G.G. Collins's Blog

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Review by GG Collins          (Copyright November 2025)

Raised in the Colorado frontier of 1875 outside Golden City, Potter Evans doesn’t have a lot of choices. Of age, she is betrothed to a nearby rancher, Rad Scaithe. But when he visits, he mostly speaks with her father about the intricacies of ranching. Only a week before their wedding, Potter has yet to feel his love for her and is worried that he will never open up. After two years of courting, she’s having grave doubts this relationship can be successful.

And then there was the yellow ball gown. Rad picked it out for her and insisted she wear it to their engagement party. Potter hated yellow and refused to wear it. That was it, the engagement was off. She would not be told what to do even by her fiancé. Potter packs a bag and goes to the nearby Arapahoe village where she has friends.

This was the most interesting portion of the book for me as Huntley relates the ideals and beliefs of the tribe. Her descriptions of daily life inside the Arapahoe give depth and realism. You almost feel as if you could walk inside a teepee with Potter. Huntley did her research to give the reader a realistic view of life in a tribe.

Potter stays with the tribe and begins teaching English while studying Arapahoe. She also learns about the traditions of marriage in the tribe. It seems they are more knowledgeable than Potter and Rad. The tribe names her Running Doe, appropriate because she ran from Rad’s bluster. Things at the village get a little complicated when Potter finds that she has somehow been promised to Soaring Eagle. She disputes this and asserts she is going to university.

The Arapahoe chief tells Potter, “You are a joy. I understand a lot of things now that I’ve me you. I would like to call you ‘Running Doe.’”

There are other obstacles in their way. Tensions exist between some white settlers and the Arapahoe. Potter’s mother makes a horrible decision that has drastic results. A killer is massacring homesteaders and blaming the tribe. There doesn’t seem to be a way for the besotted couple to finally be married.

Be sure and read the chapter titles that Huntley uses to give the reader a preview of what is to come. Huntley is a multi-genre author writing romance, fantasy, mystery and paranormal. Enjoy this western romance and absorb a little history along with cowboy action and star-crossed lovers.

Book 2, Echoes of Betrayal is available now. Find her books at: https://tinyurl.com/jrecvcxs

Skinwalker Medium Finalist in New Mexico Book Awards

Word today from 2025 New Mexico Book Awards that Skinwalker Medium is a finalist in the Fiction: Mystery/Thriller category. My thanks to director, Lisa McCoy and the many people who read the books and voted their favorites. I’m thrilled to be among the talented authors who write about beautiful New Mexico and its history.

Finalist in New Mexico Books Awards. Read it at Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/4t257v6p

Rachel Learns Kiyiya’s Story

By GG Collins — Copyright 2024

Joseph, the Hopi shaman Rachel Blackstone met in the first book in this series, Reluctant Medium, tells Rachel the story of how Yiyiya came to be her power animal. The magical wolf alerts her to danger, communicates to her what to do and eventually fights for his life and hers in Skinwalker Medium. We start as she speaks with Joseph while walking a labyrinth in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Eddy is a friend, a defrocked priest, who helps her.

Open your eyes. Slowly, looking down first, she glimpsed a pair of bare feet. Having expected something military in nature, this confused her. When she raised her line of vision, there was Joseph standing before her, smiling with some amusement. His skin was brown from decades in the sun and his eyes laced with lines from squinting. He was a slight man, but a giant spiritually. Rachel could see aura glowing around him. Usually he wore the white aura of a spiritual guide, but today he it was the purest of blue which she knew to represent harmony and great understanding of people and other creatures.

A truly thoughtful gift from my friend Sharon who found this in Hatch, New Mexico during her yearly sojourn to buy chiles. Yiyiya howls on my desk inspiring my stories. My crystal ball stands in for a full moon. Thank you.

While he never spoke aloud, he was telling her a story. At first, she didn’t get it, but then it became clear he was talking about her spirit wolf, Kiyiya. The white wolf had been different all his life. Although his parents had been alphas in his family pack, and therefore he was deserving of respect, he had been aware that others judged him as unusual.

One day while drinking at a stream he took a moment to look at his reflection. He felt both exhilaration and shame at his differentness. He wanted to be like the other wolves. Troubled, he asked his mother why his fur was white as snow. She recognized his need for reassurance and told him white wolves were destined for greatness in the spirit world. Someday, he would understand why he had been created this way.

