{"id":229,"date":"2010-11-12T10:21:18","date_gmt":"2010-11-12T16:21:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/?page_id=229"},"modified":"2012-10-02T15:02:26","modified_gmt":"2012-10-02T22:02:26","slug":"books-crying-blood","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/?page_id=229","title":{"rendered":"Books: Crying Blood"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Crying<\/span><\/p>\n

An Alafair Tucker Mystery<\/strong>
\nAvailable from Poisoned Pen Press<\/a>
\nHardcover ISBN 978-1-59058-831-4, $24.95
\nTrade Paperback, 978-1-59058-832-1, $14.95
\nLarge Type Tpbk, 978-1-59058-802-4, $22.95<\/p>\n

Order the Kindle edition here<\/a>.
\nOrder the NOOKbook edition here<\/a>.
\nOrder from Poisoned Pen Press<\/a><\/p>\n

Download from\u00a0Apple\u00a0<\/strong>here<\/a>.
\nFind your nearest independent bookstore here<\/a>.
\nOrder the audio book from Blackstone Audio here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

In the autumn of 1915<\/strong>, Shaw Tucker, his brother James, and their sons, go on a hunting trip to the derelict farm his stepfather had bought years before.<\/p>\n

Instead of a quail, Shaw\u2019s dog, Buttercup, retrieves an old boot with the bones of a foot inside. Buttercup then leads the men to a shallow grave and a skeleton with a bullet hole in the skull.<\/p>\n

That night, Shaw awakens to see a pair of moccasin-clad legs strolling by his tent flap. He chases the intruder, who has disappeared so completely that Shaw wonders if he imagined it. Had he also imagined the ghostly voice that called his name?<\/p>\n

After he returns home, Shaw can\u2019t shake the memory of the disembodied legs and the ghostly voice. His concern is justified when he realizes that someone – or something – has followed him home.<\/p>\n

His dread turns to relief when he captures a young Creek Indian boy who says he is Crying Blood. The boy had followed Shaw, hoping to find a white haired man who killed his brother.<\/p>\n

Shaw ties the boy up in the barn, but during the few minutes he is left alone, someone thrusts a spear through Crying Blood\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n

Who murdered a boy right under Shaw\u2019s nose? The law is on the killer\u2019s trail, but Shaw Tucker has a hunch about the identity of the white-haired man who called his name.
\nOnly Shaw\u2019s wife, Alafair, might be able to forestall his dangerous plan. So when the opportunity arises, Shaw sends her on a wild goose chase. As soon as she is out of the way, he sets out to confront the killer.<\/p>\n

Sometimes a man has to take matters into his own hands.<\/p>\n

Read an Excerpt from CRYING BLOOD<\/strong><\/p>\n

Oklahoma – 1915<\/strong><\/p>\n

Six men<\/strong> spread in a line across the field, wary and still, shotguns at the ready. The sun had barely sunk below the tree line, but the few moments of the peach and pink of evening had faded, leaving the sky clear, cloudless, and the color of new cream. In the woods behind him, Shaw Tucker could hear the discordant gabble of birds gathering in the trees, settling down for night and making their plans for the following day. Grackles, sounded like. It was late in the season and any birds who were going to fly south for the winter were gone.<\/p>\n

Shaw flexed the fingers of his free hand, trying to ease the stiffness out of them. It was getting cold. He had to resist the temptation to stamp his feet. A sigh of a breeze briefly ruffled the tall grass, making a shushing sound that faded quickly back into stillness. Nothing moved.<\/p>\n

They were in there, he knew it. It was a test of nerves, now.<\/p>\n

To his left, Shaw could just see his brother James and James\u2019 two teenaged sons out of the corner of his eye, arrayed across the clearing at twenty yard intervals. He turned his head to the right to look at his own two sons. Gee Dub and Charlie were standing tensely, watching the brushy field, unmoving as stone, only the fog of their breath in the sharp November air betraying the fact that they were alive.<\/p>\n

