Welcome to Pine Cove.

The Mayor is a dog, B&B guests are fugitives, and the pancakes
are burnt. 

Recipe For Murder

A Pine Cove Mystery Book 2

by Marla A. White

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Mel O’Rourke traded her LAPD badge for the quiet life,
running a bed-and-breakfast in tiny, quirky Pine Cove.

But when Jackson Thibodeaux, the charming café owner who broke her heart,
stumbles back into town, her tranquil second act is toast. While attending a
culinary academy in New Orleans, Jackson found the body of a classmate. The
police rule it a suicide, but Mel’s instincts—and Jackson’s near miss with a
bullet—scream murder.
Between a cooking school full of shady suspects, a reformed cat burglar for a
sidekick, and a complicated love triangle involving the deputy sheriff, Mel has
her hands full.

Perfect for fans of the sweetness of Jenn McKinlay and the snark of Elle
Cosimano’s Finlay Donovan.

 

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The aroma of maple bacon and coffee
wafted into her office as Poppy interrupted her pondering with a plate full of
breakfast and a mug to replace the one that had already gone cold on her desk.
“Thanks,” she murmured, still studying the computer screen.

“Don’t get used to the service,
mate. Liam talked me into checking on you after I told him about Jackson’s
sudden appearance.”

“And the food?” Mel cocked an
eyebrow at her friend, who she suspected was just as worried about her mental
state as her brother after their chat last night. The lithe, vertically
challenged woman might resemble a brunette pixie, but that brain of hers worked
with devious speed.

“Figured you’d holed yourself up in
here without getting a proper brekkie. Besides, I have a small favor to ask,
but not while you’re sporting that glower on your phiz. What’s got you frowning
so hard?” She didn’t wait for an answer but came around the desk to have a look
for herself. “You’re reading about the cooking school?”

“Can you believe these gullible
idiots, and yes, I’m including Jackson among them, pay for the honor of working
for free in Isabelle Fontaine’s restaurant?” Taking a piece of bacon, Mel
absently munched on it until the flavor of maple, meat, and unbridled joy
exploded in her mouth. Poppy wasn’t as diversely talented in the kitchen as
Jackson, but she was the master of the breakfast dishes she made. Mel moaned in
appreciation before asking, “All right, out with it. What’s this favor?”

“Well,” her friend gave her a sly
grin. Never a good sign. Whatever was about to follow would almost certainly be
illegal. But when she said, “I need your advice on how to win over Doctor
Hart.” Mel’s jaw actually dropped open.

“You’ve never struck me as the kind
of person who worries about other people’s opinions.” She eyed the other woman
suspiciously. “Why do you care what Doc thinks?”

Poppy wandered around the office,
tidying a crooked photo and pulling out one of Mel’s hospitality course
textbooks. The only purpose for all of her movement, as far as Mel could tell,
was to avoid letting her see her face. “Because she’s important to you and it
seems life would be much easier for you if the two of us got along.”

“Really?” She sat back in the
creaky desk chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to figure out
the ex-thief’s actual motivation.

“Okay, fine.” The woman whirled on
her in a huff. “I’ve never had anyone not like me. Ever. Pathetic loser Agnes
Mary Nobel? Sure. But since I transformed myself into the fabulous Poppy
Phillips? Even people I’ve stolen from end up liking me.”

“Kind of judgey of poor Aggie,
aren’t you?” She’d only recently discovered Poppy’s true identity when Gregg
investigated her as a murder suspect. Abandoned by her single mother, she’d
grown up in Cleveland in various foster homes that ran the gambit from kind to
truly horrific. Given that, she understood her friend’s choice to reinvent
herself, fake English accent and all. She claimed she identified as British,
whatever that meant. If Mel had to put money on it, she’d bet it was because
the accent meant she could get away with murder. And she had to admit, it had
come in handy more than once to soothe the ruffled feathers of a guest. But Doc
Hart, who’d been suspicious of her from the start, remained an aloof skeptic.

“You could try dropping the
accent.”

For the first time, she saw a flash
of vulnerability in the bold ex-thief’s eyes.

“What would I even sound like
without it?” Poppy murmured, then switched to a flat, nasal tone that
presumably she thought people from Cleveland sounded like. “My name is Agnes
from Cuyahoga County. I like cheese. Blch.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re confusing
Cleveland with Milwaukee, but I see your point.”

