About Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds (out 17 June 2025): In this sun-dappled mystery from New York Times bestselling author Allison Brennan, a risk-averse bibliophile gets in over her head when strange notes in a book draw her into a real-life investigation.

Crime fiction has always delivered an abundance of memorable secondary characters. In romantic suspense, it’s often the love interest. In police procedurals, there’s the indispensable partner. In domestic suspense, the loyal best friend usually has your back — until they don’t.

In my romantic mystery Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds —my first full-length story written in first person— I spent every moment in Mia’s head. That was a challenge for someone like me used to juggling five or more points of view per book. It made me think carefully about how secondary characters appeared through Mia’s lens — and how I could bring them to life without giving them their own chapters.

My favorite of these characters is Brie Locke, an 18-year-old on the brink of college, uneasy about her father’s new relationship. Mia is 30, and that twelve-year age gap initially felt vast. But I thought of my own daughters—nearly ten years apart — and how shared values and lived experiences can bridge even wide generational divides.

Brie is self-assured, but nervous about leaving home. Mia is confident professionally, but uneasy in social settings. Brie is a Gen Z social media whiz; Mia sees technology as a necessary tool she only half understands. Both were raised by single dads. Yet where Mia is cynical about love, Brie holds tightly to the memory of her parents’ happy marriage. Their dynamic evolved naturally, and their bond added depth to the story — a warmness I didn’t really see until I was done writing the book.

Of course, working together to solve a murder and trying not to get killed in the process tends to accelerate friendship

And I think writing Brie as Mia’s friend helped balance Mia’s budding relationship with the hot bartender Jason Mallory, who I also had a lot of fun developing!

Other side characters also interested me as I developed them through the story — Luis, the cryptic wise man; the wealthy but aggravating suspects; and especially Anya, who’s haunted by a past decision that could destroy her. And I can’t forget the horny honeymooners who showed up when Mia least expected them! Each added texture to the story, but it got me thinking: what makes a great secondary character?

Here are some of my favorites from other books I love:

The Partner

PI Elvis Cole wouldn’t be the same without his partner, Joe Pike. In Robert Crais’s series, Elvis is usually center stage, but in The Big Empty, Pike shines. Their enduring friendship and loyalty are always present, but this installment brought their bond to the forefront. It’s my favorite since Taken.

Also Crais is Suspect, a powerful story about LAPD Officer Scott James recovering from a traumatic shooting—and the bond he forms with Maggie, a military dog also suffering from PTSD. Their partnership is raw, healing, and unforgettable. It’s one of my top ten books of all time.

The Bestie

I’m currently reading The Ex-Girlfriend’s Murder Club, a darkly fun tale of three women who all dated the same man — now dead. Watching their unexpected friendship develop amid chaos is one of the best portrayals of female friendship I’ve read in a long time.

Then there’s Vero, from Elle Cosimano’s Finlay Donovan series (starting with Finlay Donovan is Killing It.) Vero is technically the nanny, but she’s also the bestie/partner we all wish we had. She’s younger than Finlay, fiercely loyal, brilliantly blunt, and hilariously fearless. Whether you call her the sidekick or the best friend, she steals every scene—and a piece of my heart.

The Sidekick

Flora Dane from Lisa Gardner’s DD Warren series might not fit neatly into the sidekick box—she’s not quite a partner, not exactly a friend—but she’s unforgettable. Her tragic backstory and the way she channels her trauma into strength make her one of the most compelling recurring characters in modern crime fiction.

In Gregg Hurwitz’s Orphan X series, we meet Joey in Hellbent, a teen-age hacker who not only keeps up with Evan Smoak, but often surpasses him. She adds emotional depth and even serves on occasion as Evan’s moral compass in a world full of gray.

Then there’s Nate Romanowski from C.J. Box’s Joe Pickett series. Joe is the moral heart of the series, while Nate—his occasionally violent, always fascinating friend — challenges those morals at nearly every turn. He’s more than a sidekick he’s the wild card that keeps things unpredictable.

The Cast of Thousands

J.D. Robb, the alter-ego of prolific author Nora Roberts, created an amazing world in her In Death series, set in near-future New York City. At the center are Detective Eve Dallas and her husband Roarke, the richest man on or off planet. But the supporting cast makes the series shine: Peabody, the loyal partner; Feeney, the curmudgeonly father figure; McNab and his outrageous outfits, the tech whiz kid; Mavis and Leonardo; Summerset, Roarke’s majordomo and Eve’s nemesis-turned-ally. I could list many more characters I adore, but it would take a full-length essay. Every book feels like returning home to a vibrant, complex world.

For a lighter but equally delightful ensemble, Lucy Score’s Riley Thorn “Reluctant Psychic” series is pure fun. From the quirky octogenarians Riley lives with to her drama-filled family and her boyfriend Nick, the characters are hilarious, heartwarming, and endlessly entertaining. Every new book layers on more chaos—and more charm.

