A surf competition should be measured in clean takeoffs, difficult maneuvers, and points on a judges’ scorecard. In Pismo Beach Sniper, the first crack of a rifle transforms that familiar coastal scene into a parent’s worst nightmare. Topper Jones places private investigator Thad Hanlon at the center of a case in which professional instincts collide with raw fear: the child in the sniper’s sights is his own. 

Set against California’s Central Coast, the third Thad Hanlon and Bri de la Guerra mystery combines an active investigation with the tension of a threatened family and community. The result is a crime story built around an unusually exposed crime scene—the open water—where reaching the victims is difficult, identifying the shooter is harder, and every new wave can carry another danger.

When sniper fire erupts at the Central Coast Surf Trials at Pismo Beach, private investigator Thad Hanlon is thrust into every parent’s worst nightmare. His eleven-year-old son and two teammates are shot while surfing—one critically injured—plunging the contest into chaos and terrorizing the tight-knit Five Cities beach community. 

The shooter disappears, torching his hideout, leaving only questions in his wake. Random attack—or the first move in a deadly game? Why target young surfers? And is the marksman finished…or just getting started? 

Urged by desperate parents, Hanlon and his sharp-witted partner, Bri de la Guerra, race to protect the kids as they train for the upcoming West Coast Championships. But as the detective duo close in on the sniper, they uncover a chilling truth: the surf team isn’t his ultimate target—and the nightmare is far from over. 

This gripping thriller will keep you turning pages late into the night.

“Engaging characters, wit, and suspense elevate this rip-curling page-turner.”

— Kirkus Reviews

“Pismo Beach Sniper is a tense and fast-moving mystery with real emotional stakes. The target audience is readers who enjoy mystery, private investigator fiction, crime thrillers, action suspense, coastal noir, and family-driven detective series. Readers who like Robert Crais’s Elvis Cole and Joe Pike novels may appreciate the same mix of banter, loyalty, and wounded-hearted heroism, though Jones swaps Los Angeles grit for Central Coast surf and spiritual undertow.”

— Literary Titan

“It felt like I was reading something akin to James Patterson: fast, frighteningly imaginative, and furious with action. Pismo Beach Sniper is a deftly plotted story of a man doing everything to keep his child safe in a world where not only waves can kill.”

— R. Oserio, Readers’ Favorite Reviews

The opening threat is frightening because it unfolds in a place with almost no cover. The young surfers are separated from their families by cold water, distance, and breaking waves, while the person firing remains hidden among the buildings behind the beach. That geography gives the crime immediate tactical complications and makes Thad’s helplessness as a father as important as his skill as an investigator. 

The case also extends beyond finding a shooter. Thad and Bri must determine why children were selected, whether another attack is coming, and how the surf team connects to the sniper’s larger objective. Their partnership gives the investigation two useful angles: Thad brings the emotional urgency of a parent directly affected by the crime, while Bri supplies the sharper distance needed to examine evidence and danger without being overwhelmed by either. 

The surfing setting is more than coastal scenery. Competition routines, equipment, wave conditions, and the physical vulnerability of athletes offshore are woven into the mechanics of the attack. That combination gives the mystery an identity distinct from a conventional urban sniper thriller.

Chapter 1

I was sitting under a beach canopy in the spectator section of the California Central Coast Surf Trials, watching the first heat of the semifinals, when I heard the sonic crack of a large firearm. Something long-range like the scoped high-precision rifle my business partner, Bri, uses to qualify at the Five Cities Shoot’n Center.

“What was that?” my son’s surf coach asked. Gev Burian was sitting on my left. “Sounded like it came from behind us.”

Bri de la Guerra, on my right, stood to check things out. “Cityside, yeah. I’m thinking .30 cal. Maybe three-oh-eight.”

I swiveled to scan the low-rise buildings of downtown Pismo—the seafood cafes, souvenir shops, and beach rentals. Clumps of tourists meandering down narrow Pomeroy Avenue stopped. Some gazed skyward, herd-like, examining the highest roofline—the old Hotel Pier Vista. Others rushed indoors.