 

Framed For Murder

A Pine Cove Mystery Book 1

After a life-changing injury, Mel O’Rourke trades in her
badge for bed sheets, running a B & B in the quirky mountain town of Pine
Cove. Her peaceful life is interrupted when an old frenemy, the notorious and
charismatic cat burglar, Poppy Phillips, shows up on her doorstep, claiming
she’s been framed for murder. While she’s broken plenty of laws, Mel knows
she’d never kill anyone. Good thing she’s a better detective than she is a cook
as she sets out to prove Poppy’s innocence.

The situation gets complicated, however, when the ruggedly handsome Deputy
Sheriff Gregg Marks flirts with Mel, bringing him dangerously close to the
criminal she’s hiding. And just when her friendship with café owner Jackson
Thibodeaux blossoms into something more, he’s offered the opportunity of a
lifetime in New Orleans. Should she encourage him to go, or ask him to stay?
Who knew romance could be just as hard to solve as murder?

 

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Mel
gaped slack-jawed at her brother, whose palm covered his face. “Why did you
kidnap Grandma?”

“I
did not—ugh!” He answered from behind his hand before shaking off his
frustration and moving to the back seat of the truck to grab their bags. “Mom
forced me to bring her. That’s what the delay was all about. She’s been driving
her crazy, and then this morning she lit the kitchen on fire.”

“She
what?!”

“I
wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly, something about the toaster and a
curtain. Anyway, Mom convinced her she should come help you out and halfway up
the mountain she wove this kidnapping story.”

“Help
me? How, by greeting guests with her charming personality?” She loved her
grandmother, but her salutation and scathing condemnation of the inn with just
one glance were pretty mild for the old woman. When she really got on a tear,
the best thing was to go to a movie until she wore herself out.

“Beats
me but pro tip, do not let her in the kitchen.” Balancing the bags in one hand,
Liam enveloped her with his free arm. “At least, not until we make sure the
insurance covers curtain fires.”

“No
need to worry, I just hired someone today who is great in the kitchen.”

He
looked at her askance. “Great as in better than you or someone who is actually
a good cook?”

“Shut
up.” She laughed in response to the insult. “The guests this morning raved
about the food. For however long she stays, I think she’ll be a plus in the
breakfast department, anyway.”

“Where
did you find this culinary genius? Did you put out an ad already?” He held the
door open for Mel and they entered the lobby.

“We
didn’t, she found me.” She looked around. “Where’s Grandma?”

The
echoes of laughter led the siblings into the Great Room where their grandmother
sat in front of the fireplace chatting away with Poppy. They turned toward Mel
and Liam as they entered.

“Mel,
your mother is a hoot,” she gushed.

She
narrowed her eyes at the alleged ex-thief, who had to know perfectly well the
woman in front of her was too old to be her mother. Grandma O, however, took
the compliment to heart and patted Poppy’s hand, gracing her with one of her
rare beaming smiles.

To
Mel’s surprise, Liam skidded to a dead halt. She turned back to see why and
received the icy blast of the unmistakable storm in his eyes. She’d seen the
same dark expression in the mirror when she was furious. What did he have to be
so angry about? Before she could ask, he dropped their bags and launched into
full hissy fit mode.

“You!”
he bellowed at Poppy.

The
brunette seemed sincerely surprised at his response. Swiveling her head to see
who else was in the room and finding no one, she met his gaze and pointed to
herself with an exaggerated, “Who, me?” expression.

Her
brother spun, targeting his rage at her. “Don’t tell me this is who you hired?”

“You’re
only being a grump because you haven’t tried her bacon,” she joked, hoping to
deflate the situation. Years of trying to nail her for any number of jobs she’d
pulled off had frustrated Mel, but she had to admit she always liked her style.
Despite her suspicions when she found Poppy in the lobby this morning, so far
she’d been nothing but charming and kind of fun, so what had she done to piss
off easy-going Liam in the two minutes since they met?

Her
brother crossed his arms, stubbornly jutting out his square jaw. “There’s no
way that woman is working here. She nearly killed you once, I’m not giving her
a second chance.”

