Author Archives: Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez

Young Adult Cozy Mystery

Date Published: 6/23/25

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

With no good options, Sara enters the contest and finds herself at a fabulous
mansion up against eight formidable opponents, each with a dark secret and all
racing to solve seven levels of riddles and puzzles.

After a contestant’s body is discovered, Sara contemplates dropping out
when another package arrives, its chilling contents making clear she’s
at the center of a dangerous game with deadly consequences if she quits. But
what it doesn’t say is—what happens if she wins?

EXCERPT

The attorney opened the blue folder. “Before reading the contest rules, I would like to briefly introduce the contestants, all of whom are based in the greater-Birmingham area, and their associates, if any.” He nodded in my direction. “With the exception of Miss Donovan, who is from Annapolis but goes to school in Tuscaloosa. When I say your name, please raise your hand.” His attention focused on the man who saw himself superior to all in the room. “Mr. Karsh Azarian.”

The pompous violin expert flicked a hand.

Winston nodded toward the man. “Mr. Azarian, who is here on his own, is a former collegiate basketball player at an academically-elite university and financial asset manager with an enviable record of providing returns that consistently beat the market by a surprising margin.” He paused. “And apparently, he’s also a Stradivarius aficionado.”

Azarian glowered but said nothing.

“Ms. Jessica Doerr,” Winston said, looking at a platinum-bottle-blonde unsuccessfully trying to appear in her fifties. She briefly raised her hand. Next to her sat a withered woman easily in her eighties. “Ms. Doerr, who is here with her mother, Virginia Byrd, is a mortgage banker with her own agency, specializing in refinancing services for the senior community.” He looked to the flip-flops dude slumped in one of the chairs. “Mr. Rodney Toft.”

“I go by Rod,” the frizzy-haired man stressed.

“Very well,” Winston replied. “Mr. Toft, who brought his girlfriend, Ashley Tennison, is a cryptocurrency exchange investor and trader as well as a technology venture capitalist. His recent meteoric rise with regards to wealth generation has been the talk of the financial world.” He motioned to the seething lady who had spoken up earlier. With a fake smile, he said, “Everyone met Ms. Olivia Fantucci, who is an attorney with her own firm specializing in large class-action lawsuits and personal injury. People either love her or hate her.” 

The lady returned the attorney’s plastic smile with a death stare, thin lips pressed tight, eyes mere slits. Menacing.

Winston’s smile broadened, lingering on Fantucci for a second or two. “Ms. Fantucci’s associate is her friend, Marissa Chevalier.” He turned to a trim grandfatherly-looking man with short, white hair, a receding hairline, and a hooked nose. Sitting next to him was an elegantly-understated woman with an air of quiet wealth and privilege. “Mr. Spencer Fernsby.”

The man half-stood and threw a little wave and nod before sitting again.

“Mr. Fernsby, who is here with his wife of forty-eight years, Kathleen Fernsby, is the founder, CEO, and majority shareholder of the telecom giant, CLATEL Communications. In a mere five years, Mr. Fernsby has overseen the growth of CLATEL from a mid-sized regional provider to a national behemoth and stock-market darling.” Winston gestured to the gorgeous musician. “You also have met Mr. James Dougal, who, like Mr. Azarian, is here on his own. He is a real estate agent with his own agency specializing in high-end luxury properties.”

Dougal stood and bowed, a glittery smile on his face. “If you’re looking to buy or sell, call—”

“Mr. Dougal,” Winston interjected, “this is neither the time nor place for personal aggrandizement or”—he gave him the snootiest of looks—“advertising.”

Jimmy’s heartwarming smile vanished. Putting up a hand, he said, “My apologies,” and quickly sat.

Like he did earlier with Fantucci, Winston’s gaze lingered on Jimmy before addressing the car salesman. “Mr. Burl Jablonsky is the owner of four car dealerships—”

“Five,” Scooter said.

“Excuse me, five car dealerships including—”

“Just opened the fifth last month. Probably why you don’t have it in that there file.”

Winston eyed the beaming Jablonsky. “Yes, of course, you did. Mr. Jablonsky is the owner of five car dealerships including two luxury franchises. Correct, Mr. Jablonsky?”

The car man gave a thumbs-up. “Yes, sir. And like I said, y’all can call me Scooter. Got the nickname way back when I bought a scooter franchise and my baby brother here, Billy—” 

Winston broke in. “Thank you, Mr. Jablonsky, but you can regale everyone with your colorful life stories over the next two weeks during dinner, which I will be getting to momentarily. Mr. Jablonsky’s brother, William Jablonsky, is his associate.” He extended an arm toward a dull-looking man in a plain black suit with a long, narrow face, pallid skin, and slicked-down silver hair combed to the side. “Now here we have Mr. Frederick Volkov, an immensely successful financier, stock trader, and arbitrageur. And as all can see, Mr. Volkov’s associate is his brother, Ivan Volkov.”

The dour Frederick Volkov sat motionless, heavy-lidded gray eyes focused on Winston with a burning intensity contrary to his persona. Next to him sat a carbon copy of the man, less the white-hot glare. His identical twin. And I mean—identical. Right down to the suits they wore.

Winston turned to me. “And last but certainly not least, we have Miss Sara Donovan, a business student at the University of Alabama and a nationally-recognized amateur sleuth. With her is Miss Donovan’s friend, Miss Zoe Harp.”

I gave a half-wave, my ears burning.

Winston consulted the folder in his hand. “Miss Donovan is the only contestant under twenty-one, although she will be celebrating a birthday tomorrow.” His gaze settled on me. “Which happens to be the Ides of March.”

Scooter jumped up. “Hey, y’all, you know what they say,”—he jabbed a stubby finger at me—“beware the Ides of March.”

About the Author

 B.T. Polcari is a graduate of Rutgers College of Rutgers University, an
award-winning mystery author, and a proud father of two wonderful children.
He’s a champion of rescue pups (Mauzzy is a rescue), craves watching
football and basketball, and, of course, loves reading mysteries. Among his
favorite authors are Richard Osman, D.P. Lyle, Frederick Forsyth, and Michael
Connelly. He is also an unapologetic fantasy football addict. He lives with
his wife in scenic Chattanooga, Tennessee.

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