Yes, it’s the first Monday morning after the time change and even though it’s lighter, some of us are still dragging. But I have a guest who’s sure to lift your spirits. Take a murder mystery, throw in horses, music, and romantic suspense and you’ve got yourself an engaging read – the reviews I’ve read of this book confirm it. Plus, it just earned a Crowned Heart review from InD’Tale Magazine. Here’s Jan Sikes to brighten up your Monday!
I’m happy to be visiting your blog site today, Teri. I’m surprised you are still around to do blogs after your month-long Bad Moon Rising! Every post was fun. I deeply appreciate your generosity and support.
I love including a lot of my own metaphysical experiences in my writing. In my new book, Saddled Hearts, the female protagonist is a medium. That means she can communicate with souls from beyond the grave. When Jag Peters first suggests to Colt that he consider making an appointment with Sage Coventry, he shrugs it off. But the more he thinks about it, the more he decides he needs some answers from his grandfather, who is deceased. A man has shown up at the ranch laying claim to it based on a supposed poker game with the grandfather, Buck Layne, many years past.
Let’s take a peek into the session with Sage.
“Does the name Charles or Charlie mean anything to you?” She leaned forward and placed her folded arms on the desktop.
“That’s my grandfather’s given name, Charles.”
“Well, he is here with us today and is anxious to communicate with you. He wants you to know that he’s proud of you and everything you’ve done. He also wants you to know that he’s okay where he is. He says nothing hurts anymore.”
“I don’t know what this means, but he says to watch out for shysters. He’s showing me a key. Does that mean anything to you?”
Spit dried in Colt’s mouth, and he nodded. “My grandfather always told me that keys could unlock the answers to every secret in the universe. He collected them. I still have his collection.”
“I think that’s his way of letting you know this is real, that he’s really here. Or perhaps the answer to your dilemma can be found behind a lock.”
Tears threatened, and Colt unconsciously leaned forward. “I want to hear everything he has to say.”
“A lot of what I get shows up in symbols, and it’s up to you to interpret them. He is showing me a black tomcat. That could mean a lot of things to different people.”
“A man by the name of Tompkins paid me a visit. That’s what prompted me to come see you. Could that be what he’s showing you?”
“Could be.” She closed her eyes. “I’m also seeing a deck of playing cards, but they’re strewn around on the floor, and the black cat is walking across them.”
Colt sucked in a breath between his teeth. He whispered, “Anything else?”
“I’m seeing lots of horses running, some with saddles, some without. I get the feeling he’s possibly showing me memories.”
“He was a world champion bull rider. But he had a special love for horses. So, yes, that could be a memory. His deep love for horses is why I turned my ranch into a horse sanctuary.”
Sage nodded. “That makes sense with what I’m seeing. He’s very happy with what you’ve done.” She stared hard at him. “There’s something about you that I’m sensing, or maybe it’s what he’s showing to me. You have some sort of unique ability when it comes to animals.”
Colt blew out an audible breath. “I remember the first time I really understood that I can communicate with animals. Not in words, but on invisible wavelengths or thoughts, if that makes sense.”
“Perfect sense.” Sage smiled. “I’m also feeling a strong female presence that is wanting to get in today with a message for you. Is your mother in the spirit world?”
He choked. “Yes. She died when I was twelve.”
“Well, she wants to say hello and let you know she watches over you as much as she is allowed from beyond the veil…”
I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever consulted a medium for communication with a loved one who has passed on? Do you believe some people have a true gift? Let’s talk!
Colt Layne owns the Layne Horse Sanctuary. He lives an idyllic life between caring for the animals and playing music with his band. That is until a stranger appears with unreasonable demands. When someone murders the man, Colt is arrested. He’s been framed, but by whom and why?
He needs to talk with his deceased grandfather. But that’s impossible. Or is it?
Sage Coventry is gifted with the ability to communicate with the deceased. Skeptical but desperate, when Colt consults with her, he gets more than messages from beyond the grave as she breezes into his heart with sweet patchouli fragrance and tempting lips he longs to kiss.
