International Women’s Day Festival Blog Tour: Dig Your Own Grave – Carmen Radtke.

The second of today’s posts is the first of the International Women’s Day Festival posts working with Zooloo’s Book Tours. For today’s stop I have an extract for you, but before we get to that, let’s meet the author and take a look at the book.

Carmen Radtke has spent most of her life with ink on her fingers and a dangerously high pile of books and newspapers by her side. She has worked as a newspaper reporter on two continents and always dreamt of becoming a novelist and screenwriter. When she found herself crouched under her dining table, typing away on a novel between two earthquakes in Christchurch, New Zealand, she realised she was hooked for life. When Carmen is not writing cozy mysteries, reading or dreaming of travel, she is busy acting as resident cat servant or tap-dancing (badly, but enthusiastic).
She is currently working on her next Jack and Frances mystery.

Across The Web:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CarmenRadtke1
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/carmen-radtke
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorcarmenradtke
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/scribbler25/
Website: carmenradtke.com

Now we’ve met the author, let’s take a look at the book.

Marie Ingram is kind, generous, and lately, a killer …
When her childhood friend takes her own life to escape marital hell, Marie is devastated. But when the widower sets his eyes on a new wife, she knows what she has to do:
Make sure no other woman suffers the same fate.
Knowing she may not have long to live due to a serious illness, Marie considers this her parting gift to the world.
But doing good by breaking bad is a very easy habit to fall into, and there are plenty more evil people who seem to be untouchable by the law.
The question is, is Marie fast becoming irredeemable herself?

Published: March 11th 2022. Spellbound Books. Page Count: 272.

Book Hype.
The Story Graph.
Goodreads.
Amazon.
Book Depository.
Waterstones.

Finally, it’s time for the extract.

The soil hit the coffin with a muffled thud. Marie Ingram stepped away from the open grave.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, drowning out every other sound.
“If you ask me, the wrong person’s in that grave.” Detective Inspector Peter Bell chewed harder on his nicotine gum. His sleeve swiped over the beer-soaked ring on the oak table in the snug, but he didn’t notice. Or care.
“I know.” Marie put one hand on top of the other to stop the tremor. The sunshine poured through the leaded windows, crisscrossing the table with flickering shafts of light. The weather made everything worse. The heavens should have sent a deluge, or a hailstorm, to mark Ellie’s funeral. Instead, the small gathering had basked in an unseasonal mild December afternoon.
“He killed her, as good as if he’d slashed her wrists himself.” Peter reached for his third
pint. He and Marie were the only mourners left. Ellie hadn’t been close to many people when she took that final step into oblivion. Her husband had seen to that.
“If only –” Marie paused. “I should have called her as soon as I moved back home, but I
was so busy with my own affairs I kept putting it off. And even before that. I should have realised something was wrong.”
“Don’t blame yourself. She kept it secret what happened behind closed doors. And you
had your own problems. I was sorry to hear about your mum, although the death notice at least led me back to you.”
“But you knew about Ellie?”
Peter took another swig. “She asked me about restraining orders, must have been fifteen
years ago. Her arms were black and purple. She tried to hide the bruises, but her sleeve kept slipping up.”
“Fifteen years?” The blood pounded in Marie’s ears as she imagined the pain and fear
that her old schoolfriend must have lived in for all that time.
“Next time I met her, she waved it off,” Peter said. “There was nothing I could do to help her, without her cooperation. Why do you think so many bastards get away with abuse? Especially if they’ve got money and wear bespoke suits? The wives are convinced nobody will believe them and just keep quiet.”
He took out his police ID card and turned it in his hands. “Makes me sick sometimes.
Here I am, sworn to uphold the law and protect the innocent, and what happens? Nothing, that’s what. Every bloody week I see someone walk scot-free who should’ve been banged up. Or rot in a grave, like Ellie.”
He put the card away. “I’ve seen the body and her medical files. Scars from cigar burns,
broken bones that hadn’t been set properly. Looks like every time a business deal went sour, she copped it. And he’ll do it again, to another one. I’ll stake my pension on that.” A taste of bile crept into Marie’s mouth.

What a fab extract! Does this seem like a book you’d enjoy? Let me know in the comments below. Don’t forget to check out the other bloggers taking part in the International Women’s Day Festival Blog Tour by checking out the graphic below, or the schedule HERE.