Top O' The Mornin' To Ya!

Happy St. Paddy's Day and the pot o' gold is waiting in for ya in the form of a free download giveaway, see details farther down. My name is Manus McGill, here to be your guest for a sneak peak into the writing of Bobbye Terry (did ye know she has a lot o' Irish in her on her mother's side? Too bad her father's had all the Scottish). She writes under different names, so look out for Daryn Cross books and Terry Campbell ones. She even did a bit of collaboration on Alyssa Lyons' first book, just is na' writing the series. Take a look at the books above me. They're all hers, though she shares the anthologies with other writers.

Today, she asked I share a tidbit from her book, Buried on Briny Bay. She be givin' away a free download, she is, format is your choice. So make sure you comment for a chance to win.

Check out the excerpt below about the fella in the hotel room bed. Do you think he had a wee bit too much green beer?

Excerpt:
Hesitating at the door to Room 225, Trixie knocked. The door creaked open a couple of inches and stopped. They stood there, looking at each other. Roxie strained to hear any movement inside. “Maybe he isn’t there.”

“The door’s open and the guy at the desk said he was in his room.”

Roxie shrugged. “Maybe he sneaked out when the guy wasn’t looking.”

Trixie exhaled sharply. “Come on Rox, nobody leaves their door open when they leave.” She pushed the door. As it swung open, they saw a body under the covers in bed. “Mr. Albright? Is it okay if we come in?”

“Frank, Frank, it’s Roxie. We just wanted to talk to you.” Roxie waited for a response that didn’t come. “Boy, he’s a sound sleeper. I wish I could do that. I wake up at the sound of a pin dropping. Then it’s up and down every couple of hours. I’m beginning to wonder if I have Fibromyalgia…”

“Would you please shut up! For Pete’s sake, what would make him got to sleep and not even lock his door. Do you think he got drunk?”

Roxie nodded her agreement. “Maybe, but he’s not snoring. Can you smell alcohol?” She took a delicate whiff of the air. “They say you can smell it a mile away if you don’t drink, and I only have a glass of wine now and again. I don’t smell anything.”