The race against time to clear his name and save the ranch launches them on a mission that brings shocking revelations.
Let’s go on a scavenger hunt! Hidden within the blog posts are clues you will need to look for.
The theme is “Things You’d Find On A Ranch.”
When you find these clues, email your answers to me at
When Kellan Ayrwick returns home for his father’s retirement from Braxton College, he finds a dead body in Diamond Hall’s stairwell.
Unfortunately, Kellan has a connection to the victim, and so do several members of his family. Could one of them be guilty of murder? Soon after, the college’s athletic program receives mysterious donations, a nasty blog denounces his father and someone attempts to change students’ grades.
Someone is playing games on campus, but none of the facts add up. With the help of his eccentric and trouble-making nana, Kellan tries to stay out of the sheriff’s way. And if that wasn’t enough already, his own past comes spiraling back to change his life forever.
In the debut novel in the Braxton Campus Mysteries Series, you’ll discover a cozy, secluded Pennsylvania village full of quirky, sarcastic and nosy residents.
I have to be honest – I haven’t read many cozy mysteries, but a small town college setting, the adorable cover, and great reviews drew me to this book.
I immediately liked Kellan. He’s a fairly recent widower with an adorable young daughter who’s trying to do the single dad thing, while also keeping the peace with his in-laws. When he travels to his hometown for his father’s retirement party, it’s clear there’s also friction in his own family. The reader doesn’t have to wait long for the action to begin. A body is discovered at the party and what looks to be an accident is soon revealed to be a murder. In several mysteries I’ve read, it’s pretty obvious who the murderer is early in the story, but that’s not the case in this novel. Several characters have a motive (even some within Kellan’s family), and I was kept guessing until almost the end.
While investigating on his own (and finding himself in some interesting situations), Kellan reconnects with some old friends and a girlfriend. Learning his backstory gave me more insight to his character, and I liked him even more. He also ponders making some life changes in the best interests of his family. Speaking of his family, shout-out to Nana D, who gave me several laugh out loud moments. She’s a feisty, intelligent lady who speaks her mind – and also makes repeated attempts to fix up her grandson with questionable choices in women.
I’m so glad I picked up this cozy mystery – the author has a new fan of the series. I have to comment on that cliffhanger at the end – it was a doozy and completely out of left field. And I absolutely need to know what happens next!
Happy Halloween! Here we are at the last day of Bad Moon Rising. I don’t know about you, but this month passed in the blink of an eye for me. A variety of books have been featured ranging from children’s books for the little guys up through adults. They’ve hit plenty of targets on the horror/thriller/supernatural spectrum from “What was that creak?” to “Think I’ll sleep with the light on tonight”, up to “I’m locking this book in a trunk and dropping it in the lake where nothing can escape.”
Today’s featured book is on the lighter end of the spectrum for readers who prefer their horror to be kinder and gentler. His book features a haunted house and judging by the three items he’d take to spend the night in one, he’s adequately prepared. Welcome James J. Cudney!
Would you rather sleep in a coffin for one night or spend the night in a haunted house?
This is a tough choice! I’d be okay with either one, honestly… but I’ll choose the haunted house. I love to be scared, and the opportunity to sleep in one, maybe for a million dollars upon survival, seems really cool. Wait… that’s a movie plot that didn’t go very well for some of the guests. I’m sure I would make it through the night; I tend to be lucky, and I’d be the one trying to solve the mystery. But if I did choose the coffin, I would sleep well as long as it was dark and I could breathe easily. I tend to toss and turn a bit, so that might be uncomfortable if it were too small.
Name three items you’d take to spend the night in a haunted house.
Handcuffs to lock up the creep who was haunting it, since the likelihood is that it was not a ghost but a real human being. A heavy, thick bottle of whiskey to be sure I could drink some (for fun and energy) and knock anyone bothering me over the head with it. A camera to record exactly what is going on the whole night. It might also serve as footage for a future movie or to remember what happened when I write the details into a future book. I’m sure my cell phone would die, so that would be useless to bring… and guns and knives could easily be used against me, hence why those weren’t options. I’m trying to think ahead!!! Shall we partner up and protect each other, Teri?
