Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Book Review for Cold as a Wedge!

Review of Cold as a Wedge by Author Alliance's Maiola Jay


Cold as a Wedge is an engaging mystery with a commendable attention to detail. Centered around Detective J.D. Reiter and his investigation of a local homicide, Cold as a Wedge clearly illustrates the strategy and intricacies of police procedure without overwhelming you in descriptions. It's story and characters are intriguing. The author takes such care to ensure that the characters represent the attitudes and principles of small town America in the 1970's. J.D. is flawed and chauvinistic, but still likable as a product of his time. 

The close of Cold as a Wedge leaves unanswered questions about J.D. so I anticipate more cases from Detective Reiter and look forward to continuing this series. 

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Step Into J.D.'s World

Excerpt from Chapter 6 of Cold as a Wedge


     Around seven o'clock, J.D. left his father to his glass of brandy and hopped into his truck. As he began driving away from the solace of his childhood home, slowly the case began seeping back into his psyche. 
       "What was she doing there in the woods?" J.D. murmured to himself. Did someone lure her there, or was she followed? Mac and Slim didn't turn anything else up today... When he reached Southaven, instead of making a left and heading home,  he drove straight on down the pike towards Leedom Park. Darkness settled in now, almost mocking the lack of progress they'd made in the investigation so far. 
       As J.D turned down the lane into the park, he kept his eyes trained on the treeline for any signs of movement. There was nothing. Not even grazing deer milling about at the edge of the tree dotted field. He drove over the short bridge and into the park, further than he'd gone the night before. Up on his right was a small gravel parking lot, where the Cornells' car was found. J.D. half expected to see it there, but it was picked up yesterday after it was examined for evidence. J.D. drove to the end of the lot where it met the woods, and backed his truck into an unmarked spot. 
       Based on the report Charlie wrote up, Pamela Cornell was parked directly across from where J.D. sat now. He cut off the engine and pushed in the metal knob to extinguish the headlights. It was common practice for police to revisit the scene of a crime around the same time of day the incident occurred in order to note the traffic. If someone generally went there on a given day or at a given time, odds are they might have been a witness to what happened. 
       For a moment, J.D. sat behind the wheel, scanning his surroundings. All seemed still. He got out of the truck and as quietly as he could, closed the heavy metal door. While he was thankful for the moonlight, it was still pretty dark there in the park. He lit up a cigarette and took a drag. For a beat, he closed his eyes and listened. Crickets chirped a tentative serenade, as if at any moment now their chorus should be silenced. A light breeze barely jostled the freshly sprouted leaves on the trees. It was cool, requiring every bit of the lightweight jacket he wore. J.D. could almost sense himself melding into the surrounding forestry. He opened his eyes, finding they adjusted quickly to the shadowy terrain. 
       Through the trees he could see a pair of headlights make their way down the pike, but instead of continuing on their way, J.D. saw them turn down the lane into the park. Each muscle sensed with confrontation. He flicked his cigarette into the gravel and grabbed his heavy duty Maglite from beneath the bench seat of the truck. Closing the door quietly, J.D. stealthily slipped into the cover of the tree line. He could feel the blood throbbing in his temples. From his vantage point, J.D. couldn't make out any details about the vehicle other than it being smaller in size. The car moved with the slow flow of a funeral procession. It came to the bridge, then rolled to a stop. J.D. crept along, stepping from heel to toe among the legion of oaks. The headlights blinked the vehicle into darkness. As J.D. drew closer, he could see a figure exit the car, accompanied by a small beam of illumination from a flashlight. 
       The figure crossed the bridge and made its way over to the creek in the opposite direction of the crime scene. J.D. was no more than ten yards away from the creek now, having moved undetected across the lane and back onto the soft ground. His lungs tightened as he reached for his .357 Magnum. He could feel that bad boy set snug in the holster. He took a step forward, fingers poised for action. As he moved closer, he could now see that the figured belonged to that of a female. His shoulders eased some and his hand drifted away from his gun. Instead, he aimed his Maglite at the prowler. He threw his voice forward in a commanding bark. 
       "You mind telling me what you're doing here?"

For more, download Cold as a Wedge by K.H. Miller on Amazon for $0.99!