Dead Men Tell No Tales


Series: Lindsey & Ike Romantic Mystery, Book 3
Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
Release Date: Nov 2017
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Available Formats: eBook
Digital: 9780996770651
In this third installment of the Lindsey & Ike romantic mystery novella series, things don’t add up after a suspicious hunting accident. The more Sheriff Ike Harper and newspaper editor Lindsey McKay dig, the more questions they find. Will a dead man tell tales?

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© Copyright 2012 – Maggie Toussaint

Chapter 1

Despite the distant rumble of thunder, the first dinner in our new home on River Road was amazing. I couldn’t stop smiling at Ike and his eight year old son Trent. Sure, we’d grilled burgers and hot dogs here before, but tonight everything tasted extra special.

I’m Lindsey McKay, editor of the Gazette, Danville, Georgia’s, weekly newspaper. Sheriff Ike Harper is my partner in housing and love. He’d been burned in matrimony once so we were trying a less traditional route with our nearly nine-month romance. We’d joined our names on a property deed and called it good.

In principle, I agreed with Ike. A piece of paper saying we were married wasn’t a guarantee of happiness, but I also valued tradition. Living in the moment was challenging.

Forks clanked on plates, drawing me from my musings. I passed the platter of grilled meat since the baked beans and watermelon bowls were empty. “Seconds?”

Trent dug in like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Ike settled back in his seat, a goofy smile on his face. “We should’ve done this months ago.”

We’d struggled with our commitment level this summer, or so I’d thought. Turned out we had communication and processing issues. Since summer had turned to fall, I’d been learning to speak guy, and he’d been doing his best to make me happy. How was it possible to be deliriously happy and yet worried that I might mess it up?

“What?” Ike said. “You scowled.”

“I did? Sorry. Thinking of something else.”

“You must not like that something else.”

“It’s no big deal,” I said, hoping he’d let it drop.

Lucky for me, Trent distracted his dad with a question about football tryouts, and less than five minutes later, an emergency call came in for Ike. Hunting accident.

After Ike left, I thought how my role had shifted. Before, I’d chased cops to a scene to get the story for the paper. Now I lived with a cop and had more information than I could print. Best of all, I chose to stay home with Trent when these afterhours calls occurred.

From the incident details I overheard, one man accidentally shot the other in the swamp when he heard a noise. I didn’t know the name of the shooter yet, but Dispatch mentioned he seemed broken up about the tragedy.

The victim, John Starling, tended bar at Fiddler’s at the north end of the county. I’d met him once when he came into the office to buy a newspaper, not long after he moved here this spring.

Time flew as Trent and I played cards, bathed, and got ready for bed. Ike returned in time to tuck his son in for the night. “Was it bad?” I asked when we were cozied up on the sunporch sofa.

He drew me into his arms. “Seemed straightforward. Both men were hog hunting in the swamp. Neither was aware of the other. Sonny Mowrey shot the bartender, thinking he was a hog. Mowrey was so upset he could barely hold it together to give his statement.”

“I’ve shot a gun before, at targets mind you, but I’ve never shot a person, and I hope it never came to that. I’d be a wreck too.”

“Seemed cut and dried to me. Accident all the way.”

An accident. Many people today thought “accident” meant no one was responsible. Surely that wasn’t the case for a human life. “Will Mowrey face charges for killing someone?”

“I’m running his fingerprints right now, something he isn’t happy about.”

“Why? He said he shot the guy.”

“Learned this lesson a long time ago. Tie up loose ends or they’ll bite you in the butt. Whatever happened out there, I’ll get to the bottom of it. It’s always best to follow procedure.”

“I want to see the police report tomorrow.”

He nuzzled my neck. “I expected no less, Madame of the News.”

I swatted him playfully, enjoying his attention. “You make me sound like something dirty.”

“You make me think wild thoughts.” His hands drifted lower. “How about we take ourselves up to our bedroom and let the world take care of itself?”

“Sounds good, but I have one more question.”

Ike groaned. “What is it?”

“Where was the bullet hole?”

“Straight through the heart. Two kill shots.”

Swamp hogs came in all sizes and were ferocious. You did not want to be charged by one, so you made sure you aimed at the right spot. “A person is taller than a hog.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t Mr. Mowrey have aimed lower if he was hog hunting?”

