I knew I’d be out of pocket today so I invited fellow author Kassandra Lamb to guest blog. Kassandra has departed from her amateur sleuth series to write police procedure. Further, I don’t think I’ve ever met a more helpful muse! Thanks for joining us, Kassandra~ Donnell
I am a pantser, which means I write by the seat of my pants. No outline, just a basic story idea, and I sit down and see what pours out onto the page. When I started writing Book 1 of my newest series, I didn’t even know my protagonist’s back story.
I only knew two things. One, a successful Maryland homicide detective would be snatched out of her comfort zone and dumped into a new job as Chief of Police in a small Florida city. And two, her first big case would be a serial killer.
I actually knew very little about Judith Anderson (who was a secondary character from my Kate Huntington mystery series)—other than she was a workaholic, no-nonsense cop who had a lot of integrity.
So imagine my surprise when this happened as she and one of her detectives are making a death notification to a victim’s next of kin…
Detective Jacobs rang the sister’s doorbell, then rapped knuckles against the door.
I jerked.
Two burly county cops on the porch, the afternoon sun beating down. “Is your mother home?” Me, a scrawny teenager, staring at them, my throat so tight I couldn’t talk.
I shook my head slightly, brutally shoving the memory away.
Jacobs’s back was rigid. Had he picked up that I’d had a brief flashback? More likely, he was bracing himself for the task at hand.
Wow, I was as shocked by this little flashback as my protagonist was!
But I was a psychotherapist for 20 years, specializing in trauma recovery, so I quickly realized that Judith had some demons in her psychological closet. And they were being stirred up by the insecurity of being in a new and challenging situation.
I was quite familiar with the way that flashbacks and dreams often reveal more about such demons. But what was this flashback about?
I only had a vague idea at that point. I knew in my gut that her mother was dead. But was she murdered?
The dream Judith had a few chapters later wasn’t much help…
The dead woman on the floor got up, as she sometimes did. “Are you hungry? I’ll fix you a snack.” She walked toward the fridge, and I sat at the tiny kitchen table.
My long legs barely fit under it. She called it our postage-stamp table.
A buzzing sound. Was it the microwave?
Another buzz.
I opened one eye.
Then a quick flashback in Chapter 10 told me why Judith had little to no social life back in Maryland (in the Kate books)…
More warmth in my chest, offset by anxious butterflies in my stomach.
Talk about mixed emotions.
Maybe Kate was a friend after all.
A mental flash of a dark-haired woman lying on a floor, seemingly asleep but not.
My chest constricted, the warmth gone. The anxiety prevailed. Letting people in was dangerous.
Then Judith has a lucid dream in Chapter 14 (lucid dream is psychobabble for one in which you know you’re dreaming), and I learned more about how the woman on the floor died…
It was one of those freaky dreams in which you know you’re dreaming.
The woman lay crumpled on the floor.
Here we go again, I thought in the dream.
I walked slowly toward her, trying to convince myself that she was only asleep. But why would she be sleeping on the kitchen floor?
I saw the pill bottle, empty on its side, and my heart raced.
The woman raised her head and stared at me.
Okay, that was new. She’d gotten up before and acted normal, but this penetrating stare was a new development.
Her mouth opened and a mechanical voice came out. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
It wasn’t my fault,” I said, in a quavering teenager’s voice.
“You could have saved them,” the mechanical voice said.
A phone rang.
My mother stood up and walked to the kitchen wall phone. She picked up the receiver and said, “Hello.” But the phone kept ringing.
I jerked awake. My cell phone was ringing.
When I was writing Book 1, I hadn’t really thought through whether or not Judith would have a love interest, but my muse was a step or two ahead of me (as she often is). Judith meets the sheriff of the adjoining county in Chapter 20…
A rotund man in a khaki uniform and matching Stetson stepped out of the driver’s side of the lead cruiser—a stereotypical rural sheriff with graying hair and a bushy mustache.
“This here’s county jurisdiction,” he said as he approached where I stood.
“I know that. That’s why I called your department.”
The man opened his mouth, but another voice interrupted. “I’ll take it from here, Deputy. Why don’t you join in the search?”
“Harumph.” The rotund man huffed away.
A slimmer, taller man, mid-forties—also in a khaki uniform—stepped forward, hand extended. “Sheriff Sam Pierson, ma’am. You must be Chief Anderson.” His voice was a pleasant baritone.
I shook the hand, trying to hide my surprise. I, of all people, should know better than to make assumptions based on stereotypes. “Good to meet you, Sheriff.”
“Call me Sam.” He gave my hand a slight squeeze and let it go.
I hesitated, then said, “Judith.”
He raised an eyebrow, and I figured it wouldn’t be long before he tried to call me Judy.
He looked around, slowly shaking his head. “A serial killer’s one hell of a welcome to Florida for you.”