Would you rather use a Ouija board or participate in a séance?
Definitely participate in a séance. I have used a Ouija board and it really comes down to who you are playing the game with. If someone won’t truly focus, it’s kinda boring and not helpful. But in a séance, if it’s done properly (fake or real), you could really have quite an amazing time. In reality, I would love to connect with spirits just to ask a bunch of questions and learn about the past. Not mean ones though… they can leave me alone!
Do you write to music?
No! I need completely silence. I think music influences the words or emotions I would place into the book. Sometimes this is good. I suppose I could listen to sad songs when writing a tearful scene or haunting music when writing a thriller scene… but ultimately, I’d get caught up in the music and not be able to focus. I usually hide in a room where no one can find me for a few hours; then I get a lot done!
What was the hardest part of writing your author bio?
I don’t like to talk about myself, and there is not a whole lot intriguing about me. I broke it up into chunks to talk about different aspects of my life, but it feels boring… if I read it on a site, I’d scroll through to the next page. Ultimately, I personally choose my reads by the description of the story and not the author. I don’t care much if he or she is famous or indie, boring or exciting… so I think that’s why I skim over my own bio. It’s the same thing for LinkedIn or my resume; I have accomplished tons but I can’t possibly think about how to present it in any way that makes clear sense. I just know which job I’ll like and hate having to fix my resume to work for it!
What are you working on now?
I am editing my next book, Weathering Old Souls, a co-written novel with Didi Oviatt. It is a contemporary fiction novel that delves deep into one and half centuries of history. Here’s a brief description:
Abigail has always struggled with strange voices appearing inside her head. From the relentless tyranny a woman faces on an antebellum plantation to the unknown prison camps in America during World War II, our heroine discovers the past in a way that forever changes her future. There are moments from previous periods that serve as guiding posts for the country’s growth, but they also mark the transitions for Abigail’s own personal history. Her best friend, Margaret, partners with Abigail to discover the identity of these voices while focusing on her passion and quest to become a United States senator. Through it all, a serial killer torments the country, romance blossoms between some of the people they meet during the journey, and secrets long thought buried come to light in devastating ways. With the twisting of elements, numerical alignments, and the trauma of spiritual entanglements, no one will be the same… and just a few might not even be around anymore.
We’re hoping to negotiate a deal with a publisher by the end of 2020, and it will publish in 2021. I’ve also begun writing the seventh Braxton novel, and I’ll be revealing the title in the next few days! It will also publish in early 2021, assuming I can stop listening to music this month and finish writing the book by my 11/30 deadline!
Haunted House Ghost is the 5th of 6 published books in the Braxton Campus Mysteries. In this book, it’s Halloween, and excitement is brewing in Braxton to carve jack-o’-lanterns, go on haunted hayrides, and race through the spooky corn maze at the Fall Festival. Despite the former occupant’s warnings, Kellan renovates and moves into a mysterious old house. When a ruthless ghost promises retribution, our fearless professor turns to the eccentric town historian and an eerie psychic to communicate with the apparition. Meanwhile, construction workers discover a fifty-year-old skeleton after breaking ground on the new Memorial Library wing. While Kellan and April dance around the chemistry sparking between them, a suspicious accident occurs at the Fall Festival. Soon, Kellan discovers the true history and dastardly connections of the Grey family. But can he capture the elusive killer – and placate the revenge-seeking ghost.
Haunted House Ghost – Excerpt
My mother scooped a heap of aromatic fruit salad into one of Nana D’s cherished Halloween-patterned dishes—orange-glazed china with floating white ghouls—then passed the serving bowl to me. “I didn’t scope out your new place this morning, Kellan. Are you leaving those ghoulish turrets in place? If it were my house, I’d focus on fixing that exterior, so it doesn’t resemble a scary monstrosity.”
