Summary:
Love is in the Salt Sea Air--and So is Murder!
Ellery Page, aspiring screenwriter, reigning Scrabble champion, and occasionally clueless owner of the village's only mystery bookstore, the Crow’s Nest, is both flattered and bemused when he’s invited to the annual Marauder’s Masquerade, the best and biggest social event of the season in the quaint seaside village of Pirate’s Cove, Rhode Island. The event is hosted by the wealthy Marguerite Bloodworth-Ainsley—a descendant of the famed pirate Tom Blood.
Ellery doesn’t even know Mrs. Bloodworth-Ainsley—nor, it turns out—does Mrs. Bloodworth-Ainsley know him. But Marguerite’s son, Julian wants to know Ellery. Julian, handsome, rich and engaging, is a huge mystery buff. In fact, he’s bought quite a few books at the Crow’s Nest bookstore, but never quite worked up the nerve to ask Ellery out.
As his relationship with Police Chief Carson seems to be dead in the water, Ellery is grateful for a little flattering attention from the village’s most eligible bachelor, but any hopes of romance hit the shoals when Julian is accused of murdering his mother’s unlikable second husband during the Masquerade's annual ghost hunt in the family’s spooky cemetery.
Summary:
Mystery Stalks the Cobbled Streets of Pirate's Cove
Who or what is haunting elderly recluse Juliet Blackwell, what does it have to do with mysterious goings-on at the Salty Dog Pub--and why is any of it mystery bookshop owner Ellery Page's problem? According to sometimes boyfriend Police Chief Jack Carson, it's not Ellery's problem, and Ellery should stop asking awkward questions before it's too late.
Ellery couldn't agree more, but it's hard to say no when someone is as frightened as old Mrs. Blackwell. Mrs. Blackwell insists the ghost of long dead pirate Rufus Blackwell has come to avenge himself on the last member of his treacherous clan.
Before Ellery can say, "Yikes!" Mrs. Blackwell takes a tumble down the grand staircase of her spooky mansion, and it's up to Ellery to find who is trying to kill his eccentric customer.
This series just keeps getting better and better. The chemistry between Ellery and Jack is so fun, they may not be there yet but you just know it's coming. When two people have that kind of camaraderie, that push and pull, snark and cuddle, you know they won't be able to stay away for long and watching every minute of both sides of their interactions is, well just fun.
Who doesn't love a good masquerade ball, especially in the world of mystery? Ellery finds himself with an invitation to the party of the year in Pirate's Cove, the Marauder’s Masquerade and of course being Pirate's Cove it has to include the annual ghost hunt. Can anyone say "perfect setup for murder"?
As for the cozy mystery in Mystery at the Masquerade? You know I won't go into details because there will be no spoiling it from me but it does keep you on your toes and a delight to read.
Ellery finds himself in the middle of yet another mystery. I say mystery because he stumbles upon another possible high-end burglaries that Jack has been investigating as well as the murder in the ball. Could they be connected? Perhaps, perhaps not, but either way I have yet to decide if Ellery has the best or worst luck in the world😉😉. But I love the journey of discovering what kind of luck Ellery Page has, it's just delicious fun.
Scandal at the Salty Dog #4
Scandal at the Salty Dog. I think this is my favorite title in Josh Lanyon's Secrets and Scrabble series yet. Not only a great book title but Salty Dog is excellent for a bar name too. Fun! Yes, I know I use that word a lot when reviewing the entries in this series but it's the simplest and completely truthful word I can think of. . . FUN!
Normally I wouldn't spoil anything but technically it's in the blurb so me saying Ellery and Jack move forward with their relationship isn't actually a spoiler. Watching them take the next step is a delight, both emotionally and comedically. Don't worry, Salty Dog maintains the series' cozy status, the mens' chemistry may be light on the page but you just know the heat is there.
Ellery, who is still recovering from his adventures of Mystery at the Masquerade is trying to stay away from mayhem but it always has a way of finding him. Delivering books can be so dangerous😉😉. Ghosts, thieves, underground secret passages, wills, death . . . where does one start on the factors Ellery, Jack, Watson, Nora, and the Silver Sleuths face?
You'll just have to read this one for yourself to find out.
For those new to the series and are wondering about reading order. My suggestion is to start at the beginning. The mysteries begin and end in each book but the relationships between the main characters as well as other townsfolk evolve and will flow better if read in order.
RATING:
Author Bio:
Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."
Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Scandal at the Salty Dog #4
Mystery at the Masquerade #3
Chapter One
“Burglary?” Ellery asked doubtfully.
“It looks like it.” Jack selected a French fry, considered it, folded it into his mouth.