“Good observation, but these people barely knew each other. Let’s not look for murders. The simplest explanation is usually the best.”

“I’m not looking for anything. My mind went there on its own.”

He studied me for a long moment. “You have good instincts, Linds, and I’ve learned to trust them. We’ll find out the angle of the shots at autopsy. Now, can we let the dead sleep long enough for us to have some privacy?”

I pulled free of his embrace and rose. “Race ya.”

Chapter 2

Cousin Janey, my best friend and sleuthing buddy, stopped by my office first thing in the morning. Her face glowed from all the time she was spending with Junior Curtis, so things between her and the bail bondsman must be going strong. “I heard.”

Though I was pretty sure I knew where she was headed, I couldn’t resist teasing her. “About what? The first night Ike and I spent in our home?”

She slouched in a guest chair and propped her sandal-clad feet on my desk. “Well, that too. Nothing like buying property to cement a relationship. Or destroy it.”

Janey was a Realtor. She’d seen it all with the clients she’d chauffeured around in hopes of a sale. “We’re going for cementing our relationship. Don’t jinx us.”

“Got it, but you guys are golden. With home ownership, you and Ike are legally bound. You’re as good as married now.”

“Keep that on the down low. Ike’s scared to death of the M-word.”

“At least you got a commitment out of him. My guy goes home every night. No hint of a ring or a future.”

“Junior makes you happy, and he lights up when you enter the room,” I said. “I’m glad he turned out to be a nice guy.”

“Me too. If he’d been with the mob as rumored, I’d be in deep trouble by now because I can’t stay away from him. He’s got this magnetic pull.”

I chuckled. “They’re called pheromones, Cous, and you are hooked on his.”

Janey took her time answering, as if she were considering the matter at great length. “Junior’s all-consuming. We talk, we make out, we, you know, and then he goes home. Both of us want that so we don’t have to explain that he slept over to my daughter or to my ex.”

“Y’all are finding your way. It’ll work out.”

“I suppose, but I didn’t come over to talk about either of our relationships. I heard about Sonny Mowrey. I know him.”

My curiosity spiked, and I leaned forward. “You do?”

She nodded. “I sold Sonny and Deena that foreclosure house out on the point a few years ago.”

I grabbed a notepad and a pen, eager to take notes. “What can you tell me about them? Where’d they come from?”

“They were vague about their hometown, but they moved here from Florida. Just wanted a place on the water that was off the grid.”

“Lot of people come here for that reason. Who’d they get their loan through?”

“No loan. They paid cash.”

Even though my folks gave us a good price on the house, Ike and I had to get a mortgage to buy this place. “Cash? For a house?”

“It was an easy sale and a quick closing. They offered on the house and owned it less than a week later. They told the people they could leave any furniture they didn’t want in the house. First I ever heard of anyone doing that.”

The furniture part wasn’t too weird. Mom and Dad left a lot I still needed to go through. But we were family. “Weren’t you suspicious?”

“I needed the money,” Janey said. “But now, I’m wondering if I should mention it to Ike.”

“Ike already believes I read murder into every 9-1-1 call. Are you thinking Sonny Mowrey didn’t have an accident? That he meant to kill John Starling?”

“Something is strange about the Mowreys. Both of them had short bleached blonde hair when they moved here. Now Sonny’s totally dark-haired with a full beard and a ponytail. Deena’s sporting a pink doo at the moment. I don’t know how she walks with so many rings on her toes. Have you ever worn a toe ring?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither. What’s wrong with us?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Seems like with our racy ancestress, we’d be on the forefront of every trend. Guess the Episcopalian upbringing trumps the Beulah McKay exhibitionist genetics.”

“Speak for yourself. I’ve been letting my inner exhibitionist have free rein lately. It’s more fun, and Junior likes it.”

I did not want to know what they were up to at her place in the deep dark of night. “Enough about us. Can you think of any reason Sonny Mowrey might’ve shot John Starling?”

“Well. The obvious thing is two men and one woman.”

“Deena came between them?”

“Not saying she did. You asked if there was any reason. Deena seemed very flirty and . . . accessible when she was my client.”

“She flirted with you?”