For several years, he lived with his pack, hunted with them, played with his siblings and howled into the night. It was a good life, but something seemed to be missing. On a particularly cold, crisp winter day, he arose early and strode up the rocks in search of food. Just as he was about to catch a rabbit he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

The falling was more frightening than painful, but as he continued to fall his rate of descent slowed and the terrain changed from mountainous to cloudy and then to night. He slowly righted himself as if he were a cat and landed on his feet in a place he didn’t know. A woman stood outside of a car in the middle of a big road. Confronted by a ghostly figure, she was alarmed. Instinctively, he knew she must be protected. His presence frightened the spirit away but also the woman. When he showed her no aggression she returned to her car to continue her way. Somehow he knew her journey was important.

In his new world he would shield others as well, but this woman was to be sheltered at all times. As he grew in the wisdom given by the Great Spirit, he learned ways of helping her when she was confused. His body could glow when light was needed. His shadow could change in size and shape. When he howled she knew that danger was near. She had much to learn, but he felt she had vital work to do.

And so he came to understand what his mother had told him. He was destined for greatness and he would do his very best to make her proud.

Rachel became cognizant of where she was and the tears streaming down her face. She began to sag but strong arms caught her.

Let me help you. Joseph found this way into her mind again. She felt sleepy and foggy and tried to shake it off.

“But what about the threshold?” Rachel said aloud. “Should I cross it?”

You will receive a message from the other side. It will come from an unlikely source. Be open to it. It will be true.

He was gone.

Rachel stepped over the stones and sat on a nearby bench. She was exhausted, drained. After resting for a few minutes, she returned to the parking lot where Eddy waited.

“Did you get what you needed?” he asked. “Was there an answer?”

“Yes,” she said. “It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but it was something I wanted to know.” She described meeting Joseph and what he said.

“That’s the way labyrinths work,” Eddy said. “In mysterious ways they channel knowledge we need.”

“I’m so tired.”

“You had a spiritual experience,” Eddy replied. “You have arrived.”

Passage from Atomic Medium in Chapter 13. Find Atomic Medium on Amazon. https://tinyurl.com/4fp2afcv

It’s the Season of the Witch. Are you Ready?          

Beginning Monday July 14, 2025 my book Skinwalker Medium goes on tour. I’m happy to announce that Bewitching Book Tours is hosting this outing for Rachel Blackstone and her friend Chloe Valdez.

One of the most feared mythological Native American creatures is the skinwalker. Trouble is it’s not a myth.

Rachel Blackstone, the Reluctant Medium, must stop this fearsome force before anyone else dies. But first, she must identify the connection to the New Mexico state penitentiary riot. Rachel calls on her friends Chloe, Mari-Lynn and her new Navajo acquaintance, ranger Dave Chee, to help her solve the mystery hidden in the petroglyphs and reveal the killer.

Bewitching Book Tours specialize in paranormal romance and urban fantasy. Skinwalker Medium falls into the latter category. Tour stops follow so you may visit these websites full of books and reviews. Happy reading!

July 14 Paranormalists(Guest Blog)
https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/

July 14 Roxanne’s Realm
http://www.roxannesrealm.blogspot.com

July 15 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom (Guest Blog)
http://creativelygreen.blogspot.com/

July 15 Sapphyria’s Books
https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/

July 16 The Book Junkie Reads (Interview)
https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blogspot.com/

July 16 Books1987
https://books0623.blogspot.com/    

July 17 Lisa’s World of Books
http://www.lisasworldofbooks.net/

July 17 Fang-tastic Books
http://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com

July 18 Bewitching Book Tours
https://bewitchingbooktours.tumblr.com/

July 18 Liliyana Shadowlyn
https://lshadowlynauthor.com  

July 21 A Bewitching Guide to Halloween
https://www.abewitchingguidetohalloween.com/

July 21 Supernatural Central (Interview)
http://supernaturalcentral.blogspot.com

July 21 Kim’s Book Reviews https://www.kimsbookreviewsandwritingahas.blog/

Santa Fe Penitentiary Riot: History Gets Heavier With Time

Skinwalker Medium                   

By G.G. Collins (Copyright 2025) Caution: These are actual details of the prison riot.

