Preparing for Love Is Murder – Part 1

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In a few weeks I’ll be attending Love is Murder for the third time. The author, reader, and book conference may not begin until February 6th but I’m already preparing mentally and organizing my “stuff.”

First of all I paid my registration fees and booked the hotel room months ago. Not that I’m that organized, but more that I was afraid if I waited, I’d back out of going. Believe me attending a conference in Chicago in the dead of winter takes real determination. That decision is best made in the fall when the weather is nice and you can talk yourself into the possibility that Chicago might, just might, have an unusually early spring.

Last month I made my decision on whether to fly or drive. I’m driving. Yes, flying is quicker – by a day – but more stressful. I flew to Chicago the first time I went to the conference. The conference was wonderful but the travel to and from was a nightmare.

The Tulsa airport is about 90 minutes from my home during normal weather. The worst winter weather in Oklahoma typically happens in late January and early February. The weather guys were predicting an incoming storm the night before I was to fly out. So to play it safe, I drove to my parents’ home (about 30 minutes from the airport) and spent the night there – just to be sure I could get to my early morning flight on time. The first sign of trouble was when my Dad knocked on the guest room door wanting to know where my spare car keys were. Huh? Good soul that he is, he had gotten up earlier than me, fetched my keys from my purse, started my car and scraped about 3 inches of ice off my windshield. He’d had the car defroster going full blast and was standing outside the car chipping ice, when the automatic door locks kicked in. My spare set of keys were at my home along with all my knives, weapons, extra makeup and the hundred and one other things I’d dumped from my purse to facilitate my chances of clearing airport security without a pat-down.

I didn’t have time to fetch the keys and make my flight. AAA was called and my Dad drove me and all my bags (I’d luckily taken all of them inside the night before) in his car to the airport. The roads were bad – snow on top of a thick layer of ice. As we pulled in at the curbside drop off, we got a cell phone call. My brother had driven his car into the ditch on his way to work. AAA got a second call, my Dad headed home to deal with that crisis, and I lugged my two bags, laptop, and large purse into the terminal.

For the next thirty minutes I made my way through the security lines, in my sock feet, coat over my arm, laptop out of the bag, blackberry and purse in a tray, and tried to center my thoughts on how much fun it was going to be to hold my first book for the first time.

A couple of hours later I was at O’Hare airport, both hands full pulling two rolling suitcases, my laptop bag over one shoulder and a large purse over the other. The taxis were a floor below the baggage claim area. The only way to get from the baggage claim to the taxi area was an escalator.

Have you ever stepped onto an escalator without being able to hold onto the railing? I was standing at the top, trying to find the courage to make that first step, wondering what the odds were that I was about to kill myself, when an airport worker literally grabbed one suitcase from me and yelled, “Follow me.” She went down the escalator without a backwards glance. I had no choice but to follow – she had the bag with all my promo stuff!

Next Thursday – less about the travel and more about the Conference as I countdown to February 6.

Love is Murder Con
February 6-8, 2009
Westin Chicago North Shore
601 N. Milwaukee Avenue
Wheeling, IL 60090

Evelyn David

Someone to Watch Over You

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I sat, mesmerized, last Thursday as the saga of Flight 1549 from New York to Charlotte, unfolded on the television. A few things struck me as I, and the newscasters, got new information:

1. All 155 people and 5 crew members survived, despite having been subjected to the dreaded “water landing” which you hear a lot about in the pre-flight instructions from the flight attendant yet you think you will never partake in.

2. That the plane was taken down by a Canadian goose. Up here in the New York area, we curse Canadian geese for what they do to our parks and patches of grass every spring and summer (suffice it to say it is not pretty and you never get used to it). Little did we know that just one Canadian goose could take down an Airbus.

3. The skill, calm, and heroism of the pilot, Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger. Is this guy a stud or what? He knows the plane is going to go down, he’s flying over New York City, yet he manages—despite everything—to land the plane safely in the Hudson River. One passenger called it the “softest landing” he had ever experienced. I’m sure he was exaggerating, but seriously, people. If the pilot had gone any further, he would have crashed into the George Washington Bridge or worse, gone down in the ocean. Nobody would have survived either scenario. The fact that he was able to bring a plane with an 111-foot wing span down in a river that at its widest is only a mile across (and less than that where they landed) can only be called a miracle.

