A Horse Named Liquor
There's a three-hundred-year-old colonial estate in historic Saratoga Springs, New York. Berkeley Thatch is the owner. She's a nature enthusiast (a nature laureate) who spends most of her time outdoors; tilling the pumpkin fields and upgrading the old waterwheel houses and attending to the needs of her animals: twelve spirited horses, two kennels of crossbreeds, a candy corn colored cat forever on the prowl, koi always in the eye of a particular greedy falcon, and an audacious polecat with a must-see coat.
Her day job, she's a F.B.I. detective.
After the murders of three people in a nearby stretch called Mohawk Valley, she's assigned the cases. One clue at each scene points to the whittled apple: infinite regression. Only somebody with a knowledge of numbers will discover the clues.
Berkeley's the leading expert in the marriage of mathematics and metaphysics. Plus, her colonial estate rivals in any America. It includes an extensive library and a letter by Leonardo Da Vinci, touching on the nature of creation.
There aren't any leviathans in the glossy dark waters of Berkeley's subconscious. She's the high priestess in the temple of reason. The daughter of intuition. Constant repose.
She has obstacles to overcome, though. A lecherous drifter has his eye on her. Something ungodly has possessed her barn full of horses. And reaching out of the psychological stains of the murders, there's a spectral chokehold on her estate's well-being.
The murderer's next potential victim is a pregnant college girl.
Berkeley has a limited time to save her.
Literary Mystery with elements of suspense, horror, the paranormal, abject nature and divine phenomenon.
Available March 17, 2014.
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