Cold Read: Oliana Mercer Series, #3

By Marguerite Ashton

Settling into campus life at the posh Reyersen Academy acting school, Oliana Mercer prepares for an audition for a lead part in a play called Cold. She soon discovers that her new roommate, Mya, is not only vying for the same role but is related to the actress who was murdered in the East Wing. As more stories surface, including the one about a student who went missing a year ago, Oliana wants to find out what's going on. With hardly any clues, she starts snooping around and descends into Reyersen's forbidden East Wing, which mirrors the set for the upcoming play.

As Oliana learns more about the school's past, she begins to suspect people around her might be involved and finds out that acting will be her best chance for survival. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Criminal Lines
• Release date: Jul 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386547419

Marguerite Ashton

When Marguerite Ashton was in her twenties, she took up acting but realized she preferred to work behind the camera, writing crime fiction. A few years later, she married an IT Geek and settled down with her role as wife, mom, and writer. Five kids later, she founded the Crime Writer’s Panel and began working with former law enforcement investigators to create; Criminal Lines Blog, an online library for crime writers who need help with their book research. She’s a workaholic who hides in her writer’s attic, plotting out her next book and stalking Pinterest for the next avocado recipe.  A member of Sisters in Crime and Crime Writers’ Association, Marguerite grew up in Colorado. Now she’s happily living in Wisconsin and playing as much golf as possible. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

Reyersen

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Best. Audition. Ever.

I savored those words as I hopped out of my car and trampled the cobblestones leading up to the enormous doors of prestigious Reyersen Academy.

What was once a sixteen-bedroom mansion owned by 1940’s movie star Penny Holloway was now one of the top five acting schools for women in the United States. Located between the intercoastal waterway and the Atlantic Ocean, I was proud to call Reyersen my home while I completed my conservatory.

With its name and contacts, Reyersen had been worth every nail-biting moment as I sat on the waiting list last summer. Hoping to get in.

Acting is my life. It’s what I live for, although I’ve been asked more than once if being a cop – or, more specifically, a detective – wasn’t number one on my list.

I yanked on the bronze door handle and entered.

I passed the music room and library. Cathedral ceilings. Turn of the century wainscoting. A grand piano and music stands. Endless shelves of leather-bound books. Everything about Reyersen invited closer inspection, quiet examination, prolonged time learning its strengths and nuances. During the past few weeks of the first semester, I had spent many hours absorbed in researching my craft. But today I declined the invitation.

I turned to the left, down the hall leading to my dorm, holding tightly to the script for the upcoming play, Cold. Everything about the character for the part I just auditioned for felt right.

When I entered my room, I waded into Mya’s clothes that were strewn about. I love my roommate to death, but her sloppiness drives me nuts. I kicked a bra, a skirt, two camis, and a pair of her size ten and a half shoes aside, plopped down on my bed, and skimmed over the script.

To land the lead in Cold would be a nice addition to my resumé.

The door swung open. Mya ducked through the doorway and strode in.

She tossed her basketball into the chair across the room. Sorry I didn’t clean up. I needed some time on the court. Lifting her shirt, she wiped the sweat dripping from her chin. She wrapped her braids with a scarf. How about that new play? Good, isn’t it?

I’m so wanting that part.

Me too. I auditioned yesterday.

Why didn’t you say so earlier? I thought you weren’t interested.

I wasn’t until you kept talking about it. I figured if Oliana thought this play was a must, then why shouldn’t I?

You didn’t get the part for that commercial?

Mya scooped up her bra and clothing and tossed them into a heap on her bed. She straightened to her full height. I’ve auditioned for better roles. Besides, there’s just not enough lead roles on stage for black women like me.

I think it’s because you’re like a six-foot-three Amazon with attitude.

Anyway, chuckled Mya. "The roles are limited in Hollywood and indie films. Unless you’re like my idol, Lexi Dobson. She was one of the first black supermodels during the seventies. At least