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When marine buddy, Gulfport, Mississippi Sheriff asks Craige Ingram for help, Ingram and Buckingham Parish patrolman ‘Badger’ Thomas Boback find themselves in the summertime dogdays of the humid Gulf Coast. With crowded beaches and an undermanned staff, a routine investigation soon becomes anything but routine when indescribable body parts start showing up along the surf, in beachfront cabins, half-buried in bayou wetlands, stashed under freeway bridges, and across county lines. Craige’s search for answers to identifying victims and killer among the crowds of tourists and skin-and-sun partygoers soon makes it obvious the victims have no connection with one another—until conflicting DNA results and haunting premonitions resembling the warnings Craige’s grannie often had become part of the investigation. The jigsaw of abandoned cross-kin offspring begin a horrifying Gordian Knot tangle that threatens anyone who approaches the shadowy ancient wreck of an old mansion - an asylum from a lost time.
EXCERPT TWO:
Romona Cowan stepped back and looked at her handiwork. Black goop, flaxseed, and smelly oil-based paint dripped from the brush in her hand. With two fingers she gingerly propped the framed sign against the rusty decorative iron corner post. The sign canted off-center on the post, a singular reminder of the elegance of the iron fence that once stood around the small postage-stamp of a front yard. She took another look. Fingers, hands, one sleeve of her work shirt, and yard jeans were paint-smeared. Days ago, when she brushed the leaf litter off the fallen sign, the lettering was hardly visible, and she thought she might have to buy wood for a new sign. Penny-wise Ramona decided on a can of paint instead. The paint had peeled, left the frame bare in spots, but it hadn’t rotted. For someone who’d always been told she could never do nothing right, her Gran’mère Nana’s fixed-up sign come out looking nice and bright. The letters came out wobbly in a couple of places, but from the street no one would notice. She gave it a last here and-there touch-up.
Madame Nana Rowena
PALMISTRY READINGS by appointment
She said to herself, “Nana doesn’t want to do readings anymore. I’ll tell anyone that comes in I’m her granddaughter, Mademoiselle Ra mona.” With a soft mumble, “No point changing what ever’body expects.” She’d put the sign out in the sun and take it inside at night. Let it dry a couple or three days, then stick it out in the front yard where Gran’mère Nana first put it up. Right out there where folks driving along the beach in their fancy cars could see it real clear. The sign looked almost brand new. It would make those prissy rich kids that snobbed her in school because she was different jealous all over again. Besides, school was boring; a good enough reason to drop out.
AUTHOR BIO & LINK:
Cross-genre character-driven plots reflect Hawk MacKinney’s southwest upbringing along the Texas and Oklahoma borders. With postgraduate faculty positions in several medical universities, Hawk MacKinney has taught graduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem.
Website:
http://www.hawkmackinneyauthor.com
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