An Affair With Murder - Book Tour and Giveaway

​ A Romance writer tries to solve a murder.
Suspects? The three investigators!  

An Affair With Murder
by Robert Sells
Genre: Mystery Romance  

 Devastated by the murder of her best friend after the prom, Rebecca has a nervous breakdown and flees her hometown. Twelve years later, now a successful author, she struggles with agoraphobia. Her therapist insists she return home for closure. But when she arrives, she's horrified to find there’s been another grisly murder identical to the first one.

The three officers of the law handling the investigation are former friends of Rebecca and, coincidentally, love interests in high school. Knowing she is writing a murder-mystery, the three men agree to share their findings with her. Rebecca stumbles upon a note from the original homicide suggesting that the killer has be one of the three investigators. But which one? Not knowing who to trust, Rebecca decides to solve the case on her own. As she gets closer to uncovering the truth, it looks like she will be the next victim.


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When I left the diner, the sidewalks were empty. Fortunately, my car had been parked right outside the restaurant. As I started the engine, two headlights appear in my rear-view mirror. Another parked car about half a block away. I pulled out and so did the other car. Just a freaky coincidence, Rebecca. Don’t panic. I turned down Main Street and the other car followed. Could it be John? 
I slowed down for a red light and, in my rear-view mirror, I saw two bright lights grow larger and disappear. The other car must be right at my bumper! A large semi lumbered toward the intersection at right angles to me. My car jolted forward as my head was thrown back. What the hell? The car behind me, bumper-to-bumper was forcing my car into the intersection! I jammed my breaks as hard as I could, but my car kept going forward. The truck swept by me, inches from my front bumper. Without checking for any cars, I shifted my foot from the brake to the accelerator and shot through the intersection. Climbing the slight hill, my speedometer hit sixty. I barely slowed down for my street and made a sharp turn, the passenger side wheels biting into the grass-covered shoulder. I went down my street and made a screeching turn into my driveway. As I bolted from my car, I saw headlights enter the street from the distant corner. 
I fumbled for the key, dropped it, retrieved it, waiting for that damn car to stop in front of my house. The key slipped into the lock and I opened the door. Once inside, I locked the door and turned off the lights. My heart slammed beneath my ribs. What should I do? Call the police? I peeked outside my window. Down the street, a few doors past my house, the car pulled alongside the curb and turned off its light. Was that the same car? The driver side door opened slowly. 
My head jerked around. The back door? Was it locked? I raced to the back door and checked it. Locked. Back to the front door. Peeked outside the window. The strange car was gone. 
I thought about calling Dave, but it all seemed so surreal. Was I overreacting? I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. For a few moments I just sat in the dark watching both the back and front doors. I waited for about an hour and finally went to bed … with a chair braced against my bedroom door, the knife resting on my bedside table.

I attended college at Ohio Wesleyan where I struggled with physics. Having made so many mistakes in college with physics, there weren’t too many left to make and I did quite well at graduate school at Purdue.

I worked for twenty years at Choate Rosemary Hall, an exclusive boarding school in the heart of Connecticut. More often than not, students arrived in limousines. There was a wooded area by the upper athletic fields where I would take my children for a walk. There, under a large oak tree, stories about the elves would be weaved into the surrounding forest.

Returning to my home town to help with a father struggling with Alzheimer’s, the only job open was at a prison. I taught an entirely different clientele whose only interaction with limousines was stealing them. A year later Alfred State College hired me to teach physics. I happily taught there for over ten years.
My wife’s boss, the superintendent of a rural school in western New York, begged me to teach physics and earth science. Helping young high school students was particularly appealing to me at this point in my career and the salary was more than reasonable, so I find myself happily teaching at Mt Morris Central School.

Five years ago, my wife pestered me about putting to “pen” some of the stories which I had created for the children and other relatives. I started thinking about a young boy and a white deer, connected, yet apart. Ideas were shuffled together, characters created and the result was the Return of the White Deer. This book was published by the Martin Sisters.

Years ago I gave a lecture on evolution. What, I wondered, would be the next step? Right away I realized that silicon ‘life’ had considerable advantages over mortal man. Later this idea emerged as the exciting and disturbing story called Reap the Whirlwind.

Two years ago I stumbled upon an old article in the local paper about a Brinks’ robbery in 1992. Apparently over ten million dollars were stolen and most of it was never recovered. Although the mafia was peripherally involved in the heist, it was unlikely they took the missing millions. This was the seed which has now grown into the young adult novel, The Runner and the Robber.

I have many other stories inside my mind, fermenting… waiting patiently for the pen. Perhaps someday I will even write about those elves which still inhabit the woods in the heart of Connecticut.

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