Sam never, ever calls her Judy, and over the next 2 books, he slowly but surely worms his way at least partway past her defenses.
But then, in Book 4, Felony Murder (my most recent release), Judith keeps seeing Sam around town, talking to various women. He swears it’s a doppelganger, someone who looks like him. As this issue is coming to a head, Judith is distracted by a flashback during a phone conversation.
“Judith, are you there?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”
Should I ask him if he was in town earlier?
No, the answer came back. Too quickly.
Was that my old distrust bubbling up? Or something else?
My mind flashed to my father coming home from work, and me, as a teenager, hiding in my room and listening for the timbre of his voice. Was he jovial or pissed at the world? And if I couldn’t tell, should I go out there? What if I said something that would set him off?
Not that he’d ever gone after me.
“Judith?” Concern in Sam’s voice still, but more strident.
My insides tensed. A flash of my father’s arm high in the air, his hand fisted. My mother cowering…
I can’t deal with this right now.
“Sorry, I’m kinda distracted. I need to go.”
And toward the end of this latest book, a dream helps Judith sort out her feelings about her stepmother, her father’s second wife…
The dead woman was lying on the kitchen floor, the pill bottle beside her. She slowly rose and turned toward me. “You really should be nicer to her.”
“Sheez, Mom, not you too.” The voice was that of a peevish teen. “That’s what Dad’s always saying.”
“She’s doing the best she can.”
“But she’s the one who took Dad away from us.”
“Not you, darling.” Tears pooled in my mother’s eyes. “Only me.”
An annoying buzzing sound interrupted my thoughts.
The buzz came again, followed by a ping. I opened one eye.
I’m starting to have some fun with these dreams and flashbacks my muse keeps producing, and I’m loving how they reveal Judith’s back story and psyche…little snippets erupting from the deeper layers of her consciousness.
Now that I think about it, it makes sense that my muse would be fond of such devices, since all three—flashbacks, dreams and muses—reside in the subconscious mind.
I wonder what will pop out in the next book…
About Felony Murder:
All is not as it seems in Starling, Florida…
A phone call from a desperate teen, awaiting trial for felony murder, spurs Chief of Police Judith Anderson to re-open the case of a drug deal gone wrong. But her investigation finds more questions than answers. How did the white gang members involved end up with sweet plea deals, while the Latino kid with no record is charged with felony murder? Meanwhile, attempts on the mayor’s life and glimpses around town of her lover with various women divide Judith’s attention and trigger her old demons of distrust.
About the Author: Kassandra Lamb has never been able to decide which she loves more, psychology or writing. In her youth, she had to decide between writing and paying the bills. Partial to electricity and food, she studied psychology. Now retired from a career as a psychotherapist and college professor, she spends most of her time in an alternate universe with her characters. The magic portal to this universe (i.e., her computer) is located in Florida, where her husband and dog catch occasional glimpses of her.
She is the author of the Kate Huntington mystery series (about a psychotherapist as amateur sleuth), the Marcia Banks and Buddy cozy mysteries (about a service dog trainer and her mentor dog), and the police procedural series, The Co.P. on the Scene Mysteries, plus a guidebook for novice writers, Someday Is Here! A Beginner’s Guide to Writing and Publishing Your First Book. She also writes romantic suspense under the pen name of Jessica Dale.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
WEBSITE: https://kassandralamb.com
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/kassandralambauthor
INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/kasslamb/
PINTEREST: https://www.pinterest.com/kassandralamb/
BOOKBUB PROFILE: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kassandra-lamb
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5624939.Kassandra_Lamb
The Times They Are a’Changing
/in amateur sleuth mysteries, Author Life, Cozy Mysteries, crafting cozies, How to Write, indie publishing, Mystery, Publishing, Series, women sleuths/by Lois WinstonI don’t like change. I much prefer the security and comfort of habit. I’m not the kind of person who climbs a mountain just because it’s there. I need a reason to step out of my comfort zone, lace up my hiking boots, and ascend into the unknown. When I’m confronted with the need to change, I first spend time soul-searching and deliberating.
Unfortunately, the publishing industry has been fraught with change for quite some time now. Gone are the days when an author had a home for life, and the people she worked with at the publishing house became like a second family to her. These days there’s a lot of divorce going on in publishing. More and more authors are being dropped because their sales aren’t strong enough. Or authors decide for various reasons that they need to leave their publishers. Both situations are very scary for the author. No matter which party institutes the divorce proceedings, fear of the unknown can overwhelm an author.
Twelve years ago, I realized I needed to institute a change in my life. I didn’t want to, but after several long months of soul-searching, I knew it was time to climb the mountain. I laced up those hiking boots and walked away from two new publishing contracts—one for additional books in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series and one for a new series, the Empty Nest Mysteries.