“You
two have met?” The information surprised her, so she let the macho b.s. slide
for now. She didn’t need anyone to protect her, but his anger rolled off him so
calling him on his chauvinism skittered close to throwing gasoline on a fire.

“We
had to watch her on the news sound bites, taking her bows for saving your life,
while you lay in that hospital bed, broken and in agony.” Mel had never seen
his eyes blaze with such fury before. She’d been so focused on her own
suffering she’d never thought about what her family had gone through. Liam
clearly had been carrying steamer-trunk sized baggage. “Nobody bothered to
mention she’s the one who put you in danger in the first place. Or that you’re
crippled for life, thanks to her.”

“Crippled?”
Poppy’s brows furrowed, her eyes darkening.

“Easy,
drama queen,” Mel snarled, “nobody’s crippled.”

“We
used to go rock climbing and now you can’t even mount a set of stairs without
getting dizzy.” His exasperation exploded as he paced to the far end of the
Great Room to stare out the floor-to-ceiling glass door at the patio and brook
beyond. What really hurt was he sounded more bummed out for himself losing a
climbing partner than concerned about her.

“Is
that true?” Poppy sprang up.

“I’m
working on it.” Embarrassed by the whole conversation, she busied herself with
tidying the morning newspapers the guests had left strewn around the sitting
area.

“She
nearly killed you, she’s not working here,” Liam repeated without turning away
from the view outside.

Grandma
O’Rourke rose to her feet with more nobility than agility, stood between her
two grandchildren, and pronounced, “I like her, and I say she stays,” before
tottering off to the kitchen in a self-professed search for the infamous bacon.

Of
course, she liked Poppy, she just paid her a huge compliment. Never mind if she
was guilty of what Liam accused her of doing or not. After putting the last
section of the newspaper back in place, Mel noticed the below the fold story on
the front page and tightened her fist until she almost tore the paper in two.

Scientist Killed in Daring Heist

Marla White is an award-winning novelist who
prefers killing people who annoy her on paper rather than in real life. Her
first full-length mystery novel, “Cause for Elimination,” placed in several
contests including Killer Nashville, The RONE Awards, The Reader’s Favorite,
and finishing second in the Orange County Romance Writers for Romantic
Suspense. Originally from Oklahoma, she lived in a lot of other states before
settling down in Los Angeles to work in the television industry.  She currently
teaches at UCLA Extension and gives seminars about the art of script coverage.
When she’s not working on the next book, she’s out in the garden, hiking,
cheering on the LA Kings, or discovering new craft cocktails.  

 

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Date Published: 08-08-2025

Publisher: Farcountry Press

Reviews for The Life and Times of Jim Bridger

Bill Markley has established an enviable reputation as a western biographer.
His excellent new biography of Jim Bridger will only augment his status.
Crisply written and carefully researched this biography of the greatest of the
mountain men will both captivate and inform readers for years to
come. –Paul Hutton, author of The Undiscovered Country

Bill Markley has done it again with THE LIFE AND TIMES OF JIM BRIDGER. The
mythic mountain man comes to life in Markley’s biography and by the end you
will be ready to go West and discover for yourself the West of Jim
Bridger. –Stuart Rosebrook, editor-at-large, TRUE WEST magazine

Well researched and well told, Markley gives us a fresh look at one of the
giants of the American West. I believe he has captured the man and his
essence. —Bob Boze Bell, executive editor True West magazine

Bill Markley’s The Life and Times of Jim Bridger vividly captures the
adventures of a legendary mountain man whose courage, ingenuity, and deep
connection to the American West shaped a nation’s frontier. From fur
trapping to guiding emigrants, Bridger’s story is a testament to
resilience and cultural fluency, brought to life with meticulous research and
engaging prose.  — Jon Nelson, Board Director for the Museum of the
Fur Trade, Chadron, Nebraska

When the tall, genial Virginian Jim Bridger ventured West as a
“green” teenager in the early years of the fur trade, no one
predicted that he would become known as the legendary “old man of the
mountains.”   Packing his life with enough adventure for at least ten
mountain men, Bridger led beaver-trapping brigades, hunted buffalo, fought
hostile Blackfeet, married a Shoshone woman, mapped trackless wilderness,
guided the U.S. Army during Red Cloud’s War, and more.  Although
illiterate, he spoke several European—and Indian—languages. 
Did Bridger really leave the grizzly-mauled Hugh Glass to die alone? 
Markley delves deep into his subject’s extraordinary life. Wonderfully
illustrated with period maps and artwork, this book is for anyone who loves
true tales of the raucous fur trading era of the early nineteenth century.
Bridger once said, “Sir, the grace of God won’t carry a man
through these prairies!  It takes powder and ball.”  And
how.  –Nancy Plain, four-time Spur Award winner, past
president of Western Writers of America.   

