Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Monday, March 25, 2013

In the Bones by Renee Miller

Published February 17th 2013


Welcome to Albertsville: Population 397…and falling.

When Ryan Cassidy claims a house left to him by his estranged grandparents, he becomes tangled in the mystery of a town crushed by a deadly secret spanning generations.

The town's power core, which includes the reeve, his council members, and the local police, smother opposition with deceit, brutality and fear. They will stop at nothing to keep the horror they've committed buried.

A severe winter storm leaves Albertsville snowbound—a trap only the dead can hope to flee—and Ryan becomes a liability that must be silenced at any cost.

The answers to the town’s mystery and its salvation are hidden...In the Bones.

Abouth the author:
Renee Miller is a freelance writer living in Tweed, Ontario. Small town life is busy, but she’s managed to sandwich a book or two between the demands of housewifery and hiding from the neighbors.

Bitten by the writing bug at the tender age of nine or ten (she can't recall those years as clearly anymore) Renee has forever had a story building in her head. It wasn't until 2009 that she considered turning her passion into a serious endeavor. She has several completed novels she prefers to call "almost published" and many more awaiting their chance to be polished enough for public consumption.

Last year she co-founded On Fiction Writing, a website for writers, created by writers. IN THE BONES is her first published novel.


The figure in the blue shit-box rifled around the passenger seat. Carroll shifted his feet. Mr. Cassidy should be eager to meet the elite of his new town, not pissing around. Good thing he had Fred bring the computers back yesterday. Carroll was almost blindsided by Melvin’s careful attention to details that would make his life difficult. Not only did the bastard include a list of his property but he also wrote out a list of files on the computer and laptop that he didn’t know Melvin had. Carroll had informed residents more than a year ago that Albertsville couldn’t get Internet, being too far out of the way for such things. How did Melvin of all people figure out the lie?
Carroll found the evidence, though, and it hadn’t been in any computer files. A plain white folder stuffed into the back of the grandfather clock, which was not included on Melvin’s list of property. Fucking Farley had bent the damn mechanism inside the clock while getting it out, but Carroll didn’t stress over that. This kid wouldn’t guess the clock had worked fine before Farley got his grubby hands on it. The files on the computer held nothing of significance. It annoyed Carroll that he’d wasted his time going through them.
The door opened and a tall, lanky figure emerged from the car. Carroll’s chest tightened and he pressed his lips to stop the profanity that leapt to the tip of his tongue. A ghost from his younger years stretched and smiled at him. Hate curled up and made itself comfortable in Carroll’s belly. Except for the tousled mane of sandy brown hair, Ryan Cassidy was the spitting image of his father and grandfather. The same sparkle that Carroll so hated in the elder Cassidys reflected in Ryan’s blue gaze, mocking him.
“Hello,” Ryan strode toward them.
His easy gait, so like Chad’s, sent Carroll’s stomach churning. The only man he’d ever envied had been Ryan’s father. Everything came to Chad naturally, everyone liked him, and he didn’t lift so much as a finger for their approval. Carroll had to work his ass off to get even a fraction of the respect they’d simply given to Chad. Christ, he never understood it. He had money, looks, and a first rate education. What did Chad have? Nothing. That damn shit-eating grin and those fucking eyes. He’d enjoyed every minute of Chad Cassidy’s death.

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