The most amazing thing to me about Captain Sullenberger is that he patrolled the aisles of the plane twice to make sure everyone was off. If that guy isn’t a hero, I don’t know who is. I’d like to think that I wouldn’t head straight for the emergency doors once we were down, but if 42 degree water was starting to flood in, I’m thinking that that’s where you’d find me.

I heard a pilot who had gone through a similar situation talking about Captain Sullenberger and how this situation could have ended much differently had he not been so calm, experienced, and adept at flying the plane. This pilot, Denny Finch, said that he is now a motivational speaker and when speaking, asks the audience three questions, to which they can only raise their hand to one: 1) “Do you believe in luck?” 2) “Do you believe in fate?” and 3) “Do you believe in God or a higher power?” I thought that this was extremely interesting and wondered how the passengers aboard the flight might respond. At this point, and after watching the developments—the “miracle on the Hudson” as Governor Paterson has taken to calling it—unfold. I believe in all three and I also believe in the marvelous skills of Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger.

It’s been a tough several months in America and I, for one, was feeling a bit depressed at the billion dollar bailouts, the rising unemployment percentages, the falling Dow Jones. But mostly, I was feeling depressed for my fellow, less fortunate Americans, who are suffering. Watching the passengers get off that plane safely, the Circle Line passengers throwing them life preservers and the police boats circling and getting them to safety, made me feel good once my panic subsided and I realized that we were not experiencing another 9/11. Sully was watching out for his passengers. I hope someone is watching out for the rest of us.

Maggie Barbieri

Friday Night Lights

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Hubby and I are thrilled that Friday Night Lights is back on the air–on Friday nights, of course.

Neither of us are really football fans, but we love that TV series. We didn’t watch it when it first came on the air, but were introduced through Netflix and watched all of the first three seasons. Best way to watch a TV series by the way.

Probably the reason we’ve become such big fans is going to Friday night football games when our grandson who lived with us was playing football. He was a the quarterback sometimes and half back others. Unfortunately, the team itself wasn’t great and seldom won a game–but we sat bundled up in the stands cheering them on for every home game. (Seniors got free passes to get in which was also great.)

We knew half the cheerleading squad (several had been grandson’s girlfriend at one time or another), and many of the other spectators stopped by to visit. We also saw a lot of the student body parading by us on their way back and forth to the refreshment stand or just to be seen.

We live in the foothills and grandson either rode the bus to school and back or was picked up by a friend. During football practice, there was a sports bus that would bring kids home afterwards. Sometimes grandson would miss that bus and we’d have to drive to town to pick him up. Usually he’d go sit in the fast food place across from the high school to wait since it took us about 20 minutes to make the trip.

When I watch Friday Night Lights it reminds me of those years we had that grandson living with us. We knew so many boys who remind us of the kids we see in that show. I guess it reminds us of a fun time in our life.

Later on, our granddaughter who lives next door, played soccer all four years of high school. We hauled our chairs to the soccer field and watched those games too. So far there isn’t a TV show about a soccer coach or team.

Of course I have favorite mystery shows I enjoy though I must admit Medium and Ghost Whisperer are up there among my favorites. By the time I’ve spent most of the day in front of the computer, I admit it, by evening I’m ready for some mindless and entertaining TV viewing.

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com

Preserve, Protect and Defend

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Tomorrow, at noon, Barack Obama will take the oath of office. He will swear, on the Lincoln Bible, to “faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” While it’s not part of the official oath, undoubtedly President Obama will add, following the tradition of George Washington, “so help me God.”

I feel blessed to be witness to this moment in history. It is ironic that at a time when our country is at war on two fronts, when our economy is in dire straits, when the world is facing a global climate crisis – that I find myself more optimistic than I’ve been in a long time. I’m not crazy – or at least not more than usual. But whether you are a Democrat or Republican, a supporter of Hillary Clinton, John McCain, or Ron Paul – there is a sense that change is in the air. Even for those who disagree strongly with the new administration’s policies, there does seem to be a belief that we all must all work together because otherwise we are all doomed to failure. There is a quiet feeling that even while each of us worries about our own individual financial situation, that together “yes we can.” There is a sense of pride that young and old, rich and poor, White, Black, Latino, Native American, Asian-American – and people of every race, creed, and religion were energized in this election to take part, to be part of the solution, not just part of the problem.

