Unfortunately, Mike Nappa was unable to be interviewed for todayâ€™s podcast episode; however, his coauthor Melissa Koski and I had a lovely conversation about their latest book, the entire Coffey and Hill series and writing in general. Click the link below to listen in, sit back and enjoy the show.
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Friday, July 10, 2020
MORE ABOUT GUEST AUTHOR Melissa Kosciâ€¦
Melissa Kosci is a fourth-degree black belt in and certified instructor of Songahm Taekwondo. In her day job as a commercial property manager, she secretly notes personal quirks and funny situations, ready to tweak them into colorful additions for her books. She and Corey, her husband of twenty years, live in Florida, where they do their best not to melt in the sun.
A Dream Within a Dream, the third book in the Coffey and Hill series cowritten by Mike Mike Nappa and Melissa Kosci.
He may be the key to solving one of the greatest unsolved art heists in history
Trudi Coffey hasn’t seen Samuel Hill in weeks. Then the FBI shows up asking about him. After a strange encounter with an armed man demanding her help and an attack by a member of the Boston mob looking for someone named Dream, Trudi manages to find Samuel–or rather, he finds her. He’s made some pretty powerful enemies, but right now his full attention is on protecting Dream from the mob. Because Dream has something they want–the map to the location of artwork stolen from the Gardner Museum during the infamous 1990 heist.
With danger closing in from all sides, Trudi and Samuel will have to call on all their allies to keep Dream safe and discover the identities of the people who have been hunting down Samuel. The real questions are, whom can they trust? And who will make it out of this alive?
â€œLetâ€™s try this,â€ she said. â€œTell me what you know about The Dream, and Iâ€™ll be on my way.â€
â€œIf I knew something, Iâ€™d tell you. Why is this Dream person dangerous? What did he do?â€
She leaned closer. â€œHe murdered two men in cold blood.â€
â€œI never have gotten that saying. In cold blood. What does that even mean?â€
Agent Uribe gritted her teeth. â€œIt means he showed no remorse. He feels no empathy.â€
The waitress walked back over. â€œDo you want to ordah somethinâ€™ to eat?â€
â€œAbsolutely. Iâ€™m famished.â€ Samuel smiled and picked up the menu. â€œHmm . . . are the jalapeÃ±o poppers good?â€
â€œIf you like hot.â€
Samuel pursed his lips. â€œMaybe the burger, beer, and fries. Whatâ€™s a Narragansett? Wait, isnâ€™t that the name of a town?â€
Uribe was glaring at him.
â€œThey make lagahs,â€ the waitress said.
â€œEh, maybe I shouldnâ€™t have a beer. What about . . . kabobs? You serve kabobs? Thatâ€™s interesting.â€
â€œIs that what youâ€™d like?â€ The waitress sounded slightly annoyed.
â€œNo, I donâ€™t think so. Just give me a cheeseburger and fries.â€ He folded the menu.
The waitress wrote down the order and went back into the kitchen.
Samuel turned back to Uribe and probably enjoyed the frustration on her face a little too much. â€œSo,â€ he said, â€œwho was it that this Dream person killed anyway?â€
â€œDoes that matter? Killing is killing.â€
â€œI think it matters quite a lot. Killing isnâ€™t necessarily the same thing as murder.â€
â€œHow could they possibly be different?â€
â€œWell, if some madman with a gun walked into this diner right now and you had to shoot him with your side arm in order to defend innocent civilians, that wouldnâ€™t be murder.â€
â€œThat would be in the line of duty. The Dream is not law enforcement.â€
â€œWhat if that waitress had a gun behind the counter and did the same exact thing? That wouldnâ€™t be murder.â€
â€œDo you have a point with all this?â€
â€œJust wondering about this Dream person youâ€™re so interested in.â€
â€œHe killed two people. He was found with a bloody knife in his hand. He had no defensive injuries. Heâ€™s a murderer.â€
â€œWhatâ€™s his side of the story?â€
â€œHe says he doesnâ€™t remember. Conveniently.â€
â€œWitnessing something like that could be awfully traumatic. Iâ€™ve seen memory loss from something like that.â€
â€œAre we going to get back to the point anytime soon?â€
He grinned. â€œWhat was the point of your visit again? Oh, right, you think I know where this Dream person is. Sorry, Agent Uribe. Iâ€™m just a tourist here in Boston. If you asked me about something that went down in Atlanta, or perhaps some other key locations in certain countries, I could help you, but all I know about Boston is what I learned on my tour down the Freedom Trail. Man, that was some good stuff. You ever been on that tour? Boston Common is beautiful, though Iâ€™m sure itâ€™s even lovelier during spring. And seeing the Old North Church, where Robert Newman and Captain John Pulling climbed the steeple to signal to Paul Revere and William Dawes that the British were coming, was amazing.â€
â€œOkay,â€ she said. â€œObviously, youâ€™re not going to tell me where he is.â€
â€œWould if I could.â€
She smirked, then opened her mouth but stopped when the waitress came over with Samuelâ€™s burger.
â€œThis looks delicious,â€ Samuel said. â€œThank you.â€
The waitress walked away to help an elderly woman and a little girl whoâ€™d come in and sat at a booth in the other end of the diner.
Samuel took a big bite of the burger and chewed slowly, partially because he was actually hungry and partially just to annoy Uribe. In his experience, people got messy when impatient and frustrated, and if he was good at one thing, it was frustrating people.
He squeezed some ketchup onto his plate and dipped a few fries in it. The food tasted better than it should have. Heâ€™d barely been eating.
â€œAll right,â€ Uribe said. â€œYouâ€™re not going to tell me where The Dream is. Just tell me what youâ€™ve found out so far, and Iâ€™ll leave.â€
Samuel finished chewing and swallowed. â€œFound out about what? You mean the Freedom Trail?â€
â€œDonâ€™t play with me, Samuel.â€
He popped a fry into his mouth and chewed while looking at her.
â€œThe Gardner Museum heist,â€ she said.
â€œYou think this Dream person knows something about that?â€
â€œHe was an art forger.â€
â€œYouâ€™re saying he forged some of the missing artwork?â€
â€œSo exquisitely that he had to have had access to the originals.â€
He smiled. â€œNow it makes sense. Youâ€™re from the art crimes team, right?â€
â€œI read something about that heist once. Those guys were petty brazen. They were never caught, right? Does the bureau have any theories about where they disappeared to? I mean, the guards saw their faces. That shouldâ€™ve helped, right?â€
â€œI need to find that missing artwork, Samuel.â€
And there it was. He knew what was going on with Uribe, why something about her hadnâ€™t sat right from the very beginning.
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