Dance (and write?) Like Nobody’s Watching

Rachel Brady

Maybe it’s just me, but publishing a book feels a little bit like getting a serious groove on when you think you’re alone but people are watching. Dang. If I knew you were standing there during my unabashed booty-shake*, I’d have worked on my moves a little more.

When I wrote my first novel, I had no idea my friends and co-workers would read it one day. That is probably a good thing, because just like we should dance like nobody’s watching, I also think we should write like nobody’s reading . . .

. . . but only during the early drafts.

Later in the process, we have agents and editors to prevent us from embarrassing ourselves and help us shine.

Thing is, I don’t like my agent or editor to see my early drafts. I don’t like to publicly mess up. But in the life cycle of a book, this is required. So I have a few close writing friends who look over pages before I do the literary equivalent of busting a move on the dance floor with toilet paper stuck to my shoe.

Their job is to tell me which parts are humming and which parts I should cut and delete off my hard drive so they can never be traced back to me.

Rules of engagement go something like this.

1. Must be frank.
Recently, I got a note in one scene that just said: Huh??
Enough said. Thank you, it’s fixed now.

2. Must tell me when I use the wrong word.
You were right. A voice “crackles” on a speaker, it doesn’t “cackle.” Thank you for preventing me from being exposed as the imposter I am.

3. Must call Bullsh!t on me when I handwave around an ill-conceived plot point.
Perhaps I’m inherently lazy or just hopeful nobody will notice, but my friends always do. A good reader will tell you it doesn’t make sense and spare you from hearing it from an editor, who I promise will always notice.

4. Must wield a pen like a machete.
There’s a prevailing notion that getting copy back with a lot of red ink (or tracked changes) is a negative thing, but I love it. When this happens, a reader isn’t trying to re-write your stuff so much as suggest an alternate way to present it. I usually like the new way better and almost always use it, sometimes shamelessly ripping off a line and passing it off as my own. Before you judge me, my friend David says there’s no such thing as plagiarism between friends*. He calls it an homage, which sounds so, so much better.

My editor likes to see the first 100 pages of a new story before I get too far along with the book. It’ll be a while before that happens, because right now my fave writing buds, Bill Tate and David Hansard, are off employing rules 1-4, helping me make sure I don’t go out on the dance floor looking like Elaine.

Writing is solitary sometimes. Other times, it’s a tremendous team effort. This post is a virtual hug to Bill and Dave, who are reading for me now, and to Laura Weber and Nikki Bonanni, who read for me earlier and helped me get this story off the ground.

Thanks to you all, maybe next year I’ll be rockin’.


*Clips are more fun in foreign languages, don’t you think?
**When employing the homage approach, it’s good to have reader friends who won’t sue you. Good luck.

Call Me Crazy

Call me crazy.


I’ve joined a new blogging community.


Go ahead, I’m serious. Loca. Nuts. Headed for the loony bin. They all fit. I’m a blogging fool.



But the thing is, I must love it or I wouldn’t do it! And blogging has made me so many fantastic friends. One, for example, ahem, Tonya Kappes, has become one of my all time best friends. Simpatico is the word that comes to mind. Another, Lee Lopez, is that friend who will always be there, she’s grounded, and she’ll tell me like it is. I trust her to be honest all the time.



Then there’s Wendy Lyn Watson, fellow cozy mystery writer and crit partner and great friend–she gave our family our newest addition, a little kitty whose name is either Pablo or Nacho. We’re still undecided. Together, Wendy and I work with Heather Webber. Now Heather and I met online through a variety of blogging ventures and now the three of us (Wendy, Heather, and me) blog together on Killer Characters.



When you meet a blogging friend in person, it’s so cool! I met Heather in Cincinnati recently when I presented a workshop (The Naked Hero Strips Down Hero – Archetypes!) at Lori Foster’s Readers and Writers Event with Tonya.


We already *knew* each other, so it was easy to fall into a friendship face to face.


Not all friendships are easy. Some are work. Some are toxic. Some are just not meant to be. But no matter what, you learn (or at least I do) from the friendships and relationships in your life. And blogging (or online) friendships are no different. I’ve learned to surround myself with people I enjoy being around, people who are easy to talk to, easy to get along with, who give as much as they receive (because I’m a giver, and reciprocity is always appreciated!), and who are fun. Life is too short not to have fun!


Blogging is a great way to make friends-just look at the ladies in heels right here at The Stiletto Gang! I adore every one of them and am so glad to be part of their group.