Old Main looked ominous as Rachel approached it from the parking lot. Paint peeled from its skin like a bad sunburn. One of the deadliest prison riots in United States history took place there February 2, 1980 at the Santa Fe State Penitentiary. After 36 hours of blood-soaked terror, it ended. Thirty-three people lost their lives in the most heinous ways imaginable and more would be traumatized for the rest of their days.

In February 1980, one of the worst prison riots in the US occurred in idyllic Santa Fe, NM. Since then, film companies and even ghost hunters have fled this site. There is no expiration date for hauntings.

Photo courtesy New Mexico Corrections Dept.

Rachel stood outside trying to get her feelings under control. Even many feet away from the entrance she was impacted by the suffering that had taken place years before. Reports of hauntings were frequent and believable. Film crews experienced clanging cell doors at night despite no electrical power to operate the doors. Mysterious human-like shadows had been described. Paranormal investigators who sat vigil swore never to return.

She walked past watch tower No. 1 and into Santa Fe’s ugly past, far from the tourists enjoying themselves while shopping for turquoise jewelry and sipping margaritas in the downtown plaza. The glitz of the City Different was only fifteen miles from this world: one of barbarism.

Inside, she waited notebook and recorder in hand for her guide. Shaking the dread was impossible. She observed the gift shop and couldn’t quite comprehend T-shirts from a penitentiary – even a closed one. A yellow T read “NMCD STATE Prisoner.” As Rachel explored she saw weapons on exhibit. Prisoners fashioned them from glass shards. The metal objects she thought to be shanks. All were on display in cases, the type one usually associated with trinkets. It was confounding to her to see these deadly shivs put on view but the prison was more of a museum now: a place to learn about what happens when the worst of humanity goes on a rampage. Black and white photos showed scenes before and after the riot.

“Hello, I’m Ernesto Pacheco,” a man said.

Engrossed, Rachel started.

“Sorry, to surprise you,” he said. “I understand you are here to tour the facility for an article your magazine is publishing.”

He looked kindly. Rachel guessed him retirement age. His tanned skin had the lines of a lived-in face. His eyes were deep brown and his hair was mostly silver. She liked him. While she couldn’t always judge a person on first impression, her reporter’s intuition had become reasonably dependable.

 “Yes, I’m Rachel Blackstone with High Desert Country Magazine,” she shook his hand. It was a good handshake, not too strong, not wimpy. Sincere. She handed him her card, which he slid into his shirt pocket without reading. It was plaid – the shirt. Cream and burgundy and it topped a pair of worn jeans. His feet were outfitted in hiking shoes, a frequent foot covering in the Santa Fe area.

“I don’t think your magazine has covered the prison before,” he said. “Most visitors are young thrill seekers who don’t fully grasp what happened here. They tour the facility, ask questions and go back to the plaza for drinks and burritos.”

His voice was slow and soft. Rachel warmed to him. He had a gentle, calm way about him. He seemed to sense her unease.

“You’re correct, we haven’t done a story on the riot before,” Rachel said. “I’ve been with them almost from the beginning.”

 “You’ll probably prefer to pass on the mug shot?”

Rachel was astonished and horrified.

“Really?” she asked.

“Most of the tourists like it.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Let’s begin the tour,” Ernesto gestured. “If you’ll follow me.”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“You’ve seen our shop,” he said. “Some people find it off-putting. I don’t blame them. We’ll bypass the courtyard and get straight to it.”

He showed her the administrative offices first.

“This is where the rioters destroyed all the records,” Ernesto pointed to an office with crime scene tape across the door opening.

Rachel followed him as he made a left turn. They passed two cellblocks and several dormitories. Near the end of the hall, he stopped.

“This is Dormitory E,” he said. “It was 1:40 a.m. when inmates high on prison-made hooch – consisting of water, sugar, fruit and yeast and mixed in a garbage bag – accosted two guards, took their guns and keys. The two guards were inexperienced. In those days prison officials tended to give them a uniform and tell them they were guards. With those keys, the prison became the inmate’s playground.

Example of an Old Main Cellblock. The overcrowding was a riot waiting to happen.

Photo courtesy New Mexico Corrections Dept.

“To make matters worse,” Ernesto continued. “The most dangerous offenders – those who spent most of their time locked up in individual cells had been moved to this dormitory while their Cellblock 5 was under renovation.

“You’ll notice,” he pointed to the clock. “At each place we stop the clocks have been permanently set to the time an incident happened in that area.”

