Book Showcase: COUNTDOWN by Carey Baldwin

Countdown

by Carey Baldwin

on Tour November 27 – December 31, 2017



Synopsis:


Countdown by Carey Baldwin

The next pulse-pounding Cassidy and Spenser thriller from USA Today bestselling author Carey Baldwin!


Don’t believe everything you see.

Special Agent Atticus Spenser and forensic psychiatrist Dr. Caitlin Cassidy are in Tahiti enjoying a much-needed break from the FBI when they spot newlyweds taking fun photos on the beach. But as the groom carries his bride deeper into the waves, Spense is positive he sees a flash of terror cross her face. All his instincts scream that this woman is in danger. Yet moments later, it’s the groom who has nearly drowned… and the bride has vanished, leaving a bloody wedding dress floating in her wake.

The authorities aren’t sure who to believe—the groom, who insists his wife tried to murder him… or her twin, who claims her sister must have acted in self-defense. Intrigued, Spense and Caity agree to help investigate. But when they discover that the missing bride is the daughter of a notorious confidence man, they begin to suspect that all is not what it seems. Now they’ll need to separate victim from villain, fact from fiction, truth from lie, to determine if there’s really a killer on the loose… or if it’s all one big con.



Book Details:


Genre: Mystery
Published by: Witness Impulse
Publication Date: November 28th 2017
Number of Pages: 352
ISBN: 0062495631 (ISBN13: 9780062495631)
Series: Cassidy & Spenser #5
Purchase Links: Amazon  | Barnes & Noble  | Goodreads 


Read an excerpt:



Chapter 1

Six Months Earlier

Late Morning

Riverbend, Texas

For the second time since Rose Parker entered her target’s backyard, the Ruger LCP nearly slipped from her sweat-slicked shaky grip.

Damn nerves.

Careful to maintain her hold on the pistol, she halted, wiped her palms on her jeans, one at a time, and then resumed forward progress. Papa hadn’t raised her to be a weak-willed helpless woman. If only he were here to give her a steadying slap—because she was going to take care of Tommy Preston or die trying.

Scratch that.

Dying wasn’t an option.

Then there would be no one left to get the job done.

Suddenly, the pulse in her ears seemed loud enough to burst her eardrums.

You don’t have to do this.

She checked out her toes. Dust obscured the newness of the two-sizes-too-big men’s Nikes that had arrived in the mail yesterday.

Yes, you do.

A bitter taste worked its way up the back of her throat. She spat onto the ground and instantly regretted it. Could they get DNA from dirt-spit? Better keep her saliva to herself from here on out, just to be on the safe side. She wasn’t worried about shoe prints though. If documented as evidence, these would only mislead the cops—something that was easy to do, and a skill she’d mastered at a too-young age.

She pulled her shoulders high and tilted her face up. The rays of the white, west Texas sun had blanched the color from the heavens, changing them into a transparent film. Sweat trickling down her forehead stung when it reached her eyes. Longing to shuck out of every stitch of clothing on her body, she unbuttoned the top of her blouse. Weird how claustrophobia could hit you out in the open like this, but the soaring temperatures and the sheer, heat-wrinkled sky made her feel as though she were trapped in a giant earthen bowl covered by Saran Wrap.

Gulping hot air to prove there really was oxygen to be had, she shaded her eyes. Her Ray-Bans would be nice to have right about now, but she had no purse to dump them in, and when it came time to set that bastard in her sights she couldn’t afford to have glasses slipping down her nose. Even on a good day at the shooting range with no pressure on her, she wasn’t a great marksman. So under circumstances like these, any distraction would add an unnecessary layer of risk.

Up ahead, a column of dust lifted off the ground, stretched vertically, and then spun itself into a dust devil.

Willing her heartbeat to slow and her mind to still, she curled her finger a hair’s breadth away from the Ruger’s trigger.

Settle down.

To kill a man she needed her head level and her blood as frosty as that mug of beer she’d been wishing for even though it was not yet noon.

You can take care of your own self, girl. Don’t let anybody tell you different.

She had to give Papa his due about one thing—he’d set no stock in the notion that a woman was less than. Sis claimed that had just been his excuse to be harder on them than he would’ve been on any son. But Rose disagreed—yet one more example of how she and Sis didn’t always see eye-to-eye. The way she looked at it, Papa had done them a favor by teaching them to live by their wits. Sure, they’d paid a high price for the lesson, and yes, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t carry on the Parker family’s vocation once Papa was gone, but at least life with him had prepared her to outsmart any trouble that came her way. So, no, it didn’t matter if she couldn’t match Tommy’s physical strength—she had a gun.