I’m old enough and realistic enough to know that this honeymoon can’t last forever. That the differences that have been smoothed over or even ignored as we collectively struggle through these tough times, will undoubtedly resurface again. And perhaps that’s how it should be. But right now we need to ignore our differences while we concentrate on the problems we share.

So tomorrow, I’ll be glued to my television. I’ll hold my breath as President Obama and Vice-President Biden take their oaths of office. I might even shed a tear or two. Then I’ll grin as President and Mrs. Obama, perhaps even Malia and Sascha, walk proudly down Pennsylvania Avenue to the reviewing stands. You won’t see me in the crowds in DC, but I will be there, along with many of you, in spirit.

God Bless America.

Evelyn David

Keeping Faith

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I once watched a wonderful British mini-series, full of galloping horses, lush landscapes, and inevitably, class wars. Poor orphan girl comes to the home of her rich, foul-humored uncle, and must decide if she loves her sensitive boy cousin, his swashbuckling wastrel brother, or the stable hand who is poor but sincere. Leaving aside the issue of whether marrying your first cousin is a good idea, I, of course, was rooting for the poor stable hand. To my delight, after much bosom heaving and weeping, she ends up with the guy with no money – which is okay because she has enough for them both.

I promptly went out and read the books on which this mini-series was based – and they were absolutely wonderful. A few years later I was delighted to discover a sequel to this saga. But to my horror, the author had decided that class will out. She broke up the marriage of rich girl, poor boy, so that the society b**ch could marry within her own class – her newly-reformed rich cousin. Ugh.

As defined in the dictionary, a sequel is “a literary work, film, etc. complete in itself but continuing a story begun in an earlier work.” So while I’m the first to agree that an author has the right to do whatever she wants, for me, this particular writer betrayed the basic premise of the first books. We had a deal: true love trumps fancy schmancy class distinctions. She broke faith with her readers (or at least this one). It’s as if Margaret Mitchell wrote a sequel to Gone with the Wind and had Scarlett subdivide Tara into a housing development of McMansions. Or Thomas Harris penned a sequel where Hannibal Lecter became a vegetarian.

I love reading mystery series. It’s like meeting up with old friends. I want to know what has happened since the last time we were together. While I want a complete story that can stand on its own, I want to recognize the characters I’ve grown to love. I have no problem with personal growth in the characters, but they have to retain the essence of who they are. I promise when you read Murder Takes the Cake (due in May 2009), that the delightful Mac Sullivan, Rachel Brenner, and Whiskey are all back in prime form.

What’s the best – and the worst – sequel you’ve ever read (or saw if it was a movie)?

Evelyn David

Ouch!

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I saw the movie Gran Torino in the theatre last Sunday. The last movie I saw before that in a theatre was the recent X-Files movie. Both were good movies, but I almost walked out on both before they even got past the opening credits.

Due to a lack of time I rarely see movies when they first come out – instead settling for the convenience and economy of dvds and television. But sometimes, I just want to get lost in a dark theatre and totally focus on the movie, instead of the one hundred and one things competing for my attention at home. So a few times a year, I shell out the seven dollars for my ticket, the same amount again for a soda and popcorn, and find a “center row, half-way back” theatre seat and settle in for a couple of hours of escapism.

Maybe I’m just getting “old, old, old” (a saying I’ve picked up from my co-author), but during the last two movies, the theatre experience has been less than enjoyable. I’ve begun to have real problems with the “sound,” starting with the previews of coming attractions.

The sound is too loud.

Much too loud.

Painfully loud.

Get out of my seat, find a theatre employee, and complain loud.

Why so loud? Is it a lack of care? An equipment issue? Do the theatre employees have too many other things to do? Too many screens to monitor at the same time? Is the sound level of the previews louder than the movie track? What’s changed?

I know years ago there was someone in the film booth, running the projector and making sure that the film and sound were running smoothly. I assume that with the digital age, everything is now computerized. If so, then it seems strange that sound levels couldn’t be maintained at a reasonable decibel. Trust me, I’m not complaining about just an annoyingly loud problem. I’m trying to describe a level that would be a violation if it occurred as a result of quarry blasting; a level that is an actual physical assault on your hearing; stomach churning, knife-through-your-head loud.