“She turned on the charm everywhere we went. I always had the sense she was working a room when we hit a restaurant or the Bar and Grill for lunch.”

“Extroverted wife. Introverted husband.” I weighed the ideas in each hand. Given Janey’s observations, I had no trouble picturing a love triangle. “What was Sonny’s response?”

“He didn’t react to her flirting, but he always sat beside her in the back of my car.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’d go into a killing rage if she strayed. Do you ever see them out and about in town?”

Janey studied the ceiling for a moment. “I waved to them at last year’s Fall Festival, but I was in the kid area with CeeCee. They didn’t wade through the screaming children to speak to me, and I couldn’t leave my daughter there alone to go speak to them.”

“So they keep to themselves. They haven’t been in trouble with the law since I moved back home last fall. I ran their name through our archive and there’s never been anything in the paper about them. Then it occurred to me that I was looking in the wrong place. I searched for their names online. You know what I found?”

Janey grabbed my orange stress relief ball, squeezed it several times, and returned it to my desk. “What?”

“Nothing. I even checked the Census listing. I was stunned. They should have some digital footprint other than property ownership. Is Sonny a nickname or his legal name?”

“It was the name he signed on the contract and the name on his Florida driver’s license.”

“I wonder if Ike knows about this,” I mused, thinking out loud.

“He doesn’t like you nosing around in his cases.”

“I’m fact finding for my feature story. He can chase all the bad guys he wants. I want nothing to do with that end of things.”

“I’m sure he’ll discover this much on his own,” Janey said. “How come there’s no other information on the Mowreys?”

“Perhaps they’re not newsworthy people. If not for Aunt Fay’s membership in the DAR and her property deed, I couldn’t find her online. I checked.”

“Get real. The Mowreys are our age. Look up any late twenty-something online and you get a ton of hits from the search engine. Something’s fishy about this duo.”

“I’m getting that sense myself. What about the bartender? You know John Starling?”

“He asked me out once. I was attending a high school classmate’s birthday party at his bar not two months ago.”

“Did you do it?” I reached for the stress relief ball and massaged it absently.

“Nah. No chemistry. After my divorce, I thought I wouldn’t date again. I was devoting myself to being the best Mama ever.”

“And look at you now. How do you explain Junior to your daughter?”

“I just say we’re seeing each other. CeeCee doesn’t have a problem with it one way or another.”

“And your ex?”

“He’s steamed about Junior, but he’s keeping his mouth shut. Junior’s badass reputation is serving me well.”

“My, how the tide has turned.”

We were grinning at each other like silly fools when the front door burst open. I heard my assistant’s voice go from placating to loud in the lobby. Ellen is a good gatekeeper, and she keeps the public at bay when I’m busy. She only allows people back if they’re blood relatives, Ike, or someone we’re interviewing for our next paper.

A buxom woman appeared in my doorway. She was pretty in an overdone, big pink hair and fake eyelashes kind of way. The short dress, bare legs, and high heels made a feminine statement. A closer look revealed shiny rings on her toes.

Deena Mowrey had come to me. Oh, joy.

Really Truly Dead


Series: Lindsey & Ike, Book #1
Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
Release Date: Feb 2017
Genre: Mystery
Available Formats: eBook
Digital: 9780996770637

An amateur sleuth and her dog return home to a town of secrets…and an ugly murder

In this novella, science writer Lindsey McKay takes a leave of absence from her job and returns home with her dog to save the family newspaper. She left Danville ten years ago and she trusts she can wrap this up quickly. She promises her Atlanta boss she’ll return in two-weeks.

Sheriff Ike Harper is thrilled at Lindsey’s homecoming. She’s the gal who got away, and now he has a second chance at the woman he’s always admired.

Lindsey encourages her father to fight for the paper’s survival, but he won’t cooperate. Meanwhile, the murder of a local judge is a boon for the newspaper, but it’s too late. With her leave running out, neither the tragedy nor Lindsey’s hard work can save the failing business. Then the sheriff arrests her father for the murder, and she faces a new challenge.

Determined to clear her father’s name, Lindsey stirs up a hornet’s nest of trouble. Will saving her father’s life cost Lindsey hers?