I’ve been accused (often fairly!) of filling my thrillers with a few too many characters. But for me, these relationships—the partners, the besties, the unexpected allies—are what bring stories to life. I’m a work in progress, but I’d rather have too many vibrant personalities than not enough.

One of my favorite things about writing Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds was that I wasn’t tied to any of my existing characters. Each new person developed organically as they appeared on the page, bringing comic relief, intrigue, flair—whatever the story needed. It was both liberating and a little terrifying!

So tell me — who are some of your favorite secondary characters?

The post Sidekicks, Partners and Besties: Who Are Your Favorites? appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Hi, Allison! Welcome back! How has the past two years been since we last spoke?

Thank you so much for having me again! Time flies. I now have a grandson, which is one of the most joyful things in my life. And in the last two years, I had two kids graduate from college and find good jobs, so that’s a plus. For me, I’m still writing every day (except Mondays when I babysit my grandson) and I still love (almost) every minute of it.

With it being the new year, have you set any goals for the year?

I’m not a big goal setter. I’ve always felt that if I set a goal and achieve it, the goal was too easy and I’m not pushing myself. If I set a goal and miss it, then I feel like a failure. So I focus more on the little things: putting in the time. This goes for everything, from writing to personal relationships. That said, 2024 was a bit difficult because my husband had some health issues and I got behind on my deadlines. When you’re late on one, everything steamrolls. My goal is to be back on track by the end of this month, and so far, so good! Both for my husband and my deadlines.

See How They Hide is the sixth installment in your Quinn & Costa series and it’s out now! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?

Two murders on opposite coasts.

For those who haven’t picked up the series, what do they have to look forward to?

See How They Hide is a good place to start the series because the last book resolved an ongoing conflict for Detective Kara Quinn, one of my protagonists. In this book, the FBI Mobile Response Team (the “best of the best” who travel to small communities to solve unusual or complex cases) is finally fully staffed. Now, they are working together to solve two murders that happened on opposite coasts at the same time with the same M.O. The team splits up to cover more ground, but end up together in Colorado which seems to be a common thread between the victims. If you like police procedurals with complex characters (both good guys and bad!) then you’ll like the Quinn & Costa series.

And for those who have, what can they expect from this new installment?

The MRT is finally fully staffed with the addition of rookie FBI agent and former Marine Sloane Wagner (introduced in The Missing Witness.) If you’ve been following the series, now Kara and Matt are in a good place both personally and professionally, and the team is (mostly) working well together. In See How They Hide you’ll get the same twisty, complex mystery that has defined this series, set in three beautiful areas of the US – rural Virginia, southern Oregon, and the Rocky Mountains. Themes about starting over, family loyalty (and disloyalty), retribution, and forgiveness … and of course secrets, vengeance, and murder.

Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring further?

I love all the characters in the Mobile Response Team. Most of the books center around Kara Quinn, and one thing I love in this series is the friendship and trust that is built between Kara and her partner Michael Harris. They don’t agree on everything, but they trust and respect each other and it really shows in this book. I also enjoy how Kara and Matt’s relationship has progressed over the series. This isn’t a romantic suspense, so their relationship takes a back seat, but it’s grown organically as I think would be realistic if they were real people. And Riley Pierce, a potential witness and victim, was a very interesting character to develop. She is very different from me, so I had to really dig down and get to know her. It wasn’t easy, but I’m very happy with her and how she evolved.

Specific moments that stand out … Riley’s memories of Havenwood are probably the most powerful because they are both beautiful and inspiring, but with a very dark undertone.

Did you face any challenges whilst writing? How did you overcome them?

Every book is different, so the challenges are different. For example, See How They Hide flowed pretty smoothly for me, with only a few kinks along the way. My biggest challenges were related to weather and location – I had the book completely written, set in early March, and realized my characters wouldn’t be able to do half of what I had them do because the area would have been too deep with snow. So during revisions, I changed early March to early April – still snow on the ground, but no major rewrites. The book I just finished, Don’t Say a Word, was a lot harder because I knew who the bad guy was from the beginning (I don’t always) and I felt it was too obvious, so I spent a lot of time writing and rewriting and rewriting to make the story as strong as possible. And then my editor also felt it was too obvious, so I did more work during revisions. (Sometimes it works for the story to know who the bad guy is – it builds suspense – and other times, it flops.)

What’s the best and worst writing advice you’ve received?

Best: It never gets easier because a professional author will always strive to make their next book better than the last.

Worst: “You can’t …” fill in the blank; “You must …” fill in the blank. You can’t write romantic suspense, it’s not selling. You must have sex scenes. You can’t write a standalone thriller until you’re established. You must plot. You can’t kill off a main character.

I hate it when people say I can’t or I must do something. My advice? Write the book you want to read. First and foremost, you have to love what you write.

