Ah, this one is close to my heart. Wild Crime wraps up the story of Meredith Lowe, who is accused of murdering her husband in book one, Crime and Paradise. There’s another dark mystery in Meredith’s life and she sets out to solve it in this final book of the Wild Crime series.
Wild Crime releases December 4 and pre-orders have started. Currently, you can buy through Amazon, iBooks, and Barnes and Noble. Links to other distributors, such as Kobo, Google Play and Walmart are coming soon.
Here are current links:
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/wild-crime/id1482591716
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wild-crime-julie-howard/1134112545?ean=9781509228638
Blurb from Wild Crime:
“I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer.”
Those three repeated words discovered in an old letter propel Meredith Lowe in a cross-country pursuit to unveil her mother’s murky past. Danger stalks Meredith back to Hay City, Idaho as she peels apart the mystery: who is her father, and did her mother kill him? In finding the answer, will a growing love slip through her fingers?
Past merges with the present as the story races to its stunning conclusion.
And here’s a first-look excerpt:
Her hair fell below her waist, ripped free of its ties and weighed down by the warm, lashing rain. The sky-blue dress, so carefully chosen for this night and tried on so many times in her bedroom, was ruined. One strap had torn from her shoulder and dangled down her back. Mud splattered the hem. Sweet Cantaloupe lipstick, a lovely coral that heightened the green in her eyes, was smeared like a bruise on one cheek. She ran.
The high school gym behind her, decorated in crepe paper and curtains, vibrated with electric guitars and teen-aged hormones. Couples gyrated on the dance floor and then disappeared into dark corners. It was late and the Spring Dance was in full throttle. No one would miss her for hours.
Before her, trees dripped moss, barely visible in the darkness. She envisioned the moss brushing her shoulders, low branches snagging in her hair, the possibility of snakes both at her feet and above; this made her hesitate. It would take one scream, one gasp, and he would find her.
To her right was the even more daunting, murky swamp filled with alligators and snapping turtles. Impassable. Unthinkable.
The only choice was to turn left into the open. Not far off were the sand dunes where hills would offer shelter. Panting heavily now, she glanced behind her, blinking rain from her eyelashes. A shadow shifted and her vision blurred. How many drinks had there been? Only two, maybe three; four if you counted the one she gulped in the parking lot before the dance, to get the party started. She drew in a deep breath, the thick air oppressive and smelling of rot.
She wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest, to give up this unending pursuit. Some animals did that, didn’t they? Finally admit defeat and submit to their fate.
She once wrote a paper on “pursuit predation” for a high school English class and became fascinated in how various beasts engage in attacks and counterattacks. Honeybees, for instance, conquer hornets, their primary foe, by swarming a lone hornet. Clustering around, the honeybees vibrate their abdomens to create heat, thereby cooking their enemy to death. Cheetahs win by speed, lions by ambush, ants by swarm.
Dragonflies, she discovered, are among the most strategic and successful hunters. Instead of heading directly toward a target, they predict where their prey would flee and adjust their flight pattern in advance. They almost never lose their prey. Her teacher gave her an ‘A’ for the paper, the only one she received that semester .
The shadow behind her grew larger until it took on the shape of a man, growing closer and closer. He’d angled to intercept her. The dunes were within reach; she was nearly there. The ocean’s steady roar hid the whimpers now surfacing with each of her breaths. She stumbled and fell. In a flash he was on her, gripping her loosened hair in a tight fist.
“Little rabbit,” he crooned in her ear, the hateful nickname he gave her when she was twelve.
She screamed but the sound was carried away by the wind.
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