“I suppose,” I replied wryly, ignoring her accidental insult. Should I mention the weird, unnerving incidents the contractors had witnessed? I’d given little credence to their jokes about tools moving around while no one was home, but after my latest disturbing dream and the supernatural presence this morning, I second-guessed my decision. “Nicky Endicott offered me a good deal on the price of the reno, and he’s been handling most of the work. They even hired extra guys this week to complete the initial phase on schedule.”
“Are you still worried it’s haunted by ghosts?” Nana D drizzled syrup on her voluminous stack of fluffy pancakes—I suddenly recalled that everything was pumpkin-flavored for her in October—and ravenously swallowed a forkful. Between her tiny button nose and the lengthy, henna-rinsed braid she’d soon trip over, Nana D was an undeniably humorous vision. When she put on her tailored green twill suit, I’d call her my lucky charm. It usually resulted in a painful pinch on the underside of my arm, but the utter shock and frustration on her face was worth the temporary discomfort.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Emma stated with the assurance of a much wiser girl. When raspberry jelly unexpectedly dripped to her chin, she snorted. “It’s just magic fairies.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Nicky separately chatted with the new workers this week. The crew claims someone in a white lace gown was floating on the second floor when they arrived to begin construction.” I’d thought at the time they must’ve drunk too much the night before, but after my own frightening and hair-raising experience, a cavernous dollop of fear stirred inexorably.
“What else happened? Maybe Eleanor can solve this hocus pocus nonsense.” My mother, already stuffed from a nonfat yogurt parfait and the miniscule morsel of pie filling she’d snuck earlier, aimlessly pushed fruit around her plate. No pancakes for her, mostly since her vanity echoed that of the queen from Snow White. Despite being ten years younger than my father and looking at least ten years younger than her true age, she constantly fretted about her weight and fading youth.
“Tools moved when no one was in the room. A minor overnight flood when Nicky supposedly turned off the water. Scratching noises inside the walls.” I swallowed the remaining food on my plate and pushed back my chair with a flourish. I wanted to unhook my belt to gain some breathing room but refused to admit defeat. I’d increase my upcoming workouts to counter the impulsive overeating. The stress of construction delays was wearing me down. “Eleanor threw angelica root around the house and volunteered to sing a freakish chant about poltergeists. She claims it’ll protect me against evil spirits.”
“I’m confident your prankster is the ghost of Prudence Grey. We’re approaching the fiftieth anniversary of her disappearance. She lived there with Hiram and is probably rolling in her grave, seething that he sold it.” Nana D unexpectedly shivered with excitement, then directed Emma to check on Baxter. “Little ears shouldn’t hear what I’m about to tell you.”
“Don’t even think about embellishing the story, Mom. We’ve heard you complain interminably about Hiram Grey’s past.” My mother was adamant about controlling Nana D’s gossipy nature. Though often careful with her words, someday, loose lips would bite Nana D in the you-know-where.
“Pish! Last time, I only told Kellan that Prudence disappeared. The truth would’ve scared him from buying the house, despite Ulan’s imminent arrival in Pennsylvania.” Nana D smiled sanctimoniously as she shared the troubled history of the infamous Greys.
Prudence was Hiram’s first wife. Hiram, four years older, had just finished his senior year at Braxton College and enrolled in law school, obsessed with becoming a judge. Although Prudence had once been a stunning ingénue, she entered a rough period after giving birth to their son, Damien, and surviving independently while Hiram focused on his studies. Her parents had also died in a tragic accident, leaving her an emotional wreck. No one realized she’d suffered from postpartum depression.
“On Halloween in 1968, a gigantic organized protest against the Vietnam War erupted on campus. Everyone, professors and students alike, participated. Some were for it, others against it. It was a difficult time,” Nana D explained while scraping our plates into the trash compactor. “Hiram insists he’d left Prudence at home with Damien because he had to attend a vital class, but the professor recorded him as absent that day. When a bunch of students turned violent, the protest escalated, and the college library caught fire.”