What’s next for you?

Well … my books for 2025 are done and in production. Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds is a standalone romantic mystery out in June, and Don’t Say a Word is the second Angelhart Investigations book out in September. I’m currently writing the next Quinn & Costa thriller that will be out in early 2026 … this one set mostly in Florida and Georgia.

Lastly, what books are you looking forward to picking up in 2025?

So I’m actually reading The Big Empty by Robert Crais and listening to Nemesis by Gregg Hurwitz, both of which I received advanced copies for and were two of the books I was most looking forward to reading in 2025. So I have a head start on my 2025 reading! I’m also looking forward to Elle Cosimano’s next mystery, Finlay Donovan Digs Her Own Grave.

Will you be picking up See How They Hide? Have you already? Tell us in the comments below!

The post Q&A: Allison Brennan, Author of ‘See How They Hide’ appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Allison Brennan’s The Missing Witness, which is the fifth installment in the Quinn & Costa series and it’s out now.

Detective Kara Quinn is back in Los Angeles to testify against a notorious human trafficker, finally moving past the case that upended her life. But when the accused is shot in broad daylight, the chaotic scene of the crime turns up few reliable bystanders. And one witness—a whistleblower who might be the key to everything—has disappeared.

After another person close to the case is killed, it’s clear that anyone who knows too much is in danger, and tracking down the witness becomes a matter of life-and-death. But as explosive secrets surface within the LAPD and FBI, Kara questions everything she thought she knew about the case, her colleagues and the life she left behind months ago.

Now with FBI special agent Matt Costa’s help, she must race to find the missing witness and get to the bottom of the avalanche of conspiracies that has rocked LA to its core…before it’s too late.

CHAPTER 1

My parking garage off Fifth was nearly a mile from where I worked at city hall. I could have paid twice as much to park two blocks from my building and avoid the rows of homeless people: the worn tents, the used needles, the stinking garbage, the aura of hopelessness and distrust that filled a corner park and bled down the streets.

I was listening to my favorite podcast, LA with A&I. Amy and Ian started the podcast two years ago to talk about computer gaming, technology, entertainment and Los Angeles. It had blossomed into a quasi news show and they live streamed every morning at seven. They’d riff on tech and local news as if sitting down with friends over coffee. Like me, they were nerds, born and bred in the City of Angels. I’d never met Amy or Ian in real life, but felt like I’d known them forever.

We’d chatted over Discord, teamed up to play League of Legends, and I often sent them interesting clips about gaming or tech that they talked about on their podcast, crediting my gaming handle. Twice, we’d tried to set up coffee dates, but I always chickened out. I didn’t know why. Maybe because I thought they wouldn’t like me if they met me. Maybe because I was socially awkward. Maybe because I didn’t like people knowing too much about my life.

Today while I drove to work, they’d discussed the disaster that was city hall: all the digital files had been wiped out. The news story lasted for about five minutes, but it would be my life for the next month or more as my division rebuilt the data from backups and archives. It was a mess. They laughed over it; I tried to, but I was beginning to suspect the error was on purpose, not by mistake.

Now they were talking about a sweatshop that had been shut down last week.

“We don’t know much,” Amy said. “You’d think after eight days there’d be some big press conference, or at least a frontpage story. The only thing we found was two news clips—less than ninety seconds each—and an article on LA Crime Beat.”

“David Chen,” Ian said, “a Chinese American who allegedly trafficked hundreds of women and children to run his factory in Chinatown, was arraigned on Monday, but according to Crime Beat, the FBI is also investigating the crime. And—get this— the guy is already out on bail.”

“It’s fucked,” Amy said. “Look, I’m all for bail reform. I don’t think some guy with weed in his pocket should have to pay thousands of bucks to stay out of jail while the justice system churns. But human trafficking is a serious crime—literally not two miles from city hall, over three hundred people were forced to work at a sweatshop for no money. They had no freedom, lived in a hovel next door to the warehouse. Crime Beat reported that the workers used an underground tunnel to avoid being seen—something I haven’t read in the news except for one brief mention. And Chen allegedly killed one of the women as he fled from police. How did this guy get away with it? He kills someone and spends no more than a weekend behind bars?”

“According to Crime Beat, LAPD investigated the business for months before they raided the place,” Ian said. “But Chen has been operating for years. How could something like this happen and no one said a word?”

I knew how. People didn’t see things they didn’t want to.

Case in point: the homeless encampment I now walked by.

I paused the podcast and popped my earbuds back into their charging case.

