When Harry Killed Sally by @Beth__Henderson is a Cozy Mystery Event pick #cozymystery #giveaway
Title: WHEN HARRY KILLED SALLY
Author: Beth Henderson
Genre: Cozy mystery, Paranormal romantic comedy, paranormal lite, humorous mystery
In Killaman Falls, if a witch & a werewolf walk into the same bar, things really can't be the same ever again.
WHEN HARRY KILLED SALLY, the cops got it wrong! Emmalyst Whichur knew there was no way Harry had killed her godmother. Harry adored Sally. But the evidence pointed right at him. As an investigative reporter, though freshly out of a job, Lyst had not only the chops to look into things, she had the time. In any case, she needed to be in Killaman Falls. Even though it was nearly the last place on Earth she would have chosen to be. And not just because killers were apparently loose in the miniscule mountain town. Connor Wolfe knew his friend Harry hadn’t killed Sally Whichur either, but there was that damning evidence. As the official non-paid liaison for the sheriff’s department in Killaman Falls, New Hampshire, at least he had an “in” with law enforcement. But he had further problems to deal with, one of them being springing Harry before the Full Moon arrived. If he was still incarcerated then, a well-kept secret the two of them shared would be out in the open. Sally had been an expert secret keeper herself though. Connor knew nothing of Sally’s life prior to arriving in Killaman Falls, and Lyst knew nothing about it prior to Sally’s arrival at the commune where Lyst had been born. Could Sally’s mysterious past have caught up with her? Or was the answer to her murder closer to home? When Emmalyst Whichur met Connor Wolfe, it was a sleuthing match in the making. And possibly a bit more. After all, in Killaman Falls, if a witch and a werewolf walk into the same bar, things really can't be the same ever again. When Harry Killed Sally is the first book in the Whichur-Wolfe Detection series.
“You really know nothing about Killaman Falls, do you?”
“Hick town on the side of a mountain. Or do you finally have cell service here?”
“Nope. No handy tower.”
“Only if you own a dish and it and the satellite are in a committed relationship,” I admitted.
“Did the phone company run cables to make landlines the up-and-coming thing here?”
“Yes, they did, on poles. Then a tree fell over and wiped service out. A few people do know how to send smoke signals.”
“Ah,” she said. “You’re being factious. What exactly do you do on the mountain, Connor Wolfe? Forest ranger? Lumberjack?”
“Closer to local gigolo, although the clientele is very select. I do have an opening on my schedule if you’d like to make an appointment,” I offered. And, yes, I was being factious.
Which was the point when Omay, the tavern owner’s wife, set a bottle of Guiness in front of me and cocked her head. “The usual Friday night fare, sheriff?”
“No imagination, have I?” I said. “I’ll have what Ms. Whichur is having. What is it?”
“Your usual,” Omay answered and returned to the kitchen.
I met Sally’s niece’s eyes across the table. “We have something in common already. Huzzah!” I lifted the sweating bottle and took a slug.
“Dial it down, buddy,” Emmalyst ordered. “Since Mrs. Whatever called you ‘sheriff’ it sounds like the population has reached the desired number to acquire their own cop in Killaman Falls.”
“Devil a bit, darlin’. It’s an honorary title. I’m the lucky stiff to land the non-paying job.”
“The name of this widening in the road is Kill-a-man,” she said.
“It’s likely a tumble over the Falls is what killed the lad. No one knows how far back in time that supposedly took place.”
“Perhaps the question should be why hasn’t the name been changed to something less…er…fatal?”
“No, the question is why did Sally Whichur choose to move here twenty years ago?”
Emmalyst cocked her head. “You don’t know? And here I thought she’d be high on your list of clients as the local gigolo.”
“You’d think,” I agreed. “So why did Sally move here?”
Emmalyst shrugged. “She never told me. I’ve long suspected she was running from something. As I don’t believe Harry had anything to do with her death, perhaps that past caught up with her.”
Emmalyst had forgotten she distrusted me as she spilled details. She leaned toward me across the table. “I’m hoping that I find something in her cabin that will give me a direction to take to follow that idea.”