Construction of a new wing on the building had been in process. Workers had finished early and already left the site. The protest was most volatile directly outside the oldest part of the library, but the Chief of the Fire Department was never sure how the blaze had started. Multiple people had witnessed Prudence enter the library during the demonstration, yet they never saw her exit.
“Your father was there, Kellan. He was only a teenager but remembers all the commotion. It was awful, and although no one actually died,” my mother began, casting a warning glance at Nana D, “it caused widespread damage and delayed the library’s renovation plans. By the time everything sorted itself out, the temperature had grown too frigid to break ground again.”
“What does this have to do with Prudence Grey haunting my new house?” I sighed, unable to decipher the connection between the two events. Time to further reel in the busybody yentas.
“Patience, brilliant one. I’m getting there,” Nana D rebuked, waggling a finger in my direction. “Prudence vanished. Hiram never spoke with her after he’d left the house that morning. The last place he saw his wife was allegedly carting a box into your basement. She loved that home so much… at least she’s not stuck haunting someone else.” Nana D wearily glanced downward, fanning herself.
“It’s possible that Prudence got trapped in the library and died in the fire. The winds were gusty that day and made the whole tragedy hard to contain. The firemen checked as soon as the opportunity presented itself but never found a body. All hearsay, since I was hardly out of diapers,” my mother added with a wink, eyeing the second round of fragrant pumpkin pies Nana D retrieved from the oven.
“Hiram claims Prudence suffered from a severe depression that prevented her from being a proper mother to Damien.” Nana D grew lost in the heartbreaking tale, eyes deep with remorse and regret. “I didn’t know her well, but Prudence was an innocent young lady before she’d married that fool and suffered his folly. Men suck. Don’t they, Violet, dear?”
“I’m not sure I understand. What precisely are you suggesting happened to Prudence? Is she buried under the library and moonlighting as a vengeful spirit in my new digs?”
“That’s the fifty-year-old mystery. Hiram moved out the next day and into the Grey estate with his family. No one’s ever heard from Prudence since then, and everyone who’s dared to live there flees within a week after complaining about peculiar noises and unexplained apparitions.”
“Didn’t you think to tell me that part before I bought the place?” I shot an emphatic gander of frustration and shock at my nana for her borderline treachery. Exhaustion had made me irritable.
Upon finishing her coffee, my mother placed the cup and saucer in the sink. “I don’t believe in all that hooey phooey. Hiram waited the necessary time to declare her legally dead, then he remarried. For all intents and purposes, Prudence is long gone. You shouldn’t worry.”
“But you think she’s haunting me because I bought her house?” I growled at Nana D.
“I assume Hiram got away with killing her. Prudence’s spirit must be restless, stuck inside the last place she lived before dying so dreadfully. I doubt she’ll hurt you,” Nana D suggested impishly while patting my hand. “Just be considerate of sharing her space, and I’m sure it’ll turn out fine.”
My mother tut-tutted. “Hiram can be ruthless, but no one suspects the judge of murder.”
Were they for real? At the very least, I deserved to know this tidbit of history before Nana D had convinced me to buy the place. My mind theorized outlandish scenarios about what could’ve happened to Prudence Grey. I’d been known to investigate suspicious deaths ever since moving home to Braxton earlier that year, but I had zero time to explore a fifty-year-old cold case.
“How’d the Fall Festival meeting go?” Nana D interrupted, her brow wrinkled and mouth hanging slightly open, ardently waiting for a response.
“Belinda Grey was obstinate and ferocious. I think you underestimated how angry she’d be when you declared us the head of the planning committee.” My mother ruffled through her gargantuan purse for the car keys. Did she hide an entire cornucopia of useless clutter in there?
“Belinda was derogatory all morning long.” I recalled how Hiram Grey’s second wife had also refused to congratulate us on securing Madam Zenya as the upcoming spectacular’s resident psychic.