And so my blogging community has broadened. Here’s a rundown of me…on the web!


The Naked Hero

Books on the House

Books on the House for Kids and Teens

Stiletto Gang

A Kid’s Cooking Challenge (more on that another time, but check it out! It’s with my kids!)


and now…


Killer Characters


I hope you’ll visit me, and now, tell me where you hang your hat on the web so I can visit you!


~ Misa / Melissa

Why I Like to Read

Today, the Stiletto Gang welcomes mystery fan and friend, Dru, to our blog. Many of us have met Dru at mystery conventions and consider her an authority on all things mystery. Welcome, Dru!

My name is Dru and I’m an avid book reader. My day job as a research analyst keeps me in books that I love to buy and read. When not reading, I’m creating quilts, listening to music, watching TV crime dramas or mysteries and traveling when I can.

Why I like to readI read because it is entertaining, relaxing and I can escape on different adventures. Reading mysteries combines my love of puzzles and research. You have to look at the clues and fit the pieces together and I find that entertaining.

Where else can I sit in my living room and travel to the Pacific Northwest? Small town USA? The big city? Or right here in the town where I live? A book.

Where else can I help solve a murder mystery and not have to face the killer? Taking up a hobby and learning the ins and outs is easy once I read one of the many cozy mystery books that I’ll find on a shelf.

Reading a book, in particular, a series gives me the satisfaction that within the next year, I’ll be visiting my friends again and I can’t wait to see what our next adventure will bring.

Why do I read? Because I enjoy it and who knows, one of the books and/or author may one day be a Jeopardy question.

Who are some of your favorite authors? Your favorite cozies?

To see what Dru’s been reading, click here and the quilts that she’s created here.

Dru Ann Love

Don’t Listen to Movie Stars’ Opinions About Much of Anything

When I was a kid I loved movie stars. I cut their photos out of movie magazines (that’s what we had back in my day) and taped them to my closet doors. (Only place mom allowed me to do it.)

Our family went to the movies every Friday night. Sometimes I went to matinees with my friends.

My father worked for Paramount and loved to tell us how awful different stars we liked really were–how they acted on and off the set, how they treated anyone they thought a bit lower in status than they were, lack of morals and so on. At that time, I didn’t really care–and probably thought my dad was exaggerating.

In case you misunderstand, I do believe everyone has a right to their own opinion. But what galls me is to hear a big name movie star speak out on TV like he is an expert about–you name it, politics, global warming, religion, family, the economy, how to fix whatever our problems are or he or she thinks they may be.

Thanks to all the magazines we have now, we know that my dad was right, most of these people don’t behave on or off the set, and have an alarming lack of morals. Frankly, I wonder about some of their intelligence. Just because someone has a beautiful face, body, talent that doesn’t necessarily equal brains. (If you want to know the truth, I feel the same way about most of the politicians.)

For instance, what right does someone who lives in a big house (and probably owns more than one) with who knows how many big screen TVs and other appliances that use up all kinds of electricity and drive and own multiple cars, and maybe fly his or her own airplane wherever they want to go, to tell me or you that we need to conserve, start walking instead of driving, well you get the idea.

None of these folks live in the real world–the world we all live in. They have no understanding of the problems the rest of us face in our day-to-day lives.

I’ve gotten it off my chest and I feel much better.

Might as well let me know what really bugs you.

Marilyn

The Art of Sweltering

As I look at my checkbook balance and see how much money I spent last week to keep my central air conditioning working, I wonder how people throughout the ages dealt with excessive heat and humidity without the benefit of electricity and Freon.

No, I’m not going to research the history of the modern a/c unit. I think it’s enough to note that homeowners survived without it until the last 50 years or so. How? Last week, I only managed one hot night in my home after the a/c stopped.

The fan motor on my outside a/c unit died at noon on a Sunday. I stayed that night with my parents, enjoying their air conditioning. The next day I reclaimed my home and scheduled a visit from my a/c repair guy. He couldn’t come immediately, so I used fans and made a panicked run to Lowes for a portable a/c unit. But these were only stopgap measures until my a/c repair guy could ride in on his white horse (okay Ford F-150 truck) to save the day.

But what if I couldn’t have afforded the repair? What then? Why is a/c so vital now? Our grandparents grew up and survived without indoor air conditioning. What’s changed? Is it because of global warming? Is it that much hotter now? Maybe. But I suspect it’s more about the way buildings are designed, our proximity to our neighbors, the concrete surrounding us, and the lack of trees.