Was I terrified? You bet! Being published by a traditional publishing house is the Holy Grail to all aspiring authors. Or it used to be. Times have changed. Self-publishing, now often referred to as indie publishing, no longer has the stigma it once did because authors are in control, not questionable vanity presses.
Rather than sign with one of the small publishers interested in continuing my series, I went indie. I continued writing the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries, adding a series of three connected mini-mysteries. I also published the Empty Nest Mysteries and several standalone mystery novellas. I reissued my backlist and published some unsold romances and romantic suspense novels.
Would I regret my decision? After all, not only had I given up the “legitimacy” of traditional publishing, but I’d also given up some decent advance money. There were nights I tossed and turned, wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by going indie, especially when I didn’t see the huge numbers of sales that other indie authors claimed to have.
Was it because I didn’t write super-sexy books with shirtless studs? Or was there some other reason? My traditionally published books had received stellar reviews, including starred reviews from Publishers Weeklyand Booklist for my mystery series. I’d also won quite a few awards for my fiction. Why weren’t my indie books selling better?
One mantra I kept repeating was something I’d heard from other authors: It’s not a sprint; it’s a marathon. It was hard to convince myself since I seemed to be limping along, not sprinting. But eventually I saw that they were right. It took some time, but since publishing my first indie book, I’ve seen steady growth in sales. Can I support myself on what I’m making? Heck, no! But then again, I couldn’t support myself on what I made from traditional publishing.
However, as time has passed, I’ve become more comfortable with my decision. There’s much to be said about having total control over your writing career. What I’ve also discovered is that readers don’t really care who publishes you. Authors might constantly ask other authors, “Who’s your publisher?” but readers are only interested in good books. They don’t know PRH from Level Best. Mention “the Big Five,” and they’ll most likely think you’re talking about a college basketball conference.
Meanwhile, Sorry, Knot Sorry, the thirteenth book in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery Series, is currently on preorder and releases June 4th. For those of you familiar with Anastasia, I hope you enjoy her latest adventure. For those of you who haven’t gotten to know her yet, I hope you will.
Sorry, Knot Sorry
An Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery, Book 13
Magazine crafts editor Anastasia Pollack may finally be able to pay off the remaining debt she found herself saddled with when her duplicitous first husband dropped dead in a Las Vegas casino. But as Anastasia has discovered, nothing in her life is ever straightforward. Strings are always attached. Thanks to the success of an unauthorized true crime podcast, a television production company wants to option her life—warts and all—as a reluctant amateur sleuth.
Is such exposure worth a clean financial slate? Anastasia isn’t sure, but at the same time, rumors are flying about layoffs at the office. Whether she wants national exposure or not, Anastasia may be forced to sign on the dotted line to keep from standing in the unemployment line. But the dead bodies keep coming, and they’re not in the script.
Craft tips included.
Buy Links (preorder now. Available June 4th)
Amazon
Kobo
Nook
Apple Books
Paperback and Hardcover editions available after June 4th.
~*~
USA Today and Amazon bestselling and award-winning author Lois Winston writes mystery, romance, romantic suspense, chick lit, women’s fiction, children’s chapter books, and nonfiction. Kirkus Reviews dubbed her critically acclaimed Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series, “North Jersey’s more mature answer to Stephanie Plum.” In addition, Lois is a former literary agent and an award-winning craft and needlework designer who often draws much of her source material for both her characters and plots from her experiences in the crafts industry. Learn more about Lois and her books at her website where can also sign up for her newsletter and find links to her other social media: www.loiswinston.com
Home, Sweet Home by Saralyn Richard
/in Uncategorized/by Saralyn RichardHome, Sweet Home
by Saralyn Richard
I live on an island, and there’s a saying around here that when you cross the causeway coming into the island, you leave all your troubles behind. The saying must be true, because everyone I know says they experience something truly spiritual whenever they drive into town. It happens to me every time—a lightening of the mood, a warming of the heart, and sometimes, a tear in the eye.
Home is more than a place. It’s an atmosphere, an attitude, a group of people whom you love and who love you back, an album full of memories.
I left my island home many years ago, but the connection remained strong. I moved back in 2005, back to the house I grew up in. Not many people are lucky enough to do this, but I was, and I’m so grateful.
Here in this house, I sat at the kitchen table with my entire nuclear family, had girlfriends spend the night, was picked up for my first and subsequent dates, brought my husband-to-be home to meet my family.
The house and I have been through celebrations and tragedies. I know its every cranny, every pebble in its concrete, every branch of its trees.
No wonder, then, that the homes in my novels are practically characters, especially the estates in the Detective Parrott mystery series, located in Brandywine Valley. Bucolia, Manderley, Sweetgrass, and Moonglow—each with its own special characteristics—serve as places, but also figure into the books’ plots. Secrets abound within their walls.