Last Sunday there were many long minutes, at least ten or fifteen, before the sound was lowered. I’m guessing there must be a set number of complaints a theatre owner must get before he acts. On Sunday, head throbbing, trapped in my “center row, half-way back” seat, I offered up a silent prayer for the senior citizens who can always be counted on to make the trek from their seats to the ticket booth demanding relief or a refund.

This past week I heard an award-winning sound engineer discuss how movie fans miss a lot by not having a sound system for their expensive high-definition televisions. He asserted that the speakers that come installed on televisions are inadequate and can’t possibly give you that in-theatre experience.

I agree.

But maybe that’s not always such a bad thing.

I love movies.

But I like hearing too.

Evelyn David

p.s. – Despite everything Gran Torino was a good movie.

The Marvels of Modern Dentistry

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I was one of those fortunate children who didn’t get too many cavities. I ate as much candy as the next sugar-obsessed cretin growing up in 1970s America, but every time I went to the dentist, I got a clean bill of health. (Unlike one of my siblings, who had every tooth filled by the time he was ten; the dentist told my mother that he had a “strong gag reflex” which apparently, was extremely distasteful to the dentist. It went into said sibling’s dental “permanent record” and has followed him from dentist to dentist, even though he outgrew this in oh, about 1982.) I suffered through two fillings and that was it. Nothing else.

Until recently. I had a toothache—as well as a host of other disgusting problems with what I found out was tooth #3 that I’ll spare you the details of—and decided that with my medical history, it wasn’t a wise idea to fool around with that. What if I got an infection, it traveled to my brain and killed me? (Don’t laugh…these are the things that I think of when I wake up in the middle of the night.) Certain death from infection—and the fact that half the tooth fell out into the sink while I was brushing one morning—propelled me to see my regular dentist, Dr. G., who took an x-ray and came back into the room holding the x-ray with a grim expression on his face, despite the fact that he was smiling. He always smiles; that’s why I love Dr. G.

“Don’t say it,” I said, knowing that a two-word diagnosis starting with “root” and ending with “canal” was coming. If only that had been the end of it.

“Don’t say what?” Dr. G. asked, smiling.

“Root canal,” I whispered.

He stopped smiling. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. “Well, you do need a root canal. And a little gum surgery.” He handed me a tissue as I began to cry. “I can recommend a dentist for both procedures.” He wrote out a card with the name of the root canal guy. And as for the gum surgery, he said, “We have a few options. Dr. C, our first choice, will put you to sleep…”“Stop!” I said. “We have a winner!” And as you know if you read my pre-holiday blog, Dr. C. is now known around these parts as the “gum surgery whisperer.” Root canal wasn’t as bad as I expected either. Although I would prefer not to have another one, it wasn’t the torture that I thought it would be. Dr. W. and his assistant, Susan, were lovely. But I hope I never see them again, something that I told them upon leaving the office.

I went back to see Dr. G., my regular dentist, yesterday to get fitted for my crown (and not the tiara kind). I told him that I was amazed at how far dentistry had come since I had gotten my last filling in 1977. (This while he held an impression in my mouth with his finger…I asked him why an electronic arm hadn’t been developed so that he didn’t have to stand there for two minutes holding the impression and he explained it to me. Suffice it to say that the electronic arm wouldn’t be as good as his finger.) He explained that most people are pathologically afraid of the dentist, but these days, there’s really no need to be. Did you know that they even have stuff to numb your gums before they shoot you full of Novocaine? (It’s way better than the stuff they used in 1977, but in my opinion, still not great. I think that we should all be given general anesthetic before we get any kind of shots or needles inserted anywhere in our bodies, but maybe that’s just me.) Or that you can drink a little teaspoon of liquid and go to sleep for your gum surgery, waking up in the car on the Taconic State Parkway and asking your husband how you got there? Or that you can watch “The View” while the endodontist drills away at your tooth and removes your tooth’s roots? I remember the days when they gave you a bullet to bite on before they pulled your wisdom teeth. Things have certainly changed.

Go to the dentist, people. I know there are many of you out there putting it off. And yes, I used to be one of them. Had I gone when tooth #3 initially started to give me trouble, I probably would have only needed a replacement filling. But I let it go and I’m a little lighter in the pocketbook and have undergone procedures that I could have only imagined. I am here to tell you that the host of tortures that we endured as children are long in the past.

But the sound of a drill boring into your enamel still sounds–and smells–the same.