It had taken the six of them a quarter of an hour to ease themselves out of the woods and into the clearing far enough to be able to get a clean shot, but Shaw figured that any further would be pushing their luck. Two black, tan, and white hounds were sitting close to his feet, one on either side, obedient, but quivering with excitement. He could tell by their riveted attention that they had marked their quarry.<\/p>\n

A speckled bird dog was working the field, back and forth in a zig-zag pattern, his nose to the ground. As the dog moved further into the field, only his back and feathery tail protruded above the tall, dried grasses.
\nThe dog slowed and took a tentative step or two before his head popped into sight and his tail dropped, creating a straight line from nose to tail-tip as he froze on point.<\/p>\n

Shaw emitted a tiny whistle between his teeth and his dogs shot forward into the grass like a couple of bullets, one to the left and one to the right, approaching the pointer in a wide circle. As they neared, James signaled the pointer with a piercing whistle of his own and the dog leaped forward. Faced with a three-sided assault and no escape route, the entire covey of quail flushed.<\/p>\n

Shaw was peripherally aware that his companions raised their shotguns at the same time he did, aiming into the air above the dogs\u2019 trajectory. He barely had time to seat the stock on his shoulder before the half-dozen quail took to the air in a panic. He chose his prey and sighted it along the barrel of his gun as it rose above the treetops. A shot rang out to his right and one of the birds nosedived, but Shaw didn\u2019t allow himself to be distracted. He pulled the trigger and his target spun in the air, flapped a couple of times, then managed a crazy, zig-zag landing at the far edge of the field.<\/p>\n

Shaw barely heard the blasts of the guns on either side of him. He had more than likely only winged his quarry. He huffed, torn between feeling disappointed that he hadn\u2019t killed the creature outright and pleased that he had hit it at all.<\/p>\n

The dogs were still crashing around through the tall grass, each heading for dead or wounded birds to retrieve. Shaw had never seen his brother\u2019s bird dog hunt before. He was impressed. He had only had the opportunity to see Happy at family gatherings and hadn\u2019t thought much of the pup\u2019s brainpower. He was aptly named, though, as goofy and good-natured as a creature could be.<\/p>\n

Shaw had owned his two hounds for years. He had trained them himself and he had to admit that Crook and Buttercup were two of the best hunters he had ever run. They were \u2018coon hounds, natural stalkers, and unusually smart. They seemed to know automatically what kind of game their master was after and exactly which skills were required of them on each hunt. They could tree raccoons, trail foxes, keep a bear at bay, flush birds, and were good retrievers on land or water. Their only defect was that they were both terrible watchdogs since they were friends with everyone they met. But Shaw couldn\u2019t fault them for it. They loved children, and for a man with ten of his own that was a good trait for a dog to have.<\/p>\n

James and the boys all descended on him, laughing and excited and talking at once.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t hit nothing, Uncle Shaw, but I think Daddy did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, Jerry, I think mine got away, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGee Dub sure got his, Daddy. Blowed his head clean off!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw two more go down, Dad. One looked to be still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shaw put his arm around his oldest son\u2019s shoulders. \u201cThat was mine, Gee Dub. I just nicked him, looked like. When the dog fetches him back, I\u2019ll have to wring his neck, I reckon.\u201d<\/p>\n

As he said the words, Crook emerged from the grass with a headless quail in his mouth. Shaw praised the dog before he took the bird by the feet and held it up with a laugh. \u201cWell, I\u2019ll be switched! I guess Gee did blow his head clean off! Go on, Crook, bring me another one.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crook disappeared and Shaw handed the bird to Gee Dub, who put it in the satchel slung over his shoulder.
\nJames nodded toward a wave of moving grass. \u201cHere comes Buttercup yonder with another bird.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hound trotted out of the field with something in her mouth, her head high and her tail awag, obviously pleased with herself, and sat down at Shaw\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n