Final Thoughts

During my two-year research of Jim Bridger, my respect for him

has grown. He accepted all people, no matter who they were. Only when

they turned on him would he treat them as enemies. He tried to stay out of

fights, but if one was unavoidable, he was in the forefront.

It’s a shame—and our loss—that he didn’t learn to read
and write. He was

intelligent, creating accurate maps from memory. He learned English, French,

Spanish, a variety of Indian languages, and was proficient in sign language.

After people read Shakespeare to him, he would quote passages from memory.

As to the Hugh Glass story, I believe Bridger was not the teenager who

deserted Glass. Historians have pointed to Bridger because of an 1839 article

that gave the young man’s last name as “Bridges,” based on
old riverboat pilot

Joseph LaBarge’s recollection, and tradition had it on the Missouri that
it was

Bridger. That’s it. When Alfred Jacob Miller sat around a mountaineer
fire

and jotted down the Hugh Glass story during the 1837 rendezvous, the first

name of the person Glass confronted was Bill. If Bridger had been the young

man who deserted Glass, I believe other mountaineers would have ribbed him

about it.

As to Bridger selling Fort Bridger to the Mormons, I don’t believe he
sold

it. He was an honest man, and to his dying day, he never said he sold it,
continuing to

attempt to collect his rental payment from the federal government.

Bridger’s descriptions of the Yellowstone geothermal region to
expedition

leaders and scientists led to its eventual exploration in 1871 by one of those
scientists,

Ferdinand Hayden. The following year, Congress designated it the

world’s first national park.

Jim Bridger was loved by many people, from children to generals. He was

well liked by many tribes. Most of his adversaries respected him. He enjoyed

nothing better than to be out in nature, preferring to sleep under the stars
than

in a tent. It would have been great fun to sit at a campfire and listen
to him tell

of his exploits and tall tales. He was a man in love with the West.

Toward the end of his life, Jim Bridger said, “I wish I was back there
among

the mountains again—you can see so much farther in that
country.” 
 

About the Author

 Bill Markley, member of Western Writers of America and multiple winner of the
Will Rogers Medallion award, has written eleven books including biographies
and histories of Old West characters and events. He writes for True West and
Wild West magazines and is a staff writer for Roundup magazine.

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Date Published: June 19, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press 

When Lord Xev and his lover, Ra, leave their home in search of a woman to bond
with them, they know exactly where to go. Risen Outpost is the most lawless
place in the galaxy, and Pale Moon Auction House offers the finest sex slaves
on the market. What the Zaronians don’t expect is to find one of the legendary
humans for sale to the highest bidder.

Kirin Ellison doesn’t know what’s happened to her. The shock of discovering
aliens exist is bad enough, but realizing they plan to sell her as a sex slave
is far worse. Kirin watches the other women preening and displaying their
attributes, begging to belong to someone, with growing alarm. She wants her
freedom. At least she thinks she does — until one touch from Xev and Ra
enslaves her in a far more binding way than a simple exchange of a currency
could ever manage. She longs to feel everything the strange beings have to
offer, but unless Xev is willing to make a sacrifice of his own, she dare not
let him capture her heart.

Music reverberated through Kirin Ellison’s Mazda as she drove down the lonely
two lane country road. Humming along to the radio, she glanced up at the sky.
The black velvet above was dotted with stars. In the city, she never really
had the chance to see the night sky — the view here was breathtaking.

No one was expecting her back in Chicago until tomorrow. She didn’t need to
rush. Her camera lay on the passenger seat beside her. Pulling over onto the
gravel shoulder, she parked next to a fenced pasture.

The warning bell dinged as she carefully pulled out her beloved equipment.
Wedding and graduation photography paid the bills, but she couldn’t escape her
true calling — she felt drawn to beautiful panoramic landscapes.