Ernesto reversed and showed Rachel back down the corridor.

“At 2:02 a.m. rioters broke through the reinforced windows of the control center,” he said. “At that point, they were in command of the entire penitentiary. From there, they pillaged the pharmacy and added drugs to their already drunken state. Within a short time, prisoners had found cutting torches and set fires in the gym and administrative offices. Then felons were released from Cellblock Three.”

“How were they able to breach the control center?” Rachel asked. “Was there no bullet-proof glass to protect the staff from this kind of thing?”

“The glass was bullet-resistant, but despite that they were able to break through in less than five minutes using fire extinguishers to smash the glass.  

“The atrocities that occurred next were inhumane by anyone’s standards,” Ernesto continued. “The rioters opened neighboring Cellblock 4 where the snitches, child molesters and those in protective custody were housed.

“Normally we don’t show Cellblock Four. Since you’re working on a legitimate story, I’ve been given permission to take you in there. No photos please.”

Rachel agreed. Julian, the High Desert Magazine publisher and her employer had insisted she carry a cell phone for her safety, but she wasn’t sure she knew how to take a photo even if she wanted to. Yes, she was tech-challenged.

As they approached Cellblock 4, the feeling of dread took on a whole new level. Her legs wanted to run and blood pounded in her head. Ernesto stood aside the door. She was hit with what felt like wind. Only this was the collective rage of inmates driven to kill. It was primitive and palpable. She could hear the screams of those being assaulted and murdered. Some begged for their mothers.

Rachel slipped her recorder into her jacket pocket. Her notebook fell to the floor. Ernesto picked it up and held it out to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Uh, yes,” Rachel replied. “It’s overwhelming.”

“Not everyone feels that,” he said. “Most come here as a result of what we call dark tourism. They may not respect the loss of life or the deplorable conditions that led to the massacre. It’s just another sight to see.

“Do you still want to go in?” he asked.

“Yes,” Rachel heard herself say it but she had to force her feet to move inside. It was stifling. The air was acrid and felt thick with death. Her lungs resisted. It wasn’t oxygen that could support life. The stench of smoke and blood remained.

Ernesto showed her the marks cut into the floor where an inmate was killed and the permanent burn marks where another met his fate.

“When it was over, about 36 hours of brutality,” he said. “Thirty-three men had lost their lives in the most awful ways. All were 40 or younger. One was nineteen.”

The agony and weeping continued to emanate from the cellblock as if the horror was occurring in that moment. She did a partial turn to take it all in. The bodies, burned mattresses, and blood-soaked cellblocks had been cleaned of most of the evidence that remained after the massacre. Only the scarred floor contained the visible proof that something horrific had occurred here. Otherwise, everything had been thrown away. It was empty, but it didn’t feel empty. Thirty-three souls remained forever in this place. She could envision all of it. Inundated with ghastly emotions, she turned away. A shadow moved near the end of the cells.

“What was that?” she asked her hand to her mouth.

“What did you see?” Ernesto said.

“Looked like a shadow. Human-shaped, and wearing something bulky, maybe a cape.”

“We, the Hopi and other Indian Nations, call them shadow people,” he said. “They are frequently malevolent. They exist all over the prison. The worst are here where most of the bloodshed took place.”

“I have to leave,” she said. As quickly as she stepped out of the Cellblock 4 the screams lifted and she was able to steady herself.

“Most people aren’t so viscerally affected,” Ernesto said. He reached to touch her shoulder. “But I am one of them. A couple of the guides have similar reactions to this particular block. I understand what you’re feeling.”

“What is that breeze I feel? Is there a draft?” Rachel asked

“No, it is a dark wind,” Ernesto explained. “The Navajo define it as ‘out of control.’ It destroys judgment. We mustn’t stay here long.  

“This way to the entrance,” he added.

When they reached the lobby, Rachel was relieved.

“Let’s go outside,” Ernesto opened the door for her.

One of three guard towers to oversee prisoners allowed outside. The final gripping scene occurs here.

Photo courtesy New Mexico Corrections Dept.

They stepped out into the sunlight. Rachel felt the heaviness lift from her body.

“About what you saw; the one you described as wearing a cape,” Ernesto said. “Now that we are safely away from it, I can explain.”

“What do you mean, safely away?”

“Cellblock 4 is haunted as you witnessed,” Ernesto said. “These entities are dangerous.”