***


Excerpt from Countdown by Carey Baldwin. Copyright © 2017 by Carey Baldwin. Reproduced with permission from Witness Impulse. All rights reserved.




More About Carey Baldwin:


Carey Baldwin

CAREY BALDWIN is a mild-mannered doctor by day and an award-winning author of edgy suspense by night. She holds two doctoral degrees, one in medicine and one in psychology. A USA Today bestselling author, she loves reading and writing stories that keep you off balance and on the edge of your seat. Carey lives in the southwestern United States with her amazing family. In her spare time, she enjoys hiking and chasing wildflowers.




Carey loves to hear from readers so please visit her website (www.CareyBaldwin.com), her Facebook page (facebook.com/CareyBaldwinAuthor), or her Twitter feed (twitter.com/CareyBaldwin)!






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Giveaway:



This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Carey Baldwin and Witness Impulse. There will be 3 winners of one (1) physical copy of Carey Baldwin’s 4th Cassidy & Spenser Thriller, Stolen. The giveaway begins on November 27 and runs through January 1, 2018. It is open to US residents only.


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Book Showcase: STOLEN by Carey Baldwin

Stolen

by Carey Baldwin

on Tour February 14 – March 3, 2017



Synopsis:


Stolen by Carey Baldwin

Is she missing…or a murderer?


When Laura Chaucer, daughter of a U.S. senator, vanishes from her college campus, celebrated FBI profilers Special Agent Atticus Spenser and forensic psychiatrist Dr. Caitlin Cassidy are called in. Thirteen years ago, Laura and her nanny disappeared from her family’s Denver home. Laura was found alive, but her nanny wasn’t so lucky… and the killer was never caught. Laura could identify him—if only she didn’t have a deep, dark hole in her memory.

Now she’s missing again. Did the troubled young woman run away or has the kidnapper returned? As women who look eerily similar to Laura’s nanny begin turning up dead, the Chaucer family psychiatrist renders a disturbing opinion: Laura is unstable, a danger to herself and others. Who knows what terrible secrets lurk in the shadowy recesses of her mind? Cassidy and Spenser must solve one of the most infamous cold cases ever to uncover the answer: Is Laura a killer, or is a monster still out there, waiting to claim another victim?



Book Details:


Genre: Suspense, Thriller
Published by: Witness Impulse
Publication Date: February 14th 2017
Number of Pages: 352
ISBN:  0062495542 (ISBN13: 9780062495549)
Series: Cassidy & Spenser #4
Purchase Links: Amazon  | Barnes & Noble  | Goodreads 




Read an excerpt:



Chapter One


Twilight

Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains

    Consciousness was the enemy and Laura Chaucer its captive. No matter how badly she wanted to flee into a dark, unseeing void, the menacing chill of the knife pressed against her neck forced her to keep her chin high and her eyes open. As her pulse raged, pounding against the deadly blade, she wondered, horrified, if it was possible for her throat to slit itself.

    If only her mind would drop into an abyss. If only she could crawl into a black hole and escape awareness, at least then she wouldn’t suffer. Cowardice dragged her eyelids shut.

    Stop running away.

    From deep within, a voice demanded she bear witness to her own death. Like broken wings beating against a gale, her eyelids fluttered up. Evil had been swirling around her for as long as she could remember, but she’d never had the courage to face it. Now, in her last moments, she must find the will. Before she left this twisted world, she needed to know the truth.


    Who are you?

    The answer she’d been running from her entire life loomed right behind her.

    But the knife prevented her from swiveling her head to confront the bastard. A defiant move like that would surely cost her whatever precious seconds she had left. His breath, warm on her cheek reeked of booze, its stench curdling in her already woozy stomach.

    Careful not to move her head, she braved a glance down and noted a wood floor.

    Where am I?

    A candle nub flickered in the dark; its yellow light illuminating patches of dust caked on an uneven plank tabletop. Bare log walls surrounded her. Eager for more clues, she sniffed. The scent of rain and earth hung heavily in the air. He must’ve stolen her from her room and brought her to a cabin—a primitive one.

    Who was he?

    You know, the voice within insisted. Stop pretending you don’t.

    “I-I don’t know anything,” she answered, as if he and her thoughts were one and the same. “P-please, just let me go.”
     The knife slipped across her throat, leaving fire trailing in its wake. Blood, warm and sticky, dribbled down her chest. Her head became heavy. The room spun. It would be so easy to let her chin fall, to drift into blessed unconsciousness, to leave it all behind.

    But that would mean dying the same way she’d lived: running from the truth.

    It’s not too late. As long as you have one breath left, there’s still time to change your craven ways.

    Watching the blood, already darkening from contact with the air, snake between her breasts, she took it all in, and a gasp agonized its way up her throat.