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© Copyright 2016 – Maggie Toussaint

Chapter 1

The two a.m. call from my aunt got my blood pumping. Daddy’s drinking had the family newspaper on the rocks, and now he’d totaled his car. By the time I emailed my boss to let him know I was going home, packed, and hit the road, it was nearly three. The miles between Atlanta and Danville rolled by with me alternating between being thankful Daddy survived and being worried about his mental health.

My first stop in town was the Morrison County Sheriff’s Office. My family was a tad off-beat, but we were law-abiding citizens. Until now. I’d never been inside the jailhouse before. For courage, I clipped the leash on my black lab so she could accompany me.

An attractive blonde deputy rose from the reception desk when we entered. Her crisp uniform and bright smile contrasted with the worn-out lobby. “We don’t allow dogs in here,” she said. “Hey, I know you. You’re Lindsey McKay.”

I smiled, aware my carrot top had given me away. “Guilty as charged.” I squinted discreetly at the shiny name plate on her pocket flap and startled at the familiar name. Sister or wife, I wondered. “Sorry, Deputy Harper. I drove through the night, and I wasn’t thinking. Excuse me, while I return Bailey to my car.”

“Never mind. It won’t take two shakes to out-process your Dad. Bailey can stay.” The woman smiled. “I’m Alice Ann Harper. You were in my brother’s class.”

My jaw dropped. Ike’s sister had grown into a beauty. “I didn’t know you were a cop.”

Alice Ann reached under the counter and withdrew papers and a brown paper bag with Daddy’s name on it. “The employment opportunities are somewhat limited in Danville.”

I nodded. An office door banged open, and a brawny male in a close-fitting white polo shirt navy slacks, and a holstered gun swaggered my way. Age had been kind to Ike Harper. He’d filled out through the shoulders and chest, but his waist was as trim as ever.

“How’ve you been, hon?” Sheriff Ike Harper crushed me in arms of steel.

Masculine warmth made my cheeks burn. Uh-oh. He still had it, and I didn’t want it.

“I’m good. Nice to see you, Ike.” I gently pushed against his chest until he released me. “I’m here for my dad. What can you tell me about his wreck?”

Ike squatted and gave my dog the same effusive welcome I’d received. I noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

“Mr. McKay clipped an oak and rolled his car on Oldham Road at one a.m.,” Ike said.

How odd. “What was he doing out so late?”

“He kept muttering about a deer in the road. EMTs checked him out, and he refused transport. My guys brought him here. He has a court appearance for the DUI and a fine. Shouldn’t be too bad for his first offense.”

My thoughts whirled at the news. “This feels . . . surreal. I mean I knew his drinking increased over the years, but he always drank at home. I’m stunned. Thank you for getting him checked out. That’s one thing off my mind.”

“He’ll come him around now that you’re here. On another note, want to get a cup of coffee while you’re home? We missed you at the ten-year class reunion last month.”

With those lady killer eyelashes and luminous brown eyes, Ike had been a player in high school. That wasn’t for me. “I had a conflict with reunion weekend, and no thanks on the coffee. Between tending to Daddy and salvaging the newspaper, my time won’t be my own.”

Alice Ann slid papers my way. “Sign these forms.”

Ike leaned against the counter as I signed. “You still working for that science magazine in Atlanta?”

“Yes. The Georgia Journal of Science. I like it there.”

“They’re lucky to have you. If you need anything while you’re home, just ask. I’m swamped today coordinating the search teams looking for Judge Sterling, but I should be free soon.”

“The judge is missing?”

“His wife reported his disappearance at dawn.” Ike waved and headed to his office. “Good to see you, Linds.”

I collected the bag of Daddy’s things and trailed Alice Ann down a long corridor, Bailey padding silently beside me.

My plan was to be stern, but I caved when I saw my father behind bars. In the seven hours since his accident, the cuts on his face and arms had scabbed over. Both eyes were blackened. Alcohol fumes permeated the air. “Daddy?”

He perched on the narrow bottom bunk. “Lindsey? That you?”

Alice Ann waved me inside the unlocked cell. “Take your time.”

Bailey trotted in and licked my father’s toes. “Who’s this fine retriever?” my father asked, as he patted my dog.