What connotations of home have you found in some of your favorite books? How did the author breathe life into the homes in those books?
Saralyn Richard writes award-winning humor- and romance-tinged mysteries that pull back the curtain on people in settings as diverse as elite country manor houses and disadvantaged urban high schools. Her works include the Detective Parrott mystery series, two standalone mysteries, a children’s book, and various short stories published in anthologies. She also edited the nonfiction book, Burn Survivors. An active member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America, Saralyn teaches creative writing and literature. Her favorite thing about being an author is interacting with readers like you. If you would like to subscribe to Saralyn’s monthly newsletter and receive information, giveaways, opportunities, surveys, freebies, and more, sign up at https://saralynrichard.com.
Mesmerized by the Met Gala
/in Paula Gail Benson/by Paula Bensonby Paula Gail Benson
Until I watched Ocean’s 8, a female heist film featuring Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchette, Anne Hathaway, Mindy Kaling, Sarah Paulson, Awkwafina, Rihanna, and Helena Bonham Carter, in 2018, I wasn’t very familiar with the Met Gala. Now, after having seen that movie numerous times, I’ve become intrigued by the event and wanted to know more about it.
Wikipedia tells us it was initially organized in 1948 by Eleanor Lambert as the Costume Institute Benefit, a fundraiser for the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute’s annual exhibit. Tickets for the first event were $50 each. According to cbsnews.com, a ticket this year cost $75,000 (up 50% from last year’s price of $50,000), with a table for ten started at $350,000.
Except for 1996, since 1995 Anna Wintour, Vogue’s editor in chief, has organized the event. Held on the first Monday in May, it showcases influencing figures from drama, sports, fashion, and other cultural pursuits, who are asked to dress conforming to a theme.
This year’s theme was “The Garden of Time,” based on a short story of that title by J.G. Ballard. In the story, two aristocrats wait in their villa as an angry mob approaches. The protagonist keeps the rebels away by picking a flower that turns back time briefly. In the end, all the flowers are gone and the villa is overtaken.
Interpretations of the theme featured many variations on floral arrangements, time, and aristocratic uniforms. Harpers Bazaar characterized the exhibit that invitees had the opportunity to view, entitled “Sleeping Beauty: Reawakening Fashion,” as spotlighting 250 historically significant designs that are “too fragile to ever be worn again.”
On the red carpet, those attending wore both regal and elegant garments (like Anna Wintour’s black embellished with colorful flowers) and structurally intricate (like Mindy Kaling’s beige, textured “Melting Flower of Time,” by Indian designer Gaurav Gupta; Demi Moore’s black column made of wallpaper and accessorized by a stunning Cartier necklace; and Tyla’s form fitting sand outfit that required she be carried up the steps and cut out).
To respect photo copyrights, please let me refer you to Vogue’s coverage of the event. Once you start looking at the designs, I think you’ll be a fan, too.
Justice in New France, 1734
/in Historical Mystery, Mystery, Uncategorized/by donalee MoultonI posed 10 questions to the book’s main character Philippe Archambeau, a court clerk assigned specifically to document the case of Marie-Joseph Angélique almost three centuries ago. His answers are below. (Hint: You can also find them in the book.)
Witnesses are a cornerstone of the French judicial system. We do this without lawyers. We do not allow lawyers to practice in New France. We are not English.
I turned to the Criminal Ordinance of 1670 and other legal documents for this question. It does not take me long to find what I am looking for. Rumor alone constitutes legal grounds for accusing, arresting, and convicting an individual.
Confrontation is part of the judicial process. It enables the accused to deny accusations directly. It gives witnesses the opportunity to rethink, perhaps to revise, their earlier testimony.
The Criminal Ordinance permits torture for serious crimes. There are reasons for this. Torture can help extract a confession. This is important to get to the truth of a matter. There is also the issue of accomplices. Torture can help to draw out names that would otherwise die on an accused’s lips.
The brodequins are very effective. Misleadingly and accurately called laced boots or tight boots, this particular form of torture involves packing a person’s legs between narrow boards tightly bound. Wooden wedges are then pounded between board and human flesh. Bone breaks. Boards do not.
French law says all accused are presumed guilty. The accused must prove their innocence.
The punishment: death, torture, or banishment. Or some combination of those. Being found guilty will mean an end to the life someone knows regardless of the punishment.
The Code Noir explicitly states how slaves are to be treated in New France. It discusses punishment and freedom of movement, or more accurately, lack of movement. The Code also requires all slaves convert to Catholicism. It is an owner’s responsibility to ensure this happens. Sooner rather than later.
Mais oui! The appeal judgment would be rendered by the Conseil Supérieur in Québec. It is the foremost judicial body in New France. Their decision will be final.
There is a prison, of course. It is attached to the courthouse – and it is where the jailer lives.
