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New Release | Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders by M. S. Spencer #cozymystery #newrelease #bookboost

  • Writer: N. N. Light
    N. N. Light
  • Jun 11
  • 4 min read

Title: Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders

 

Author: M. S. Spencer

 

Genre: Cozy mystery

 

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

Book Blurb:

 

When Sophie Childress discovers a letter written in 1920 by the witness to a murder, she enlists Noah Pennyman—owner of the house where it took place—to investigate. Who was the victim? What did the killer do with the body—not to mention a carpetbag full of money? Together they expose a complex web of family ties and lies that has persisted through four generations in the historic village of Marmion Grove. When two more corpses are unearthed, Noah and Sophie are faced with too many victims and not enough murderers.

 

Excerpt:

 

The First Attempt

 

Peveril Hall, Sunday, midnight

 

“What was that?”

 

“Waa?”

 

“I heard something outside.” Noah rose. “I’m going to go check it out.”

 

“Want me to go with you?” Sophie didn’t really mean it.

 

“Nah. If it’s raccoons in the garbage, I’ll just send them packing.”

 

Just like Agnes that night. “Maybe I should go with you.”

 

Shh. I’ll just be a minute.” He slipped into his shoes and went downstairs in the dark.

 

Sophie waited, wide awake. Five minutes went by. Then ten. By fifteen minutes she was out of bed and searching for Noah’s bathrobe. Something’s not right. My spidey sense is tingling.

 

She stood at the top of the stairs, listening. All was quiet. Too quiet. She decided to go with her gut and see for herself. She made her way to the kitchen. Empty. She rummaged through several drawers for a flashlight without success. The yard was pitch black. Should I call out? That might spook the raccoons. But what if it’s an intruder—a human? Would that draw attention to me? Or worse, give away Noah’s position? Where the hell is he? She opened the screen door. Nothing. Not even a foraging squirrel broke the stillness.

 

Okay, I’m going outside, intruder be damned. She stepped down the stairs. The outbuildings loomed in the darkness—the summer house on the right; the playhouse in front of her; the garage on the left, its two-story bulk shutting out the moonlight. Just then a car went by on the road, and its headlights flashed across the courtyard. Sophie saw a shape by the side of the garage. Oh dear, is it…?

 

She ran across the grass. Noah lay crumpled on the ground, out cold. She tried to lift him, but something resisted her efforts. Wait, didn’t I see floodlights under the gables? She left Noah, who hadn’t moved, and opened the door. The switch was easy to find, and soon the whole backyard was bathed in light. When she returned to him, he was stirring. “Thank God, you’re not dead.” She felt for her phone. Darn—I left it upstairs!

 

“Sophie?” His voice was weak but clear.

 

“Noah! Are you all right?”

 

“I think so… I seem to be attached to something. It’s holding me down.”

 

She turned him over. A thick rope was tied around his waist and trailed along the ground. “What the hell?” She picked at it, but the knot was too tight. “Hang on a sec.”

 

Back in the kitchen, she selected a meat fork from a stoneware crock filled with kitchen tools. She carried it outside and worked the knot back and forth until it loosened up enough to untie.

 

Noah sat up, wide awake now. “Ooph. I must have fallen out the window.”

 

She coiled up the rope. “How did it happen?”

 

“I don’t know. The last thing I remember seeing was a light flickering in the carriage house. I went to investigate. It’s all a blank after that.” He massaged his rump. “I must’ve hit the ground hard.”

 

“You don’t remember going up to the hayloft?”

 

He shook his head.

 

She examined the rest of him. “There’s a big lump on the back of your head, too.” She leaned back on her haunches. “Someone clubbed you.”

 

“Then how did I hurt my arm?” He rotated it, revealing a dark bruise.

 

“Who knows?” She looked up. “The window’s closed.” Just below it the hook protruded from the wall. She picked up the end of the rope. “This is just about long enough.”

 

“Long enough for what?”

 

“To toss over the hook, hoist you up, and then drop you.” Goose bumps bristled on her arms. “You were supposed to die, Noah.”

 

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author Biography

 

Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. In June 2025 she will have published eighteen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

 

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©2015-2025 BY N. N. LIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (2015-17 on Wordpress) 

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