“That’s Bailey. I told you I’d rescued her from the shelter when we talked in March. On your birthday.” I knelt and pulled his shoes from the brown bag. He’d lost more weight since I’d seen him at Christmas. With Mama overseas, was he even eating regularly? My heart sunk. Why didn’t Aunt Fay call me earlier?

“Where’s your brother?” he asked.

The question caught me off-guard. “Colin’s dead, Daddy.”

His brow furrowed, and then he nodded. “Forgot.”

Oh, dear. My father was worse off than I thought. I helped him with his shoes. “How do you feel?”

“Sore. And hungover.” He met my gaze. “You going to yell at me?”

“You’re making bad choices. That wreck. You could’ve died. We’ll discuss this later, when you have a clear head. Let’s get you home. Can you stand?”

Together we walked down the corridor. Why was he thinking about Colin now? After my brother was lost at sea ten years ago, my family fractured. At least I’d gotten counseling in college and started over. For years, my father had refused to talk about Colin.

A young boy burst in the sheriff’s lobby. He looked to be about eight and he had Ike’s eyes and hair.

“Dad, hurry,” the boy shouted. “There’s something dead under the bridge. Can I have it?”

The blood drained from my face. I froze in mid-step. What father allowed his kid to collect dead animals?

Ike ruffled the boy’s hair. “Easy, Trent. You’ve shocked Miss McKay. She doesn’t know the animal refuge needs road kill for their injured hawks.”

My heart started beating again. “Thanks for the explanation.”

Trent tugged on Ike’s arm. “Come on. Someone else might get it. I wanna feed the hawks.”

Reassured all was well, I waved goodbye, loaded my father in my car, and headed home.

We took Dock Road to River Road, passing the bronze historical marker outside St. Paul’s. My crazy ancestor, Beulah Lindsey McKay, had saved the church from fire-wielding Yankees over a hundred and fifty years ago. Other towns had bats in the belfry. We had Beulah in the bell tower.

“What’s going on with the newspaper?” I’d helped with the family paper in high school so I knew the routine. This was Tuesday. The Gazette should be already made up. If not, I’d need a miracle to launch this week’s edition by tomorrow.

He hung his head. A lot of gray silvered his hair. Seemed like he’d aged twenty years in the nine months since I’d last seen him.

“A fellow writes a few editorials, and everyone’s a critic,” Daddy said. “Cut me some slack here. I’ve got one heckuva hangover.”

I made a mental note to read those columns as I parked in front of our two-story Victorian home. “That reporter still with you?”

“Robert quit months ago.”

Swallowing a bitter retort, I helped my father up the porch steps. I should’ve been reading the online edition to follow the news from home, but I stayed so busy, I’d deleted the latest links unread.

White paint curls furred the plank siding and the gingerbread trim. “The house needs work.”

“So it does.” Dad grunted and continued to his bed, nudging his shoes off with his toes. “Ellen’s at the paper.”

My dad’s assistant had been two years ahead of me in school. According to Aunt Fay’s emails, Ellen’s divorce had been finalized six months ago.

“I’ll check in with her next. Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

I lugged my suitcase in and then drove up River Road to the brick newspaper building. The shoulder of the road by the Gazette was jammed with cars. What now?

Bailey and I hurried into the Gazette. “Ellen?” My voice echoed through the building. How odd. Maybe Ellen was out back. With growing unease, I clipped on Bailey’s leash and trotted out the side door to the waterfront. A murmur from the crowd reached me just before the Danville River Bridge. A pungent odor brought tears to my eyes, and a dark stain marred the embankment. Summer flies buzzed.

I threaded my way through the throng, my dog at my side until Ellen Mattingly snagged my arm. Despite the August heat, my father’s assistant looked cucumber-cool in her khaki pants and white blouse. Long hair hung down her back.

“Lindsey,” Ellen said. “Hold up. This is a crime scene.”

“Hey. Good to see you.” I hugged her. “What’s the story here?”

Moisture brimmed in her blue eyes. “Judge Alan Sterling is dead.”

News reporting ran in my veins, but I wasn’t prepared for this. “Oh, no. What happened?”

“Leroy Brown over at the shrimp docks saw him before all the cops arrived.” Tears rolled down her face. “Judge Sterling was stabbed to death.”

My thoughts hit turbocharge. The judge was dead. Really, truly dead. Stabbed. Not an accident.