On a warm spring day in April 1734, a fire raged through the merchants’ quarter in Montréal. When the flames finally died, 46 buildings – including the Hôtel-Dieu convent and hospital – had been destroyed. Within hours, rumors ran rampant that Marie-Joseph Angélique, an enslaved Black woman fighting for her freedom, had started the fire with her white lover. Less than a day later, Angélique sat in prison, her lover nowhere to be found. Though she denied the charges, witnesses claimed Angélique was the arsonist even though no one saw her set the fire.
Philippe Archambeau, a court clerk assigned specifically to document her case, believes Angelique might just be telling the truth. Or not. A reticent servant, a boisterous jailer, and three fire-scorched shingles prove indispensable in his quest to uncover what really happened.
Angélique’s time is running out as Archambeau searches for answers. Will the determined court clerk discover what really happened the night Montreal burned to the ground before it’s too late?
How Cozy!
/in amateur sleuth mysteries, Author Life, Book Clubs, Cozy Mysteries, Mystery Series, Romantic Suspense, Uncategorized, women sleuths/by Gay YellenThe Body Next Door has just won GOLD in the 2024 American Legacy Book Awards. I am honored and happy for the recognition, the fifth one for this, my second book in the Samantha Newman Mystery Series. I’m also amazed and amused. Here’s why:
Flashback to 2014:
I’d helped someone else write a successful thriller, and just finished the first book that was all mine. I wrote it as a thriller as well: fast-moving and tense, bad guys revealed from the beginning, there’s a bomb, and good people might die.
Then I wrote a sequel, The Body Next Door. When it was released in 2016 (the recent American Legacy prize is for backlisted books), many readers and reviewers called it a Cozy. The first prize it won back then was a Chanticleer Mystery & Mayhem award, which, as I later discovered, is given for cozies like Agatha Christie classics. I was pleased, but confused.
Cozies are very popular entertainment, but when I studied the genre more than a decade ago, I encountered a slew of rabid rule-keepers that strictly defined what made a book a cozy and, especially, what must never happen in one: graphic sex, cursing, and bloody violence. Not wanting to incur the wrath of the cozy police in the form of angry reviews, I laid low.
While there’s no graphic sex in my books, the bad guys in the first book do some pretty unsavory things. Also, cozies are usually set in small towns, while my series is set in a big metropolitan area. It’s common for a cozy protagonist to own a cat or other sentient pet (Samantha has none) and to manage a small business, preferably a cozy store or restaurant. Neither element is present in my books.
And yet, to my amazement and amusement, The Body Next Door has won a Best Cozy award again. Now I’m wondering if the series should be described as Cozy.
The rules seem to have loosened in recent years. Are cozy readers more forgiving?
I’m still wary of calling the book anything except a Romantic Mystery. Full of suspense, with interesting characters and a dollop of humor, whichever way someone wants to classify my books is just fine with me, as long as they have been entertained.
Do you look for certain genres to enjoy, or are you an omivourous reader?
Please comment below!
Gay Yellen is a former magazine editor and national journalism award winner. She was the contributing book editor for Five Minutes to Midnight (Delacorte), an international thriller and New York Times Notable. Her award-winning Samantha Newman Mystery Series includes The Body Business, The Body Next Door, and The Body in the News.
Gay loves to connect with book clubs and community groups in person and online. Contact her through her website, GayYellen.com.
How My Muse Revealed Protagonist’s History with Flashbacks & Dreams
/in Guest Blogger/by Donnell Ann BellI knew I’d be out of pocket today so I invited fellow author Kassandra Lamb to guest blog. Kassandra has departed from her amateur sleuth series to write police procedure. Further, I don’t think I’ve ever met a more helpful muse! Thanks for joining us, Kassandra~ Donnell
I only knew two things. One, a successful Maryland homicide detective would be snatched out of her comfort zone and dumped into a new job as Chief of Police in a small Florida city. And two, her first big case would be a serial killer.
I actually knew very little about Judith Anderson (who was a secondary character from my Kate Huntington mystery series)—other than she was a workaholic, no-nonsense cop who had a lot of integrity.
So imagine my surprise when this happened as she and one of her detectives are making a death notification to a victim’s next of kin…
Detective Jacobs rang the sister’s doorbell, then rapped knuckles against the door.
I jerked.
Two burly county cops on the porch, the afternoon sun beating down. “Is your mother home?” Me, a scrawny teenager, staring at them, my throat so tight I couldn’t talk.
I shook my head slightly, brutally shoving the memory away.
Jacobs’s back was rigid. Had he picked up that I’d had a brief flashback? More likely, he was bracing himself for the task at hand.
Wow, I was as shocked by this little flashback as my protagonist was!
