Showing results by narrator "Rachanee Lumayno" in All Categories

Doyle couldn’t stop thinking about that one little boy who’d been in the audience during the school’s Career Day event—the one who kept asking the troubling question. Strange, that the boy’s father seems to have disappeared—and even more strange that there was a connection betwixt the father and her own household. Nothing made much sense, though, and it seemed fairly clear that a terrible mistake had been made—or at least, she hoped it was a mistake. . .

Hart is a marshal, tasked with patrolling the magical wilds of Tanria. It's an unforgiving job, and he's got nothing but time to ponder his loneliness. Mercy never has a moment to herself. She's been single-handedly keeping Birdsall & Son Undertakers afloat in defiance of sullen jerks like Hart-ache Hart, the man with a knack for showing up right when her patience is thinnest. After yet another run-in with Merciless Mercy, Hart finds himself penning a letter addressed simply to "A Friend".

The much-anticipated homicide trial for the fentanyl murders was going forward, but Doyle couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d overlooked an important suspect, along the way. It may have been because Acton was being more secretive than his usual and was taking great pains to keep his wedded wife away from the trial and away from the evidence that would be presented.

The holidays had come and gone, and Doyle was chafing to get back home to London, so as to start being productive, again. Acton’s hereditary estate was grand indeed, but there was something a bit off-putting about the grandeur, and all that tiresome peacefulness.

Kaeden carries the blood of the ancient Eldaran race in his veins but turns away from his heritage after the death of his parents. Years later, he is called back to his homeland and invited to be a healer for the southern forces. With the help of an old mentor, the power inside of him starts to awaken. However, his life is turned upside down when a mighty warrior of the Nordic forces is captured. As Kaeden interacts with the enemy, he discovers there is a darkness behind the Nordic Wars, one that is manipulating the people of the north

By sinking a fleet of Imperial Warships, the Pirate Supreme and their resistance fighters have struck a massive blow against the Emperor. Now allies from across the empire are readying themselves, hoping against hope to bring about the end of the conquerors’ rule and the rebirth of the Sea. But trust and truth are hard to come by in this complex world of mermaids, spies, warriors, and aristocrats. Who will Genevieve—lavishly dressed but washed up, half-dead, on the Wariuta island shore—turn out to be?

The detectives called it “graveyard love”, and it happened more than you’d think; a spurned lover would rather murder his beloved than allow her to walk away. This case seemed no different than the usual—a murder-suicide by someone who couldn’t bear such a rejection. Doyle thought it was a bit odd, though, that the perpetrator worked for an armed transport company; you’d think he’d have been vetted. And it was an interesting coincidence that the female victim had a connection to the Public Accounts investigation—the one that was giving Chief Inspector Acton such fits.

This case was a strange one; Detective Sergeant Kathleen Doyle was investigating what appeared to be an "admonishment" murder—a lower-level player in a turf war had been murdered to serve as a warning by a rival gang.

Doyle was back at Scotland Yard after taking maternity leave, and the powers-that-be had decided they’d ease her way by assigning her to assist DS Isabella Munoz, which was a fate only slightly worse than death. Annoying, it was, that she had to answer to Munoz; not to mention that Munoz wasn’t given many high-quality homicide assignments in the first place.

A shocking death at St. Michael's Church pitches Detective Sergeant Kathleen Doyle into a confusing case - one where the motive for the crime is not at all clear and only becomes less so as the investigation unearths a massive criminal enterprise. Why was the murder of such a famous man necessary? And why does Doyle have the sense that the killer had to steel himself to commit the crime?

Detective Sergeant Kathleen Doyle has been called in to assist with a few unsound-mind murders lately - murders committed by a person who appears to be mentally unhinged. This type of murder is always a concern for Scotland Yard, since it raises the possibility that there’s a serial killer on the loose. And it doesn’t help matters that the weather is so very cold and miserable - small wonder that these killers have gone off the deep end.

This homicide case featured aristocrats as far as the eye could see, between the Russians and the Spaniards, and Acton, of course, who was supposedly investigating the others, but seemed a little too deferential for Doyle's taste. Why wasn't her husband moving in on the killer?

Detective Sergeant Kathleen Doyle was investigating a tip she’d received about doctors who were being assaulted at a London free clinic, but - strangely enough - none of the volunteers was willing to give her a statement. Instead, her only witness offered a fanciful tale about supernatural evildoers - which was nonsense, of course; it was clearly an attempt to shift the blame to the appropriate cultural bogeyman.

Chatty, down-to-earth Chelsea Roberts is cruising through life—successful career, great circle of friends, cute dog. Sure, her love life could use an intervention, but everything else is kind of perfect. That is until a new roommate blows in unexpectedly on New Year’s Day and turns everything upside down. Doctor-to-be Lucy Walker. Moody. Conversation killer. Jerkette. And the hottest woman in the universe. Chelsea is beside herself and plots to get rid of her, while Lucy tries to avoid any type of interaction, even if it means crawling out the window.

It seemed as though Doyle was slated to have a busman’s holiday, here in Dublin, and wasn’t it just her luck to stumble across a corpse in the St. Brigid’s School orchard. Stranger still, it looked to be a ritualistic revenge-murder, which—come to think of it—was exactly what they’d stumbled across the last time they’d visited Doyle’s home town. Who would have guessed that nasty revenge-murders were thick on the ground, here—save Acton, of course, since such a thing was usually his specialty. . .

Cally Hart is often lonely until one day when a mesmerizing purple spark dances through her room and music starts playing on its own. Her curiosity leads her to follow the spark, and along the way she is joined by her best friend, Jackson, and her dog, Max.

They were going to hold a gala at Trestles, but Acton wasn't one to want a passel of strangers tromping around his ancestral estate and so Doyle was rightfully suspicious; he must have some plan afoot—something to do with the Song case, which had gone cold even though there was a mighty fortune hanging in the balance. Stranger still, the charities were going to put-on that famous Sherlock Holmes story—the one with the horror-hound—and Doyle couldn't help but notice there seemed to be a lot of parallels to current events, what with unknown heirs, and a tightening web of unnatural goings-on...

This seemed like a cut-and-dried case of suicide to Detective Sergeant Kathleen Doyle; the decedent—a wealthy theatre patron—must have decided that life without her famous husband was too hard to bear, and so she’d ended it. Indeed, nothing about the tranquil scene would indicate foul play, save for the housekeeper’s insistence that something was amiss.

Detective Sergeant Kathleen Doyle had recovered from the injuries she’d sustained when the marina balcony collapsed, but it was becoming more and more clear that there’d been quite a bit going on, whilst she’d been unconscious for a few days. For starters, there’d been some sort of donnybrook at the hospital, and as a result Acton had been placed on leave—not to mention that one of her nurses had disappeared.

It was very surprising that Mrs. Song had died unexpectedly—although she’d been through the wringer, poor thing, what with her terrible luck in picking husbands. Officer Gabriel suspected there might be a murder afoot, but they hadn’t the whisper of a suspect—it was one of those locked-room mysteries.