel by any standard, Secret Keepers And Skinny Shadows certainly deserves a place on your bookshelf and is highly recommended! Book Viral. Available on Amazon.

Thank you for Traveling With Me.

Hiking Mount Marcy in New York

A rugged hike but he made it. There were a lot of hikers on the two miles to the lake. It was dry, the dam had broken a couple of years ago and it was never repaired. I hiked back to the trail head to wait for my husband. I was getting concerned when it started to get dark, then he walked out of the woods. I breathed a sigh of relief. We spent the night at the Legendary Wentworth Hotel. Our room had a king size bed, a fireplace, a separate sitting room with TV, formal dinning, serving wonderful meals. It was a great week.

Thank you for Traveling With Me.




Gateway To The City Hidden In Time

In an unknown location is a country where the Gateway exists. The only outsiders to have visited it have sworn to keep its location secret. Many explorers down through the ages have searched sailing from country to country, with the hope of being the one to find this mystical place.

It lies on a great spur of rock above dense jungle, hidden by a high range of mountains. The map will show you the way. The man who lives in the dense jungle has the map, that leads to untold riches. The right person, repeating the right words, will be the one given the map. But what are the right words? Do you have the courage to investigate and find the man, with the map?

Thank you for Traveling With Me.

The House Hidden in Time

Somewhere in the northern part of Ireland, a split in time has opened. It has caused every road to turn to the right. One of them is the road leading to the land of Timelessness. If a traveler takes this road they are in danger if they didn’t put on their weighted shoes, for without them they would be sucked into the Land Without Time.

Once there, they would live in the House of Time. A log cabin, where under a board of the uneven floor in the first room to the right, is a red box containing ten thousand dollars in cash. But travelers who are tempted by the large stash should know that inside the thick walls of the cabin is hidden a little office of Police Inspector Harry, a giant of a man who asks silly questions about fried eggs. If you look directly into his eyes you will be turned into a frog, and there you would remain for eternity.

Don’t look in strange places or splits in time, it could be bad for your health.

Thank you for Traveling With Me.

Nut Islands, Have You Been There?

In the Atlantic Ocean, not far from the vegetable sea, so-called because certain trees that grow there produce enormous nuts over fifteen feet long. The inhabitants, the Nutanauts, use them as ships. They sail to and from the Isle of Nothing.

The Isle of Nothing is a large lake dotted with islands, stretching from the Forest of Evilshaw to the Castle of the Quest. Travelers may find it somewhere in the north of England. The Forest of Evilshaw itself is dense and trackless, no one dares to hunt there and no thief will take refuge inside its boundaries. Many legends are attached to the island and the people; some say that fairies walk its paths, others that it conceals the mouth of Anduin, resting on the edge of Helvania, hiding a house of the Grand Fairy who protects all inhabitants from Evil.

Thank you for Traveling With Me.

Ernst Willy?

All the muscles in Ernst’s six-foot five-inch thirty year old body rippled as he socked the post hole digger in for the second time, trying to make head way in the cold, hard February ground. He was thankful it wasn’t snowing. He glanced up at Mr. Harrison, the owner of the two hundred acre farm spread out in the wide valley surrounded by the Allegheny Mountains in Pennsylvania. He was a portly, fifty-five years old with dark slicked back hair who sported a handle bar moustache. He’s been Ernst’s boss for twenty years, a tough old bird who worked as hard as he did.

By five o’clock they had thirty posts put in, then strung the chicken wire on each pole. At six o’clock; “Come on Ernst let’s call it a day.”

“Gladly, I’m hungry for a good supper.”

“Good the Mrs. is making meatloaf tonight.”

He washed up in the wash-house and had supper with the Harrisons. They treated him like family. As they ate the Harrisons talked about going to the neighbors after they finished eating. They would go there often and have Ernst set up with the children. Eight year old Ida, four-year old Emma and Robert (Robbie) Smith a twelve-year-old young man who the Harrisons adopted from the poor farm.

When they finished eating he stood, “thank you again for wonderful meal.” Mrs. Harrison a slim red-head with china doll skin, smiled, “you’re welcome Ernst, glad you liked it.”

“I’ll be going now, good night.”

Ernst walked toward his small house one hundred yards from the Harrison’s big mansion. It was just right for him, not too big too clean and not too small to be cramped.

As he walked he heard a voice; “You must have Harrison’s money. You know he has a good deal of it stashed in that big house. Get it, you deserve to have it.” Ernst Willy shook his head and looked up the road in front of him and behind. “Who’s talking to me? I don’t see anyone.”

Before he realized it, he was back at the home of his employer and friend. After getting into the house he found the Harrisons were not home.

To be continued. Thank you for Traveling With Me.

Old Fuoss Mill Burns To The Ground

In 1833 the trail was rugged, rocky and full of snakes. From Sinking Valley, David pressed forward and made it over Brush Mountain. In the shadow of the blue mountains surrounding the wide expansive valley, the Juniata River cut through the land and would be the perfect place for his new home.  Beside the rushing water he worked tirelessly for three months erecting a beautiful twenty room home. He looked at his wife and son, “we are going to name this place Beyer’s Mill.”

He worked day and night digging a deep race, lining it with stones from the river. He hired skilled workers to chisel out man-sized rocks from the mountain side, using his strong Draft horses he hauled them to the river placing each one in the perfect spot to build a high dam above the race. Two months later working with builders he erected the Burr Flour Mill beside his home and a Saw Mill at the north end of the race. Then he could manufacture his own lumber and would not need to make the trip to Tyrone to buy it.

Through the years David Beyer and his family ran the small town. It prospered, growing to a large community of fifty happy influential families.

Then in May 1926 it happened. By now the town changed names to Fuoss Mills.  Both the mill and house owned by M. A. Chasewood, who just three years ago purchased the property, from William Fuoss.

The trolley car tracks were blocked by a truck. The engineer couldn’t slow the car fast enough. Breaks screeched, squealing as the car crashed into the truck, the biting smell of gasoline filled the air, as it pushed the truck into the ditch, where it over turned and dumped its full load of fuel into an underground conduit leading to the race running 150 yards to the mill. At the back of the mill a worker on a break stood at the door, lit his cigar and flipped the burning match into the race. The explosion of flames filled the race engulfing the mill, the 20 room house and all the grass around their home. The blaze raced back to the truck and exploded the tank, burning it to the frame. The drivers of the truck and trolley car escaped injury.

Three fire companies from Tyrone, and one from Bellwood responded, they were able to save two other houses nearby. All the chicken pens and other small buildings were leveled.

The mill was never rebuilt, but the community of Fuoss Mills continued to grow, prospering year after year.

Thank you for Traveling With Me.