When a group of friends—old bone detectives who are young at heart—find and rescue a kidnapped child, it is just the start of a mystery that puts them all in danger.
They chase clues from their small Scottish village to York, England, to the Isle of Mull as danger chases them. They are determined to find their favorite waitress’ missing uncle for her. Twice they believe they have succeeded in finding him, and twice they discover they have failed. But none of them could have imagined how their desperate search for her missing uncle would end.
From having pets stolen out of their yards, to recovering a missing hearse and body for the funeral home, to being shoved off the city wall at York, to a tumble into a pirate hole, their quest for truth takes them along avenues of danger and adventure that they never expected. And when they find the missing person—their dilemma is just beginning.
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I’ve survived mauling by an African lion.
I’ve survived a deadly snake bite.
I’ve emerged victorious from childhood sexual abuse.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
The most life-impacting decision I’ve ever made is the transition from atheist to Christian. My two favorite Bible verses are “in everything give thanks,” and “all things work together to good for those who love the Lord.”
I thought the worst day in my life was the day I lost my job; my mother died and I couldn’t attend her funeral because my husband was sent home from the hospital to die; our sheepdog died, and my truck caught on fire in downtown San Antonio. Then I learned what a really bad day is. My son USMC Major Luke Parker died in a plane crash on November 17, 2013. It doesn’t get worse than that.
I’m now married to Alan McKean, author of historic time travel books. We live in Dunoon, Scotland, and I do what I’ve wanted to do since childhood—write books in my favorite genre, mystery-romance-suspense. But about the lion bite.
Along with an innate pride for Texas, I was born with a love for animals. When I was five, my first pet was a grasshopper that I carried around on a silver spoon. When I accidentally dropped spoon and grasshopper down the radiator in an upstairs apartment building, I sobbed. My mother sobbed. The spoon had been a wedding gift.
History repeated itself when my five-year-old son’s pet grasshopper was consumed by a small spider. Luke sobbed. I sobbed. That experience inspired me to write “I’m the Grasshopper.” But back to the lion bite.
Because I was an unpopular child, I kept snakes as pets. Riding a bicycle with a snake around my neck made boys notice me. (They thought I was crazy.) I must have been crazy. I got bit by a cottonmouth. But, about the lion.
Ebenezer arrived in the back of a station wagon to join our family’s roadside zoo. The 200-pound pet fit right in with our family, until he reached 400 pounds and became a lion.
When I quit riding bicycles with snakes in my quixotic attempt to impress boys, I remained immature enough to use a gimmick like an African lion. I invited a fellow college student home to see Eb. Not realizing that Eb had transformed from pet to lion, I walked up to him. Eb grabbed me by the stomach, threw me to the ground, and mauled me. My terrified college friend jerked me out of the cage – which made Eb bite even harder. “I hope I did that right,” he panted. “I’ve never had to rescue anyone from a lion before!” I never saw Ed again.