“I’d like to be included in that treasure hunt,” I said. “Kidding aside, I write true crime books under a pseudonym. Perhaps if we join forces Sally’s killer—the real one—can be uncovered.”
Emmalyst leaned back in her seat. “Anyone can say they write true crime books, Wolfe. What’s the moniker you write them under?”
I delayed answering by enjoying two swallows of the Guiness. “Cace MacClery.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve heard of you!”
“Don’t act so shocked.”
“You’ve very well respected.”
“I do my homework,” I said.
“Why’d you chose Cace MacClery as your pen name?”
Actually, it had been because it’s what I’d been baptized as back in Donegal before the family boarded a ship for the land of opportunity. Cace Padraic MacClery.
It was also the name of a young New York City police constable who’d been headed home late one night the summer of 1873 and because he was tired, and Irish, had thought he’d be safe taking a short cut through Five Points, the infamous territory of the Dead Rabbits, an Irish gang.
He hadn’t been.
“Wait,” Emmalyst said. “You aren’t planning on profiting from Sally’s death, are you?”
“She was a friend. I don’t make a living by dragging friends though the muck, even if they went through it.”
“Good.” She buried her nose in the coffee mug.
I dropped my voice to a near whisper. “I do, however, need your help with a very important and very illegal caper, Lyst.”
“Illegal! With you being the mock sheriff? I’ll need to know more before I say no way to this ‘cause there’s no chance in hell that I’ll say—”
I leaned forward. “We need to break Harry out of jail, and the clock’s ticking on this one. It has to happen before moonrise tomorrow night.”
She stared at me for what felt like an hour but was probably under ten seconds. “Considering I think he’s being railroaded, it’s probably the best thing to do,” she said. “I will have to unpack my Wonder Woman bracelets and tiara though. Do we synchronize watches? Meet beneath the branches of a specific tree? Is there a particular bird call we make to signal each other?”
Ah, she didn’t believe me. But then, I probably wouldn’t believe me either in her place. “Well, no there isn’t. Originally, I was going to suggest we go in the front door, I distract the guards, and you walk out with Harry. But if you’ve got the rest of Wonder Woman’s costume, you’d probably distract them much faster.” Distract me, too, for that matter. Didn’t mean I couldn’t dream.
“Very funny,” Lyst said. “Now, be serious, Wolfe. Not only is breaking someone out of the hoosegow a criminal offense, but it’s also unnecessary. I know Harry is innocent. A bit of investigating who might have killed Aunt Sally, and he’s off the hook.”
I lifted the Guiness again, but rather than take a swallow I looked her straight in the eye. “It is necessary, Whichur. If he’s not sprung soon, the situation will escalate. Now, are you in, or aren’t you?”
She studied me for a full minute then sat back in her seat. “It’s fairly impossible to pull off, Wolfe. However, if you’re serious and I agree with the plan, then I’m in. But just to cure my curiosity.”
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
Available only at Amazon for Kindle and in trade paperback: http://getbook.at/HarrySally
What makes your featured book a must-read?
What could be better in October than to curl up with a comedic cozy mystery that is also romantic comedy and stirs in a lite touch of paranormal, considering the hero is a werewolf and the heroine is a witch in denial about being a witch (although her mother did tell her she was one). WHEN HARRY KILLED SALLY is also the kickoff to a four-book series (WHICHUR-WOLFE DETECTION), which means if you want to hang out with Connor Wolfe and Emmalyst Whichur for more than one bit of crime solving, you can!
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Runs October 12 – October 19, 2022.
Winner will be drawn on October 20, 2022.
Beth Henderson has always loved mystery and currently she writes quite a lot of it, just under various names. Connor Wolfe isn’t the only one answering to more than one moniker.
Henderson’s first published novel was a romantic suspense comedy, released in May 1990. Since then, she’s worn a variety of names and has over 37 novels, 9 novellas, 17 short stories, and the numbers keep growing. She also writes non-fiction about writing genre fiction. There are very few genres she hasn’t taken a fancy to when it comes to spinning tales.
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