My house, built in the late 1940s with an addition tacked on in the 1970s, is close to other houses on either side. I have a very deep backyard, but not much yard on the sides. This means that if I open my windows, I have little chance of catching a breeze. I have windows on the front of my house, but the air that manages to trickle in from there, is superheated from all the concrete streets and driveways. And the backyard, where I have trees and grass, no windows on that side of the house. I think the builders were more concerned with keeping the north side sealed up and warm. They succeeded. A couple of years ago, when I had no electricity during a two week period after an ice storm, no pipes froze.

Last week when I had no a/c, the outside temps were hovering around 100 F with very high humidity levels. The temperature inside the house, before the fans and portable a/c began combating the heat, reached a sweltering 90 F with a 70 percent humidity level. (Note: I prefer an inside temperature of 70 F year round, so 90 F inside was miserable.)

I think differently about my home when the electricity is off, when the heating/cooling systems are off-line, when the cable (tv, phone, internet) is on the fritz. It feels like a betrayal. Almost like the building is a living, breathing entity that’s failed to live up to my expectations. Very disappointing. I’m sure this relationship will work itself out, but right now … sigh.

My a/c is again pumping out cool air, although struggling around 3 p.m. when the heat index is the worst. I hold my breath when the temps in the house start to rise, fearful that the overtaxed unit will die again. Around 8 p.m. the unit catches up and all is well, but it’s hard to rebuild trust.

Fall weather can’t come too soon for me.

Rhonda
aka The Southern Half of Evelyn David

What We Love/Loathe About Summer

Stepping atop a soapbox in stilettos isn’t easy. But the whole Gang has climbed on up, and we’re ready to raise our voices on plenty of different topics. We won’t always agree, but that’s what makes life interesting. And we want to hear what you think, too. So join in our soapbox conversations the second Friday of each month, with a preview today and then regularly beginning in September. Now without further ado, our summer loves and hates…

MAGGIE: I love summer, plain and simple. I much prefer heat to cold. The humidity does wonders for my dessicated Irish skin (not sure if that adjective applies, but you get my drift) and my straw-like, over-processed hair. I love a delicious hamburger fresh from the grill…we hardly ever eat red meat in the fall/winter/spring months so we go to town in the summer. I love a cold margarita and some spicy guacamole. (Ok–how did this turn into Maggie’s Ode to Food and Drink?) I love the riverside concerts in the park that’s walking distance from our house. I love the beautiful pink petunias spilling over the sides of my window boxes. I hate, hate, hate the mosquitoes. I always say that I am the human equivalent of a citronella candle…you don’t want to get bit, come sit by me. I alternately love not having a schedule and hate not having a schedule. I do enjoy not having to make lunches every night, though.

MARIAN (aka the Northern half of Evelyn David): I love, love, love…Snowballs. The Baltimore treat, not to be confused with Italian ices found in New York or orbs thrown at younger siblings. These sweet confections of my childhood were crushed (not shaved) ice, flavored with sweet syrups. My favorite? Chocolate snowball with marshmallow topping and vanilla ice cream (layered). When I was eating them I was too young to worry about the calorie count – and if I could find one now, I wouldn’t care if there were 2,000 calories in the cup, the sheer bliss would be worth it. Roses. I have a black thumb and can barely keep ivy alive. But I love the smell and look of roses and remember, with great delight, the rosebush garden that my mother, the original Evelyn, had in our backyard. The ocean at sunset. There’s something about seeing the sun dip beneath the horizon, the fierce reds and yellows slipping out of sight, that’s inspiring. Sure the sun sets in the winter, but in the summer, after an exhausting, sandy day at the beach, sunset is longer, brighter, later, and means that the nighttime fun can begin. I hate, hate, hate…The humidity. When my hair has its own zipcode, you know it’s summertime and the humidity is back. The wrinkles. I’m not talking about my skin, but my clothes after an hour in that humid summer sunshine. The smells. It’s nice to remember the roses of summer but, not to put too delicate a spin on it, there’s also the fragrant aroma of garbage, and frankly, other people and myself sweating when walking in the Big Apple. In a packed subway? Oy!