“Hiram and Belinda Grey were perfect for each other. I could tell you stories about that churlish woman. Too bad that cantankerous old judge feels the need to find a new spouse every few years. Five sons with six wives makes him a menace to society.” Nana D reminded us that our local magistrate was a modern-day Henry VIII, only instead of beheading his wives, he compelled them to disappear. “Some were probably murdered like Prudence. He tortured the others until each caved in to escape his tyranny.” She chuckled aloud, then lifted her old-fashioned, canary-yellow phone from the wall.
“He just divorced number six last year, right?” my mother nonchalantly questioned.
Nana D counted the judge’s wives by using the fingers on one hand, running out of digits after the fifth. “Yup. They seem to get younger each time. Now, skedaddle. I’ve got calls to make.”
Once my mother left, Emma, Baxter, and I visited our new house. Although it was the weekend, Nicky had paid his team overtime to tile the bathroom and install the kitchen plumbing. I parked the car and suggested Emma lead Baxter into the enclosed side yard to play fetch. A bulky, hairy spider had woven a fresh maze of silky webs across the front porch, swaying in the gentle breeze from my hasty approach. It cautiously sat in the center and bundled its most recent prey in a sticky clump of white threads, staring and mocking me to swat it, if I dared. As soon as I ducked and strode through the door, Nicky anxiously approached me with his grease-stained palm glued to his forehead.
“Kellan, I’ve called for hours. Didn’t you get my messages?” Exasperation clung to the young contractor’s words. His awkward body language denoted something disastrous had occurred.
Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I realized I had accidentally turned it off. “No, I’m sorry. What’s going on? Is there an issue with construction?”
Nicky repeatedly shook his head and pursed his tense, thin lips. “No, you better see this for yourself. Follow me.” While dragging me through the main hallway toward the basement entrance, my impassioned contractor agitatedly explained how he and his crew had shown up at ten o’clock. “We let ourselves in using the only key to the front door. Look at what awaited us.”
My heart immediately raced like a bustling train as I absorbed the pungent scent of shock hovering stiffly in the room. In the same red paint I’d rolled on the walls in Ulan’s bedroom, someone had written a scraggly message on the locked basement door. It read:
James is my given name, but most folks call me Jay. I live in New York City, grew up on Long Island, and graduated from Moravian College, an historic but small liberal arts school in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, with a degree in English literature and minors in Education, Business and Spanish. After college, I accepted a technical writing position for a telecommunications company during Y2K and spent the last ~20 years building a career in technology & business operations in the retail, sports, media, hospitality, and entertainment industries. Throughout those years, I wrote short stories, poems, and various beginnings to the “Great American Novel,” but I was so focused on my career that writing became a hobby. In 2016, I committed to focusing my energies toward reinvigorating a second career in reading, writing, and publishing.
Writing has been a part of my life as much as my heart, mind, and body. At some points, it was just a few poems or short stories; at others, it was full length novels and stories. My current focus is family drama fiction, cozy mystery novels, and suspense thrillers. I conjure characters and plots that I feel must be unwound. I think of situations people find themselves in and feel compelled to tell the story. It’s usually a convoluted plot with many surprise twists and turns. I feel it necessary to take that ride all over the course. My character is easily pictured in my head. I know what he is going to encounter or what she will feel. But I need to use the right words to make it clear.
Reader & Reviewer
Reading has also never left my side. Whether it was children’s books, young adult novels, college textbooks, biographies, or my ultimate love, fiction, it’s ever present in my day. I read two books per week and I’m on a quest to update every book I’ve ever read on Goodreads, write up a review, and post it on all my sites and platforms.
Blogger & Thinker
I have combined my passions into a single platform where I share reviews, write a blog and publish tons of content: TRUTH. I started my 365 Daily Challenge, where I post about a word that has some meaning to me and converse with everyone about life. There is humor, tears, love, friendship, advice, and bloopers. Lots of bloopers where I poke fun at myself all the time. Even my dogs have had weekly segments called “Ryder’s Rants” or “Baxter’s Barks,” where they complain about me. All these things make up who I am; none of them are very fancy or magnanimous, but they are real. And that’s why they are me.