“What is it?” Rachel asked.

“It is called yee naaldlooshii.” Ernesto said.

“Is that Navajo?” Rachel was puzzled.

 “Yes, if you would allow me?” He asked for her notebook. “It is spelled like this and pronounced thusly.” He returned the tablet.

Rachel looked at what he had written: Yee naaldlooshii; yee-nahld-loo-shee. He’d added the phonetic pronunciation.

“What is it?” she asked.

“In English, it is called a skinwalker,” he said. “Skinwalkers are malicious witches. They have much power to do evil. Most American Indians have their version. Some call them a wendigo. In the Southwest we know them a skinwalkers. Most Navajo, Hopi and Ute will not even speak the word. It is inviting trouble. Bad trouble. I tell you this now only because you saw it.

“It would be prudent not to include this in the article,” Ernesto continued. “It could bring down the power of the beast onto you and those you love.”

“I promise you, I will not write about it,” Rachel said. “Thank you for the warning.”

Rachel knew it couldn’t be a part of the story anyway. Julian kept to fact-based stories. She had left out things before when writing stories for the publication. The last thing she wanted was to endanger anyone.

“What is one doing here?” Rachel asked purposely not saying the word.

“I would say one of the family members of the prisoners killed or the guards who were traumatized have become one to exact revenge,” he said.

“Wait please.” He walked back into the lobby and returned a few seconds later. “Since you saw it, I think you should have this.”

He placed an arrowhead in her palm.

“This is black obsidian; it will protect you. It is born of volcanoes deep within the Earth. Keep it on you at all times.”

Rachel thanked him for his time and the protective crystal. Once in her car, she sat still and tried to shake off the trepidation. It wasn’t happening again. It wasn’t.

Take the tour here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9jA7uKX0MA

Four Corners Mystery Thriller

Introductory sale ($1.99) one day only for new book Skinwalker Medium. See ad in eReaderIQ.

Rachel’s interview subjects are turning up dead, but only those connected to a certain story: the Santa Fe Penitentiary riot of 1980. It’s beginning to look as if something malevolent is involved and it’s threatening everyone linked with the story. Rachel, the Reluctant Medium, must learn Navajo ways to prevent another horrific death – maybe even her own.

It’s the season of the witch. Are you ready?

Nominated for the New Mexico Book Award.

Get your copy https://tinyurl.com/3b2498ud

Season of the Witch

Never look a skinwalker in the eyes. It will control your thoughts and your physical body. It may even kill you by blowing corpse powder into your face.

Rachel’s interview subjects are turning up dead, but only those connected to a certain story: the Santa Fe Penitentiary riot of 1980. It’s beginning to look like something malevolent is involved and it’s threatening everyone linked with the story. Rachel, the Reluctant Medium, must learn Navajo ways to prevent another horrific death – maybe even her own.

The vastness of the Four Corners region is only surpassed by its ancientness.

Photo Credit: By U.S. Geological Survey – https://www.flickr.com/photos/27784370@N05/14465655209/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34570354

Set against the sweeping vistas of the Four Corners in the American Southwest, Navajo wisdom will be required to solve the mystery of the petroglyph clues. As a legendary creature stalks the city streets and remote highways it becomes imperative that Rachel discover who is behind the mysterious deaths. Somehow, they all lead back in time to the prison riot.

Coming Soon: Skinwalker Medium. Now’s a good time to catch the rest of the Rachel Blackstone Paranormal Mysteries. At Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/yy7v7zsy

MG Cobbett Goes the Distance for Writers

By GG Collins Copyright 2024

If you’re on Twitter or another social media site where Welch author M.G. Cobbett is a member you’ve probably seen how she nurtures authors, in fact, she had been supporting creatives since 2017.

Virtually every day, Cobbett posts lifts for writers, promotes books she loves and brings some fun to a site that isn’t always known for kindness.

Every month she invites writers to submit their books and she chooses one to buy and review. Now this is a win-win deal. The author gets a sale – and we all love those – plus she reads and reviews their book on her website “Cobbett’s Literary Rides” https://www.cobbettsbooks.co.uk/. There she creates an author page where the author’s bio and her book review are featured.

This endeavour has been so successful that Cobbett added a YouTube review channel. You can find it at  https://www.youtube.com/@M.G.Cobbett/videos?app=desktop. Head over and subscribe. It’s brand new.

