Broken Heart Attack, the second book in the Braxton Campus Mysteries, will be available for only .99 as a Kindle purchase from 4/22 thru 1/26. You can purchase via Amazon here. You can also find the book translated in other languages and as an audiobook at links below. Praise for this edition from reviewers:
★★★★★ – “Upbeat and entertaining. Cudney’s writing style is warm, vibrant and edgy.”
★★★★★ – “Fast-paced and full of twists you won’t see coming.”
★★★★★ – “A well recommended murder mystery.”
Book Overview:
When an extra ticket becomes available to attend the dress rehearsal of Braxton’s King Lear production, Kellan tags along with Nana D and her buddies, sisters-in-law Eustacia and Gwendolyn Paddington, to show support for the rest of the Paddington family.
After one of them appears to have a heart attack in the middle of the second act, Nana D raises her suspicions and asks Kellan to investigate who killed her friend. Amidst family members suddenly in debt and a secret rendezvous between an unlikely pair, Kellan learns the Paddingtons might not be as clean-cut as everyone thinks. But did one of them commit murder for an inheritance?
Kellan is back in his second adventure since returning home to Pennsylvania. With his personal life in upheaval and his new boss, Myriam, making life difficult, will he be able to find a killer or will he get caught up in his own version of stage fright?
Key Info:
- Released on November 25th, 2018
- 2nd book in series
- Considered a investigative mystery with a twist / complexity to the story-line and characters
- Available Languages
- English (see below)
- Portuguese
- Spanish
- Available English Formats on Amazon
- Paperback
- Hardcover
- Large Print Paperback
- Kindle
- Audiobook
- Available Via Bookstores
- Check out the past blog tour here.
Fun Stuff About the Book:
Even though the primary mystery is fully contained within each book, there are numerous sub-plots and side stories about Kellan, life events with his friends and family, and details about Braxton and Wharton County, Pennsylvania, that would be best read in order. The second book, where fans and readers delved into Nana D’s Septuagenarian Club and recovered from that massive cliffhanger in the first book, was Broken Heart Attack: Death at the Theater. As of today, the book has over 300 reviews between all the major book sites and is averaging 4.6 out of 5 stars. It is available in multiple formats, including hardcover, paperback, large print, Kindle, and audiobook options.
I’ve chosen an excerpt from the end of the first chapter, when Kellan meets with all the members of the infamous Septuagenarian Club. This section highlights the humor I’ve hopefully built into the tales, from the senior citizen crew recalling what Kellan was like as a child to commenting on his current dating woes. It also reveals a little bit about the Paddingtons, one of the more prominent families in the series. Let’s read a little from BROKEN HEART ATTACK…
Excerpt from Broken Heart Attack:
When I pulled up at Danby Landing, my six-year-old daughter raced out of the house and jumped in my arms. I swung Emma from side to side and kissed her cheeks. She’d slept at Nana D’s the previous night, so they could have a fancy slumber party—no boys invited apparently.
“Daddy! We made s’mores last night. I got to ride the tractor with Nana D’s farmhand this morning. He has a daughter my age. Can I play with her? When are we going to the zoo?” Emma asked, unable to control her glee. Her crimped dark-brown hair was pulled into pigtails, and she wore an adorable pair of denim overalls Nana D had sewed the previous week. Emma inherited her mother’s olive-tinted skin which made me unable to forget my wife’s enchanting beauty.
“That sounds like fun, baby girl!” I sat her on the swinging bench next to me to spend a few minutes together before dealing with the old whiners. We played a few rounds of Cat-in-the-Cradle and discussed the sleepover before Emma decided to drag me inside the house. While she poured herself a cup of juice and turned on a video, I trudged into the den to be terrorized.
There were four others in the room besides my nana, all of whom I’d met in the past. It was a meeting of the founding members of Braxton’s Septuagenarian Club: Nana D, Eustacia Paddington, Gwendolyn Paddington, Millard Paddington, and Lindsey Endicott. They’d formed the group years ago upon turning seventy to celebrate a revival of their youth. They’d initiated at least forty new members and ran amok trying to reclaim any remaining independence from their family who’d locked them in nursing homes or taken away their driver’s licenses. Nana D was the ringleader and caused the most disturbances around town. ‘Not my monkey, not my circus,‘ I often reminded myself when anyone begged me to stop her from whatever trouble she’d brewed up.
“If it ain’t the little bedwetter,” taunted Lindsey Endicott, a seventy-six-year-old retired attorney whom Nana D and Eustacia Paddington were both dating. His bright pink polo was two sizes too small and revealed way too much of his rotund beer belly. As soon as he’d sold his law practice, he’d opened a microbrewery in one of the well-frequented downtown shopping areas. The only problem was that he was his best customer and had never learned when or how to cut himself off.