Genealogist & Researcher
I love history and research, finding myself often reaching back into the past to understand why someone made the choice he or she did and what were the subsequent consequences. I enjoy studying the activities and culture from hundreds of years ago to trace the roots and find the puzzle of my own history. I wish I could watch my ancestors from a secret place to learn how they interacted with others; and maybe I’ll comprehend why I do things the way I do.
My Genres, Formats & Languages
I write in the family drama, suspense, and mystery genres. My first two books were Watching Glass Shatter (2017) and Father Figure (2018). Both are contemporary fiction and focus on the dynamics between parents and children and between siblings. I wrote a sequel, Hiding Cracked Glass, for my debut novel, and they are known as the Perceptions of Glass series. I also have a light mystery series called the Braxton Campus Mysteries with six books available. All my books come in multiple formats (Kindle, paperback, hardcover, large print paperback, pocket size paperback, and audiobook) and some are also translated into foreign languages such as Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and German.
Long ago I developed a writing exercise. I would ask friends to give me three completely random things. Then I would write until I had mentioned all the things. I brought that exercise to my blog, but I had the readers send me their things. I let the random things drive every detail of a serial story, setting, plot, and characters. That resulted in The Three Things Serial Story, which gave birth to this culinary mystery. However, this time the “things” are food related — or ingredients.
As with the first serial, Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I is a spontaneously written, pantser story. I let the “ingredients” readers sent each week drive every aspect of a new serial story. This is the “bookized” version of that serial.
This time the Jazz Age setting is Savannah, Georgia where our flapper, Pip is “sentenced” to live with her grandmother and learn to cook. Pip gets caught up in a layered mystery that includes bootleggers, G-men, and the varied challenges of being a young woman in changing times. She meets new friends including some animal characters.
If you have not read The Three Things Serial Story, be warned. This adventure contains a bit of a spoiler, but does not go into detail about it.
Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
If you’re a frequent visitor to Teagan’s blog, you’re undoubtedly familiar with Paisley Idelle Peabody, better known as Pip, and her determination to be a level-headed modern woman. A flapper. Pip leads quite an adventurous life, and in this book stumbles upon a murder. The supporting characters are colorful and entertaining, and Granny Phanny is a force to be reckoned with.
I’m fascinated by the author’s ability to take three randomly suggested items by fans and build a story around them. As my son would say, “What sort of black magic is this?” What a talent she possesses.
I curled up with this book on a cold day peppered with snow flurries, hot chocolate on the table beside me – a perfect read for that kind of day. Fun, amusing, unique – you can’t go wrong with this book.
This week seemed to fly by – but here we are again at Indie Author Friday with Connie Chappell! Connie is my kind of people – Harry Potter fan, loves chocolate chip cookies, and I’d totally re-watch The Crown. Read on for the wonderful compliment she received from a reader.
Beebe Walker returns to Larkspur, Michigan, to reveal to her estranged father the truth about the homeless woman recently buried in his cemetery. Her father doesn’t want to hear the truth when the woman in the grave he’s been tending for months turns out to be his long-missing wife.
Callie MacCallum was Jack Sebring’s lover for twenty years. After his death, she’s drawn into a Sebring family battle between wife and daughter-in-law.
Deadly Homecoming at Rosemont
A budding historian must solve a locked-room murder to vindicate the town’s former police chief who is suspected of the crime. While her instincts are sharp, her stubborn one-woman approach places her directly in the killer’s path.
What’s the most constructive criticism you’ve been given in your writing career?
Of course, the most constructive criticism can also be termed outstanding advice. I sat one-on-one with bestselling author Larry Beinhart (Wag the Dog) for an hour discussing my manuscript, Deadly Homecoming at Rosemont, A Wrenn GraysonMystery. He told me to write in a straight line. The timeline within my narrative summaries moved around, making it difficult to follow. Whenever I find myself struggling with a section of a novel, I take a look at the timeline. Often all that is needed is to drag Larry’s advice out again, straightened out the timeline, and then watch the section drop neatly into place.
