Love in the Time of Murder by D. E. Haggerty Blog Tour and Giveaway

Book Title: Love in the Time of Murder (The Gray-Haired Knitting Detectives) 

Author: D.E. Haggerty 

Genre: Cozy Mystery 

Release Date: October 5, 2015 

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

In Love in the Time of Murder, the Gray-Haired Knitting Detectives face their toughest case yet. Delilah, or Dee as she wishes everyone would just call her already, is the granddaughter of one of the knitting detectives and her life is in a bit of a shambles. She finally manages to pry herself away from her husband’s clutches, move out on her own, and start her own business. But then her estranged husband is murdered and she’s the number one suspect. The Gray-Haired Knitting Detectives aren’t about to let one of their own get sent to the slammer and jump at the chance to search for the true killer. As if Dee doesn’t have enough problems, the knitting detectives decide that Delilah being a widow is the perfect opportunity to find her a new man and decide to put their matchmaking skills to use. Will Dee end up in prison for a murder she didn’t commit or will she be taking another walk down the aisle?

I cross my arms and sigh. “What’s Brock done now?”

The detective’s sharp eyes focus on me. “You mean, Brock, your husband?” I nod. “Why do you assume this has anything to do with Brock?”

I snort. “Maybe because I got a protection order against him last week and filed for divorce yesterday.” I add the word ‘duh’ to the sentence in my mind because really, who is this dunce? Of course this has to do with Brock.

“When was the last time you saw Brock Clark?”

“Sunday, a week and a half ago when he came to my grandmother’s house and tried to forcefully get me to return to Oklahoma City with him.”

“Oklahoma City?”

I stop myself from rolling my eyes at the detective. Don’t these guys have to take tests to ensure they’re not total idiots? “Yeah, that’s where we live. Well, where Brock lives. I live here now.”

The detective stares at me for a long time. I’m really not in the mood for any baloney that Brock is throwing at me. I throw up my hands. “What am I doing here? What’s going on?”

The detective leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Mr. Clark’s dead.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “Dead? How? What?” I can’t breathe. I start to hyperventilate. Somewhere in the fog of my mind I hear Noel curse. A strong hand is on the back of my neck pushing my head between my knees. “There you go, darling. Just take deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out.”

Slowly, the fog clears and I start to breathe normally again. I push against the hand on my head and the pressure immediately disappears. I sit back up and turn to Noel. “Brock’s dead?” He nods. “You couldn’t have told me? You brought me here instead?” My voice sounds like a screech. I’m beyond peeved. What the heck? I though Noel was my friend.

Noel blushes slightly and moves away from me. The other man, who still hasn’t introduced himself, speaks. “Detective Blackburn is not allowed to be involved in this investigation. He’s here as a courtesy to you.”

“Investigation?” I stare at the man. “What do you mean investigation?”

“Brock Clark was murdered.”

“Murdered?” My eyes start to blink out of control.

“Shot in the head at his place of residence.”

“Shot?” I sound like a parrot, but I don’t care. The words this man is speaking don’t make any sense. Brock murdered. “Who would kill Brock?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” He stares at me and then I finally get it. They think I did it. They think I killed Brock. I shoot up from my chair. It clanks to the floor behind me.

“What the…? You think I killed Brock! Are you out of your mind?” I start to hyperventilate again and Noel reaches for me, but I bat him away. “Why the hell would I kill Brock?”

“Because he abused you and was stalking you.” The man’s eyes are hard, evaluating me.

“You don’t kill someone for that! I have a restraining order. I’m divorcing him!”

The detective is undeterred. “But what about the fact that he was cheating on you? Maybe you wanted revenge?”

This stops me cold. Cheating? I didn’t know Brock cheated on me. I mean, I suspected, of course, I’m not an idiot. I just I never cared enough to find out the details. I shrug. “Good,” I say. “If he was f****** someone else, then he wouldn’t have the need to force himself on me.”

Noel growls, but I ignore him. I throw a hand up at him to stop as he again starts to approach me. “What else you got?” I don’t even know who this woman is right now. I don’t swear. I don’t confront people. I guess when someone accuses you of killing your rat bastard husband, all bets are off.

The detective shrugs. “He’s worth a lot of money. If he’s dead, you’re a widow and the money’s all yours.”

I laugh; only it sounds brittle. “I don’t want his money. Talk to my attorney. I asked her yesterday to file for a no-fault divorce and not to ask for any settlement.”

The detective stares at me. “Maybe Brock was already dead by then.”

I shake my head at him. “I don’t want his freaking money,” I push the words out from my clamped jaw.

But the man isn’t done with me yet. He pulls a Kindle from between the files on the table. “What about this?”

I scrunch my nose at him. Seriously, the police department needs to start testing these detectives’ IQs. “Is that my Kindle?” I ask even though I can tell from the cover it is. There aren’t too many people with Hello Kitty covers on their Kindles. “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

He shakes the Kindle. “Why are you obsessed with true-crime novels, Mrs. Clark?”

I snort. “I also read shifter romance novels, but I’m pretty sure I’m not a werewolf.” And with that, I’m done. “Am I under arrest?”

I was born and raised in Wisconsin, but think I’m a European (and have the EU passport to prove it!). After spending my senior year of high school in Germany, I developed a bad case of wanderlust that is yet to be cured. My flying Dutch husband and I have lived in Ohio, Virginia, the Netherlands, Germany and now Istanbul. We still haven’t decided if we want to settle down somewhere – let alone where. I’m leaning towards somewhere I can learn to surf even though the hubby thinks that’s a less than sound way to decide where to live. Although I’ve been a military policewoman, a commercial lawyer, and a B&B owner, I think with writing I may have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. That’s assuming I ever grow up, of course. Between playing tennis, running much slower than I would like, trying to adopt every stray dog within a 5-mile radius, traveling to exotic new locales, singing off tune, drinking entirely too many adult beverages, addictively watching new movies and reading books like they are going out of style, I write articles for a local expat magazine and various websites, review other indie authors’ books, write a blog about whatever comes to mind and am working on my seventh book.

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