    She was naked.

    Bound around the waist, chest and ankles to a chair.

    It all seemed so…unreal. But the scrape of splintered wood beneath her bottom, the shivers that wracked her body from the frigid air, told her this was no dream. This wasn’t another one of her ubiquitous nightmares.

    If she closed her eyes now, she’d never wake up.

    Her throat burned with the urge to scream. But sensing that might give him pleasure, she clamped her teeth together, stuffing her fear down deep. She inhaled a fortifying breath through her nose. Wiggled her freezing fingers. But when she tried to shift her arms into a more comfortable position, she found that they, too, were tied to the chair, just up to the elbows. He’d left her hands and lower arms free, giving her enough slack to cross her palms in her lap and cover herself. Tears of gratitude for this small kindness welled in her eyes.

    Maybe he of the knife had a tiny, shriveled semblance of a heart.

    He proved he did not by dragging the jagged blade across her neck again—a shallow retracing of its former path that produced exquisite pain and more hot red blood. The need to cry out shook her body so hard the legs of the chair rattled against the floor. Then he pressed the knife’s point into the hollow of her neck—that spot that ought to be reserved for a lover’s kiss. It was as if this monster could not decide whether he wanted to kill her with a long, decimating swipe or by a swift, stabbing impalement. She didn’t know whether he was deliberately prolonging her agony or working up his nerve.

    A spasm of fear knotted her toes. Her vocal chords trembled from the impossible effort of restraint. Finally, she opened her mouth, releasing a hysterical noise.

    He wanted to hear her scream? Let him hear her laugh instead. Her pulse bounded harder against the blade, but she no longer feared the consequence.

    Whether he revealed himself to her or not, she suddenly didn’t care. It didn’t matter who he was. It only mattered who she was. Relief flooded her entire being, drenching her in joy. Her death would be a victory.

    Because it answered, once and for all, the question that had haunted her since the age of eight.

    She was not a murderer.



Excerpt from Stolen by Carey Baldwin.  
Copyright © 2017 by Carey Baldwin & WitnessImpulse. 
Reproduced with permission from WitnessImpulse. 
All rights reserved.






Kudos for Carey Baldwin:



Judgment, the first book in my Cassidy & Spenser Thriller series, has been named one of the “BEST BOOKS of 2014” by SUSPENSE MAGAZINE

Both Judgment & Confession are BOOKSELLERS BEST AWARD Finalists
Judgment is a DAPHNE DU MAURIER AWARD FOR EXCELLENCE IN MYSTERY/SUSPENSE Finalist and a SILVER FALCHION finalist.


Author Bio:


Carey Baldwin

Carey Baldwin is a mild-mannered doctor by day and an award-winning author of edgy suspense by night. She holds two doctoral degrees, one in medicine and one in psychology. She loves reading and writing stories that keep you off balance and on the edge of your seat. Carey lives in the southwestern United States with her amazing family. In her spare time, she enjoys hiking and chasing wildflowers.


Catch Up With Ms. Baldwin On:





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Giveaway:


This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours for Carey Baldwin and William Morrow | WitnessImpulse. There will be 5 US winners of one (1) eBook copy of Stolen by Carey Baldwin. The giveaway begins on February 12th and runs through March 5th, 2017.

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Book Showcase: NOTORIOUS by Carey Baldwin


Notorious


by Carey Baldwin


on Tour April 5 – May 13, 2016





Notorious by Carey BaldwinThe woman everyone loves to hate is dead.

Dallas socialite Cynthia Langhorne is infamous for her beauty, her philanthropy, and her home wrecking—until she’s found shot through the heart and posed nude at a fundraising ball. The case is high profile, and there’s a bigger problem: Cindy is the wife of a decorated FBI special agent—the prime suspect in her murder.


When the Bureau sends FBI profiler Atticus Spenser and forensic psychiatrist Dr. Caitlin Cassidy to Texas on behalf of Dutch Langhorne, the special agent-turned-suspect, they’re suspicious of the very man whose interests they’re supposed to protect. But with a psycho hitman on their heels and a trail of evidence leading up the food chain, it quickly becomes clear this is no ordinary case. The truth points to someone—or something—larger than Spenser and Cassidy ever thought possible. Solving this case is no longer a matter of clearing Dutch’s name—it’s a matter of national security.



Book Details:


Genre:  Psychological Thriller
Published by:   Witness Impulse
Publication Date:   Feb 2, 2016
Number of Pages:  336
ISBN:   006238709X (ISBN13: 9780062387097)
Series: Cassidy & Spenser #3
Purchase Links: Amazon  Barnes & Noble  Goodreads


Want to know more about Notorious? Read this excerpt:


CHAPTER 1



Sunday, October 13

10:00 P.M.