“Hello, Johnny,” I said to the heroin addict with stringy hair that might be blond, if washed. I knew he was thirty-three, though he looked much older. His hair had fallen out in clumps, his teeth were rotted, and his face scarred from sores that came and went. He sat on a crusty sleeping bag, leaned against the stone wall of a DWP substation, his hollow eyes staring at nothing. As usual, he didn’t acknowledge me. I knew his name because I had asked when he wasn’t too far gone. Johnny, born in Minnesota. He hadn’t talked to his family in years. Thought his father was dead, but didn’t remember. He once talked about a sister and beamed with pride. She’s really smart. She’s a teacher in…then his face dropped because he couldn’t remember where his sister lived.

Four years ago, I left a job working for a tech start-up company to work in IT for city hall. It was barely a step up from entry-level and I couldn’t afford nearby parking garages. If I took a combination of buses and the metro, it would take me over ninety minutes to get to work from Burbank, so factoring the combination of time and money, driving was my best bet and I picked the cheapest garage less than a mile from work.

I used to cringe when I walked by the park. Four years ago, only a dozen homeless tents dotted the corner; the numbers had more than quadrupled. Now that I could afford a more expensive garage, I didn’t want it. I knew most of the people here by name.

“Hey, Toby,” I greeted the old black man wearing three coats, his long, dirty gray beard falling to his stomach. He had tied a rope around his waist and attached it to his shopping cart to avoid anyone stealing his worldly possessions when he slept off his alcohol.

“Mizvi,” he said, running my name together in a slur. He called me “Miss Violet” when he was sober. He must have still been coming down off whatever he’d drank last night.

I smiled. Four years ago I never smiled at these people, fearing something undefinable. Now I did, even when I wanted to cry. I reached into my purse and pulled out a bite-size Hershey Bar. Toby loved chocolate. I handed it to him. He took it with a wide grin, revealing stained teeth.

One of the biggest myths about the homeless is that they’re hungry. They have more food than they can eat. That doesn’t mean many aren’t malnourished. Drug and alcohol abuse can do that to a person.

A couple weeks ago a church group had thought they would bring in sandwiches and water as part of community service. It was a nice gesture, sure, but they could have asked what was needed instead of assuming that these people were starving. Most of the food went uneaten, left outside tents to become rat food. The plastic water bottles were collected to return for the deposit, which was used to buy drugs and alcohol.

But no one gave Toby chocolate, he once told me when he was half-sober. Now, whenever I saw him—once, twice a week—I gave him a Hershey Bar. He would die sooner than he should, so why couldn’t I give him a small pleasure that I could afford? Toby was one of the chronics, a man who’d been on the street for years. He had no desire to be anywhere else, trusted no one, though I thought he trusted me a little. I wished I knew his story, how he came to be here, how I could reach him to show him a different path. His liver had to be slush with the amount of alcohol he consumed. Alcohol he bought because people, thinking they were helping—or just to make themselves feel better—handed him money.

As I passed the entrance to the small park, the stench of unwashed humans assaulted me. The city had put four porta-potties on the edge of the park but they emptied them once a month, if that. They were used more for getting high and prostitution than as bathrooms. The city had also put up fencing, but didn’t always come around to lock the gate. Wouldn’t matter; someone would cut it open and no one would stop them. Trespassing was the least of the crimes in the area.

I dared to look inside the park, though I didn’t expect to see her. I hadn’t seen her for over a week. I found myself clutching my messenger bag that was strapped across my chest. Not because I thought someone would steal it, but because I needed to hold something, as if my bag was a security blanket.

I didn’t see her among the tents or the people sitting on the ground, on the dirt and cushions, broken couches and sleeping bags, among the needles and small, tin foils used to smoke fentanyl. I kicked aside a vial that had once held Narcan, the drug to counteract opioid overdoses. The clear and plastic vials littered the ground, remnants of addiction.

There was nothing humane about allowing people to get so wasted they were on the verge of death, reviving them, then leaving them to do it over and over again. But that was the system.

The system was fucked.

Blue and red lights whirled as I approached the corner. I usually crossed Fifth Street here, but today I stopped, stared at the silent police car.

The police only came when someone was dying…or dead.

Mom.

I found my feet moving toward the cops even though I wanted to run away. My heart raced, my vision blurred as tears flashed, then disappeared.

Mom.

Excerpted from The Missing Witness by Allison Brennan, Copyright © 2024 by Allison Brennan. Published by MIRA Books.

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Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Allison Brennan’s North of Nowhere, which is out August 8th.

After five years in hiding from their murderous father, the day Kristin and Ryan McIntyre have been dreading has arrived: Boyd McIntyre, head of a Los Angeles crime family, has at last tracked his kids to a small Montana town and is minutes away from kidnapping them. They barely escape in a small plane, but gunfire hits the fuel line. The pilot, a man who has been raising them as his own, manages to crash land in the middle of the Montana wilderness. The siblings hike deep into the woods, searching desperately for safety—unaware of the severity of the approaching storm.

Boyd’s sister Ruby left Los Angeles for the Army years ago, cutting off contact in order to help keep her niece and nephew safe and free from the horrors of the McIntyre clan. So when she gets an emergency call that the plane has gone down with the kids inside, she drops everything to try save them.