But I was a psychotherapist for 20 years, specializing in trauma recovery, so I quickly realized that Judith had some demons in her psychological closet. And they were being stirred up by the insecurity of being in a new and challenging situation.
I was quite familiar with the way that flashbacks and dreams often reveal more about such demons. But what was this flashback about?
I only had a vague idea at that point. I knew in my gut that her mother was dead. But was she murdered?
The dream Judith had a few chapters later wasn’t much help…
The dead woman on the floor got up, as she sometimes did. “Are you hungry? I’ll fix you a snack.” She walked toward the fridge, and I sat at the tiny kitchen table.
My long legs barely fit under it. She called it our postage-stamp table.
A buzzing sound. Was it the microwave?
Another buzz.
I opened one eye.
Then a quick flashback in Chapter 10 told me why Judith had little to no social life back in Maryland (in the Kate books)…
More warmth in my chest, offset by anxious butterflies in my stomach.
Talk about mixed emotions.
Maybe Kate was a friend after all.
A mental flash of a dark-haired woman lying on a floor, seemingly asleep but not.
My chest constricted, the warmth gone. The anxiety prevailed. Letting people in was dangerous.
Then Judith has a lucid dream in Chapter 14 (lucid dream is psychobabble for one in which you know you’re dreaming), and I learned more about how the woman on the floor died…
It was one of those freaky dreams in which you know you’re dreaming.
The woman lay crumpled on the floor.
Here we go again, I thought in the dream.
I walked slowly toward her, trying to convince myself that she was only asleep. But why would she be sleeping on the kitchen floor?
I saw the pill bottle, empty on its side, and my heart raced.
The woman raised her head and stared at me.
Okay, that was new. She’d gotten up before and acted normal, but this penetrating stare was a new development.
Her mouth opened and a mechanical voice came out. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
It wasn’t my fault,” I said, in a quavering teenager’s voice.
“You could have saved them,” the mechanical voice said.
A phone rang.
My mother stood up and walked to the kitchen wall phone. She picked up the receiver and said, “Hello.” But the phone kept ringing.
I jerked awake. My cell phone was ringing.
When I was writing Book 1, I hadn’t really thought through whether or not Judith would have a love interest, but my muse was a step or two ahead of me (as she often is). Judith meets the sheriff of the adjoining county in Chapter 20…
A rotund man in a khaki uniform and matching Stetson stepped out of the driver’s side of the lead cruiser—a stereotypical rural sheriff with graying hair and a bushy mustache.
“This here’s county jurisdiction,” he said as he approached where I stood.
“I know that. That’s why I called your department.”
The man opened his mouth, but another voice interrupted. “I’ll take it from here, Deputy. Why don’t you join in the search?”
“Harumph.” The rotund man huffed away.
A slimmer, taller man, mid-forties—also in a khaki uniform—stepped forward, hand extended. “Sheriff Sam Pierson, ma’am. You must be Chief Anderson.” His voice was a pleasant baritone.
I shook the hand, trying to hide my surprise. I, of all people, should know better than to make assumptions based on stereotypes. “Good to meet you, Sheriff.”
“Call me Sam.” He gave my hand a slight squeeze and let it go.
I hesitated, then said, “Judith.”
He raised an eyebrow, and I figured it wouldn’t be long before he tried to call me Judy.
He looked around, slowly shaking his head. “A serial killer’s one hell of a welcome to Florida for you.”
Sam never, ever calls her Judy, and over the next 2 books, he slowly but surely worms his way at least partway past her defenses.
But then, in Book 4, Felony Murder (my most recent release), Judith keeps seeing Sam around town, talking to various women. He swears it’s a doppelganger, someone who looks like him. As this issue is coming to a head, Judith is distracted by a flashback during a phone conversation.
“Judith, are you there?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”
Should I ask him if he was in town earlier?
No, the answer came back. Too quickly.
Was that my old distrust bubbling up? Or something else?
My mind flashed to my father coming home from work, and me, as a teenager, hiding in my room and listening for the timbre of his voice. Was he jovial or pissed at the world? And if I couldn’t tell, should I go out there? What if I said something that would set him off?
Not that he’d ever gone after me.
“Judith?” Concern in Sam’s voice still, but more strident.
My insides tensed. A flash of my father’s arm high in the air, his hand fisted. My mother cowering…
I can’t deal with this right now.
“Sorry, I’m kinda distracted. I need to go.”
And toward the end of this latest book, a dream helps Judith sort out her feelings about her stepmother, her father’s second wife…
The dead woman was lying on the kitchen floor, the pill bottle beside her. She slowly rose and turned toward me. “You really should be nicer to her.”
“Sheez, Mom, not you too.” The voice was that of a peevish teen. “That’s what Dad’s always saying.”
“She’s doing the best she can.”
“But she’s the one who took Dad away from us.”
“Not you, darling.” Tears pooled in my mother’s eyes. “Only me.”
