Being twelve years old is already hard enough. Being a werewolf makes it even harder. Dillon Howell and his parents have just moved to Harmony, a small town in Northern California. Like all kids, he just wants to fit in and make friends, while keeping his “condition” a secret, of course. But Dillon quickly finds [...]
Banished Threads by Kaylin McFarren
A valuable art collection disappears turning a treasure-hunting duo into crime-stopping sleuths committed to vindicating family members in Kaylin McFarren’s action-packed suspense novel, Banished Threads.
While vacationing at the stately Cumberforge Manor in Bellwood, England, Rachel Lyons and Chase Cohen attend an elegant dinner party hosted by her uncle, Paul Lyons, and his aristocratic wife, Sara. Before the evening ends, a priceless collection of Morris Graves’s paintings are stolen from her uncle’s popular gallery, throwing all suspicion onto his wife’s missing granddaughter. Determined to clear Sloan Rafferty’s name and, in the process, win Paul’s favor, Chase scours the countryside looking for answers. In his absence, the police accuse Rachel’s uncle of an unsolved murder and secrets surrounding her grandmother’s death and the deaths of Sara’s former husbands turn his wife into the most likely suspect.
With the true villains hell-bent on destroying Paul Lyons and his family, solving both crimes while ensuring her uncle’s freedom not only endangers Rachel’s life but that of her unborn child. Will Chase save them before the kidnappers enact their revenge or will the ultimate price be paid, as predicted by a vagabond fortuneteller?
First place – 2016 Hudson Valley RWA Hook, Line & Sinker Contest
Banished Threads begins on a dreary night in late October. Stargazer sliced through the surface of the North Atlantic at fifteen knots, heading straight for the coast of England. After facing many perils at sea Chase Cohen is relieved to finally be in London.
Quote from Book: “With Rachel by his side “they disembarked from the train at Whitchurch and stepped through the station’s main door, Rachel’s excitement rose at the prospect of seeing her uncle. He was a younger version of her father, with the same chiseled good looks. He would have been easy to spot, even in this busy place. But from her vantage point, he was nowhere to be seen. Believing he had forgotten about her arrival, Rachel’s heart sank. She turned to Chase and was about to voice her concern when she caught sight of a handsome man in the passenger-loading zone: white cable-knit sweater, tight jeans, in his mid-thirties, shaggy brown hair, rugged jaw, easy smile, dimples, and unforgettable emerald-green eyes. He was leaning against a silver Mercedes, flashing his perfect white teeth and holding up a sign reading, “Welcome to England, Rachel Lyons.”
For a moment, she could hardly breathe, and she wondered if it was possible to fall over and die from shock. Or maybe from the idea of coming face-to-face with the last person on earth she ever expected to see. Although she had spoken to his Irish mother at a fund-raising event years earlier and was told that Killian was living with relatives in Northampton, she had convinced herself that the chance of meeting him was as unlikely as the sky turning green.
Killian Reed. His shimmering eyes were loving and warm and full of laughter. Rachel gasped and dropped her purse and over- night bag. She pulled off her high heels and ran to him. He swept her up and spun her around. When he set her back down, she buried her face in his chest and hugged him with all her might. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of bay-rum aftershave. He kissed the top of her head, and she gazed up at him. She didn’t realize she was crying until he reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” she whispered, gratified to see unshed tears in his beautiful eyes.
“It’s me, seaweed brain,” he said. “I’m really here.”
Rachel stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her waist and held her close. His hand smoothed her hair as he whispered, “I missed you, girl.”
She looked up at him and smiled, and it suddenly dawned on her that you meet all kinds of people in your life. Some you never think about again. Some you wonder what happened to and if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again, yet somehow you do. Killian Reed just happened to be one of those disconcerting, unforgettable beings. He was part of her past: a distant, bitter- sweet memory that had lingered for years.
With their last parting, they had grasped each other’s hands with a rush of melancholy, tender, and inexpressible feelings, and had gone their separate ways.
But time had moved on, and there was someone else in her life now—a silent observer patiently standing by, watching their every move with an annoyed pinch between his brows.
She took Killian by the hand and led him to Chase. More than anything, she hoped they would become fast friends, but as they shook hands, Rachel found it difficult to ignore the frowns tugging at the corners of their mouths. They both took a step back and just stood there, regarding each other silently, the air now seeming as cold as a razor blade.””
Twenty two chapters entwine a cast of strong characters in this well written mystery drama that expose family secrets, lies, stolen gallery art, kidnapping engaging readers with suspense and romance. Sit back and enjoy book three of this series where each book can be read in or out of sequence. Author Kaylin McFarren teases us with new tales taking shape in the recesses of her mind that are “only a night’s dream away”.
Cold Coffee Press/Cafe endorses multi-award winning author Kaylin McFarren’s Threads Series which include Banished Threads, Buried Threads, Severed Threads and Flaherty’s Crossing (her stand-alone fiction drama). We reviewed this book from Kindle/PDF format. The review was completed on March 21, 2016. For more information please visit Cold Coffee Cafe http://coldcoffeecafe.com/ and Cold Coffee Press http://www.coldcoffeepress.com