As the storm builds, Ruby isn’t the only person looking for them. Boyd has hired an expert tracker to find and bring them home. And rancher Nick Lorenzo, who knows these mountains better than anyone and doesn’t understand why the kids are running, is on their trail too.

But there is a greater threat to Kristen and Ryan out there. More volatile than the incoming blizzard, more dangerous than the family they ran from or the natural predators they could encounter. Who finds them first could determine if they live or die. . .

He woke Kristen at five-thirty, as soon as he returned from his morning recon. She sat bolt upright, her hand reaching for her nightstand where he’d taught her to store her weapon. His chest tightened. He’d trained his sixteen-year-old daughter to be a fighter.

She’s not your daughter.

“Plan B, baby,” he said.

She stared at him, fully awake, fists clenched. What kid woke up alert and ready to fight?

She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t argue. Five years in hiding, and she still knew that hesitation could mean death. Or worse.

Silently, Kris swung her feet over the bed and slipped on her sturdiest boots. She slept in sweats and a tank top, even in the cold; she pulled on a thermal shirt then a school sweatshirt. She played soccer for her high school, the Bobcats. Green and gold, like her eyes.

Just like her aunt Ruby.

Just like her murderous father.

It was cold; the air damp, the sky gray. Snow would be here tonight, if not sooner. But if Plan B worked, they’d be sequestered in a remote cabin no one knew about, more than three hundred miles from Big Sky, with enough food and wood to last them all winter if necessary, until they could disappear again.

Confident that Kris knew what to do, Tony went to saddle the horses. As soon as Tony didn’t show up for work this morning, the men would report to Boyd. Tony wondered why Boyd hadn’t shown up here already—certainly, if he had men in town, he knew where Tony lived.

Except, Boyd wouldn’t want the kids to see him kill Tony. If Boyd wanted the kids to go with him willingly, he would have to convince them that Tony was the bad guy, much harder to do if he was murdered in front of them. If Tony had been the one planning this snatch and grab, he would grab the kids on their way to school. Safer that way for all involved, and less likely that there would be witnesses.

That was probably Boyd’s plan. Grab the kids, then kill Tony quietly, out of their sight.

His fists clenched and Leader, his gelding, whinnied. Tony soothed him, tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked, the kids would sense it just as sure as the horse did.

Once Tony didn’t show up as expected at Triple Pine, Boyd would know Tony had spotted his people and he’d come here, to the house. The only way to access the property was from a narrow, half-mile-long gravel driveway off a remote two-lane road. In the five years Tony had lived in Big Sky, he’d learned every trail and path that cars could not travel, even more important when dealing with a city boy like Boyd and his crew. Now he had to use that advantage to maximum effect.

Stay and fight.

He wanted to. Damn, he wanted to make his stand here, where he knew the area. Where he could set a trap and draw Boyd away from his bodyguards. Where he could push a knife into his chest and watch him die, fully aware that Tony was the one to kill him.

And why.

He let out a long, deep breath. He hadn’t killed anyone in five years. He’d promised himself, for the sake of Maggie’s kids, that his killing days were over. But the idea of ending Boyd McIntyre gave him a rush, a warm feeling of satisfaction.

Though Plan B was workable, he’d much have preferred Plan A—driving from Big Sky to Bozeman, trading vehicles, then heading the back way to Kalispell. It would be faster, safer, to hide until they could disappear again. He’d do anything to protect Kris and Ryan.

Anything.

Even kill again.

He had to assume Boyd had people on the roads; they would know his truck and any truck he had access to at the ranch. They could already be watching the house, but certainly the main road. Though the single access road was good for security, it was bad now that he needed to escape. So Plan B.

Once the kids were safe, he’d call their aunt Ruby. She had already sacrificed so much for the kids, he didn’t want to ask her for anything, but she would help. She would help because she understood the stakes and, like him, would do anything to protect Kris and Ryan.

Ruby had been so angry when he cut off ties. He had no other choice. It wasn’t about trust, it was about everyone’s safety. Ruby, Kris, Ryan. Even if Ruby never consciously told Boyd or Frankie where he’d taken the kids, she might slip up. They’d found her fiancé Trevor, who had attempted to help. His murder was a warning—to him, to Ruby, to anyone who tried to stop the McIntyre organization.

Tony shoved his emotions to the back of his mind. He couldn’t do his job if he thought about the past, his rage, his mistakes. Because he’d made a lot of mistakes.

Plan B: Steal his boss’s twin prop and fly to Ennis. As the crow flies, from take-off to landing, would be fifteen, twenty minutes tops. Land in a field, steal a car, and head to the cabin outside Kalispell, near the Canadian border, swapping out cars along the way. Same endgame, different path. Time wasn’t on his side—he had to get out of here before Boyd arrived, but he couldn’t take off for an hour, at sunrise.