When a second blast didn’t happen soon after, I saw pedestrians raise their palms in the classic “what’s up” shrug before continuing their weekend saunter. Some, trailing well-groomed dogs on leashes, took refuge in their smartphones.

I turned to face the Pacific as Bri sat in her folding chair. Coach Gev got out his binocs and we rejoined the hundreds of other parents, friends, and supporters along the beach to watch the tournament.

Three junior surfers, ages eleven to twelve—“grommets” in surf jargon—were perched on their boards 100 yards offshore in the chilly morning waters north of Pismo Pier. The contestants wore different colored jerseys over their wetsuits. Red jersey had priority takeoff; the next wave was his. As the kids waited for the sets to roll in, they bobbed in the mushy surf like sitting ducks.

“Yellow’s down!” Coach Gev shouted. He handed me his binoculars. “The kid’s slumped sideways off his board.”

“Cramp, maybe?” I pressed the field glasses to the bridge of my nose, fiddling with the adjustments. “January water temps are cold, fifty-three, fifty-four degrees. These temps? He should have worn a 5/4/3 mm instead. Maybe even a—”

There was a second sonic crack. I watched Yellow’s board splinter into pieces. Chunks of the foam core ringed the downed contestant as he struggled to keep his head above water.

Red jersey, closest to Yellow, dropped prone and paddled with fury toward him. Just as he was about to grab Yellow’s arm, I heard shot three. There was a splash near the tail of Red’s board.

Red turned turtle, flipping his tri-fin surfboard over so the bottom faced the sky. Only his hands, gripping the sides of the shortboard, were exposed.

Shot four took out Red’s middle fin. Shots five and six took out the two outer fins. Red let go of his board and sank out of view.

That left the eleven-year-old in the light blue jersey as the only contender sitting on the water. My son, Zael, was in full competition mode, hyper-focused on The One Thing—a wave with his name on it. A wave built by the sea gods just for him, for his performance, his tricks, the ones he’d stick. The 10-rating he’d be awarded by all three judges. That perfect ten.

Zael was in the zone, tunnel vision his ally. Chaos bending to will. He had no clue what had happened to Red and Yellow.

I popped out of my beach chair, sprinted from our shade canopy to the shoreline, and screamed as I waded in. “Duck and cover, Zael! Get down! Now!” I waved my arms, zigzagging through the shallows.

My son wasn’t hearing me, wasn’t seeing me, wasn’t even attuned to my panic despite his gift for sensing things unspoken. Zael paddled hard for takeoff, slid into the three-foot wave breaking off the pier, and dropped into the curl. He drove down the line, pumping his board to build speed, then bottom turned, and angled toward the lip to launch into his signature 360-degree air rotation and—

Blam.

Shot seven.

Zael’s right leg buckled. He lost balance and angled into a dive as far away from his board as his leash would let him. When he didn’t come up for air...

Oceano Beach Bedlam

A Thad Hanlon/Bri de la Guerra Mystery, Book 2

Hanlon & de la Guerra have gone full service. In this second book in the surfing crime-fighter mystery series, Thad Hanlon and his martial-arts-obsessed partner, Bri de la Guerra, hang out their shingle as newly licensed private investigators. Now in addition to fraud-busting, the two detectives do it all. Background checks. Surveillance. Even finding lost souls. Just about anything that requires sleuthing or going undercover. 

All they need is a client.

That’s when a former exotic dancer from Bakersfield CA shows up looking for her surf prodigy son who’s gone missing in the wake of cult violence terrorizing the California Central Coast. 

What Critics Are Saying

“A crunchy detective novel set in the world of California surfers. Jones delivers a proper beach read, both in form and content.”

— Kirkus Reviews

“Honestly, I had a blast with this one. Oceano Beach Bedlam is a smart and entertaining read. If you like your mysteries with surfboards, sass, and just enough heart to keep you caring, this one’s for you. It’s a great pick for fans of offbeat detectives, fast dialogue, and sun-drenched noir with a brain and a soul. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy Janet Evanovich, Robert Crais, or the beachier edges of Elmore Leonard.”

