The Soul Searchers Mysteries Book Tour & Giveaway

Donn’s Hill The Soul Searchers Mysteries Book 1 by Caryn Larrinaga Genre: Cozy Paranormal Mystery Print Length: 290 pages Publication Date: April 5, 2019

Ghosts. Psychics. Murder. Just another day in Donn’s Hill. Mackenzie Clair needs a fresh start. The death of her father and a broken relationship rendered her old life unlivable. What better place to build a new one than Donn’s Hill, the most haunted town in America and her favorite childhood vacation spot? But returning to Donn’s Hill awakens more than nostalgia. As memories resurface, so does a lost psychic ability to talk to the dead… a power the poltergeist haunting Mac’s apartment is eager to use. Aided by her new roommate—a spirited Tortoiseshell cat named Striker—and the ghost-hunting crew of the Soul Searchers, Mac struggles to control her newfound talents. She’d better get a handle on them fast, because someone in town is hiding a deadly secret. If Mac can’t divine the truth, Donn’s Hill will never be the same. First in a new series, this cozy paranormal mystery was the 2017 winner of the League of Utah Writers Silver Quill award. “A genre-bending gem of a book, cozy meets horror meets cat fancier in a unique town of psychic tourism and ghostly secrets.” -Johnny Worthen, award winning author of THE FINGER TRAP, THE BRAND DEMAND and WHAT IMMORTAL HAND Look for all of Caryn Larrinaga’s spooky mysteries featuring psychic Mac and her spirited tortoiseshell cat, Striker!Goodreads * Amazon

Donn’s Shadow The Soul Searchers Mysteries Book 2 Print Length: 311 pages Publication Date: October 22, 2019

Return to the most haunted small town in America… Mackenzie Clair finally has this whole ghost- hunting psychic thing figured out. The Soul Searchers are a hit, she’s got pet-parenting down, and she even has a plan to banish the poltergeist running amok at a lakeside cabin. Best of all, Donn’s Hill feels like home. But not everyone loves the town as much as Mac. A world-famous paranormal debunker thinks the psychics in Donn’s Hill are lying about their abilities. His determination to destroy the Soul Searchers threatens Mac’s livelihood, and when a killer strikes, the sheriff’s suspicions threaten her freedom. Mac needs all the help she can get to find the real murderer and clear her name… even if that help comes from beyond the grave. Goodreads * Amazon

Caryn Larrinaga is an award-winning mystery, horror, and urban fantasy writer. Her debut novel, Donn’s Hill, was awarded the League of Utah Writers 2017 Silver Quill in the adult novel category and was a 2017 Dragon Award finalist. Watching scary movies through split fingers terrified Caryn as a child, and those nightmares inspire her to write now. Her 90-year-old house has a colorful history, and the creaking walls and narrow hallways send her running (never walking) up the stairs. Exploring her fears through writing makes Caryn feel a little less foolish for wanting a buddy to accompany her into the tool shed. Caryn lives near Salt Lake City, Utah, with her husband and their clowder of cats. She is an active member of the League of Utah Writers and the Utah Chapter of the Horror Writers Association. Visit CarynLarrinaga.com for free short fiction and true tales of haunted places. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

A shout from behind us cut off my question. “Penelope!”
I twisted in my seat. Kit was marching across the lobby toward us so quickly that I swear her
green hair was flying behind her in a streak. Her eyes narrowed in fury, and I cringed away from
her. Kit didn’t get angry often, but when she did…
She reached us and slammed her hand down on the table. “Raziel Santos? Are you kidding
me?”
She lifted her hand, revealing a small flyer. A man about my age with severe cheekbones
glared up at me from the sheet. He was doing something Kit’s father Yuri often did, looking over
the top of his glasses at the camera as though he didn’t even need prescription lenses. His cold,
light eyes looked almost as angry as Kit’s. Below his photo, blue ink proclaimed RAZIEL
SANTOS, FILMING LIVE FROM DONN’S HILL THIS OCTOBER!
“Who is Raziel Santos?” I asked. 
“He’s that jerk magician I told you about,” Kit spat. “He’s gotten famous on the back of the
occult community. Specifically, by being a prick to psychics and the people who ask for their
help.”
“He’s a world-renowned magician,” Penelope said, pointedly turning toward me as though
to exclude Kit from the conversation. 