I patted Ellen’s back. “It’s going to be all right.”

My gaze traveled to the concrete pillars supporting the Danville Bridge. Overhead traffic thumped by in a blur. I understood their haste. Ten years ago I felt the same need to hurry out of town.

Bailey tugged the leash out of my palm and bolted inside the forbidden zone. My stomach knotted as she headed straight for the dead man.

No Second Chance

No Second Chance by Award-Winning Author Maggie Toussaint

 


Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
This title is being reissued.
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Available Formats: eBook
Digital:
Hope Farrier rescues unwanted horses, but she’s saddled with debt. Without help she’ll lose Second Chance Farm, the first home she’s ever known. An endowment brings the promise of future relief and the presence of shrewd business manager, Devlin Temple. Trouble is Devlin has his dreamy blue eyes on more than her bottom line.

Playboy Devlin Temple lays a trap for the thief that’s fleecing his company. When his cousin sets his cap for Devlin’s job, Devlin needs Hope’s help to secure the CEO position. In her arms he finds the solace he craves, but their blossoming romance prompts the thief to raise the stakes.

Will Devlin and Hope pay the ultimate price for love?

Proceeds from this book will benefit a real life horse rescue farm in Lisbon, MD. Day’s End Farm Horse Rescue rescues horses from all over the country. Their mission: Fostering compassion and responsibility for horses through intervention, education, and outreach. Visit www.defhr.org to find out more about this worthy cause.

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bookcover_ofthe_year
No Second Chance won the Stepping Stones Magazine cover contest in August 2008.
Click here
for more information.
Thanks to artist Kimberlee Mendoza for creating such an award winning cover.
“What a totally fabulous read this was! … It’s been a long time since I’ve read a book totally in one sitting, but I just couldn’t put this one down. It is an exciting romantic suspense novel with some sensual content that is presented as a natural part of the story line. Toussaint makes the struggles and heart wrenching challenges of animal rescue work come alive through Hope, a brave and likable character who has overcome much personal adversity already in her life. Fears that she learned early haunt her, making her current situation all the more poignant. Devlin is a man with a good heart who is allowing the stresses and problems of his mother’s company to take over his life. Unlike many workaholic characters, Devlin is immediately endearing for his honorable motivations of love for his mother and desire to keep the family business stable during this time of transition and trouble. This book is a keeper for me.” — Crystal at CK2SKWIPSANDKRITIQUES, Five stars and a Recommended Read

“As romance novels go, this one is very good. Usually when reading books with horse references in them, I am driven nuts by the silly things the authors include that do not make sense to a real horse person. Maggie Toussaint, formerly of Frederick, obviously knows one end of a horse from the other. The book comes complete with handsome hero, a damsel in distress, a little mystery and a happy ending! The plot was very good and a little twist at the end was a nice surprise. A great gift for the romance lover in your life.” Caroline Del Grosso, THE EQUIERY

“…The plot is tight, slowing down in the right places to allow the reader to breath before picking up again. Hope is a likable heroine. She’s down to earth and has a hard-driving work ethic. She’s loyal to the ones she loves. Devlin is a little more complicated. His motivation is his family and his family is TES. Devlin’s not used to having deep feelings, and Hope can’t help wondering if his attraction to her is genuine or if it’s motivated by her owning a piece of his company. The supporting cast compliments Hope and Devlin well. Maggie Toussaint paints a wonderful visual of Hope and Devlin’s world using a good economy of words. Her love scenes are tasteful and not overly graphic, making the story sweet and sensual. Toussaint has an easy writing style that engages the reader. NO SECOND CHANCE is a riveting romantic suspense that keeps the reader on the edge of their seat.” —Steph at Classic Romance Revival

“Wonderful, exciting and suspenseful story. I read it all in one sitting because I just had to find out who the villain was and why he wanted to harm the heroine Hope and her mistreated horses refuge. She was a caring and generous person who was prepared to make great sacrifices for the animals she loved.

