Do you love mysteries? So do I. I was that geeky kid who spent their weekends at the library devouring every Ag of the Christie book, every Nancy Drew novel, and waiting breathlessly for the latest issue of the Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock mystery magazines.

Fast forward decades later and that inner child remains the same.

I am still obsessed with the brilliant twisty witty mysteries in these two

legendary magazines magazines that by the way have been around for over half a century

and now I barely have the words to describe my excitement in announcing my new show in collaboration with these publications that I have loved since childhood.

Rabia Jodri presents The Mystery Hour with the Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen Mystery Magazines.

Every week I'll narrate the best mystery and suspense stories from acclaimed award-winning

writers published in both the Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock

Mystery Magazines, stories that will keep you on your toes and guessing until the

very end. The podcast launches July 17th, so find Rabiachaggery presents The Mystery Hour with the

Alfred Hitchcock and Elry Queen Mystery magazine on your favorite podcast app

and subscribe today. Now here's a sneak peek at the premiere episode of the Mystery Hour, a small mercy by Alice Hatcher.

In fairness to myself, there was something exceptional about that night, an odd

confluence of factors muting my apprehension, my appreciation of danger.

I'd had a terrible time at work battling one mishap after the other and left with a throbbing headache that only worsened as the barometric pressure plunged, presaging the kind of monsoon storm that can erupt without warning in southern Arizona.

The headache alone might have driven anyone to distraction.

If I'm to be honest, my response to finding the door open extended well beyond fear and shaded into something close to rage.

I experienced a primal, almost predatory impulse to track down anyone hiding inside the house.

To the rising whale of police sirens, I slipped into the kitchen,

set my briefcase on the counter, and by the light of the oven's digital display drew a chef's knife from the butcher block beside the sink.