Miss Demeanor, P.I. Series Book Tour & Giveaway

P.I. I Love You Miss Demeanor P.I. Book 1 by Joanne Jaytanie Genre: Romantic Suspense, Mystery, Adventure

Rivers don’t let rocks hold them back. River Nightingale has decided to blow past the rocky men in her life. She’s played by the rules for too long—especially when it came to her career as a cop. She was the top closer of cases for years, but promotions in her small town cop shop went to her less productive male counterparts. River decides it’s time to change careers. She leaves her small town to purchase a Seattle private detective agency and become her own boss. Homicide Detective Gage Hamlin takes pride in his job; he closes cases and fosters justice. All that changed the day River Nightingale sauntered into his office. River has him questioning his pride, his cases, and his aversion to private detectives, especially beautiful private detectives. River’s client thinks Gage got it wrong, and River is forced to prove Gage missed a murder. Will River and Gage find a way to play nice, or will River be forced to leave Gage behind? Add to Goodreads Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo

Twice As Bad Miss Demeanor, P.I. Book 2

For private investigator River Nightingale, the stakes are high, and her losses are twice as bad. River has already lost a partner to a better job, and now a truck has mowed down another partner and a key informant. Her surviving crew is reeling and dead set on finding the killer. Working with them is a Seattle PD homicide detective, Gage Hamlin. Gage and River have been a volatile combination since day one, but now it’s twice as tense, as they both seek the killer and Gage struggles to keep River alive. On the waterfront, Seattle is known for slinging fish, but River’s stakeout of a seafood plant reveals that fish aren’t the only thing being sold on the docks. And if River isn’t careful, fish aren’t the only thing that will end up dead on the docks. Looming dangers lurk closer with every clue River uncovers. River’s business, her relationship, her friends, and her life are all in jeopardy. And the cost of solving the case is at least twice as bad as usual. Add to Goodreads Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo

Joanne was born and raised in Sherburne, New York, a quaint village surrounded by dairy farms and rolling hills. From the moment she could read she wanted to explore the world. During her college years, she slowly crept across the country, stopping along the way in Oklahoma, California, and finally Washington State, which she now proudly calls home. She lives with her husband and Dobermans, in their home located on the Olympic Peninsula with a panoramic view of the Olympic Mountains. Joanne writes romantic suspense, paranormal, mystery-thriller, supernatural suspense, and contemporary romance. She loves to submerge herself in the world of her characters, to live and breathe their lives and marvel at their decisions and predicaments. She enjoys a wide variety of books including paranormal, suspense, thriller, and of course romance. Joanne is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America, (RWA), Kiss of Death, (KOD), Greater Seattle Romance Writers Chapter, (GSRWA), Sisters In Crime (SIC), and Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal, (FFPRWA). She served as President of Peninsula Romance Writers, which was Debbie Macomber’s home chapter. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram Pinterest * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