MARILYN loves summer because: Lots of kids come over to use the swimming hole in the river behind our house. (I don’t go down there anymore, but it’s great to hear all the happy sounds.) Life’s frantic pace seems to slow down somewhat. My son barbecues for us. But she hates: All the spiders that decide to come out of hiding. We have some of the ugliest critters possible, big and hairy. I don’t have a bit of trouble killing them. The San Joaquin Valley heat. Even though we live in the foothills and it’s always a bit cooler up here, it’s still way too hot. One good thing, it’s usually a dry heat. No rain. Sometimes we don’t get a single rainstorm all summer long. Electric bills. We have solar which helps, but not enough panels to take care of it all.

MISA gives a thumbs-up to: Lack of a schedule: after the crazy school year, no schedule is great! Staying up late and sleeping in: It’s such a treat! Being with the kids. God love ’em! Husband time. Having him around the house is like our newlywed days. Reading: summertime means permission to read more. Misa doesn’t like: Lack of a schedule: it’s hard to get things done with no schedule to keep me on track! Staying up late and sleeping in: If I stay up late, I’m tired in the morning, unless I sleep in, and then I feel as if I’ve wasted important and valuable waking hours. Being with the kids: I need space!! Husband time: see above (kids). Reading: reading more means writing less, which isn’t always good!

RACHEL loves: Having my kids home from school. They are neat people and I like the down-time with them. The beach. I never tire of the sun and surf. Snowcones. Nothing says “cheerful” like brightly colored shaved ice and the smiles they put on my kids’ faces. Concerts in the park. I love live music and being outside. Sandals. They are casual and fun, just like I try to be. Rachel hates: Having my kids home from school. They make a lot of messes and bicker all the time. Plus, they’re really loud. The beach. I’m not sure which is worse, the sand that ends up in my bikini bottom or the sand that ends up all over my van. Snowcones. Nothing but overpriced empty calories here. A blessing and a curse for any frugal, health-conscious Mom. Concerts in the park. You know how after a mosquito bites you, it starts to feel like a thousand of them are biting you now? I hate that. Sandals. Stop looking at my chipped toe nail polish. I was too busy rinsing out my bikini bottom!

RHONDA (the Southern half of Evelyn David) says “the best of summer has always been”…home grown tomatoes, sliced and eaten with a pinch of salt…the sweet taste of Black Diamond watermelons…fresh peaches from local fruit stands…corn on the cob lathered with butter and salt…going barefoot in the grass…floating on an air mattress in a swimming pool or lake…vacations – full days where you can spend your time however you want…hydrangeas in full bloom bringing splashes of color that last for months. And the worst…mowing the yard and needing to do it all over again in three days…temps over 100F and humidity making the air so thick you can barely breathe…the smell of hot asphaltants, mosquitoes, and wasps invading my space…hot car interiorsdelays and congestion from all the road construction work.

As for SUSAN: What I love most about summer is when it’s over and leaves start turning colors, the air gets crisp and tinged with the smell of chimney smoke, and pumpkins everywhere brace themselves for carving! I am such a fall baby!

What about you? What do you love/hate about summer???

Forgotten Books


It may seem crazy to some to think of Gone With the Wind, a perennial favorite for close to 75 years now, as a forgotten book. But among many women of my generation (I’m 44), it IS forgotten. That is to say, my friends KNOW about it, but they’ve never READ it. Something unknown keeps them away from it, tempted though they may be. They toss around all kinds of explanations as to why they haven’t read it:


“It’s dated, it’s too long, I don’t read historical books, I’ll watch the movie instead…”


I think they’re nuts!


I first read Gone With the Wind when I was in eleventh grade. I couldn’t put it down–even sneaking away to the back room of the little store I worked at to read when I should have been dusting shelves or stocking or any of a number of other retail tasks. But I had to see what Scarlett would do next. How Rhett would respond. What he’d do in return. I was lost in Atlanta, a city I didn’t know from Adam, but which held magical charm for me. And Scarlett’s life philosophy–After all, tomorrow is another day–are pretty good words to live by.


I’ve tried to get friends to through caution to the wind and read the book. I chose it for book club and it was a smashing success. Startling after all these years how the book holds up, how there is so much to discuss in terms of the Civil War, Scarlett’s choices, Rhett’s commitment and unique system of honor, carpetbaggers, yankees, midwifery, the South, and so much more. It was an interesting reminder, as well, to recall how different the movie is from the book. Katie Scarlett had children! Several children, not just the tragic Bonnie Blue Butler.