Devlin the hero, was wealthy, handsome, everything a hero should be. I have to confess I didn’t like him over much for the first few pages, but I soon fell in love with him, just as Hope did. A man who was so caring and worried about his mother’s wellbeing, well it didn’t take long for me to have a change of heart.” — Margaret Tanner, author of THE TROUBLE WITH PLAYBOYS

“I’m glad I took the first chance to read No Second Chance. Caught up in their story, I read the whole book in one sitting. If you have a quiet evening to curl up with a good book and you enjoy suspense, horses, Cinderella stories or all three — this book will satisfy.” —LONG AND SHORT REVIEWS

“…an enjoyable story with a likable couple and intriguing situations.” — Sandra Garcia-Myers, ROMANTIC TIMES

“…NO SECOND CHANCE is a fabulous contemporary romance with an intriguing social issue involving the rescue of horses; in fact the book proceeds are being donated to the real Day’s End Farm Horse [sic] rescuing mission. The story line is fast-paced from the onset and never slows down until the final confrontation…” — Harriet Klausner, reviewer

“…NO SECOND CHANCE has equal parts of suspense and romance with no indication who the thief could be (Ray seems a little too obvious). Devlin and Hope are both likeable characters, and the story moves along at a good pace. It is a tale that will please most contemporary romance readers.” — Marilyn Heyman, ROMANCE REVIEWS TODAY

“Five Stars! NO SECOND CHANCE by Maggie Toussaint is a suspense driven ride through the urban Baltimore boardroom and the pastures of rural Maryland. As Hope and Devlin race to discover the unknown villain attempting to ruin both their businesses, sparks of the very best kind fly between them. I loved the unique backdrop of Second Chance Farm, a rehab. farm for old or injured horses. A great read!” – Victoria Daniels, author

“NO SECOND CHANCE sparkles and sizzles from the boardroom to the bedroom to the barn. Hope and Devlin team up on a dangerous journey to save their respective businesses while a determined villain tries to destroy them. A fast-paced story you’ll want to stay up all night reading.” – Liana Laverentz, award winning author of JAKE’S RETURN

“Corporate Boardroom meets Country! Suspense keeps you turning pages, romance keeps your heart pounding. You’ll be glad you picked up No Second Chance by Maggie Toussaint.” – M.K. Trent, author of LOCKING HORNS

“Suspense…steamy romance…a surprising twist…No Second Chance has it all. Maggie Toussaint writes a heart-warming tale that will keep you riveted and rooting for her heroine – right to the very last page.” – Karna Small Bodman, thriller author of GAMBIT

Extras

 

Excerpt

Someone was watching her.

Hope Farrier’s nerves pinged as her mount skittered across the riding ring. The prickle of awareness that slid across the back of her neck wasn’t going away.

She glanced over at the dense hardwood forest that bordered her farm. Nothing unusual there.
The thin chestnut snorted and tossed his head up, tugging the reins from her hands. “Easy, Jocko,” she crooned. “It’s all right.”

Someone was out there. She was sure of it. After another lap around the ring she had Jocko at a slow trot and risked another glance at the perimeter. No one by the woods, but a tall man in a dark business suit stood by the barn.

A business suit. Old fears resurfaced. Men in suits came from foster care. From funeral homes. From foreclosing banks. Men in suits were bad news.

He raised a hand in greeting.

She shivered. Who was he? What did he want at Second Chance Farm?

***

House Of Lies

House Of Lies by Award-Winning Author Maggie Toussaint

 


Publisher: this book is being reissued
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Available Formats: eBook and Print
Digital:
Independent Hannah Montgomery doesn’t want the cottage her father left her in the remote Catoctin Mountains. She wanted his love. But he’s dead and it’s too late to mend his broken promises.

She travels to the cottage and there meets a broken and wounded ex-CIA agent, Jake Sutherland, who is fulfilling his promise to D.C. Montgomery to help his daughter. As she settles her father’s estate, Hannah is reluctantly fascinated by her father’s mysterious friend.

Unknown to both of them, the woman who betrayed Jake and killed D.C. is coming after Jake. Caught in a web of deceit, Hannah must choose who to believe. Will she risk her heart – and her life – to learn the truth about her secretive father?