They were having lunch on the outside patio at the Gull’s Wing Café. The patio was surrounded by July’s summer visitors to Pirate’s Cove and, yes, gulls. A lot of seagulls swooping in for the bites of burger and fried fish tourists offered up, despite the forest-worth of signs requesting people NOT to feed the birds.
“In your town?” Ellery joked.
Jack’s grin was sardonic. “I know. I must be losing my touch.”
Once upon a time, and not so long ago, Ellery would have made some little jokey, flirty comment about Jack’s touch, but they had recently decided to, er, hold the position. The position being friends. Strictly friends. Without benefits.
Well, no, because there were definitely benefits to being friends. Ellery was glad they were friends. Sure, he would have liked to see where things might have gone with Jack, but he was a guy who could take no for an answer.
“Why do you think it took the owners so long to report the break-in?” Ellery asked, staring down a particularly large gull watching him from the white railing.
“Nobody noticed. The burglar climbed vines on a trellis and got in through an upstairs window. There isn’t any staff when the Bloodworths aren’t staying on the island. The caretaker is about a hundred years old.”
“Was the window unlocked?”
“Nope. They had to break in.”
A gull landed on the pebble top table and fastened its beady gaze on Ellery’s grinder. Jack snapped, “Hey.”
The gull jumped, offered an affronted squawk, and took flight, wings beating the sparkling air. A few of the other diners—including Ellery—jumped as well. Jack’s hey was pretty commanding, even when it was off-duty. Not that Buck Island’s police chief was ever really off-duty.
Ellery said, “Maybe you should cut down on the caffeine, Jack. Just sayin’.”
Jack muttered, “It takes all winter to train them not to beg, and the first week of summer, it’s like living through the movie The Birds.”
“Mm-hm.”
Ellery was mostly kidding, though Jack did seem a little wound-up lately.
Jack grimaced acknowledgment. “Maybe.”
“So what did the burglar get away with?”
“Several thousand dollars’ worth of antique sterling silver. Picture frames, trays, serving sets and, of course, a whole lot of silverware.”
“Small items easily disposed of?” Five months ago, Ellery had inherited the island’s only mystery bookshop, and he was now something of an armchair detective. Not that it took a detective, armchair or otherwise, to draw that conclusion.
“Correct.”
Ellery said bracingly, “You’ll get ’em. It’s an island. People talk. Someone knows who your bad guy or bad guys are.”
“Or bad girls.” Jack chose another French fry. Sunlight gleamed off his wedding band.
Ellery wasn’t sure when Jack had started wearing his ring again—but then, he couldn’t pinpoint when Jack had stopped wearing his ring. He had not worn it on their sole “date,” but it had reappeared in the weeks since.
Honestly? Better not to try to analyze what was happening there.
But it was confusing sometimes. Sometimes like now, when Jack’s gaze would catch his own and linger, linger, until Jack finally looked away. Or sometimes Ellery would glance up and find Jack studying him as though Ellery presented a puzzle Jack just couldn’t figure out.
His thoughts broke off as a woman sitting a couple of tables away from their own suddenly squealed, “NO! NO WAY!”
She plucked a small black envelope from her companion, tore it open, and pulled out the small card inside. A wisp of tissue paper drifted on the breeze and was snatched up by a kamikaze seagull.
The other woman laughed, watching her friend, and then winced when the first woman lightly bonked her on the head with the card.
“I don’t believe it!” the first woman exclaimed. “Why you?”
The second woman laughed again. People at neighboring tables also laughed.
“What the what?” Ellery glanced at Jack, who was watching the exchange with a resigned expression.
“It’s the same every year.”
“What’s the same?”
“The countdown for the last golden tickets to the chocolate factory.”
Ellery always found Jack’s familiarity with children’s literary classics kind of charming, but this time he didn’t get the reference.
“Huh?”
“The hullabaloo over who rates an invite to the Marauder’s Masquerade and who doesn’t.”
Hullabaloo. What a great word. Ellery made a mental note, said patiently, “I think you think that I know what you’re talking about.”
Jack looked surprised, started to speak, but was interrupted by the crackle of the radio mic on his shoulder.
“Chief? Chief?” cackled Officer Martin. “Are you there, Chief?”
Jack sighed, threw Ellery a look of apology, and rose from the table.
* * * * *
“The Marauder’s Masquerade is one of the biggest social events of the season. Certainly, the most prestigious.” Nora Sweeny, head of the now-defunct Pirate’s Cove Historical Society, and Ellery’s assistant at the Crow’s Nest, was talking in an animated fashion. Ostensibly to Ellery, but really to anyone in listening distance.