Scarlett was a feminist–of a sort– before feminism existed. She used whatever means she had to–whatever was at her disposal–to get what she wanted, and she made no bones about it. Was she always right? No. In fact, usually she was wrong. But we cheer her on anyway because she’s so determined not to let life beat her down.

Gone With the Wind probably isn’t as forgotten as I’m making it out to seem–in fact, I could take the other side of my own argument and say it will never be forgotten–but to those women who’ve not made the leap yet, or who would rather watch the movie, and to my daughter’s generation (she’s a week shy of 10), it could well become forgotten unless we, who love it, pass it on.


So here’s to Margaret Mitchell for creating one unforgettable heroine and a book which should never be forgotten.


Now it’s your turn. What’s one unforgettable book in your reading history?


~Misa / Melissa

A Word about Furniture Assembly

I woke up a Sunday morning about a week ago with the bright idea that I needed to provide child #2 more storage in his tiny bedroom. Although he has a beautiful, matching bedroom set that we purchased while he was still in utero, the height of the dresser that came with the set was up until now too high for him to get his clothes out of the top drawer. Child #2, being an extremely agile critical thinker and climber, solved this problem by using the bottom drawer as a step stool and hoisting himself up to pull out the top drawer. The result? Two broken drawers in a five-drawer dresser.

I consider myself something of a whiz with a hammer and a butter knife and have repaired this piece of furniture several times throughout the years on my own. But American craftsmanship not being what it used to be, child #2 was able to break both drawers immediately following my repair and has been left with only three drawers that serve any purpose. That, coupled with the fact that I am convinced he’s going to pull the top drawer out and give himself a subdural hematoma spurred me to wake up and call my friend, Mary Ann, and ask her if she wanted to drive to a big-box furniture store that shall remain nameless. Big-box furniture store has good, cheap furniture. The only catch is that you have to put it together yourself. How hard could that be? I asked myself. Mary Ann assured me that her handy husband had no problem assembling the two dressers that she bought a few weeks earlier and that they were excellent examples of Scandinavian craftsmanship.

Bonus—Mary Ann has an SUV. We could shop to our hearts’ content and still have enough room to put all of our purchases in the back. The whole day was to be a thing of beauty. We would even schedule time to have Swedish meatballs in the big-box furniture store’s cafeteria. What could better?

What could be better? Furniture that is already assembled.

Two things I didn’t count on? Technical drawings/directions, and almost one hundred degree temperatures with sixty percent humidity.

I decided that there was no time like the present. I also know, from experience, that the longer I let things like assembling furniture from big-box Scandinavian furniture stores go, the more likely it is that aforementioned furniture will be sold, for a loss, at a tag sale at some date in the future. So, armed with a butter knife and a hammer, I plopped myself in child #2’s room and set about putting together a three-drawer dresser.

Step 1: Put it together backwards.

Step 2: Nail backing of dresser to front of backwards dresser.

Step 3: Curse as if you’re an extra on “The Sopranos.”

Step 4: Take backing off of front-ing, pull out nail holes that now adorn the front, and complain to husband.

Step 5: Wonder why husband can’t read minds and bring you a glass of cold Chardonnay when you think about it.

Step 6: Put drawers together.

Step 7: Attempt to put drawers in and realize that dresser is still backwards.

Step 8: Take backing off again and kick drawer.

Step 9: Leave room, your hair dripping sweat and curse out big-box Scandinavian furniture store, swedish meatball gas building in your abdomen.

Step 10: Do not go back into room. Stare longingly at half-assembled dresser.

I let it go three days before returning to it. Cost of dresser: $149. Amount of time it took me to put together: 6 hours. Me swearing off big-box furniture stores: Priceless.

Maggie Barbieri

Who Tampered with Time?

Or a subtitle could be, who shortened the days?

Honestly, 24 hours used to be so much longer than it is now.

When I was a kid, summer days went on and on. I had time to ride my bike everywhere. I organized clubs and even wrote by-laws for them. I put out a magazine for my friends and charged a nickle a copy. (This was in the days before copy machines. I used something called a hectograph or jelly pad. With every page, the jelly had to be melted down and allowed to dry before a new original could be put on it for printing.) I wrote plays and neighborhood kids performed in them.

I went to the library once a week and checked out 10 books at a time–and read them all. We did fun things with our families, picnics at the park, made ice cream when the relatives came over. We went to the movies every Friday night.

