This is a virtual book blast tour stop for the mystery novel, The Vigilante, by Jacqui Morrison.
Jacqui will be awarding Loose Tea
and chip nuts to two randomly drawn commenters during the tour. To be entered to win, leave a comment below. To increase your chances of winning, visit other tour stops and leave comments there, too.
one seems to care. No one, that is, except Detective Lynette Wilton. Lynette
has been a homicide detective for only three months, and has yet to earn her
catch a killer.
the “scumbags” who prey on the vulnerable? Wanda’s beloved sister, Cathy, was
one such woman. Cathy became a porn actress and then took her own life when her
sleazy manager/boyfriend, Gil Lee, wouldn’t let her go.
debilitating illness. But Lynette believes that Wanda’s hatred and harsh
childhood make her a prime suspect, and she proves it by catching Wanda in the
act of attempting to shoot Lee.
Maxine has a different view of the accused. She wants to help Wanda get the
help that she needs, and it’s not going to happen in a prison cell.
Lynette be able to tie Wanda to Turbit’s murder as well?
a roller-coaster ride that leaves you breathless from start to finish!”
—Trey Anthony, star and producer “Da Kink in Da Hair”
Sal said, “come on in. You’re right on time. Good to meet ya.” He left the
visitor in the living room of his shabby apartment in a grungy, low-rent
building, and slipped into the kitchen. The metallic pop of a beer bottle
opening echoed in the other room. Then another.
empty beer bottles, a heaping ashtray, and assorted marijuana paraphernalia
were already strewn across his table. The grandfather clock struck four times.
Sal stumbled back into the room. “I got you a beer.”
Sal said, “I’ve got lots of great products for you to move today.” He showed
the visitor the cover of a DVD. “This one is new. It’ll sell out. She’s a real
sweet thing. Told me she was eighteen ’n had the ID to prove it. Likely just
some little tramp from nowhere-ville. Came to the big, bad city for
metal felt cool as the visitor pulled out a gun.
the hell?” Sal screamed, just before the bullet penetrated his skull.
fell onto the sofa, blood oozing out the back of his head. His face was
contorted, almost angry looking. Certainly surprised.
spent cartridge from the handgun ricocheted against a metal garbage
can––reminiscent of the pop of a beer cap––and then landed on the carpet.
murderer studied the victim’s splayed body, feeling a sense of elation and
satisfaction. Out came a Swiss Army knife, and the killer wordlessly hacked off
a section of Sal’s hair, stuffed it into a small plastic bag, and then threw it
into a knapsack. The killer then picked up the half-spilled beer that Sal had
been handing over when the shot was fired. Perfect. Grinning, the murderer
chugged the beer, retrieved the spent cartridge, and smugly looked at Sal
Turbit’s still body, now surrounded by pooling blood.
wearing leather gloves, the murderer put the beer bottle and hot metal bullet
charge into a knapsack and fled, smiling, into the dense night.
writing poems and short stories as a child. I also enjoyed public speaking in
elementary school and at University. In High School, a great teacher, Lenore
Hawley, inspired me and in 1995 I pursued my life-long passion for writing.
owning an ice cream parlour and fine food shop, teaching life-skills management
to adults, teaching computer applications, social service work and marketing.
survivors of domestic violence in both criminal and family court as a support
worker. I’ve always had a strong interest in law and justice.
writing or encouraging others to fulfill their writing dreams. I facilitate
writing seminars for Canadore College and various agencies.
Canada with my daughter Alison, my husband Wayne, and a three-legged dog named
Willow. Our daughter has convinced us to adopt four cats so Felix, Sasha, Nikke
and Angel round out our family. Angel, at four-months-of-age was abandoned by
its owner and we rescued her in -15 degree weather.
animal rescue work or sales … because I’m not really a cat person and she’s
persuaded me to adopt four.
and Irene Morrison. Mom was a family physician and a competitive swimmer. My
father worked for the Provincial Parole Board. Dad enjoyed to write fictional
stories in his spare time. He was my mentor, my editor and my hero. I have one
sister named Trish. She is a competitive swimming coach. Trish resides in
southern Ontario with her husband, four children, two dogs and a cat.
cruise Georgian Bay on our boat or spend quality family time.