What is something memorable you heard from your readers/fans?
A woman bought my first release, Wild Raspberries, at a book signing. I saw her the next week. She rushed by me, obviously in a hurry or late for an appointment, but on the way past she said, “I loved the book. It made me late for work twice last week.”
What character in your book are you least likely to get along with?
My novel, Proper Goodbye, includes a character named Mona Gabriel. She has position as a doctor’s wife, but she’s a gossiper, troublemaker, and always wants to push herself in if doing so associates her with success of an undertaking. It’s hard to image she walks around accident free, what with her nose up in the air the way it is.
What is the last thing you watched on Netflix?
I watched the series, The Crown. It was fabulous. So much so, I turned right around and watched it again. Very well done. It exposed the private lives of the royal family, along with a great deal of history. A young Queen Elizabeth II faced many decisions to weigh and struggle with. The order of succession and the passing on of the crown was particularly fascinating to understand from the royal family’s point of view.
If you were a character in fiction, who would you be?
I would want to be any character in the Harry Potter series if it meant I got to see the castle, Hogwarts, and the grounds surrounding the castle. I love castles and large old stone structures. They are amazing feats of construction for their time.
What is your favorite kind of cookie and why?
My favorite kind of cookie is chocolate chip, right out of the oven. Warm. Melt in your mouth chocolate. Yum! I consider chocolate one of the four basic food groups.
Connie Chappell is the author of three novels. Wild Raspberries and Proper Goodbye are companion novels. They are written around unique and stunning premises. Her Wrenn Grayson Mysteries series was launched in 2016 with Deadly Homecoming at Rosemont. The construction of a mystery holds her values as a writer to the centerline. It is her job to keep the reader focused, on track, and riveted to solving the mystery. The series’ second installment, Designs on Ivy’s Locket, is set for an October, 2017, release by publisher, Black Rose Writing.
It’s the oldest bookshop in a town full of bookshops; rambling and disordered, full of treasures if you look hard. Jude found one of the treasures when she visited last summer, the high point of a miserable vacation. Now, in the depths of winter, when she has to run away, Lowell’s chaotic bookshop in that backwater of a town is the safe place she runs to.
Jude needs a bolt-hole; Lowell needs an assistant and, when an affordable rental is thrown in too, life begins to look up. The gravedigger’s cottage isn’t perfect for a woman alone but at least she has quiet neighbors.
Quiet, but not silent. The long dead and the books they left behind both have tales to tell and the dusty rooms of the bookshop are not the haven they seem to be. Lowell’s past and Jude’s present are a dangerous cocktail of secrets and lies and someone is coming to light the taper that could destroy everything. – Goodreads.com
As a book lover, the idea of starting over somewhere and working in an overcrowded bookstore in a picturesque little town, surrounded by towers of books, appealed to me immediately, though I’d probably be fired on the first day because all I’d want to do is read.
The reader knows Jude is running from something, but the reason isn’t revealed until about halfway through the book. I honestly didn’t care for her at first, as she seemed very self-absorbed and selfish, but warmed up to her after a bit. Lowell is amusing, charming, and a perfect gentleman. The author did a wonderful job at demonstrating the good and bad of eccentric, small towns – neighbors care for each other, but everyone knows everyone else’s business.
While I’m glad I stuck around for the unexpected twists and satisfying ending, the pacing of this novel nearly drove me to abandon it. Yes, Jude has a mysterious background, but a large portion of the first half of the book is more focused on her living arrangements and the extremely detailed organization of the bookstore, aspects that didn’t really advance the plot in any way, and the slow trickle of information left me frustrated more than anything. I generally prefer a faster pace in my reading, so that may not be an issue for other readers.
If you’re a fan of more leisurely paced, cozy mysteries with a surprising turn of events, this is your book. Quiet Neighbors is scheduled for publication April 6th, 2016.
This review is based on a digital ARC from the publisher through NetGalley.