He soothed the horses again. They’d picked up on his primal need to fight.

“I know, boy. This is a bad situation.” He ran his fingers along Leader’s mane and whispered in his ear, calming himself as much as the horse. As soon as Leader was calm, the other two quickly fell into line. He brought the three horses out of the stable and loosely tied them to the rail, then went back inside their small cabin to get the kids. They didn’t have any more time. He wanted to be in the air before Boyd ever found out they’d run.

He grabbed his bag, double-checked his gun, then put it into his holster. He’d trained Kris how to shoot; this was Montana. No one batted an eye when they went target shooting or hunting in rural America.

It was a lot different shooting a person instead of a buck.

Tony knew it.

Kristen knew it.

He stepped into Ryan’s room. Kris had her bag over her shoulders and was helping her brother with his.

Tony squatted in front of Ryan. He signed, “Help your sister, okay? Do what she says and I’ll see you soon.”

Ryan was a month shy of eleven. He was a smart kid, but he was still a kid. Tony never thought of Ryan as being handicapped. He couldn’t hear, so what? His other senses were better than most hearing folks, which helped him make up for the silence he lived in. But today, it could hurt him. Today, not hearing a warning could get his son killed.

He’s not your son.

Ryan hugged him. A simple gesture. Tony wasn’t an emotional man, but his eyes heated and he had to blink rapidly to stay in control.

Ryan signed, “I love you, Dad.”

I love you too, kid. More than you can know.

Tony turned to Kris and said, “You good?”

She nodded, checked her gun, and spoke behind Ryan’s back, where he couldn’t read her lips. “He comes near me or Ryan, I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t think that, Kris.”

He didn’t want her to have to kill another person. Not ever again, if he could help it.

Especially not her father. She thought she could handle it, but Tony knew different. Killing a man to save someone was a world apart from killing your father, the man you once believed could walk on water and fix any problem. It would tear her apart and she’d bury the pain so far down she wouldn’t survive. She’d already suffered so much in her short life.

She stared him in the eyes, didn’t blink. “I hate him.”

“Do what I told you, understand?” He didn’t want to get angry with her, but if she went off, blinded by revenge, it would ruin the plan. The plan was to get them safe. They couldn’t do anything with a target on their back.

“Yes, sir,” she said, teeth clenched, and started to turn away.

He grabbed her arm, forced her to again look him in the eye. “I swear to God, Kristen, if you engage Boyd now, he will win. You and Ryan will be on the road back to Los Angeles so fast your head will spin. Get to the plane and wait, understood?”

She nodded, a hint of fear in her eyes. He had never hurt her on purpose. He’d trained her, and she had the bruises to prove it. But the training was to keep her safe, to prepare her to take care of her brother if he wasn’t here.

But Kristen McIntyre Reed knew exactly who Tony was, and she should fear him. That she didn’t bothered him . . . and made him proud.

“Go,” he ordered. “Now.”

Kristen gave him an odd look—almost a challenge, as if she wasn’t going to obey. Or that she knew something that he didn’t. Then it was gone. She grabbed Ryan’s hand and ran out of the house without looking back.

***

Tony hadn’t noticed anyone following them, but he wasn’t taking chances.

“Kris, start the plane, pull it out of the hangar.” He tossed her the padlock keys. He’d made copies two years ago, when he started taking the plane out alone, and developed this backup plan if the McIntyres ever found him. “Check the gauges, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Kristen had been flying many times. His boss, Nick Lorenzo, had taken to Kris and given her a few lessons, said she was a natural. Tony knew Lorenzo had a sad story in his past—he’d heard through the longtime ranch hands that he’d lost his wife and younger son in some sort of tragic accident a decade ago—but he’d never asked the details, and Lorenzo had never offered.

Tony tied the horses to a pipe rising from the ground on the edge of the airstrip. It wasn’t much of an airport—no lights, no staff, just a couple of metal hangars that locals used. Rich folks who flew into Big Sky, mostly to ski at the resort or go hunting, used the main airstrip to the south with full-time staff and fueling services.

Tony had taken Lorenzo’s plane out last week and knew the tank was more than half full, so he wouldn’t have a problem getting to Ennis. Twenty-two miles as the crow flies. Should be a piece of cake.

Except for the winter storm warning, which troubled him. Visibility sucked, but at least the light had begun to creep over the horizon. He should be okay for the next hour, even with the gray skies, and they’d would be on the ground in Ennis long before any snow fell.

Ryan was tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder.

After putting on his pack, Tony finally turned and signed, “What?”

“The horses will die here,” Ryan signed. “You have to let them go.”

“They’ll die in the wild. It’s going to snow today.”

Ryan stared at him, his large brown eyes imploring him. Ryan had Maggie’s brown eyes. Warm, thoughtful, kind. Tony loved this kid more than his own life.