After I grew up and married, during the summer months the kids and I would quickly do all the chores, pack a lunch and drive to the beach where we stayed until time to come home and make dinner.

Even when my family kept increasing, I did the laundry nearly every day, kept the house clean, had a Blue Bird group that turned into a Camp Fire group and then a high school Horizon Club. Over the years I also had a lot of jobs–worked for the phone company between and during pregnancies and still managed my home and family. Hubby was in the Navy and was off in many different places including three tours of duty in Vietnam during the war.

I took kids here and there, served in many offices in PTA from newsletter editor, secretary and four years as president. And yes, I even did some writing besides the newsletter, plays for my Horizon Club girls to perform in.

Finally we had five kids, hubby was retired after 20 years of service and went to work for Sears. Youngest boy went to kindergarten and I taught at a school for developmentally disabled pre-schoolers in the mornings and went to college at night. And that’s when I started writing my first book.

Children grew up. I planned weddings, cooked food for the receptions, took care of grandkids, still did all the house things and worked. And yes, I wrote every chance I got.

We moved and hubby and I took over a home for six developmentally disabled women. We cared for the women, I did lots and lots of laundry, cooked many meals, took our ladies to the doctor, to the movies, to church, bowling–and did lots of required paperwork. And I wrote. My first book was published during this time.

We also provided a home for different grandkids over the years and did all the school things required for them. My mom lived next door. We had all sorts of family celebrations including a big party for her 80th birthday and over 100 people came. I planned and fixed all the food.

Now we’re retired. Have another adult grandson living with us. I don’t have to do all the things I did when we had our residential facility. I still get up early. I don’t have to do nearly as much laundry. I only clean hubby’s and my bedroom, bathroom and my office as my son and daughter-in-law do the rest.

We try to go to the movies and out to eat once a week, but we don’t do anything very exciting except promo events.

Now here’s the problem, I don’t have near the time to write as I did all those years I did so many other things. What happened to the time? I should have lots more than I did back then.

Anyone have a solution for me?

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com

Ch-Ch-Changes

With a tip of the hat to Dreamgirls, picture both halves of Evelyn David warbling, “We are ch-ch-changing.” Maybe not quite so dramatic, but in fact, there’s a whole lot of change going on in the Evelyn David households.

Here’s the takeaway, as they say in the news biz:

Murder Drops the Ball, the third in the Sullivan Investigations Series, will be published next spring by our new publisher, Wolfmont Press!

Cue, fireworks!

The past twelve months have been a roller coaster ride, both personally and professionally. We both had health issues, which are now behind us (but let’s add a poo, poo, just to be safe). We had family issues (some exceptionally wonderful like Ms. Riley, who made the Northern half of this writing duo, a Grandma!). And then there were the hard decisions of what do we want to do next professionally.

Some of the questions and answers we faced as we made our decision?

Do we both still like to write mysteries? Yep, you bet.

Do we still want to write mysteries together? Absolutely, no question – heck, in truth, if we’re not writing them together, we’re not writing them.

And finally, with respect and gratitude to our first publisher who first believed in us, nonetheless, was it time for a change? And the answer was a sad yes.

We are so pleased to be working with Tony Burton, owner of Wolfmont Press and Honey Locust Press. Many of you know Tony from the wonderful charity mystery anthologies he creates each year, funneling thousands of dollars to Toys for Tots, and this year, hopefully for Homes for Our Troops. Tony is also Vice President of the Southeast Mystery Writers of America – and an author himself.

Here’s the plan. The Kindle editions (as well as e-book editions for the Nook and the i-Pad) are already available for Murder Off the Books and Murder Takes the Cake. The new print edition of Murder Off the Books (with a new cover) is now available at Amazon. The new print edition of Murder Takes the Cake will be out this winter.

Then next spring, Mac, Rachel, Whiskey and the gang are back in Murder Drops the Ball. It’s New Year’s eve and the body count is rising – while the temperatures fall. There’s a story to die for, humor to make you laugh out loud, the characters you love, and Whiskey, full of sass and an insatiable appetite.

In the meantime, we’ve got a fun contest for you. Thanks to Tony we made one change in the story to Murder Off the Books. We’re grateful for his expertise and readily agreed to the revision. The first three people who identify the change will receive a free copy of the new edition of Murder Takes the Cake.

In the midst of all this Ch-Ch-Changing, one thing remains constant: Evelyn David is here to stay!

Enjoy!

Evelyn David