P Is For Poison, Problem, Protagonist and ...

P is for poison. Always a good murder weapon. The problem it creates for the protagonist, especially, if he or she is not a forensic expert, is daunting or could be.

In Cauldron our protagonist worries about vampires and mind control and…fact of ruse?  Could there really be vampires? What happened to her friend so off the wall terrorized one minute and zombie like calm a day later. An institution that hides her away or was she murdered? 

Before the end of the book the Cauldron of poison, problems and protagonist is stirred, boiled, and solved as any good mystery/suspense would be. The journey is yours for the taking--if you dare. {insert sinister laugh here "broohahaha!"}

Would you care to begin your exploration today? Read the first chapter here –be sure your doors and windows are locked and shades drawn first, just in case….

Cauldron’s name seemed apt. True to the boiling turmoil that increased daily in the small town. “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men --The Shadow Knows,” Tiffany knew. But who was that illusive shadow man? With the creaking of that door from the old radio program, shudders ran the length of her spine as if on icy fingers. What had Cauldron become, that thought made that same trek op her spine now.

Excerpt From Chapter One

Tiffany drove over to the library where they had an extensive historical archive in the basement of the new building. It fascinated Tiffany from the minute she had arrived in town. Surely, she would find information about the Chase family there.

The stodgy librarian looked over her half glasses and showed a who-do-you-think-you-are attitude. “I have a project to restore the Chase Mansion. I’m an interior designer. I figured it would be easier if I could find some history of the family, perhaps some photos of what the house looked like before the Moores took it over.”

Mrs. Sartorus stood up; her scowl deepened. She pointed to her watch, “We close in two hours. None of the archive files can be removed from the premises.” Her starched, abrupt manner didn’t disappear.

“That isn’t a problem.” Tiffany felt like a student being reprimanded for breathing or anything else deemed inappropriate by this particular adult.

The woman acted like she owned the files or the building or both and that any intrusion was more than a bother to her. She unlocked the door and turned on the lights as they went down the creaky stairs. In a newer building you would think the stairs would be silent, especially in a library. Chills ran the length of Tiffany’s body. The librarian turned on the green desk lamp at one of the high podium-type desks. The atmosphere seemed to suggest a Dickens Christmas Carol rather than a newer library basement.

“This is the best place to read.” She nearly ordered Tiffany to use the spot she chose for her. “What files would you like to start with?”

“When did the last Chase family member die?” Tiffany’s voice cracked because of the dank mustiness of the earthy basement smell.

Mrs. Sartorus waddled over to a tall file shelf and removed a stack of newspapers. “These should get you started.” She plopped them on the podium desk and headed toward the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything. You have...” She looked at her watch again. “About forty five minutes.”

The Archives closed ahead of the main floor of the library, which only allowed her forty five minutes to try to discover what she wanted to know. The librarian turned on her heel and marched back across the room and up the stairs. Tiffany jumped when the door slammed shut. She didn’t know she would be locked in the room, but it wouldn’t surprise her if the woman had locked the door. A stereotypical librarian from an old, old movie. She began to peruse the papers. A draft circulated the musky smell of the room. Tiffany wished she could take the papers to a more comfortable spot to read them. The room felt like it was closing in on her. She looked down at the paper, and the face of Sadie Chase Moore, pale and frail, stared back at her. Sadie stood over a coffin. The woman in the coffin looked like a carbon copy of Sadie but with wrinkles saddening her face. Something brushed by Tiffany’s face. She turned to see what the intrusion was. No one was there.

Suddenly, she had had enough of the library. Maybe another day she’d research the Chase family tree. She hurriedly put the papers back where the librarian had pulled them and practically flew up the stairs. She could swear she heard laughter as she opened the door at the top of the stairs. The woman at the desk grinned. The grin wasn’t a smile; it was a sneer. It was as if the woman knew what Tiffany would encounter in the basement room with the Chase’s past safely tucked between the walls of its cellar. “I’ll be back another time,” Tiffany offered. The woman didn’t bother with an answer, just the sneer, which stuck in Tiffany’s mind and followed her out the door.

P. S.  You will find Cauldron anywhere you normally buy your books or go to Wings Press where the price is always the best anywhere and all the formats you could possibly want are available right there. Sign up for my newsletter The Mystery Readers Connection to stay up to date on new authors, news and other tidbits you won't find anywhere else.