River walked into the precinct on Fourth Street. The building buzzed with activity. She
wondered why people weren’t falling over one another, given how fast they moved. Yes, she
knew cop shops—she’d spent her last ten years living in one, but the little cop shop in Bear
Creek, Montana was only slightly larger than this lunchroom she peeked into as she passed by.
When she asked for directions to the detectives’ bullpen, the sergeant at the front desk looked her
up and down, rolled his eyes, then pointed behind him and went back to a pile of paperwork.
She walked slowly by each door, reading the nameplates as she passed, until she came to
the door of Homicide Detective Gage Hamlin. The office walls were glass giving her a clear
view of the man sitting at his desk studying his computer. His disheveled coffee-colored hair
brushed the collar of his button-down royal blue shirt. When he looked over the top of his
computer screen, his sapphire-colored eyes locked on hers. River smiled and gave a cursory
knock on the half-opened door.
“Detective Hamlin?” River asked.
“Yeah, last time I checked. Do we have an appointment?” Detective Hamlin asked as he
grabbed his phone, and scrolled through, looking for an answer.
“No. No appointment. However, if you’re not too busy, I wonder if we could chat for a
few minutes?”
Detective Hamlin smiled, rose to his feet, walked around his desk, and pulled the door
open wider. He gestured for her to enter.
“Sure, I have a few minutes. How can I help you, Miss—?” He grabbed the pile of files
and loose papers out of the closest chair and dumped them into the next one over.
“My name is River Nightingale. I’m a private investigator, and I’ve been hired by the
Baxter family to check into their parents’ deaths.”
River watched as his sparkling eyes and dazzling smile faded from his chiseled features.
This reaction would take her a while to get used to. Cops respected other cops, but they had no
regard for private detectives. She had firsthand knowledge. Even the cops in her little shop in
Bear Creek used to treat them like they were week-old gum stuck to the bottom of their shoes. It
irritated her then and it pissed her off now. Although she wasn’t going to give Detective Hamlin
the satisfaction of knowing how she felt.
“I see,” Detective Hamlin said, tight-lipped. “I’ve no idea why they would hire you. I
worked the case and closed it.”
“That’s the point, Detective Hamlin. The Baxters don’t agree with your conclusion and
asked me to review your findings.”
“Now wait one damn minute. Despite how many open cases are assigned to me, I’m a
professional. My work is careful and thorough. On what grounds do they find my work
inadequate? And you—you don’t even know what kind of hoops I have to jump through. You’re
just another ambulance chaser, a clueless private dick.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, nevertheless I do know what kind of hoops you jump through. I
recently left my position as an officer.”
“What? Couldn’t handle the hard work?” He scoffed.
“I thrive on hard work. I worked hard for ten years and closed more cases than all my
colleagues combined. What I do have a problem with is being passed over for promotions while
some yahoo, with half the closed cases and experience, gets the job. And why? Merely because
he has a dick and I don’t.”

He made a grunting sound, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest.
River stared at him, daring him to make his next nasty comment.
“The case is officially mine, meaning anything you do, anything you discover, you tell
me.” He popped forward in his chair and started to punch the keys on his keyboard. “Do you
want a paper copy, or should I email it to you?” he asked.
She’d let his statement slide for now. They both knew it wasn’t true. She didn’t need to
keep him informed. Even so, no sense ruffling his overly irritated ego.
“My client supplied a paper copy. I would appreciate an electronic one, please.” She
pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to him.
“Miss Demeanor Private Investigators.” Hamlin read out loud. “So, you purchased the
old agency.”
“That’s correct. Along with three friends, who are all experienced policewomen.”
“I’ve never heard your name, and I know most of the cops in the city by face, if not
name.”
“I’m not from here.”
“Huh.” He grunted as he studied her.
River quietly withstood his scrutiny. She knew exactly what this jerk was trying to do. He
wanted to make her uncomfortable, test her, try to make her fidget or feel insecure. She wouldn’t
give him the satisfaction.
“I’m heading over to impound right now. Nothing against your report, it’s thorough
enough. All the same, I’m a hands-on type of person. I find I work better when I’m able to
investigate things firsthand and reach my own conclusions. I’ll get out of your hair now. I just
wanted to stop by, introduce myself, and give you a heads-up about the Baxters hiring me to
work their case.”
Hamlin simply stared at her. The look on his face—priceless. She couldn’t help herself.
Forget not wanting to push his buttons. This man needed a little ruffling. River wanted to
smile or stick out her tongue at him. She held her composure. The last thing she needed was to
piss him off more. Like he said, the case was technically still his, closed or open, and if she
wanted any chance of solving it successfully, it would be easier to have him on her side. She
needed to win him over. No better time to start than the present. Her insides cringed and she bit
her bottom lip to keep from groaning.
“However, if you’re free for a bit, I’d appreciate your insight,” she said as she rose from
the chair.
“I can’t spare you much, but I’ll take you over to impound,” he grumbled.

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