Now, that would be enough, but her friend Terry Melia at “Greenhills Chats” podcast has a regular conversation with her and she gives each author a mention. They have fun and you will too. Check it out at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCn25ESKqquyKEIpg7avydJA

I’m not certain how she does it all but Cobbett is also an author and has written The Verona College Series under the name M.G. Cobbett.

The Verona College Series is a hit with the teen and YA crowd. And those of us who remember. See my review: https://tinyurl.com/bdhv4x7t

If you’re looking for a literary friend, follow @M_Cobbett71 on Twitter (X) and while you’re there give me a follow too @GGCollins1.

Editor Kill Fee Cozy Mystery Lands on Reading List in Strand Magazine

Strand Magazine has it’s roots in England in 1891 where it enjoyed contributors like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Winston Churchill and Queen Victoria. Later, it ran the works of Agatha Christie, Ernest Hemingway and one of my favorites Shirley Jackson. In 1998 The Strand resurfaced from Farmington Hills, MI. And while that’s no where near the UK, a closer look reveals the new incarnation of the magazine had honored its roots. The cover design is instantly recognizable. I found that we still had several copies of The Strand from an earlier subscription. And hey, check out the formerly unpublished story by Rod Serling “First Squad, First Platoon.”

Which brings me to my news. The Strand asked for a review copy of Editor Kill Fee and will be adding it to their upcoming reading list. I couldn’t be more thrilled. Thank you Andrew Gulli for your interest.

A quick synopsis of Editor Kill Fee: When the president of the local Santa Fe Mystery Readers Club goes missing, mystery editor Taylor Browning starts her unofficial inquiries. After talking with a club member, Taylor learns the president had a secret. She has been moonlighting moving the prized chile, the Mayan Death Pepper, throughout northern New Mexico. Did this nocturnal activity link with her disappearance? Suspicion and paranoia threaten to pull the book club apart. When the clues lead to Santa Fe, Taylor’s friend Det. Sanchez steps in. Jim Wells, her coworker, takes her on a field trip to the mysterious Devil’s Road where multiple people have gone and never returned. Will the legendary Pecos Triangle claim more victims?

Publisher’s Weekly had this to say about Editor Kill Fee: “Collins’s clever third mystery featuring Taylor Browning finds the New Mexico book editor investigating a pair of missing persons. It’s ideal for poolside reading.”

You can read it for yourself by clicking here: https://tinyurl.com/3crr9enf

Paranormal Ghost Romance Is Criminal

by GG Collins Copyright 2024

Helen G. Huntley has written an engaging story taking place after the stock market crash but before WWII. Her prose will take you inside a crime syndicate and reveal a man who would be king despite inexperience. The anarchy is laced with romance and a few spooks.

Having spent most of his school years in Europe, Michael Dashiell returns home to Warrick, Rhode Island in 1935. His plans are to take over the local hospital from a long-time doctor who is ready to retire. Although he is prepared to be a doctor, he isn’t primed to become a gangster.

His homecoming is marred when his father is gunned down, mob style, before he can prepare his son for what is to come. Among his last words is the combination to the safe where Michael will find everything he needs to know. That and a cryptic promise he will continue watching over him. The future looks grim as Michael tries to deal with his new reality.  

“What’s troublin’ ya, Clarence? Ye look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Clinton taunted.

But all is not lost; there is the lovely Sylvia who is a nurse at the hospital. Unfortunately she is the daughter of his father’s sworn enemy, Dante Savino. Savino wastes no time in making Michael’s life complicated, but Michael finds he can step into the role of gangster with little trouble. He’s smarter than Savino. Savino is so old-school that he is willing to sell his daughter to the highest bidder.

That brings us to the ghosts. Remember Michael’s father pledged to continue watching over him? He keeps his promise by gliding in and out of Michael’s life giving him a push just before someone fired at him. Clinton Dashiell enjoys his new found freedom to come and go without being seen.

You’ll love these characters, but get ready for Alfred, the butler. He’s seen out a number of unpleasant guests. Although in a supporting role, he is worth his every scene. Huntley titles each of her chapters giving the reader a hint of what is to come. That’s an exciting look into the world of ‘thirties gangster life when the murder rate was the highest ever in the U.S.

Enjoy the mayhem.

Get your copy here: https://tinyurl.com/2jfpe5x7