Maggie

Starting a New Book

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My plan was to pretty much have my next Rocky Bluff P.D. crime novel written by the end of February before my big time in person promoting begins for the one that is coming out very, very soon. That one is called No Sanctuary. I have another one finished for 2010, but I like have two ready to go in case I can’t write for some reason or other.

Yes, I do the same thing with my Deputy Tempe Crabtree mysteries. The next one is with the publisher and I have another nearly done. Just reading it to my critique group and polishing it.

I knew where I was going with the Rocky Bluff story, did some notes on what I wanted to happen through the book, know exactly how it will end. But for some reason, I just couldn’t get started.

Finally, I wrote Chapter 1. Today I got nearly all of Chapter 2 done. Hopefully, now that I’m started I’ll continue on without too many problems.

Distractions in the form of blogs and twitters are the biggest problems. I started a blog about the Rocky Bluff P.D. and now feel like I should put up something new every day. I already do that with my own personal blog. Once the new book comes out though, I’ll probably slow that one down since I don’t want to give away too much about the story.

Now if I could only concentrate on the book I’m writing and not head off on so many tangents.

The fact that two bedrooms downstairs very close to my office are being remodeled for my new bedroom doesn’t help. Two grandsons are doing the work and they really want Grandma to come see their progress a lot.

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com

Good News, Bad News

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First, the good news.
The great flea infestation is over.

And the bad news.
Wildlife can still be heard in the walls.
There is now an encyclopedic understanding of wildlife traps including the pros and cons of glue traps versus slow-acting poison.
Two bikes have been stolen from the backyard.

On the other hand, my daughter hasn’t ridden a bike in 10 years.

Sigh.

She returned from her Glasgow adventure at the end of December. Spent the next three weeks in a frenzy of hometown reunions, shopping, and job hunting for both the semester and the summer. Finally, she headed back to campus, to ‘The Burrow,’ the nickname, borrowed from Harry Potter, of a decrepit townhouse that is now home to nine college students and an assortment of unwanted wildlife.

I think I’m getting old, old, old.

Is living in a hovel a rite of passage? Have I gotten soft in my old age?

She sees a well-lived in house. I see the Black Hole of Calcutta.

She sees an opportunity for 24/7 friends. I see a never-ending party with blaring music and no privacy.

She sees adventure. I see worry (mine, not hers).

But would I want it any other way?

Maybe a little less worry for me. But I would never want to dampen her enthusiasm, lessen her optimism, diminish her willingness to try something new or undertake a new challenge.

So I happily baked some cookies for ‘The Burrow’ residents (hopefully the two-legged ones only). Limited my lectures on safety. Reminded her to get enough sleep, eat healthy, and as always, have fun.

The house is a little too quiet now. But at least she’s only two hours away and in the same time zone. And in the meantime, the good news is that she’s healthy, happy, and growing. The bad news is that I miss her.

Evelyn David

Pets in Mysteries

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A scientist by training, a romanticist at heart, Maggie Toussaint loves to solve puzzles. Whether it’s the puzzle of a relationship or a who-dun-it, she tackles them all with equal aplomb and wonder. Maggie’s cozy mystery from Five Star, IN FOR A PENNY, is about a terrible golfer trying to save her best friend from a murder rap. Her three other published works are pet-laden romantic suspense books, one of which won Best Romantic Suspense in the 2007 National Readers Choice Awards. Her day jobs include freelancing for a weekly paper and leading a yoga class. Visit her at http://www.maggietoussaint.com/.

Readers love sassy felines and lovable pooches. In the mystery genre, pets are often instrumental in solving the crime. Whether pets hog the limelight or play the role of sidekick, their presence in a story is often sought-out by mystery fans.

Some writers employ an animal’s natural abilities, such as a cat’s curiosity or a dog’s keen sense of smell to solve the riddle of who-dun-it. These writers intuitively understand the affinity people have for animals. Readers may connect with pets on a physical and emotional level. In return, pets often display loyalty and affection for their humans despite the species language barrier. A few examples of dogs and cats in mysteries follow.