“Aw, he hasn’t done that in years, right, Kellan?” said Eustacia. Her electric-blue track suit fit properly, but she obviously wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. I shook my head in disbelief at the multitude of oddly shaped age spots and diverted my sight anywhere but in her direction. She continued, “I remember when he had that awful problem. Poor Seraphina had to change the sheets whenever that boy stayed over.”
Could this get any more embarrassing? I’d been three years old and had a nervous bladder. I’d gained full control of the situation for close to three decades at this point. “Cut it out, you two. I’ll toss your little blue pills down the garbage disposal, Mr. Endicott. How’d you like that?” His eyes opened wide sending two giant, bushy eyebrows in every direction like ants in search of a morsel of food. “And you, Ms. Paddington… I’ll slice several inches off your cane and see how you like hobbling around.”
Millard Paddington, Eustacia’s older brother—by less than a year, Irish twins as she often called them—blushed a shade of red I rarely saw anymore. He was the only truly gentle human being in the bunch. “Leave the boy alone, you rascals, or I’ll swap Gwennie’s high-blood pressure pills with Eustacia’s gastrointestinal medication. Neither of you will know what hit you. Don’t we have important business to attend to?” Millard was the tallest of the bunch, rail thin, and had lost his hair years ago. He’d grown a handlebar moustache and had almost perfected the curls, but the children at the library held a penchant for yanking on it when he’d read to them. Calling it spotty would be a generous description yet he seemed to enjoy all the attention from the boisterous toddlers.
Gwendolyn, or Gwennie as her fellow club members called her, had been married to Eustacia’s and Millard’s brother, Charles, who’d passed away the prior year. She was exceedingly prim and proper and had a habit of being hasty and judgmental. I’d luckily rarely been on the receiving end of it, but Nana D had to put the woman in her place many times in the past. Gwendolyn remained silent with her upturned nose looking as snooty as possible—old schoolmarm after tasting a rancid, sour grapefruit.
“As much as I’d love to keep getting roasted by the old timers’ club, Mr. Paddington is correct. How can I help with Nana D’s campaign?” I asked relaxing into the only remaining chair in the room which left me practically sitting inside the roaring fireplace. “What have you prepared so far?”
Silence. No one said a word, just looked back and forth at each other waiting for someone else to chime in. We continued like this for another five minutes until I finally got them to produce a list of the top ten changes they wanted to see happen in Wharton County. I was pleasantly surprised to discover at least six of them were pragmatic ideas others could get behind. The remaining four were not—free massages in the park by ‘the hot little number at the Willow Trees Retirement Complex’ and a new dating app called ‘Let’s Get Lucky’ for the over-seventy crowd seemed a tad unnecessary and inflammatory to me. Then again, I might want those things in forty years, too. Who was I to judge or put the kibosh on someone’s late-in-life carnal desires? I won’t even mention the other two ideas.
While I assigned everyone tasks, Gwendolyn excused herself to use the powder room. “I’m borrowing your cane, Eustacia. I’m not feeling too steady on my feet the last few days.”
As Gwendolyn walked down the hall, Nana D teased, “I’m sorry I don’t have a chamber pot, you old bat. Here we call it a restroom! No one says powder room anymore.” Was Gwendolyn avoiding her responsibilities or was the absence a coincidence? As if she were privy to the conversation going on in my head, Nana D turned and said, “She always does that. When she returns, Gwennie will rush out saying she has to deal with an emergency. Just like Millard whenever I asked him to sleep over. That’s the reason things didn’t work out between us. He was selfish when it came to intimate things like—”
“No, Nana D. Please stop. I can’t listen to it,” I said once my insides cringed and turned to Jell-O. “We’ve talked about this many times. I don’t want to hear anything about your love life. And in return, I won’t bother you with anything about mine.”
“Does that mean you have a love life to speak of? Because last time we chatted, your ability to flirt and any awkward sex appeal you still clung to had disappeared the way of the pony express,” she replied while kissing her finger, touching her derriere, and making a sizzle sound. Her tiny noise erupted into a room full of irritable senior citizens hooting at my expense.
“I’m only here for a little while, Nana D. You need to use your time wisely, or I might not help you win the mayoral race.” I filled Gwendolyn’s box with campaign promotional flyers and walked out the front door to load them in Lindsey’s car. He’d carted the gang over to Nana D’s given he was the best driver in the whole group. When I got to the porch, I heard Gwendolyn on her phone as she shuffled to the far corner.
Gwendolyn said, “Well, if you can’t make it, then I’ll find someone else to take your ticket. It’s not the first time you’ve disappointed me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve sponsored this production of King Lear. The whole family is supposed to be there in support of our generous donations. Maybe you’re not cut out to be a member of this clan anymore.”