And Ryan was right. If something happened and he couldn’t call Lorenzo when they reached Ennis, the horses might be stuck here for days, maybe weeks. They wouldn’t survive.

“Get in the plane, I’ll call Mr. Lorenzo, okay?”

“You broke our phones.”

He pulled a burner phone from his pocket. “Untraceable,” he said and Ryan smiled. The kid could read lips as well as he understood sign language.

He signed, “Thank you,” then ran to the hangar.

Tony knew he shouldn’t do this, but it would take Kris a few minutes to warm up the plane, and Lorenzo was fifteen minutes from the hangar even if he drove like a bat out of hell.

Tony didn’t want to betray his employer who’d been very good to him for the last five years, but these kids were more important. He dialed his boss’s house phone. It was after six-thirty now, but Lorenzo was always up before the sun.

Two rings later. “Lorenzo.”

“It’s Tony.”

“Yep.”

“I’m borrowing your plane. It’s an emergency, I’ll call you when I land and tell you where you can pick it up. My horses are at the airstrip and I don’t want to leave them overnight.”

“Wait, Tony. What happened? Can I help?”

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t tell him the truth, not just because Tony was a fugitive, but because knowing too much could put Lorenzo and his family at risk. “My kids are in danger. I have to go.” He folded the small phone. Lorenzo was a good man and more, he loved horses. He would retrieve them. He might call the police or the FAA or whatever entity dealt with stolen planes, but by the time anyone acted, they’d be so far away no one would be able to trace him.

He watched as Kris rolled the plane out of the hangar. His eyes clouded, an odd mix of love and pain. He’d put a lot on her shoulders in the last five years. She’d grown from eleven to thirty overnight, it seemed.

She’s a McIntyre. She’s always been an old soul.

As if that explained everything. Deep down, Tony knew that it did, in part. He’d known with Ruby, Kristen’s aunt, that there was something different about her. Stronger. Better.

Kristen, the same. Except for the rage that flowed through her, she was so much like her aunt.

Ruby had felt such rage once. She had learned to control it.

Kris steered the plane over to where he stood near one end of the runway, turned, stopped, and slid over to the copilot’s seat. Ryan was sitting in the back, still looking at the horses, a frown marring his face. Sometimes Tony thought Ryan loved horses more than people.

Tony didn’t blame him.

The plane was so loud that he saw the truck speeding up the road before he heard the engine.

He couldn’t imagine that Boyd had found him so quickly—then he saw a police car behind the truck, lights flashing, another car behind that.

Boyd must have paid off one of the deputies. There was a corrupt cop in every town, even a place as small and tight as Big Sky. Tony should have anticipated it.

Tony ran to the plane and jumped into the pilot seat. “Buckle up now.”

He accelerated as fast as the plane would allow while simultaneously checking the gauges. Fuel, heading, oil—he should be good. It would be a very short flight to Ennis.

Because Kris had already started the engines and the plane had begun to warm, he picked up speed quickly, but it wasn’t like a sports car; he couldn’t go zero to sixty in six seconds.

Kristen said, “It’s Boyd, isn’t it?”

“He found us faster than I thought.” His boss hadn’t turned him in. Even if Boyd had been standing right next to Lorenzo when he called, he couldn’t have gotten here this fast.

He glanced over his shoulder. The truck was pulling up beside the plane. Tony punched it, willed the plane to gain speed. He had to be going fast enough to clear the trees at the far end of the short runway. The air was thick, wispy clouds floating around them. Visibility was bad, but not zero. Behind him, the increasing light from the rising sun helped.

He could make it. Focus on the trees, make sure he could lift high enough to clear them.

Focus, Tony. Control the plane, don’t let the plane control you.

Then he saw Boyd in the passenger seat of the truck, window down, a handgun in his grasp.

Idiot! No, no, no!

“Down!” he shouted. Kristen motioned for Ryan to get down because she knew that Tony had to keep his hands on the yoke.

He glanced to the left. Boyd was waving at him to stop the plane, a fierce look on his face. He fired at the body of the plane. What the fuck did he think he was doing?

Tony needed more speed before he could lift off the ground. He couldn’t imagine Boyd shooting at his own kids.

He just wants you to stop. He’ll kill you, take the kids.

His window shattered and pain hit him hard in his bicep. He couldn’t hear anything over the twin prop’s engines and tried to keep his head down while also making sure he could see over the controls. A warning shot. Boyd wouldn’t kill his kids. In his own twisted way, he loved Kristen and Ryan. At least, Tony had never believed Boyd would hurt them—until now, when he was shooting at them.