Dallas, Texas



When heading for a secret rendezvous with her lover, it simply wouldn’t do to appear to be sneaking off. So it was with a proud, unflinching spine, that Cynthia Beasley Langhorne ascended the grand staircase at the Worthington Mansion—one of Dallas’s most celebrated historic landmarks.

Golden light from opulent chandeliers flooded the plush, red carpet runner on the steps, giving her the eerie feeling she was wading into a river of blood. To keep from tripping, she lifted her Stella McCartney gown above her ankles. Its blue silk-chiffon swooshed, whispering secrets against her skin and tickling her bare legs. The mingled scents of money, power, and perfume floated up from the ballroom, along with the strains of Mozart and crashing cymbals. To those looking on with interest, and there were plenty of gawking eyes fixed on her, she supposed she appeared to be gliding with ease. But in truth, the crushing weight of her charmed life made each demure step as tortuous as a death march.

Bracing herself with a deep breath, she cast a glance over her shoulder at her handsome, unreachable husband, who was posted in the middle of the marble foyer below. She kept her head turned long enough to catch Dutch’s eye, allowing a few paparazzi to capture her impenetrable smile. Mona Lisa had nothing on her. No one would ever guess her thoughts or her true purpose—at least so far, no one ever had. And that was her curse in life. Blessed with wealth and notoriety, her heart would remain forever unseen, her diary her only confidante.

In spite of her determination, her steps slowed involuntarily, giving Dutch every chance to stop her. If he had so much as raised an eyebrow at her, she might’ve turned back and run straight for his arms. But, of course, he didn’t, and his indifference bolstered her faltering courage. She tossed her head, knowing the effect of her silky, auburn hair swinging across her bare shoulders would be dazzling. The music lulled, as if paying its respects like a gentleman rising to his feet when a lady exits the room. A flurry of flashing lights was accompanied by the electric sound of cameras clicking.

When her husband had asked her where she was going, she’d answered truthfully, “I’m meeting Matthew Cambridge, darling. I promise I won’t be long.”

Dutch’s eyes had glinted dangerously—but only for a moment. Then he sent her an insouciant smile. “Tell Matt that I’m the one who brought you to this god-awful-boring fund-raiser, and I’d like to dance with my wife at some point, let’s say before midnight.”

“Before midnight it is,” she’d promised.

Then he’d taken her hand, and she’d willed him not to let it go—not to let her go. But let her go he did.

Now a resigned sigh escaped her lips because it was too late for regrets. Her husband was married to his work. His passion was reserved for the FBI, and there was nothing to be done about that. Though she would give her own life to protect the damnable fool, the separate paths she and Dutch had chosen were paved with the cold stone of one irrefutable truth.

He doesn’t love me.

As her brown eyes locked with his frosty blue ones, she raised her chin and blinked away the moisture that blurred her vision. When her chest tightened, she commanded her body to relax, then raised her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. She turned her back fully, then continued her march—not because she didn’t love her husband but because she did.

And because if she didn’t go through with this, the only thing that mattered would be destroyed.

Up the stairs, down the hall, and behind a closed bedroom door, she shed her clothing. She folded her silks, laying them neatly on a side chair, then hung her delicate gown in the closet. A chill seeped down to her bones, and a shiver swept over her. Without her garments, she felt as vulnerable as a soldier going into battle without armor.

But she had no choice.

The cost of defeat would be unbearably high.

Naked now, she arranged herself seductively on the bed, pressing her hand on her stomach to suppress the wave of anticipatory nausea. Pretending she was somewhere else, she closed her eyes. A creak of floorboards signaled her paramour’s approach. The door whooshed open. She steeled her resolve and forced her eyelids up.

But what she saw, there, in the doorway, turned her blood to ice and froze a scream, forever, in her throat.


© 2016  Witness Impulse & Carey Baldwin



Author Bio:

GREAT NEWS! Judgment, the first book in my Cassidy & Spenser Thriller series, has been named one of the “BEST BOOKS of 2014” by SUSPENSE MAGAZINE. 

Both Judgment & Confession are BOOKSELLERS BEST AWARD Finalists 

Judgment is a DAPHNE DU MAURIER AWARD FOR EXCELLENCE IN MYSTERY/SUSPENSE Finalist and a SILVER FALCHION finalist.

Carey Baldwin is a mild-mannered doctor by day and an award-winning author of edgy suspense by night. She holds two doctoral degrees, one in medicine and one in psychology. She loves reading and writing stories that keep you off balance and on the edge of your seat. Carey lives in the southwestern United States with her amazing family. In her spare time, she enjoys hiking and chasing wildflowers.


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