An annoying buzzing sound interrupted my thoughts.
The buzz came again, followed by a ping. I opened one eye.
I’m starting to have some fun with these dreams and flashbacks my muse keeps producing, and I’m loving how they reveal Judith’s back story and psyche…little snippets erupting from the deeper layers of her consciousness.
Now that I think about it, it makes sense that my muse would be fond of such devices, since all three—flashbacks, dreams and muses—reside in the subconscious mind.
I wonder what will pop out in the next book…
All is not as it seems in Starling, Florida…
A phone call from a desperate teen, awaiting trial for felony murder, spurs Chief of Police Judith Anderson to re-open the case of a drug deal gone wrong. But her investigation finds more questions than answers. How did the white gang members involved end up with sweet plea deals, while the Latino kid with no record is charged with felony murder? Meanwhile, attempts on the mayor’s life and glimpses around town of her lover with various women divide Judith’s attention and trigger her old demons of distrust.
About the Author: Kassandra Lamb has never been able to decide which she loves more, psychology or writing. In her youth, she had to decide between writing and paying the bills. Partial to electricity and food, she studied psychology. Now retired from a career as a psychotherapist and college professor, she spends most of her time in an alternate universe with her characters. The magic portal to this universe (i.e., her computer) is located in Florida, where her husband and dog catch occasional glimpses of her.
She is the author of the Kate Huntington mystery series (about a psychotherapist as amateur sleuth), the Marcia Banks and Buddy cozy mysteries (about a service dog trainer and her mentor dog), and the police procedural series, The Co.P. on the Scene Mysteries, plus a guidebook for novice writers, Someday Is Here! A Beginner’s Guide to Writing and Publishing Your First Book. She also writes romantic suspense under the pen name of Jessica Dale.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
WEBSITE: https://kassandralamb.com
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/kassandralambauthor
INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/kasslamb/
PINTEREST: https://www.pinterest.com/kassandralamb/
BOOKBUB PROFILE: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kassandra-lamb
GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5624939.Kassandra_Lamb
Thanks to the Fire Department!
/in Author Life, Debra H. Goldstein/by DebraThe Irondale Fire Department – four strong and a truck – just left my street. The four firefighters previously had been in my home. They weren’t there because of a fire. Rather, as a community service, they’d responded to my request for help with an upstairs beeping alarm.
As many of you know, I’m recovering well from back surgery, but I’m not quite at the point that I can scramble up ladders to change the batteries in smoke or carbon monoxide detectors. A friend had tried to help me determine which of the two was the beeper, but she not only couldn’t ascertain the culprit, but she wasn’t able to figure out how to open either of them. Not being able to maneuver the steps, I was no help to her.
At that moment, while the chirping continued, I remembered reading that the fire department would help in a situation like the one I found myself in. I called the non-emergency number and explained my situation. Once they learned I had the batteries necessary for replacement, they asked if right now was a good time for them to come out to help me.
Yes!
They arrived. While two went upstairs to determine the problematic alarm, one carried in a small ladder, and one kept me company downstairs. They quickly resolved the chirp, then waived off my thanks for their help. To them, it was all in a day’s work. To me, it was lifesaving or should I say sanity saving after two days of chirping.
When they pulled away, two neighbors, fearing I had fallen, texted to see if I was okay. I replied that I was more than okay. My problem was solved, and I was feeling grateful.
I have the same feeling when I interact with other writers. Whether we brainstorm, listen to each other’s tales of woe about our writing, or lament about something that has broken in our home that has distracted us from writing, we come through for each other. For that I am grateful.
Have you had a situation where a community service, like that provided by the fire department, or a personal connection with another author, has made you feel grateful?
A Happy Birthday!
/in Author Life, author promotion, Give Away/by Bethany MainesDO LOOK BACK
/in Author Life, Uncategorized/by Susan P. BakerWhat is this thing about not looking back? Does anyone really not do that? How do we know where we’re going if we don’t know where we’ve been? I was thinking about that a lot lately because, I guess you could say, I experienced a bad spell where I was way down in the dumps. Then I was at a meeting last week and someone started talking about Lot’s wife and not looking back. (BTW, I’m annoyed we don’t know Lot’s wife’s name.) I’d already been thinking about her.
The past twelve or so months have been trying to say the least. Not wanting to bore any readers with my sad story, suffice it to say, if I took a stress test, I’d score 100+.
Since I moved back from Mexico at the end of 2016, I’ve aimed to put out at least one book before the end of each year, but because of the issues in my sad story, I didn’t get one out before the end of ’23. So, what did I do? I set myself a goal, or you could say, a deadline of June ’24 to get that book out and the end of ’24 to get another book out I haven’t finished yet either.
