Guest Post! Leslie Marshman
Leslie Marshman
The Crystal Creek Mystery Series
Hey y’all,
Thanks for stopping by to learn a little bit more about me and the books I write.
I was born in northern California, and was sleeping in a tent and holding a fishing pole almost before I could walk. After moving to Oregon and then southern California, my family finally settled in Colorado. I called Denver home until I married a Texan without reading the fine print.
Luckily, the man I married loved to camp and fish too. My storybook romance involved a marriage proposal while baiting a hook, a wedding gift of a new rod and reel, a trousseau that included an army jacket from a military surplus store, and a three-week honeymoon in a sleeping bag. (I’m what you’d call low maintenance.)
But my move to Texas was definitely a challenge. Within the first few months I experienced February temps in the 90’s, humidity like a Swedish sauna, fire ants, giant flying cockroaches, a rogue armadillo chasing my poodle, and a copperhead slithering across the yard.
My husband heard tearful exclamations of “I can’t believe you dragged me to this hellhole!” more than once. (Full disclaimer: I still run screaming from giant flying cockroaches.)
But I refused to spend the rest of my life hating where I live. Life is too damn short for that.
So I began to look for the beauty in Texas. Spanish moss hanging from oak trees. Sunsets that stretch to the horizon. Birds, frogs, lizards, and flowers in the middle of winter instead of snow. (And I really, really love snow!) I immersed myself in the history and culture of my new home, and when I started writing my first novel it seemed only natural to set it in Texas.
I write strong, kickass heroines. They don’t need a man to save them, but they just might have a hankering for a hero who’s worthy of their affection. (Don’t we all?!)
Goode Over Evil, the first book in my Crystal Creek Mystery series, was released in September 2019. I wanted Samantha Goode to be in law enforcement at the state bureau of investigation level. In the Lone Star State that means the Texas Rangers.
As soon as I started researching the Rangers, I was hooked. Their history is colorful, filled with scandals as well as heroes. And because there are very few female Texas Rangers, Sam butts heads with her co-workers as well as the bad guys.
In Goode Over Evil, Sam reluctantly returns to her hometown of Crystal Creek for a funeral, but tragedy keeps her there indefinitely. There’s drug smuggling, murder, and general mayhem.
She also has to face rancher Clay Barnett, the man she left behind when she hightailed it out of Crystal Creek twelve years earlier.
Excerpt from Goode Over Evil:
Sam’s paracord bracelet caught on the display rack of candy by the register. It toppled and crashed to the floor.
Crap! She squatted and grabbed packages of gum while cylinders of mints rolled away. Her cheeks burned and she gritted her teeth as laughter filled the room.
She kept her eyes downcast, intent on the floor in front of her. Her left hand cupped what she’d already collected against her chest as she duck-walked forward, stretching her fingers toward a tube of Life Savers rolling just beyond her reach.
The worn toe of a large cowboy boot stopped the candy. Startled, Sam snatched back her hand and lost her balance. She fell on her butt, once again dumping her stash of gum and mints.
She blew out a breath and swept her long hair out of her eyes. Beginning with the scuff-marked boots in front of her, Sam’s gaze crept up long, straight legs in snug-fitting jeans. Her eyes stalled right below belt level.
“Need a little help, darlin’?”
The jeans bent at the knees and Sam came face-to-face with her past. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest, then seemed to stop beating completely.
“Clay?” Samantha searched his face for traces of the boy she had once loved. The softness of youth was gone, replaced by angles and lines and rugged handsomeness. The slight cleft in his chin had deepened, and his gentle gray eyes had hardened to steel.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me, Sam.” Clayton Barnett’s deep drawl made parts of her tingle that hadn’t in way too long.
“I... didn’t see your face.”
“I noticed.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. That sexy, perfect mouth that had long ago taught her how to kiss.
Clay grabbed her under the arms and lifted her effortlessly. Then he held her, his thumbs brazenly close to what were no longer his to touch. But she remembered that touch. And missed it.
Sam shrugged from his grasp and steadied her wobbly knees. “Thanks, but I can stand on my own two feet.”
Clay’s smile slid away. “You always could, Sam. Too damn well, sometimes.”
In The Goode Fight, the second book in the series which came out on June 9th, Texas Ranger Samantha Goode is on the trail of a demented killer. To make matters worse, interrogating the residents of Crystal Creek isn’t making it easy for Sam to fit back into the town she’d left years earlier. A lifetime of being the outsider has left its scars, and Sam is battling her inner demons even while she’s cuffing the bad guys.