“That’s interesting,” Ellery said absently. “So it’s a ball? A masquerade ball?” He was mostly being polite, his real focus on shelving new stock from the morning’s shipment from HarperCollins.
“Yes. Exactly. A gala ball and ghost hunt.”
“Ghost hunt?” That caught Ellery’s attention. He wasn’t much for gala balls, but a ghost hunt? That sounded like fun.
“Yes. The ghost hunt is the main event.”
“Whose ghost is being hunted?”
Nora’s face screwed up in thought. She was a small, slight, seventy-something with the energy of a woman half her age and the inbred fortitude of seven generations of staunch New Englanders. “There’s a difference of opinion there. Some claim the ghost of Tom Blood walks among the gravestones and statues of his descendants. That seems rather unlikely, as Captain Blood went down with his crew when the Blood Red Rose was lost at sea.”
“If it’s not Captain Blood, then who is it?”
Nora loved mysteries. Especially the real-life historical ones. It was safe to assume she would have a theory.
“His bride. Maria Catalina Isabella de Fontana. A seventeen-year-old Spanish noblewoman Blood abducted and then wed—supposedly with her full and willing consent. Which, given her age, doesn’t mean much. When his ship went down, she threw herself into the sea.”
“That seems to happen a lot on this island,” Ellery commented. “I’m starting to wonder if there’s something in the water.”
Watson, Ellery’s six-month-old black spaniel-mix puppy, waddled over and curled up between Ellery’s feet with a groan reminiscent of an elderly man lowering himself into his easy chair. Ellery had nearly tripped over Watson twice that morning already, but Watson seemed to be suffering a mild case of separation anxiety.
“Has Ellery been invited to the Marauder’s Masquerade?” Mrs. Clarence demanded, dropping her pile of books onto the counter for Nora to ring up.
Ellery laughed at the idea.
“Not yet,” Nora said cheerfully, grabbing the first of Mrs. Clarence’s paperbacks and ringing it up. Mrs. Clarence was a fan of spy and espionage books. “I’m sure he will be.”
“Why would I be?” Ellery objected.
Mrs. Clarence said, “Everyone who’s anyone is invited. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Nora nodded. “Exactly right.”
“I repeat, why would I be invited?”
The ladies ignored him. Nora beamed at Mrs. Clarence. “Have you received your invite, dear?”
“Me?” Mrs. Clarence chuckled. She was somewhere in her late sixties, very tall, very blonde, sleek and surprisingly stylish for one of Pirate Cove’s matrons. “Oh, I don’t think I’m on the Bloodworths’ social radar.”
“You never know, Edna. Nora’s been invited to the Masquerade many times.” Mrs. Nelson’s voice floated from the Cozy Mystery section. Mrs. Nelson was another of Ellery’s regular customers, although maybe customer wasn’t the exact word, given that she returned as many books as she kept. She was a member of Tuesday night’s Silver Sleuths Book Club.
Thanks largely to Nora’s tireless efforts and, probably, her standing as one of Pirate Cove’s best-informed gossips, the Crow’s Nest was becoming one of the village’s unofficial community centers.
Nora looked regretful. “Not since I wrote that biography of Tom Blood for the Historical Society’s newsletter.”
“Ah.” Mrs. Clarence looked sympathetic. “I’ve always thought Marguerite lacked a sense of humor.”
The invisible Mrs. Nelson concurred.
Nora sighed. “It’s a shame. The spread they put on is magnificent. Nothing less than magnificent. But I refuse to whitewash history. Not for all the crab puffs in New England.”
Ellery faced out the final book, and wheeled the empty book cart back to the counter, followed by Watson. He reached the counter just as Mr. Starling, another of the Crow’s Nest regulars, joined Nora and Mrs. Clarence at the cash register. Ellery regretted ever bringing up the topic of the Marauder’s Masquerade.
“There’s some talk the Masquerade was nearly canceled this year,” Mr. Starling announced. “That’s why the invitations went out so late.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Clarence. “That would be the first time in nearly eighty years.”
“No, dear,” Mrs. Nelson called. “They didn’t hold the Masquerade during the war.”
“Where did you hear such a thing, Stanley?” Nora no doubt felt she had been scooped.
Mr. Starling’s news even brought Mrs. Nelson, broad and stalwart as a schooner, sailing out from behind the tall shelves. “Are you sure it’s true?”
Mr. Starling nodded solemnly. “I have it on the best authority.”
Nora’s gray eyes narrowed. “I suppose you mean Jonas Landry. How someone that loose-lipped has survived as a lawyer for fifty years boggles the mind.” She glanced at Ellery, read his expression correctly, and blushed.
