February 17th, 2025
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THE WAGTAIL MURDER CLUB
THE WAGTAIL MURDER CLUB

New Books This Week

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Love, Secrets, and Second Chances—February’s Must-Read Books Await!

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A Stray Pup, A Second Chance, and a Killer on the Loose�Wagtail�s About to Get Wild!


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A Hacker, an Undercover Mission, and a Love Worth Fighting For.


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A Duke by any other name would smell as� dastardly?
Roguish?
Rakish?
� delightful?


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Shaken, Stirred, and Unexpectedly in Love�Can They Mix Business with Pleasure?


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As London's high society watches their every move, can these two brilliant minds find the formula for true love?


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Chocolate, Second Chances, and a Love Too Sweet to Let Go.


Excerpt of What's In a Name? by Terry Odell

Purchase


Author Self-Published
January 2011
On Sale: December 31, 2010
Featuring: Kelli Carpenter; Blake Windsor
324 pages
ISBN: 0012516740
EAN: 2940012516749
Kindle: B004HO5JR4
e-Book (reprint)
Add to Wish List

Romance Suspense, Thriller

Also by Terry Odell:

Remaking Morgan, October 2019
Paperback / e-Book
Personal Assignment, April 2019
e-Book
Falcon's Prey, June 2018
e-Book
Identity Crisis, October 2017
e-Book
In Dire Straits, October 2016
e-Book
In Deep Trouble, May 2016
e-Book
In Hot Water, February 2016
e-Book
Seeing Red, December 2014
e-Book
Windswept Danger, November 2014
e-Book
Deadly Puzzles, May 2014
e-Book
What's In A Name?, December 2013
Audio / e-Book
Dangerous Connections, October 2013
Trade Size / e-Book
Deadly Bones, November 2012
e-Book
Nowhere to Hide, June 2012
e-Book
Where Danger Hides, June 2012
e-Book
Rooted in Danger, April 2012
Hardcover / e-Book
Saving Scott, April 2012
e-Book
Deadly Secrets, December 2011
e-Book
Finding Fire, October 2011
e-Book
Hidden Fire, September 2011
e-Book
Finding Sarah, September 2011
e-Book (reprint)
Danger In Deer Ridge, September 2011
Paperback / e-Book
Where Danger Hides, May 2011
Hardcover / e-Book
What's In a Name?, January 2011
e-Book (reprint)
When Danger Calls, October 2010
e-Book (reprint)

Excerpt of What's In a Name? by Terry Odell

The thud from the front porch was definitely a knock.

Kelli Carpenter jumped, clutching the plastic shower curtain to keep from slipping. "Just a minute," she called as she reached across the cascading spray to twist off the taps. So much for the hot, steamy shower she'd been dreaming about while she lay, freezing her butt off in a stinking mud puddle, waiting for the perfect shot. She squirmed back into her grimy jeans.

From the road, she heard the distinctive roar of Harley engines. The knock repeated, growing more insistent.

Take it easy," she muttered. Without bothering to towel off, she slipped her sweatshirt over her head, working her damp arms into muddy sleeves while she headed for the door, her mind racing through the possibilities of who would be there. Only park rangers ever came by. But they wouldn't pound unless something was wrong. And if they did, they'd call her name. The familiar fear gnawed at her belly. Had someone found her?

Shit. She'd forgotten her contacts and although she doubted any of the rangers would notice—or care—she hadn't survived as Kelli Carpenter this long by neglecting the details. She hurried back to the bathroom and inserted the lenses, turning her pale gray eyes into a nondescript brown and grabbed her oversize tortoiseshell–framed glasses. "Coming!" She hurried through the living room and peered through the window.

Her stomach flipped at the sight of a total stranger on her porch. Hardly anybody knew about this field station, tucked away in the mountains of Washington state. Behind him, she caught a glimpse of a gray pickup truck, the one that had pissed her off by hugging the center line when she'd driven home.

Calm down. He's lost and wants directions. Tell him what he needs and he'll be gone.

"Yes?" she called through the door, trying to remember if she'd locked it.

"I'm looking for Kelli Carpenter," a deep male voice said.

Kelli. Not Casey. Okay. She inched the door open. Swallowed. Twice. A man waited on her porch, wearing jeans and a windbreaker over a black turtleneck, holding an olive–green duffel bag. He stood at least six–two, with black hair that hung almost to his shoulders, and a five o'clock shadow at least two days old.

"I'm Kelli." She forced herself to meet his eyes. Dark chocolate brown, they grabbed and wouldn't let go. He stared, a little longer than necessary and she crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly all too aware her bra lay on the bathroom floor.

She took a step backward into the dimmer light of the living room. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing." His startled expression dissolved into neutrality. "I...um...I suppose I'd expected a man." He took half a step forward.

Avoiding his eyes, she took a deep breath and managed a quick smile. "Can I help you with something?"

He dropped his duffel and extended a hand. "Sorry. I'm Blake Windsor. I'm here to repair a dormitory cabin. If you'll point me to my room, I can put my stuff away and take a look before it gets dark."

She ignored the offer of a handshake and suppressed a shudder at the thought of a stranger invading her home. "I'm afraid there must be some mistake. There's no room for you to stay here."

He raised an eyebrow and looked beyond her. "I can take the couch. No problem. Jack Stockbridge said you'd be expecting me."

Her mind whirled. Because he knew her boss's name didn't mean he was legit. Camp Getaway was hardly a secret project. A ripple of fear crept up her scalp. The way he looked at her when she opened the door, like he was studying her, and not in a man–woman way. A man hadn't looked at her like that in a long time, but not so long she didn't recognize the difference. Had someone connected her to Robert after all these years? No. If they had, that man on the porch would be here with handcuffs, not a duffel bag.

Excerpt from What's In a Name? by Terry Odell
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