Kirin looked up at the silky night sky and began to visualize the shots she
would take. The rural beauty was exactly what she wanted. These prints would
sell fast in the city.

Chuckling to herself, she shook off the feeling that she was being watched.
“I’ve been in the city way too long,” she muttered as she made sure the tripod
was stable.

A sudden flash to her left made her straighten and turn. She gasped as three
bluish-green lights hovered in the air.

“Oh my God!” Kirin’s hands shook as she began frantically snapping pictures.
Kirin focused intensely on the lights. She wished her camera had video
capability. She expected the hovering lights to fly away, but they didn’t.
These prints were definitely going to be a moneymaker.

The lights suddenly catapulted forward and to her horror, they now hovered
directly over her car. Her courage held her for only three more shots before
her shaking hands managed to free the camera from the tripod. Snatching up her
equipment, she rushed back to the car, but froze when a bright light
illuminated the area around her. Her eyes widened as the car levitated off the
ground. The pulsating yellow light was actually pulling the Mazda skyward.

Kirin bit her lip and stumbled backwards. She had no interest in finding out
where her car was going. Her foot slipped on the dew-damp grass and she
tumbled backward into the darkness. Pain radiated through her head and her
teeth clicked as her jaws snapped together. She blinked up and the darkness
vanished. She lay bathed in bright yellow light. Something trickled down her
neck and she realized she was bleeding, but that was the least of her worries
right now.

Blinking rapidly, Kirin tried to clear her vision, but the lights went in and
out of focus. She felt her body lifting. “No,” she moaned.

Unconsciousness claimed her.

When Kirin next opened her eyes, she blinked up at a bright light. She tried
to swallow but something was down her throat. Soft plastic cradled her nose
and mouth. She looked down her nose at the strange mask. The effort gave her
an intense headache and she tried to groan, but the tube down her throat
didn’t allow the sound to come out. She lay in a warm cocoon, perfectly
cradled in softness. To her horror, she realized she was naked. She tried to
move, but she couldn’t. The paralysis was surreal. Her vision was blurry and
she blinked rapidly, but it didn’t seem to help. She felt as if she were
floating.

Vaguely, she wondered if she’d been drugged.

A dark shadow blocked the light to the left and she tried to focus on what —
or who — it was. Her eyes widened and she tried to scream. Being immobile
added a sharp bite to her terror. The creature was tall and blue. It had
tentacles jutting out of its rather large head, and it didn’t look happy.
Coming closer, it made some sort of gibberish noise and ran its hand down her
arm, then her hip and leg. She shuddered. Something moved in a blur to her
left and she felt a quick stab of pain before her eyes fluttered closed and
darkness dragged her back into oblivion.

* * *

“This trip has been long overdue, my friend.. The burden of politics wearies
me,” Lord Xev muttered. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

The male between his legs took his cock into his mouth and bobbed his head
passionately up and down on Xev’s shaft. Xev watched Ra’s devotion through his
long lashes. Long, soft blond hair brushed Xev’s thighs. Eyes half closed, he
stretched his arms across the back of the divan.

The crowd bustling about the tavern and the buzz of voices only made Ra’s
fellatio more erotic. His companion made a loud popping noise as he pulled his
mouth away from Xev’s erection. Ra’s big blue eyes gazed up at him adoringly.
Xev could tell he wanted to say something.

“You may speak,” he graciously offered.

“You are right, my lord. I have felt the burden of hiding my affection for
you. I lust for you, my lord. Every time I am in the room with you, my cock
aches for your touch.”

Xev smiled down at his lover. He cared deeply for Ra. Their friendship, and
Ra’s servitude, had grown into a comfortable pattern, but something was
missing. They both agreed on that point. “I understand, my friend. The Order
would never accept our bond. Here we are free, but you know I can never leave
the Order, even to delight in the debauchery of the fringes. This is just a
short trip. We will return.”

The glimmer of hope died in Ra’s beautiful eyes and he quickly lowered his
head and kissed Xev’s balls. When Ra glanced up, tears shimmered in his eyes.
“I know your place, my lord, even as I know mine, but one can dream.”

Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her
greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring
a little more romance into the world. She’s been writing since her teens for
her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with
readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her
home and life with love. If she’s not working or chasing children, you can
find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance. 

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