In my cozy from Five Star, IN FOR A PENNY, a grieving St. Bernard helps sleuth Cleopatra Jones run down the villain. Carola Dunn writes about a perfectly normal mutt, Nana, who finds a vital mystery-solving clue in MISTLETOE AND MURDER; Nana also finds the body in BLACK SHIP. In Glynn Marsh Alam’s upcoming March release, MOON WATER MADNESS, swamp dog Plato helps sleuth Luanne Fogarty by digging up a weapon. A four-month-old Rhodesian Ridgeback named Baraka shines in Maris Soule’s mystery, THE CROWS.

Marcia James has a Chinese Crested hairless dog named Smokey, a DEA drug-sniffing dog, who goes undercover in AT HER COMMAND. (Janes includes Chinese Cresteds in all her books; her upcoming short story in TAILS OF LOVE benefits a no-kill animal shelter.) And who can forget Asta, the playful terrier tugging Nick and Nora Charles around in THE THIN MAN series? Tom Shreck has an adventurous Muslim basset hound named Allah-King in his Duffy Dombrowski series, of which TKO is the latest release. Shrek’s series was recommended by author Barbra Annino, who has a similar pet in her series, which is in acquisitions. Phyllis Humphrey is penning a cozy in which the dog’s behavior helps her sleuth solve the mystery.

But mysteries aren’t just populated with dogs. Felines Koko and Yum Yum from Lillian Jackson Braun’s THE CAT WHO… series solve crimes in book after book. Author CP Perkins recommends the five-book Dixie Hemingway Pet Sitter Series, written by Blaize Clement, in which amateur sleuth Dixie has all manner of interactions with her pet clients.

Other authors seek to up the stakes by adding a twist to animals in mysteries. They include an enhanced level of communication that goes beyond routine pet/owner interactions. This information exchange ventures into the realm of extrasensory perception, allowing direct thought transference between sleuth and pet or animal to animal. To illustrate, I’ve included a few titles from this subgenre of books.

Piper Rome told me about an upcoming pet series by Judi McCoy. In McCoy’s books, Rudy the talking dog communicates with Ellie the NY dogwalker. Look for McCoy’s titles to release soon: HOUNDING THE PAVEMENT (March) and HEIR OF THE DOG (October); McCoy reports that her books have been optioned into a weekly television series. Angie Fox writes a paranormal mystery/romance series, the first of which is THE ACCIDENTAL DEMON SLAYER, where Pirate the talking dog is a reader favorite.

Let’s not forget the cats. Rita Mae Brown has another installation in her sleuthing cat series, THE PURRFECT MURDER, coming out this month, where felines Mrs. Murphy and Pewter share duties with Tee Tucker the Corgi. THE STORY OF EDGAR SAWTELLE by David Wroblewski, a literary thriller, mixes fact and fiction as the dog Almondine communicates with a deaf mute boy.

Other authors change it up even more. They write about pets as sleuths. In Vic diGenti’s WINDRUSHER series, the story is told entirely from a feline point of view. Author Karen McCullough reminded me to include Carole Nelson Douglas’s Midnight Louie series, where the cat is the private investigator.

Why are so many authors inspired to write pets in their books? I believe it is due to their experiences with pets. The unconditional affection of dogs and grudging respect of cats that occurs when animals and people cohabitate creates lasting feelings and memories. Pet stories speak a universal language, one that pet owners understand intuitively.

To put it another way, characters populate stories. Story characters have their own agendas, their own means, motives, and opportunities. Pets come pre-programmed with where they want to sleep, what they want to eat, when they want an adventure, etc. For writers and readers, an agenda-driven pet is pure gold.

Lists of pets in mysteries are available online. Here’s one such list that may provide more information: http://librarybooklists.org/fiction/adult/mystery.htm#mystanim

My examples of mysteries with pets are by no means exhaustive, and I apologize if I’ve omitted anyone’s favorite. Be sure and add any omissions to the comments.

A special thanks to Evelyn David and her friends at The Stiletto Gang for inviting me to be here today. Thanks for stopping by the blog!

IN FOR A PENNY, ISBN 9781594146466 (hardcover and large print) Buy it at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or ask your librarian to order it!

HOUSE OF LIES, Best Romantic Suspense, National Readers’ Choice Awards ISBN 9781601540317 buy it: Amazon, The Wild Rose Press, Kindle

NO SECOND CHANCE, buy a book, help a horse ISBN 9781601541628 buy it: Amazon, The Wild Rose Press, Kindle

SEEING RED (ebook) Buy it at Fictionwise

Maggie Toussaint
http://maggietoussaint.com/