Some secrets can’t stay hidden, especially when they involve murder…
Liz Farrell is still reeling over the murder of her mother almost a year earlier at the hands of her father, Leo Bauer, when she receives the startling news that she’s inherited her estranged father’s sizable estate. Unable to come to terms with her father’s unspeakable legacy, Liz and her grandmother, Kate Stanton, visit Leo’s property in Benedict Canyon, desperately hoping to find closure. Instead, they find a bunker hidden under an old hunting lodge that had been used by Leo at one time to hold Liz’s mother captive. Horrified by the discovery, Liz immediately orders the bunker filled and the lodge destroyed but the ensuing demolition quickly comes to a grinding halt after a man’s remains are discovered in a shallow grave at the base of the old lodge. Once the press get wind of the gruesome discovery, rumors quickly surface, linking the remains to a murder spree that took place at the same address almost half a century earlier; a murder spree conveniently covered up by the governor at the time who also happened to be Leo Bauer’s stepbrother. Liz and Kate’s efforts to uncover the truth behind the murders are soon hampered by family secrets and a killer who’s intent on finishing the job started almost fifty years ago.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
By the time Marta Tandori reached fifth grade, she was an avid reader and writer with a stack of short stories collecting dust in a box under her bed but it wasn’t until she began studying acting in her early twenties at the prestigious American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York that Marta realized acting wasn’t really her passion – writing fiction was. What followed was years of writing workshops as well as correspondence courses in writing for children through the Institute of Children’s Literature in Connecticut. She credits the award winning author, Troon Harrison, as the instructor who helped her find her literary voice. Marta’s first work of middle-grade fiction, BEING SAM, NO MATTER WHAT was published in 2005, followed by EVERY WHICH WAY BUT KUKU! in 2006. With her more recent endeavors, Marta has shifted her writing focus to mysteries and suspense having “strong female protagonists with closets full of nasty skeletons and the odd murder or two to complicate their already complicated lives”. To learn more about Marta, please visit her website at http://martatandori.com or her Facebook Author Page at www.facebook.com/MartaTandoriAuthor.
Marta will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
FaceBook Page: www.facebook.com/MartaTandoriAuthor
Twitter : @MartaTandori
I need to escape him. I need to escape the man who is both my lover and my captor, but there is nowhere to run.
With a firm grip on my good arm, he pulls me along after him through the crush of humanity, toward the converging crowds gathering at Pandora’s Box on the corner of Sunset and Crescent Heights. The closer we get to our destination, the louder and more boisterous the crowds of protestors and police seem to become. I cry out in pain as my body is jostled, hurting my dislocated left shoulder, which is supported only by the flimsy sling he has fashioned for me. However, he doesn’t hear me cry out because he’s too busy trying to keep up with his two friends.
For a second, I actually toy with the idea of wrenching my arm out of his grip and making a run for it, but almost immediately, I’m overcome by a fear so paralyzing that I’m barely able to breathe. He’s already given me a nasty taste of what he will do to me if I ever try leaving him. He’s promised to stop at nothing—and spare no one—until he finds me, even if it means killing every member of my family. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from living with this monster, it’s to always take his threats seriously. With a sinking heart, I realize I am nothing more than a pawn to him; valuable when needed, but as with everything in his life, sadly expendable once I’ve served my purpose in his pursuit of his master plan. He has very few displays of human emotion, so it’s difficult to figure out what he’s thinking at any given time. One thing I am sure of, though, is that he trusts no one, least of all me.