“And paranormal debunker.” Kit snatched up the flyer again and whipped it with the back of
her hand. “Why would you invite him here? He’s the opposite of everything Donn’s Hill stands
for.”
Penelope shook her head. “That’s not true. The town has a long history of inviting skeptics
to the Afterlife Festival. Houdini’s visit did wonders for our reputation.”
“Raziel Santos is no Houdini,” Kit growled.
“Your father seems to think so,” Penelope said. “It was his idea to invite him here.”
“Bullshit.”
“We got to talking one night and…” Penelope tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear
and looked away from us. “And he recommended I reach out to Mr. Santos to invite him here.”
Kit’s nostrils flared, and crimson heat crept up her face from her collar. “If that were true, he
would have told me.”
“He knows how you feel about Mr. Santos. He thought—”
“Oh, so you two are talking about me now?” Kit threw her hands up into the air. “Great.
That’s great.”
As they argued, I pulled out my phone and searched for Raziel Santos. The internet seemed
to be as divided about him as Kit and Penelope. The top few results were fan pages that called
him “mysterious and sexy,” but there were also news reports of defamation lawsuits being filed
against him and lots of angry forum posts. I clicked the link to his official website and scanned
the homepage. 
“Raziel Santos,” proclaimed the silver script across the black background. “The truth is right
here.”
Striker rubbed her jaw on the lower corner of my phone. I reached down with my free hand
to scratch between her ears. If I didn’t pet her quickly enough, she’d bite my phone to get me to
put it down.
“Kit, please.” Penelope gestured to the empty chair beside her and held up a single finger to
the barista. “Won’t you sit down and talk about this rationally?”
“What is there to talk about? This guy is literally trying to destroy my father’s show and
everything we’ve worked for. And you’re throwing him a freaking cocktail party?”
I raised an eyebrow at Penelope. “Cocktail party?”
She sighed and narrowed her gray eyes at Kit. “It’s a reception, the kind you throw an
honored guest. Mr. Santos and his team graciously agreed to film their next special here. We
can’t buy that kind of publicity.”
Kit snorted and looked away, but I studied Penelope. Her cold eyes and pinched brow made
her irritation clear, but she pulled her shoulders backward and kept her spine straight. She
exuded confidence, same as she had in nearly every encounter I’d ever had with her. She was a
smart woman. Or was shrewd the better word? Either way, I had a feeling she was right.
Penelope turned toward me then. “Speaking of which, dear, I was planning to invite you
before you left here. Light hors d’oeuvres and drinks, Friday night at The Enclave.”
I glanced at Kit, who was shooting daggers out her eyes at me. “Oh, Friday? Uh… Kit and I
were going to—”
Penelope held up a hand. “No RSVP needed. Casual attire is fine if you attend.” She stood,
cradling her coffee cup in one hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork left to do in
my office here and then a monstrous pile of tasks waiting for me at City Hall.”
I moved to stand as well, but Penelope waved her hand at me. 

“Stay and finish your coffee,” she said. It was one part invitation, one part order. She left us
with a final wave, disappearing behind a door near the coffee counter marked PRIVATE.
Kit threw herself into the chair across from me with a huff, reached over, and stole my
coffee. She sipped it and scowled. “Of course it’s amazing.”
The young barista, as though on cue, hustled over to our table with a fresh mug. I reached
for it, but Kit slapped my hand and slid my original cup back across the table. 
“You ruined it with too much cream,” she said.
“I thought it was ‘amazing.’”
“Yeah, so I expect it to be mind-blowing when you treat it right.” 
“So. Want to explain why you’re so pissed off at Penelope?”
“What, did your ears fall off? She invited that prick—”
“Come on, Kit,” I said. “You told me yourself, your dad loves this guy. He was asking
ScreamTV to sponsor a joint episode, right? Is this big special the thing he was asking them to
do?”
“No.” Her eyes flashed. “He wanted our teams to do something together. Here’s the bottom
line: Penelope put the idea into Dad’s head. She’s a manipulative, controlling psycho.”
I blinked, taken aback. Her voice was much harsher than it’d been in the van, and her words
were razor sharp. “You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, I mean it.” She pushed back from the table and stood up. “Everyone looks at Penelope
like she’s the queen of this town, but the truth is, she’ll be the death of it.”
With that ominous proclamation, Kit stormed out of the inn, coffee cup and all.

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