Suddenly, a rapid ping of bullets on metal startled him, the sound echoing. Immediately, Tony felt a burn in his chest. He’d been hit again, this time worse than the first. He bit back a scream as he worked the pedals, outpacing Boyd. Did Boyd think that shooting at the plane would make him stop and surrender? Except . . . he’d already passed Boyd in the truck, left him behind. These last bullets didn’t come from Boyd; they came from somewhere else, beyond the truck, in or on top of one of the hangars. Tony couldn’t take the time to look for the source, the end of the runway was imminent.

“Dad, you’re bleeding,” Kris said, her voice cracking in fear.

Tony glanced out the shattered window in the direction he thought the volley of bullets had come from. He glimpsed a man on the roof of the larger hangar. Was he with Boyd? All Tony could make out was that the man wore a dark hoodie; he couldn’t see his face and only had a vague sense of a lean build.

He pulled up on the yoke. The wheels of the plane cleared the trees and he breathed easier.

The post Read An Excerpt From ‘North of Nowhere’ by Allison Brennan appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

Hi, Allison! Can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?

I’m very boring – I live vicariously through my characters. In the past, I worked in the California State Legislature, but quit my job in 2005 to write full-time. I’m married, live in Arizona, and raised five children, the youngest two who are still at home (18 and 19.) I love baseball, cats, and long walks, especially in the early morning. For the longest time, I had as my short bio on Twitter, “Reader, writer, chauffeur – mom of 5, wife of 1.” That pretty much summed up my life until my kids got a drivers license!

When did you first discover your love for writing and stories?

I am an only child and got my first library card when I was four. Every week, my mom and I would go to the library and check-out books. The first book I remember falling in love with was the Trixie Belden series when I was 8, which started my love-affair with mysteries. In the 70s and early 80s we really didn’t have a lot of YA books (not like today!) so I graduated to adult fiction when I read THE STAND by Stephen King at age 13. To this day, THE STAND is one of my all-time favorite books.

Quick lightning round! Tell us the first book you ever remember reading, the one that made you want to become an author, and one that you can’t stop thinking about!

Encyclopedia Brown – first book I remember reading on my own

THE THIRD VICTIM by Lisa Gardner and THE SEARCH by Iris Johansen – I was on maternity leave when I read these books, and knew that this was exactly the genre I wanted to write – so I got serious about writing instead of it being more a hobby.

The Orphan X series by Gregg Hurwitz. I rarely get excited by books, but I listened to all 7 books this year on audiobook, and I have already pre-ordered the next. I will drop everything the day it comes out to read it.

Don’t Open the Door is the second installment in your Regan Merritt series! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?

Grieving mother; conspiracy; murder; betrayal

What can readers expect?

Don’t Open the Door stands alone even though Regan Merritt was a central character in The Sorority Murder. I took her out of her hometown of Flagstaff, Arizona where she moved after she lost her son, and brought her back to the root of her pain –to Virginia nearly a year after the murder of her only child. She had unresolved feelings about her ex-husband and the pain of losing her son, but I forced her to confront everything when her former boss, US Marshal Tommy Granger, is killed while investigating her son’s murder. Now, Regan is determined to retrace Tommy’s steps, no matter what she has to face or who she has to confront. It’s an emotional story – more emotional, I think, than I normally write – and a true mystery as Regan has to piece together clues to find the truth.

Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?

The most emotional scenes for me was writing Regan as she drove through places she’d last been with her son or remembered key moments in time. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed writing them – as a mom, it was very difficult, but important to the story. Though Regan’s dad is not a major character in this book (he was more important in the previous story), I really enjoy their relationship. It feels so real and authentic to me, so the few times he was on the page I very much enjoyed. My favorite character to create was Jenna Johns, a nurse who was helping Tommy and goes in hiding after his murder. She doesn’t have a lot of chapters, but the chapters she has were fun to write.

Do you have any advice for those who may have set some writing resolutions for the new year?

I am a big proponent of writing daily, even if it’s not for a long period of time. I believe in setting time goals (i.e. I wrote three hours every night when I was still working full-time), but some people prefer word count goals (i.e. 2,000 words a day.) But more important than daily writing is consistency. You do not find the time to write, you make the time to write. So my advice is to set a schedule – whether it’s writing two hours every night or writing all day on Sunday – and stick to it.

What’s next for you?

Quinn & Costa #4 – Seven Girls Gone – comes out in April, three months after Door. I’m currently writing (almost done!) with the fifth Quinn & Costa book, then I’m starting a new series focused on a family of private investigators set in Phoenix. I like writing two series, especially when they are distinctly different.

Lastly, are there any 2023 releases our readers should look out for?

Seven Girls Gone is April 25^th, and then my first stand alone thriller, North of Nowhere, comes out August 8!

Will you be picking up Don’t Open The Door? Tell us in the comments below!

The post Q&A: Allison Brennan, Author of ‘Don’t Open the Door’ appeared first on The Nerd Daily.

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The post Read An Excerpt From ‘The Sorority Murder’ by Allison Brennan appeared first on The Nerd Daily.