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Reviews

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House of Lies is a double finalist (best romantic suspense, best first novel) in the National Readers Choice Awards
“A classic romance in House of Lies Maggie Toussaint pens a romantic tale of deceit, danger, and murder” – T.A. Ridgell, author of FRACTURED SOULS

“Sparks fly as two well-crafted characters tangle with a crafty villain in House of Lies. Maggie Toussaint is an author to watch” – Tracy Montoya, Harlequin Intrigue author of FINDING HIS CHILD

“Maggie Toussaint is a fresh voice filled with talent and characters that step off the page” ndash; Diana Cosby, author of HIS CAPTIVE

“The perfect blend of heart-warming romance and suspense. House of Lies is a book you’ll definitely want to curl up with” ndash; Gail Barrett, award winning author

“House of Lies is a tender tale of redemption, forgiveness – and romance” br /> – Hope Tarr, author of THE HAUNTING

“A yummy hero. A yummy romance. An intriguing mystery. What could be better? Maggie Toussaint gives us an enjoyable read” – Diane Gaston, RITA-award winning author

“Maggie Toussaint’s House of Lies was surprisingly poignant for a romantic suspense novel, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s been sitting on my bookshelf for a month but once I got started I couldn’t put it down. I just needed to find out that secret. Well Done” – A. Jefferson of Richmond VA, posted to Amazon.com

“Like a donut’s cream-filled center, Maggie Toussaint’s debut novel contains secretive pleasures” ndash; Darlene Gardner, Harlequin SuperRomance author

“I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was choc full of excitement and intrigue and the plot was very well written. I felt like I was pulled into the world the author created. I especially enjoyed the amazing amount of detail that was put into the character development. From the occupations of the main characters, to their favorite hobbies and everything in between, I loved the subtle and very accurate description of the characters’ emotions and thought processes. The information didn’t seem overwhelming. It was concise, but so true to the characters and the situations they were in. I was highly impressed by this. I would definitely give this book as a gift. This genre isn’t usually one of my favorites, but I enjoyed this book very much. I was engrossed in the characters and loved how strong the heroine was. I would highly recommend it to anyone”
– Sweeter Romantic Notions (Note: the highest rating at SRN is ‘I would give this book as a gift!’)

“House of Lies by Maggie Toussaint is an exciting romantic suspense. Poignantly written, it touches on the emotional aspects of parental abandonment and the courage necessary to face the truth. The romance between Hannah and Jake is exceptionally well-developed and Hannah’s mother, Libby, is a sensitive character who added much to the story. I truly loved House of Lies and look forward to reading more novels this highly talented new author” -Linda Morelli, author and reviewer at http://www.lindamorelli.us

“Five stars! A wonderful read from the first page through to the last! Wonderful characters and a stunning plot make this a keeper that just couldn’t be put down until I reached the last page and even then I wanted more. Maggie Toussaint is clearly a rising talent and I’ll certainly be first in line for her future works” – Ellen Dye of Bloomery, WV, posted on www.thewildrosepress.com

“Five stars. House of Lies grabbed me from the start when it thrusts together the two main characters after the death of the female’s father. The interest between them kept the same pace throughout, while also exploring the all-too-common curiosity of a person who grew up feeling distant from a parent. The author has done a great job of interweaving romance, suspense, and this same empathy for the main character. Keeps you guessing up until the very end when the final “secret” is revealed” – Sheila Langley of Jacksonville, FL, posted on Amazon.com


Excerpt

© Copyright 2006 – Maggie Toussaint

The rawhide ties of her loosely laced long sleeved shirt held his attention, as did the snug jeans skimming her petite frame. Heavy hiking boots completed her attire.

“Jacob Sutherland?” she asked as she briskly mounted the four shallow steps leading to the porch.

Limping forward, he inclined his head. “Call me Jake.”

“I’m Hannah Montgomery.” After she shook his hand, she shoved her hands into her pockets. “How do you manage this mountainous terrain with a cane?”

The concern in her tone irritated him. He didn’t want her sympathy. His stupid leg injury was the reason her father was dead. Every ache, every twinge, reminded him of his unfinished business.

Unfinished business that he meant to finish.

He shrugged. “It isn’t a problem.”

“I’m sorry for only giving you a few hours notice, but I had an unexpected opening in my schedule. My job has a tendency to take over my life.”

Her words glossed over her three month delay, making it appear that she was glad to finally be here. But he knew otherwise. Her closed body language and that flicker of annoyance in her eyes suggested she didn’t want to be here at all. Too bad.

***