— Literary Titan

Amazon * Author’s Site * Bookshop.org * Goodreads

All That Glisters

A Thad Hanlon/Bri de la Guerra Mystery, Book 1

When the facts don’t add up in his surf buddy’s bizarre death, forensic consultant (and daddy-to-be) Thaddeus Hanlon investigates, volunteering to go undercover to pick up where best friend Rafi Silva left off in a secret probe of the U.S. gold stockpile—every last bullion bar. 

Rafi’s spunky fiancée, Bri de la Guerra, has suspicions of her own and soon joins Thad on the hunt for answers. Together, the two amateur sleuths delve deep, stumbling onto a financial a-stock-alypse in the making, triggering a brutal manhunt along the Eastern seaboard meant to silence anyone looking to set the ledger straight. 

What Critics Are Saying

“Jones’ action-packed murder mystery...is tension-fueled with plenty of twists and two appealing sleuths. In this detective series opener, Thad Hanlon, a 27-year-old forensic accountant, becomes the target of a murderous cadre when he accepts a new assignment that takes him from Los Angeles to the East Coast center of power. Woven into the gripping plot are sensual, detailed descriptions of Thad’s adventures riding the waves, which should please the surfer crowd and afford others a visceral sense of the experience.”

— Kirkus Reviews

“All That Glisters by Topper Jones is well-written with not a single dull moment. I liked the way the author included elements of action, mystery, and even some cyber investigating. Overall, I found this book to be an amazing read.”

— Sefina Hawke, Readers’ Favorite Reviews

Amazon * Author’s Site * Bookshop.org * Goodreads

This installment belongs on the list for readers who prefer private investigators to police procedurals and who like a case to carry consequences beyond professional reputation. Thad is not observing another family’s crisis from a safe distance; his son’s injury makes every decision personal and gives the investigation an urgency that cannot be switched off at the office door. 

The book should also suit readers drawn to coastal crime fiction, surfing culture, sniper investigations, and detective partnerships built on contrasting temperaments. Familiarity with the first two books can add context to Thad and Bri’s working relationship, but the central attack, its victims, and the immediate investigation are clearly established in this third installment.

Writing as Topper Jones, award-winning author Christopher G. Jones, Ph.D., delivers detective fiction with a dash of romance, plenty of action, and memorable characters. His Thad Hanlon & Bri de la Guerra Mystery Series has earned Readers’ Favorite Five Stars and the Literary Titan Gold Book Awards. 

Before writing full-time, Jones taught financial reporting and business systems development at the university level and worked in public accounting and consulting. He is a member of The Private Eye Writers of America and International Thriller Writers, and an affiliate of Mystery Writers of America. 

To stay close to family, Jones now lives in the southwestern desert rather than his native California. But when the surf’s up, he’ll make the 450-mile trek to the coast for a little “water therapy.”

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Illusionist

Author: Laurie Buchanan

Series: A Sean McPherson Novel, Book 5

Genre: Mystery & Suspense

Date Published: April 15, 2025

Publisher: SparkPress

For fans of Louise Penny and Robert Dugoni, Illusionist is a contemporary crime thriller where PI McPherson must choose between killing an author at a writing retreat in the Pacific Northwest or letting a college student die.

When an illusionist joins the Pines & Quill writing retreat, one of the owners vanishes without a trace in the middle of everyone, but the surrounding would-be witnesses don’t see or hear a thing. That’s when crime boss Georgio Gambino makes a checkmate move against his nemesis, Sean McPherson. He forces a writer in residence to kill another writer and frame McPherson. In a video call, Gambino warns the writer, “If you don’t follow orders, your daughter will die.” Then, he pans the camera to prove access to her college dorm room.

McPherson discovers that Carmine Fiore, Gambino’s second in command, covets his boss role and is staging a coup. As Gambino’s soldiers traffic drugs, weapons, and humans, Fiore plants incriminating evidence against the notorious Sureños gang. Can McPherson leverage that knowledge for a temporary truce and the gang’s help?

The writers in residence—a former NASCAR driver, a professional triathlete, an architect turned house flipper, and a world-renowned magician who may not be who she appears to be—band together with McPherson to create the illusion of a lifetime.

