Heartache Motel by Terri L. Austin, Larissa Reinhart, LynDee Walker ~ My Thoughts

Heartache Motel

Heartache Motel: Three Interconnected Mystery Novellas by Terri L. Austin, Larissa Reinhart, LynDee Walker
Print and e-book, 214 pages
Published December 8th 2013 by Henery Press

Elvis has left the building, but he’s forever memorialized at the Heartache Motel. Filled with drag queens, Rock-a-Hula cocktails, and a vibrating velveteen bed, these three novellas tell the tales of three amateur sleuths who spend their holidays at the King’s beloved home.

Diners, Keepers, Losers, Weepers by Terri L. Austin
A Rose Strickland Mystery Novella (follows Diner Impossible)

When Rose and the gang head to Graceland right before Christmas, they get all shook up: the motel is a seedy dump and an Elvis impersonator turns up dead. Rose discovers missing jewels tie into the death and her suspicious mind flips into overdrive, questioning her fellow guests, the staff, and even a cute impersonator who keeps popping up. Will Rose be able to find the murderer and get home by Christmas day? It’s now or never.

Quick Sketch by Larissa Reinhart
A Cherry Tucker Mystery Novella (prequel to Portrait of a Dead Guy)

Sassy Southern artist Cherry Tucker and her poker-loving boyfriend, Todd, pop into Memphis to help Todd’s cousin who’s been hustled out of his savings, right before Christmas. Staying at the shady Heartache Motel, Cherry can’t tell a shill from a mark and fears everyone is playing them for chumps. Cherry and Todd quickly find themselves in a dangerous sting that could send them to the slammer or mark them as pigeons from cons looking for an even bigger score.

Dateline Memphis by LynDee Walker
A Headlines in High Heels Mystery Novella (follows Buried Leads)

Crime reporter Nichelle Clarke thinks she’s going home for Christmas. But a quick stop at Graceland proves news breaks in the strangest places. When the King's home gets locked down with Nichelle inside, she chases this headline into the national spotlight—and the thief's crosshairs. Christmas dreams of blue suede Manolos fade, and all Nichelle wants from Santa is to land the story before the thief cuts off her news feed for good.

Books in the Henery Press Mystery Novella Series: Other People's Baggage and Heartache Motel. Part of the Henery Press Mystery Series Collection, if you like one, you'll probably like them all….

My thoughts about Heartache Motel ~~

What a fun, fun read! How can you not like a book revolving around Elvis and Graceland in Memphis? And how can you not just love the quirky characters that these three authors have brought together in this collection of stories? Gotta love Elvis impersonators and drag queens! 

Before reading Heartbreak Motel, I have to admit that I had read only one of these authors. I have read several books in Larissa Reinhart's Cherry Tucker series and this has only deepened my desire to read more. The other two authors are new-to-me but I love their stories—both their style and their characters—that I'm definitely going to be checking out the rest of their series. 

I received a copy of Heartache Motel from Henery Press via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

The authors

Terri L. Austin

Website

Larissa Reinhart
Website

LynDee Walker

Website

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On Tour and an Excerpt: Front Page Fatality by LynDee Walker

Crime reporter Nichelle Clarke’s days can flip from macabre to comical with a beep of her police scanner. Then an ordinary accident story turns extraordinary when evidence goes missing, a prosecutor vanishes, and a sexy Mafia boss shows up with the headline tip of a lifetime.

As Nichelle gets closer to the truth, her story gets more dangerous. Armed with a notebook, a hunch, and her favorite stilettos, Nichelle races to splash these shady dealings across the front page before this deadline becomes her last. ~~ synopsis from Goodreads

Excerpt

“Nichelle, what a great job you did on the murder conviction!” Shelby put her hands on her tiny hips and stuck out her inversely-proportionate chest, straining the cotton of her simple cornflower t-shirt. “Though I’m pretty sure the prosecutor was approaching the bench, not the beach.”

My temper flared, but before I opened my mouth to tell her that quickly pounding out the day’s lead story was different than writing up the garden club meetings she covered before her big move to the copy desk, Bob cleared his throat.

“That one’s on me, since I edited that story, Shelby,” he said, before he dismissed her with a promise that deadlines would be adhered to by all.

“Sorry, chief.” I shrugged at Bob as Shelby’s spiky black hair disappeared into the maze of cubicles. “Bench, beach. Potato, tomato.”

Bob chuckled before he turned to the features editor. I tuned out what they were talking about. For the most part, I preferred hard news writing to any other kind.

I had grabbed the police report on the first drug dealer murder from my file drawer on my way into the meeting, and I pulled it out and read it again. Noah Leon Smith, age twenty-six, had died the Friday before Memorial Day of a massive head injury inflicted by a .45 caliber bullet. He’d been found sprawled across his own sofa in a neighborhood that saw more than its fair share of violence. The easy assumption was that he’d been killed by another dealer, or maybe a desperate customer. But now did a second victim prove that easy assumption faulty?

My eyes scanned the detective’s narrative with that in mind, and four simple lines jumped out at me like a pair of old sneakers at a Manolo collection debut.

Bathroom sink, lower cabinet: four kilograms beige powder, two large plastic bags dried, green leafy substance. Upper cabinet: fifteen large bags containing tablets, various sizes and colors. Lab results: powder: heroin. Green leafy: marijuana. Tablets: Oxycontin, Vicodin, Zoloft, Effexor, Ri- talin. Kitchen, freezer compartment: three paper grocery sacks containing a total of $257,400 in large bills.

I’d dismissed it before. Sure, a business rival or a junkie would have stolen the drugs and the money—if they had time, knew where to find it, and weren’t already flying on a sample of Noah Smith’s pharmaceuticals. But another dealer with holes where he shouldn’t have them made me wonder if the crime scenes were similar. If the new victim still had a house full of smack and cash, now that was a story.

My fingers wound around a lock of my hair, my thoughts hijacked by scenes from old Charles Bronson movies as I considered the possibility the shooter was more interested in payback than a payday. That could be a very sexy story.

Bob’s endearingly cheesy dismissal snapped me out of my reverie. “All right, folks,” he said every morning. “My office is not newsworthy, so get out and go find me something to print.”

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About the author

LynDee Walker grew up in the land of stifling heat and amazing food most people call Texas, and wanted to be Lois Lane from the time she could say the words “press conference.” An award-winning journalist, she traded cops and deadlines for burp cloths and onesies when her oldest child was born.

Writing the Headlines in Heels mysteries gives her the best of both worlds. LynDee adores her family, her readers, and enchiladas. She often works out tricky plot points while walking off the enchiladas. She lives in Richmond, Virginia, where she is working on her next novel.

Connect with LynDee

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