“Have you been invited to the Masquerade, Mr. Starling?” Ellery threw over his shoulder, pushing the book cart into his office.
Mr. Starling made a noise that around the holidays would be classified as bah-humbug. “I have no interest in that kind of nonsense.”
The doorbell chimed, and a group of young women wearing sunglasses and toting shopping bags pushed inside. Tourists. Which meant they might actually sell some books that afternoon. Except… The day trippers took one look at the club meeting taking place at the sales desk, exchanged looks, and backed right out again.
Ellery swallowed his disappointment. It was hard to find the right balance. He didn’t want to offend his regulars, but the Crow’s Nest needed more business to survive. A lot more business.
Meanwhile…
“Yes, that would explain why the invitations are going out so late,” Mrs. Nelson was musing. “She handed over a single paperback to Nora. “I’ll take this one, Nora.”
“You’ve already purchased and returned that one twice,” Nora informed her.
“Have I?” Mrs. Nelson looked astonished. She studied the cartoony figures on the bright pastel cover. “Oh, I believe you’re right. It was the pastry chef, wasn’t it? Ellery, you’re really going to have to order more stock.”
“No way,” Ellery said. “Not until every single title of existing stock has been sold.”
The four of them gaped at him, and Ellery laughed. “Kidding. I just shelved a whole new shipment.”
Mrs. Nelson shook her head. She said to Nora, “He’s such an odd boy, isn’t he, dear?”
“But charming,” Mrs. Clarence put in.
This was too much for Mr. Starling. He grumbled something and headed for the door.
“Will we see you tonight, Stanley?” Nora called.
Mr. Starling waved his hand and growled something unintelligible. The bell on the door chimed cheerfully as he departed. The ladies at the counter smiled at each other.
“You must join our book club, dear,” Mrs. Nelson told Mrs. Clarence. “We’re reading Diana Killian’s Corpse Pose.”
“Still?” Ellery said. “Weren’t you reading that last month?”
Nora and Mrs. Nelson stared blankly at him, and Ellery put his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Whatever. So long as you’re enjoying yourselves.”
Nora smiled approvingly and then beamed in welcome as another customer made her way diffidently to the counter.
“What have we here?” Nora held up the book to her eyeline to gain a closer look. “Ah, Brandon Abbott’s last book. Very good. His books have been selling like hotcakes since…” Her gaze slid to Ellery. “Since the dreadful tragedy!” Nora finished cheerfully.
Ellery sighed and went to tear down the signage from last weekend’s sale.
Scandal at the Salty Dog #4
Ellery Page was dreaming of New York.
He was standing in line, though whether for theater tickets or Absolute Bagels was unclear, when the person behind him leaned in and kissed the back of his neck.
Ellery’s eyes popped open. He was not in line. He was not in New York. He was in bed at Captain’s Seat—and the life-sized portrait of Captain Horatio Page was gazing down at him with a dubious expression.
“Better get a move on. You’re going to be late.”
That opinion was not offered by Captain Horatio Page. That was Pirate Cove’s police chief and Ellery’s, well, boyfriend, Jack Carson.
Ellery turned his head to answer, and his face was immediately covered in wet, passionate kisses. That was also not Captain Horatio Page. Nor, sadly, Jack. That was Watson, Ellery’s sixish-month-old black spaniel-mix puppy and occasional (according to Jack) partner in crime.
Ellery started to laugh, kissed Watson back—though less passionately. “Good morning to you too.”
Jack bent to scoop up Watson at the same moment Ellery sat up, and their collision ended up in a kiss that went on a little longer than either anticipated—ending in smiles and reluctant parting of lips.
As Jack drew back, Ellery realized he was already dressed—that navy-blue uniform really suited his athletic six foot, one hundred and ninety-plus pounds and rugged good looks—right down to his police boots.
“Yikes. I really am late.” Ellery threw back the sheet and summer blanket.
“No. I’m early. I’ve got breakfast with the State Police Superintendent.”
Ellery’s smile was wry. “That’s right. And dinner with the town council.”
“I could meet you for dessert?”
“Silver Sleuths. I promised Nora I’d look in.” This was his first day—his first official day—back at work after suffering what Jack referred to as an extra-curricular concussion. Amateur sleuthing turned out to be a hazardous hobby. Not that Ellery considered his sleuthing a hobby. Or even something he planned on doing again.
Jack considered. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“You tell me.”
Jack grinned, leaned in to kiss him one final time, and murmured, “I will. In detail.”
Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."
Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Josh is married and they live in Southern California.
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EMAIL: josh.lanyon@sbcglobal.net
Mystery at the Masquerade #3
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Scandal at the Salty Dog #4
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