I watched the sourpuss expression on her face deepen until it was her turn to speak again. When she did, even I got the chills from her icy tone and unexpected threat.
“You remember that when I’m no longer around. Family is supposed to look out for one another as they get older. Not throw them to the curb like trash. Maybe I need to make another trip to the lawyer to look over my will again.” A few seconds later Gwendolyn shouted into the phone, “You’ve always been useless. I’ve got a good mind to take you down right now. We’ll see how you like it when things don’t turn out as you expected.” Then she hung up and struggled with the clasp on her vintage 50’s-style handbag. She finally got it open, flung her phone inside, and agitatedly clutched it to her side.
I’d already stepped onto the porch and couldn’t sneak back inside without her noticing me. As she turned around, Gwendolyn sneered. “You eavesdropping on my call? What kind of manners did your nana teach you, Kellan? I’ve got a good mind to—”
“I’m sorry. I was bringing this box to the car and didn’t know you were out here,” I said cautiously holding my free hand up and balancing the box against my chest with the other. I felt bad for interrupting her privacy but was shocked at what she’d said on the phone. “Is everything okay?”
“No, my awful family keeps taking my money but refuses to do anything nice for me. I’m about to learn how dreadful one of them truly is. What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked in a raspy voice.
Other than preparing for classes and trying to contact Francesca, who’d left me no number to reach her when she absconded with her mother to New York, nothing was planned. “Spending time with my daughter and helping Nana D prepare for her upcoming debate with Councilman Stanton.”
“Well, find yourself a babysitter. You’re coming with me to Braxton’s dress rehearsal for King Lear. One of my useless kinsfolks canceled and I have an extra ticket.” Gwendolyn wiped a speck of dust from her eye. A woman like her never cried about family. She just complained about them to anyone who’d listen. Or even those who didn’t.
“I’m sure they love you. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” I said, sympathetic for her plight. Nana D had mentioned several times how Gwendolyn’s kids had either abandoned her or gotten into trouble ever since their father had passed away. Her husband, Charles, had been the family’s center of gravity while he’d been alive, but now they all treated her like a burden or an ATM machine.
“That’s certainly a load of petrified cow dung! They’d be happier if I kicked the bucket on the drive home tonight. I’m concerned one of them might be trying to kill me. Something ain’t right with how I feel lately. Going to the doctor on Monday to find out.” She steadied herself against the doorjamb and huffed loudly. “Stupid ungrateful beasts. If I find out one of them has been gaslighting me, I’ll have them arrested. No two thoughts about it. We might be family, but they’re all a bunch of vultures.”
Gwendolyn went back inside to corral the rest of the Septuagenarian Club. I rubbed my temples, loaded the box into Lindsey’s car, and returned to the house. After everyone left, Nana D pulled me into the kitchen away from Emma’s curious ears. “Did I overhear Gwennie tell you someone in her family is trying to murder her?” Nana D asked with a peculiar twitch in her left cheek.
“Yes, I assumed she was upset about one of them not going to the show. I guess I’ll be going with you now,” I sighed as if the weight of the world rested on my shoulders. I loved my nana, but her friends were harder to handle than standing upside down catching a greasy pig in a mud slide.
“No, brilliant one. That’s where you’re wrong. Something is definitely whackadoodle in that family. She’s been acting strange for weeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of those Paddingtons was trying to kill Gwennie. You’re gonna help her figure out which crazy one it is before they succeed, right?”
*** Aren’t you psyched to find out what happens? ***
About Me
For those new to me or my reviews… here’s the scoop: I’m Jay, an contemporary fiction, family drama, and mystery author who lives in NYC. My stand-alone novel, Father Figure, can be purchased on Amazon as electronic copies or physical copies. My co-written metaphysical drama about past lives, Weathering Old Souls, is a partnership with the amazing Didi Oviatt. My family drama series, Perceptions of Glass, has two books: (1) Watching Glass Shatter and (2) Hiding Cracked Glass. My clever book series, Braxton Campus Mysteries, will fit those who love cozy mysteries and crime investigations but with a twist. There are eight books: Academic Curveball, Broken Heart Attack, Flower Power Trip, Mistaken Identity Crisis, Haunted House Ghost, Frozen Stiff Drink, Legally Blind Luck, and Sleigh Bell Tower. I read, write, and blog A LOT on this site where you can also find all my social media profiles to get the details on the who/what/when/where and my pictures. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Thanks for stopping by. Note: All written content is my original creation and copyrighted to me, but the graphics and images were linked from other sites and belong to them. Many thanks to their original creators.