I was feeling sorry for myself that so many issues were getting in the way on this book writing and publishing thing that I so often love. Frustrated. Then I remembered, at the end of each year I look at what I did or what happened in the previous year and what I want to do in the upcoming year. Like Janus. I hadn’t really let myself focus on that as much as I usually do, so one day I sat myself down and looked at what I’ve accomplished not just in the past year but in the past seventy-four (74) years of my life. I instantly felt better, especially when I didn’t turn into a pillar of salt.
I also felt better a couple of days ago, when I decided I’d probably quit getting headaches, some of which are migraines, if I quit overwhelming myself. I changed my deadlines and gave myself permission to change them again. I’m in this because I love it, and I don’t love it when I put unreal expectations on myself and cause myself to have a negative response.
By the way, did you know that if you go on YouTube and put in Don’t Look Back, you will find pages of songs that include Don’t Look Back In Anger. What is it about not looking back that fascinates people?
What a coincidence that I was reading about Janus, and to my surprise, I found a blog or essay or whatever the author called it about Janus, the god of writing. https://writescape.ca/site/2017/01/janus-the-god-of-writing/ .
I’m saying look forward, but look back. See where you’ve come. See what you’ve accomplished. Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive—Elbert Hubbard. (Something I’ll be constantly reminding myself.)
Susan P. Baker is a retired judge, mother of 2, grandmother of 8, world traveler, author of 14 published books with several partials in her drawers—at least that’s what she used to say back when partials were printed out, before computers and the Internet. You can read more about her at www.susanpbaker.com.
How Best to Make Sure the Books You Love Keep Coming
/in Uncategorized/by DebraSome of the things I’ve learned as a published novelist have turned me into a better fan of my own favorite authors. I’ve written on this blog before about pre-ordering and how I learned of its importance to writers. Instead of waiting for the books of my favorite author to be published, I pre-order now, knowing I’m contributing to their success, as well as assuring I’ll have their book as soon as it’s available.
I thought I was already helping with reviews. On my blog, www.LindaRodriguezWrites.blogspot.com, I try to spotlight books by literary writers of color who might be hard for the average reader to find, as well as mystery novelists who are writing high-quality fiction. I do this with profiles, interviews, and sometimes reviews of individual books. However, I’ve learned that reviews on Amazon and Goodreads count more toward sales than those longer ones on my blog or elsewhere.
I’ve always just given stars to books on Goodreads. I’ve read so many books that I didn’t think I had time for more than that. I was wrong. Those stars don’t do much good. It’s the reviews that make others decide to pick up the book to read. It’s the same with Amazon—reviews lead to sales. Even for authors who seem to have it made! Often even famous writers are just a breath or two away from tumbling down the slopes in the fickle game of publishing (as we saw recently when the major publishers all suddenly threw off multiple mystery writers, leaving many scrambling for new publishers or trying to reinvent themselves), and success is even more volatile for midlist authors. I try not to buy much on Amazon, so I’ve not done much except hit the ‘Like” button for a book/author I enjoy.
I learned about how important these reviews can be to authors, and I’d set myself a goal to post a daily review of a novelist whose work I enjoyed on either Amazon or Goodreads. Unfortunately, Amazon now won’t allow me to review many of the books I’d like to, because they assume I’m friends with the author. In some cases, I barely know the author, and in others, I don’t know them, at all, but Amazon has decided that, since I’m an author myself, I must necessarily know all other authors, apparently. So this is one way that I can’t contribute to keeping my favorite authors publishing, but if you can, those reviews matter more than almost any others. I have learned how to link my blog, so a review on my blog posts to my author page on Amazon or Goodreads, however. This is one thing I can do to make sure the writers I love don’t disappear on me.
I’ve always been a person others ask for book recommendations, primarily because I read so much in so many areas. Now that I’ve learned how important that word-of-mouth advice on books can be, I’ll be doing a lot more book recommendations and not just waiting for folks to ask me. I have occasionally requested my library system buy a book I want that they don’t have. Now, as soon as I know a book is coming out by one of my favorite writers, I will request my library system order that book—and my own pre-orders for those books will be through local bookstores because that helps them decide whether or not to order in that book to have on the shelves.
The publishing business is in deep flux right now, and authors are being required to do more than ever to promote their books. Every novelist I know, famous or unknown, is buried in a mountain of promotion efforts while still trying to write the books we fans love and wait for breathlessly. The sheer numbers, literally millions, of books flooding the market now, some by authors who haven’t bothered to learn to be good writers or good editors, makes it hard for the potential buyer to find the writers who have worked for many years to hone their craft. Everything we, as fans of good writing in whatever genre, can do to make our favorite authors successful ensures that in the volatile atmosphere of publishing today these favorite novelists will survive and thrive—and continue providing us with our favorite addiction, their good books.
Do you know of other strategies we fans can do to help ensure the success of the book and authors we love?