The first body is found on the hunting ranch owned by the family of her best friend, Air Force sniper Nicole Chance.
Excerpt from The Goode Fight:
A turkey buzzard, its head as red and raw as an open wound, rode the thermal current in a slow spiral. Texas Ranger Samantha Goode took a sharp turn too fast, her Jeep Wrangler fishtailing on the dirt road. She fought to control the skid, barely noticing the faded Last Chance Ranch sign as she passed beneath it. Slowing as she rounded the windbreak of fifteen-foot yaupon trees, Sam drove past the main house and pond, leaving a cloud of dust to drift over the storm-damaged bunkhouse.
She’d promised to help Nicole Chance clear a stretch of land and plant a winter food plot for the deer on the Chance family’s hunting ranch. But after a long night of great sex and very little sleep, Sam had still been dead to the world in Clay Barnett’s bed when her phone rang. Though Sam had felt like the world’s worst friend for oversleeping, Nic hadn’t been calling to give her shit about being late.
She spotted Nic’s battered Ford Bronco parked on the shoulder of the narrow road. As soon as she stopped and climbed out of her Jeep, her ranger instincts kicked in. She paused a moment to listen, her gaze sweeping the area, right hand hovering near the gun on her hip.
Crossing the road, Sam pushed into thick brush, stopping short of the clearing. Nic stood near a stand of live oaks, her head on a constant swivel to check her surroundings, her long, black braid flipping with each movement. When a twig snapped beneath Sam’s foot, Nic spun and dropped into a knife-fighting stance, her hunting blade at the ready, reflexes well-honed from years as an Air Force sniper.
“It’s me,” Sam called as she made her way closer.
Her friend straightened, features smoothing with relief. Nic was tough. She’d seen things in Afghanistan that to this day she refused to talk about, yet she’d deployed time after time. But right here, right now, it was obvious what she’d found on a remote part of her own ranch had shaken her.
“Where is she?” Sam moved past Nic, shielding her eyes against the rising sun as she peered across the field.
Nic gestured toward a huge tree. The live oak’s full branches stretched out in every direction, creating an intimate area beneath it. Perfect for children’s tea parties, lovers’ picnics, and apparently the disposal of dead bodies. “I may have left some footprints up to this point, but I stopped and backed up as soon as I saw her.”
A shadow slid across the sun and Sam eyed the raptor still circling above. “I’m glad you found her before the birds did. Otherwise, we’d be piecing her together like a jigsaw puzzle.”
She started across the field toward the tree, Nic next to her. They gave the area a wide berth, circling around to the north. Still thirty feet away, a pale form took shape at the base of the trunk. As they moved closer, details came into focus.
The young woman lay face up, flattening the wild grass and weeds beneath her. Her hair, long and dark like Nic’s, stretched across her shoulders and down to her hips. A few strands rose in the early morning breeze, as if refusing to surrender their hold on this world. Dressed in what looked like a modest white nightgown, hands clasped over her flat stomach and legs pressed chastely together, the woman looked almost peaceful. As if she’d just lain down to rest and fallen asleep. Until one got to the gaping holes where her eyes had once been.
A chill raced down Sam’s spine despite the Indian summer heat. As a cop, she’d seen the horrific things people could do to each other. But this was a first.
“Do you know who she is?”
“Never seen her before.” Nic cleared her throat. “You think a bird got her eyes?”
Sam shook her head. “If it had been a bird, there’d be more damage to her face. It almost looks like they were surgically removed.” She glanced at Nic. “I think whoever killed her took her eyes.”
“Sick.” Nic’s lip curled in distaste. “That was done after she was dead, right?”
Not wanting to guess at the why or the when, Sam shrugged. “You and I both know there are some crazy-ass people in this world.” She squinted at something across the woman’s forehead. “What’s that?” She moved closer and hunkered down for a better view.
A wilted dandelion chain encircled the woman’s head like a macabre crown, set with ruby red gems of dried blood.
“Sweet Jesus,” Nic whispered. “It’s like Sleeping Beauty took a detour through hell.”
Before long Sam, her former partner Mark Beckett, and Sheriff Eddie Marshall are following a trail of dead bodies from San Antonio to Houston, while the danger escalates closer to home.
If you enjoyed the excerpts, you can learn more about both books on my website, https://www.lesliemarshman.com/books, and find the links for all platforms there. Or check out Goode Over Evil on Amazon here.