Charlie leaned over to inspect her treasure. \u201cWhat do you got, girl? This ain\u2019t no bird. Why, it\u2019s an old boot!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Buttercup.\u201d Shaw sounded more amused than unhappy about it. \u201cI believe I\u2019ve got plenty of footwear.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shaw\u2019s nephew Jimmy moved up to take a better look. \u201cThat old thing has sure seen better days! Looks like it\u2019s been lying out in the woods for a spell. There\u2019s something inside it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably a dead critter or some such,\u201d Gee Dub said. \u201cI bet that\u2019s what interested her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Amid the sounds of disgust at this suggestion, Charlie turned the boot upside down and gave it a shake. Dirt and leaf litter fell out onto the ground with a plop. The boy stirred it around with his toe before peering back down the boot top. \u201cThere\u2019s something still in here. Looks like a couple of sticks.\u201d He shook it again, but his only reward was a rattling noise.<\/p>\n

Shaw was suddenly struck by foreboding. He extended his hand. \u201cLet me have that, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

A glimpse of two jagged, grey protrusions confirmed his fear.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it, Uncle Shaw?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing, Jerry. Some furry little thing built a nest in an old boot, is all. You kids check the field for more downed birds. Charlie, take Crook with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The boys scattered but James didn\u2019t move. \u201cShaw?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s bones, James. Seems we got us a boot complete with its own leg and foot.\u201d<\/p>\n

An expression of dread passed over James\u2019 face. \u201cOld?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, right old, no worry about that. Stick with the boys a spell and I\u2019ll see what Buttercup has dug up.\u201d Shaw knelt down in front of the dog and held the boot under her nose. \u201cWhere\u2019d you get this, gal? Show me!
\n\u201d
\nHe gave a short warbling whistle and Buttercup took off through the grass, heading toward the curve of woods bordering the clearing to the north with Shaw hot on her heels.<\/p>\n

***
\nThe dog put her head down and sniffed around in a little circle right at the edge of the woods. Because of the grass, Shaw was practically on top of her before he could see what had momentarily distracted her. Another small piece of grey bone with a finger-thick vine wrapped around it was lying on top of a flat rock that was half embedded in the dirt.<\/p>\n

Shaw\u2019s first thought was that this shard of bone had fallen out of the boot when Buttercup was carrying it. He reached for it, but jerked his hand back when the vine moved.<\/p>\n

A small, greenish brown snake lifted its head and regarded him. Shaw backed up a step. What on earth was a snake doing out at this time of year? The earlier part of the day had been mild and obviously the snake was soaking up whatever warmth remained in the rock. But still… It was November and the evening was frosty! That critter should have been curled up in a hole with his kinfolks for the past month.<\/p>\n

Yet there it was. A snake wrapped around a bone, giving him the eye. Shaw fought off a flood of superstitious dread<\/p>\n

Buttercup reappeared from the woods and emitted a wuff. Are you coming? Shaw looked at her, then back at the rock. The bone was still there but the snake had gone.<\/p>\n

Shaw blinked. Had he actually seen what he thought he saw, or had it been a trick of the shadows? He shook himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Buttercup. Let\u2019s see what you\u2019ve found.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

An Alafair Tucker Mystery Available from Poisoned Pen Press Hardcover ISBN 978-1-59058-831-4, $24.95 Trade Paperback, 978-1-59058-832-1, $14.95 Large Type Tpbk, 978-1-59058-802-4, $22.95 Order the Kindle edition here. Order the NOOKbook edition here. Order from Poisoned Pen Press Download from\u00a0Apple\u00a0here. Find your nearest independent bookstore here. Order the audio book from Blackstone Audio here. In the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":535,"menu_order":5,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-229","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/P2H58s-3H","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/229","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=229"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/229\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":625,"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/229\/revisions\/625"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/535"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.doniscasey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=229"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}