A Sneak Peek from Mayson-Dickson by Jocie McKade!

Every so often, I like to feature my pals on my blog. One of my dearest friends is Jocie McKade. I’ve known her for more than ten years and she’s been a very good friend to me. Here’s a snippet from her latest book, Mayson-Dickson!

M-D Logo

The South is on the rise, and the North is on the march in this humorous mystery where Alabama proud Emme Dickson meets Boston born Jackie Mayson. Two women, complete strangers, each summoned by a cryptic letter to Washington, D.C.
In the capital they will discover family secrets, big, weird, bat-crap crazy Mayson Dickson Cover-Web Versionsecrets, tick off numerous government agencies, just miss an assassins bullet and be given new lives sharing the same house, where the only thing preventing another war between the states is the mystery that has become their lives.
On the trail of secrets they discover that together they have a knack for solving murders. Mayson and Dickson Investigations is born over a pitcher of margaritas, one disgusting dead body on the beach, and along a line of division that gets a little twisted.
Investigating family secrets under the guise of being private investigators seems like a good idea until real dead bodies keep dropping on them.
Mayson and Dickson are going to have to rebel against the government agency that stuck them together and unite to discover the truth, right after this next murder investigation.

Available January 11th! 

Here’s an excerpt!!

@Copyright Jocie McKade, 2016

 

Jackie and Emme went completely still as the door downstairs opened.

“What was that you said about being afraid?” Jackie whispered, nudging Emme’s hands off her shoulders. “I can’t shoot them if you don’t let go.”

Together they sneaked down one step at a time.

“Who is it? Can you see them?” Emme tapped her shoulder.

“Shh.” Stopping on the landing where the stairs turned, they spotted the shadow of someone make their way across the kitchen. The light from the refrigerator lit up the corner.

“A hungry burglar?” Emme whispered.

Jackie snapped the safety off, held the gun in perfect form in front of her and took two more steps down, Emme at her elbow.

“Stop right there,” she yelled in the loudest, grittiest voice she could muster.

“Whoa, whoa,” a man came into view, hands in the air. “Shit,” he ducked, jumping behind the kitchen island. “Is that a gun?”

“It is, dirt bag, and she knows how to use it.” Emme’s southern drawl just didn’t have the same powerful effect.

“Will you shut up?” Jackie growled. “We are calling 911.” She nodded to Emme.

Shrugging, she patted her pockets. “It’s in the car,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to do that.” The man stood cautiously. “Don’t shoot. I’m not a burglar. I work for Moe Sheridan. He said to expect two guests here today and asked me to put groceries in the fridge for you.” His hands were still in the air as a smile crossed his face.

“Welcome, I’m Fender.” The man took off his baseball cap, smiling at them. He was about six foot two, slender and had the most amazing ocean blue eyes Jackie had ever seen. His brown hair was a little long and sun-streaked, the back grazing the collar of his t-shirt. “Please, put the gun down. I seriously don’t want to be shot.”

Emme pushed right past Jackie, heading down the stairs, smiling up at the man.

“Howdy, I’m Emme,” she hesitated, “Emme Mayson, and that’s Jackie Dickson.” Was she seriously introducing them to a potential burglar?

“I’m lowering the gun, but I’m not putting it away.” Jackie wanted to make sure the man knew she meant business.

“Gotcha.” He gave her a cautious smile.

“Your name is Fender, Fender what?” Emme asked, sliding her butt onto one of the barstools.

“Just Fender.”

Jackie didn’t like evasive men.

“Like the car part?” She walked behind the bar, gun still in her hand.

“Like the guitar.” He nodded toward the door. “I have more groceries in the Jeep. If you promise not to shoot me, I’ll bring them in.” Not waiting for an answer, he gave Jackie a wink and headed out the door.

“What the hell? Do you always think with your libido?” Jackie ripped into Emme. “’Howdy, partner,’ she mocked her southern drawl, “’we’re Emme and Jackie.’ You don’t know this guy from a tree.”

Emme slipped off the bar stool, walking slowly toward her. “What was your plan? Hold him at gunpoint all night? He knew us, he knew Moe Sheridan and that is not a name you pull out of a hat,” she pointed at the door. “Plus, he had a key.”

Jackie saw the paracord key chain still swinging in the door lock. Damn how she hated Emme right now.

 

About the Author:

The short form.
I live in the boonies of the Midwest USA surrounded by cornfields, Jocie McKade Piccattle and chickens.We have a small farm I lovingly call, Dust Bunny Farm.

I met my husband under the hood of a car.  I love cars and he was a mechanic, you might say we were a match made in RPM heaven. We’ve been married a really long time and have amazing kids that turned out well in spite of us and rarely claim us a parents.

I have an office mascot named Diesel the Wonder Dog, who will “tinkle” at the slightest provocation, but he keeps my feet really warm and helps pick contest winners with encouragement from the snack bag.

I also work as a news editor and scriptwriter. My articles have appeared in Elks Magazine, Family Tree Maker, Dog Fancy, RWA University, RWA Reports, Lake Erie Living, Fate Magazine, Chronicles of the Old West, Family Motor Coach, and others. I’ve also been a stringer for the local newspaper, a graphic designer, and I grow amazing tomatoes.

Find her here: http://www.jociemckade.com/bio.html

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