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I’ve just published book one in Love and Murder Series. The Art of Love and Murder lives up to its title. Lacy Dahl, prompted by her daughter, sets out to research some art left by her birth parents who died in an airplane crash when she was an infant. She goes to Flagstaff, Arizona armed with the sketches and visits a step-aunt, an art gallery and a museum. Those visits lead to a collector of the artist’s work and an old friend of her birth mother.  Everyone appears to be holding back some truth. And from her first night in town when she is followed down a dark alley, danger lurks, but she doesn’t know why. When a Paul Bunyan of a man who happens to be the sheriff, comes to her aid, the mystery gets even murkier. His ties to a murder and the art may or may not hinder their relationship. Lacy finds herself discovering secrets and lies that threaten her life.

Over the next few weeks, I have two blog tours scheduled with prizes you can earn in various ways. If you'll check out my news page and my contest page, you can get the details: http://brendawhiteside.com/index.html

Excerpt for The Art of Love and Murder:

Momentarily struck dumb by his eye color, she stared back. Why hadn’t she noticed until now? Although not as light as hers or her father’s, the professor’s eyes were a startling green shade.

His hand nudged her arm. “Lacy?”

She jumped. “Oh, yes.” She slipped the tissue from the half-carved wolf. Another glance at his eyes and goose bumps riddled her arms.

He lifted the wood close to his face, using both hands as if handling a delicate hummingbird. His thumb traced the neck of the creature to the juncture of where it emerged from the wood. When he brought the piece to his nose, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Lacy wanted to turn away from the oddly erotic gesture.

He swallowed, opened his eyes and set the wolf back on the tissue. His attention shifted to the photograph of the chest. He touched the photo, a smile on his lips. “Where is the chest?”

The chest. Like he knew it, had seen it before. “I’m having it sent. You’ve seen it before?”

He didn’t move, stared out the window as if deep in thought. “I’d like to show you something, Lacy.”

“All right.” She waited, watching his profile.

He turned and stared into her face a moment. “You’re so very lovely. A creation full of life and passion, surpassing any art form.”

His hypnotic voice floated on the classical strains drifting from the living room. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say. She’d been lifted upon a pedestal of admiration. With any other man, she might consider his words a means to a sexual end. The professor’s intentions, however, were crystal. He admired her like a work of art.