A blend of Dr. Doolittle, Nanny McPhee, and a type-A Buddhist, Laurie Buchanan is an active listener, observer of details, payer of attention, reader and writer of books, kindness enthusiast, red licorice aficionado, and lover of the Oxford comma.

As a novelist, photographer, and voracious reader, she never travels without three essentials—a laptop, a camera, and a book.

Growing up, she dreamed of being a magician, an international spy, and a mad scientist. There’s still time!

Her writing studio is the hayloft of a historic carriage house in the Pacific Northwest, where creativity thrives. Her husband, Len, a private pilot, and Henry, their not-so-standard Standard Poodle, join her on daily walks. She always carries a camera because sometimes, the best word choice is a picture.

A journey that left an indelible imprint on her was a 20-day, 211-mile trek across the majestic landscapes of Scotland. She, her husband, and their son hiked from the North Sea to the Atlantic Ocean, with the pinnacle being the climb of Ben Nevis at the midpoint of their adventure, the highest point in the British Isles.

"My writing goal is simple: to leave you wanting more." —Laurie Buchanan

A staged séance, a frightened noblewoman, and a murder accusation give Kate Quill little time to regret accepting a job above her station. Clearing her name means crossing the distance between Whitechapel and Belgravia, where wealth protects secrets and Scotland Yard has already settled on its suspect. With a seamstress at the center of the inquiry, petty thieves gathering intelligence, and a former gentleman’s gentleman applying his talent for puzzles, The Belgravia Phantom approaches the Victorian drawing-room mystery from the servants’ entrance.

Victorian mystery fiction as you’ve never read it before
—from well below stairs.

How do you prove you didn’t scare Lady Pemberton to death with a phantom?

Such is Kate Quill’s quandary. The faked séance went horribly wrong, and now Inspector Hartwell of Scotland Yard has her in his sights.

Kate’s poor. Seamstress poor. But what she lacks in the pocket, she makes up for in allies.
There are her siblings. Daisy, the actress. Ned and Vi… There’s no way around this – they’re petty thieves.

There’s Mrs McGinty, their formidable Irish landlady. There are Vi’s Whitechapel Worthies, Little Till (adorable) and the Twins (quite odd).

And there is Frederick Page, former gentleman’s gentleman, chess aficionado, lover of puzzles, and now reluctant partner in an unlikely Victorian detective duo. Please, do not refer to him as Freddie, or he’ll be grasping for the smelling salts.

Can this glorious rabble somehow band together to investigate all those lofty lords and ladies who attended the séance?

And discover who really murdered Lady Dorothea Pemberton?

The Belgravia Phantom is the first in a series of irresistible Victorian murder mysteries from the acclaimed author of the Samuel Pepys Mysteries. Expect fiendish whodunits, singular characters and vivid history. Step into London’s gaslit and swirling pea-soupers, and hear those click-clack footsteps approach...

Kate’s investigation begins from a position most Victorian detectives never occupy: she must solve the crime while poverty, class prejudice, and Scotland Yard’s suspicion work against her. The people assisting her are not respectable professionals with official access. They are siblings, lodgers, street children, thieves, and one exquisitely particular former servant whose knowledge of privileged households may prove as useful as Kate’s nerve.

That arrangement gives the mystery two distinct worlds to examine. Belgravia supplies the séance guests and their protected secrets, while Whitechapel supplies the improvised network capable of uncovering them. The contrast is not decorative background; it shapes who can ask questions, who goes unnoticed, and whose account is likely to be believed.

The excerpt also reveals an interest in the practical details of East End life, from costermongers and naphtha lamps to the small deceptions required to secure a hot meal. Readers can therefore expect the investigation to unfold alongside the routines, resourcefulness, and humor of characters accustomed to surviving without money or influence.

Ned and Vi belong to the evening, when the naphtha lamps of the costermongers’ stalls hiss and flare, and all between is subsumed in shadow. When the streets still throng with shoppers, and the trams and cabs and omnibuses are lit by oil - white light, oncoming; red light, receding - and Whitechapel Road feels interesting to know. When the cries of the chestnut roasters, the fried-fish sellers and the pie-men create a cacophony of distraction. 

