The Hoosac Tunnel Murders : A Ginger O'Leary Mystery
The Hoosac Tunnel Murders begins when seventeen-year old Ginger O'Leary is driven from her bed in the dead of night by a vision of murder within the depths of the "bloody pit." Terrified by what she has experienced, Ginger could little know that this gift from her ancestors would not only set her on the path of self-discovery, but also a quest to secure justice for the victims. It's 1865 and two Massachusetts railroads are competing for an exclusive route across the state to Troy, New York and the emerging markets of Chicago and the west. However, a mountain range nearly five miles wide at its base blocks completion of the northern route. Since 1852 the plan has been to blast a hole through what engineers called the Hoosac Tunnel and workers sardonically named the "bloody pit." So far, all the project had accomplished was to devour money invested in it, ruin careers of engineers who designed it and kill many of the men who worked on it. When a nitroglycerine blast kills two men and injures one, another accident is assumed. But the haunting of Ginger by souls of the men crushed and ripped apart in the blast told a different story. The injured man may have been a friend, but he was also their murderer! But, why? Just when Constable Captain Charles O'Leary, Constable Sergeant CJ Mulcahy and Ginger are about to get an answer they find an empty cell and are confronted with the probability that some very powerful people did not want that question answered. But, these people haven't met Ginger O'Leary and the power of An Dara Sealladh. They also haven't met Doctor Samuel N. Briggs and his motley crew of almost criminals who assist Ginger, her Da and her two loves in ferreting out the truth.
- Paperback | 366 pages
- 152.4 x 228.6 x 20.83mm | 621.42g
- 12 Mar 2015
- United States
- black & white illustrations
About Chris H Wondoloski
Several years ago I woke up and it was over. Retirement. No longer travelling to Drury High School in the morning darkness of the Berkshire winter or driving home to the serenade of the car defroster; I began living a perpetual "snow day." However, I had two problems: Golf courses close in the winter and advertisements to "Go south, old man!" interested me not in the least. I love Berkshire winters. So, I filled them by reading. And then reading some more. I was having the time of my life discovering new authors and new literary genres. I was a small boy in the North Adams Public Library candy store. But, I wasn't a small boy. Of course I had to complicate things. I didn't just enjoy, or not enjoy stories. I had to rip them apart and analyze why. I couldn't help myself. It was in my Zoologist's blood. It didn't take long to compile a mental list of what I valued in a writer's style and substance. Over time, items were added and discarded. Then one day I decided it was time to either put up or shut up. Could I do better than the authors I'd so carefully scrutinized? Almost as well? Could I be lousy? Could I finish a chapter, a paragraph? There was only one way to find out. This is how I got myself into this...I just couldn't help it.