This is when they thrive. 

They have their stomachs set on the hawker of baked potatoes, with his lovingly polished can on four legs, its brass plaque proclaiming: “Old Original Baked Potatoes”. The old man who ran the stand for many a year lately died; his errant son has the business now, and shows rather less aptitude for vigilance. 

While Ned lurks in the background, Vi sidles up. Her head tilts this way and that, apparently undecided. She plays with an unseen coin in her hand. The bait. 

Glowing charcoal lights the lad’s face orange. He narrows eyes at her. Steam rises from his burner, and the earthy aroma of the treasure within. 

“What can I have for a ha’penny?” she asks. It is all she could spare, but it should suffice if she plays it right. 

He snorts. “On your way, missy. My prices start at a penny and no less.” 

She glances up and down the road, where the sellers either side, of ham sandwiches, hot green peas and eels, have patrons queueing. 

He kicks a heel. It has not been easy, taking over his father’s trade. The baker who roasts his hundredweights recently upped his fee, and the locals whose custom the old man relied upon have found new flavours elsewhere. Many deserted him for that other potato hawker in Spitalfields. 

As his gaze follows Vi’s, he licks his lips. “S’pose I might be able to find a small one.” 

He opens the wide half-lid, peers inside debating, and picks out the smallest spud he can find. 

“Butter and salt?” she asks innocently. 

“For a ha’penny? Don’t push yer luck.” 

As he hands over the plain fare, she fumbles the coin. The tiniest flick of her thumb sends it skittering into a gutter, his attention trapped on its progress. By the time he has retrieved it, mumbling sourly, Ned has pounced and vanished, melting into the crowd. He moves slickly for a big lad, even one cradling stolen potatoes in an untucked shirt. 

“Sorry. Butterfingers.” Vi smiles, savouring the spud’s warmth as she heads home.

This opening case belongs on the reading lists of mystery lovers who prefer amateur investigators with limited means, sharp social observation, and allies drawn from beyond polite society. The partnership between Kate Quill and Frederick Page should appeal especially to those who enjoy contrasting sleuths: one practical and accustomed to improvisation, the other precise, puzzle-minded, and deeply conscious of proper forms of address. 

The East End ensemble offers another point of entry for readers who value found-family dynamics and supporting characters with active roles in an investigation. Those drawn to Victorian London will find both grand houses and crowded streets represented, while the séance, wrongful suspicion, and closed circle of aristocratic attendees provide the structure of a classic whodunit viewed from an uncommon social angle.

Ellis Blackwood writes very British historical mysteries: fiendish whodunits packed with singular characters, vivid period detail and plenty of wit. His completed nine-book Samuel Pepys Mysteries series is set in 17th century London. He is currently working on the Quill & Page Victorian Mysteries, featuring a found family of East End misfits investigating the crimes of the upper classes who cast them out. 

A former journalist, Ellis wrote features for the UK's most popular national newspapers and magazines before escaping to Cornwall with his wife, two daughters and Spike the dog. He holds an MA in Comedy Writing, which explains a lot. 

He grew up on The Hardy Boys and Three Investigators, graduated to Sherlock Holmes, and has never quite recovered from Columbo. He prefers writing female sleuths, with the odd chap thrown in, and is firmly convinced that historical settings are simply more fascinating. 

“Absolutely fabulous, reek of authenticity, full of intrigue and fun” – Amazon review of the Samuel Pepys Mysteries

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Kate Quill’s first case is built around more than the question of who killed Lady Pemberton. It also asks what an accused seamstress can learn when respectable society refuses to take her seriously—and what becomes possible when the people dismissed by that society combine their particular talents. The séance supplies the phantom, but the sharper tension lies in watching Kate and her unconventional circle challenge a version of events already accepted by those with authority. 

The Whitechapel excerpt makes the series’ intentions especially clear: the lives below stairs and beyond the grand squares are not incidental to the mystery. They are where the partnership, humor, and methods of detection take shape. For readers intrigued by a class-conscious Victorian puzzle with an ensemble of resourceful outsiders, The Belgravia Phantom offers a promising introduction to the Quill & Page investigations.

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