The First Time…

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There are all sorts of firsts in life – first kiss, first car,
first love… With all due respect to my first kiss and my first love (and no,
they’re not the same) the first I remember most clearly is riding down the
sidewalk in front of my childhood home without my father holding onto my bike.
He’d let go before and I’d crashed. Spectacularly. I had the
skinned knees and scraped fingers to prove it. I told him I couldn’t do it. He told me I could. Lord knows, I
wanted to ride that bike. It was pink with a white banana seat, white handles
and hot pink streamers. I wanted it so badly I could taste it, so I tried
again.
The next time, I stayed upright. I flew. The bumps that, on
previous trips, had sent me careening into the neighbors’ lawns were just…bumps.
Behind me, my father cheered. Ahead of me, the world opened up like a new Nancy
Drew, with me as the heroine and untold adventures hiding around every corner.

On Tuesday, February 17th, I will experience
another first. The Deep End, will release.

I wish my father could hold onto the back of my banana seat
and whisper advice – Don’t obsess over
rankings, honey. Don’t drive your children crazy checking reviews on Goodreads.
Remember, not everyone will like it. He’d be right – about all of it.
He’d also be right if he told me to look out for adventures hiding around every corner.

 

A Good Person to Murder

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by Linda Rodriguez

One of the secret benefits of writing crime novels and short
fiction is the chance to vicariously kill off people who have worked hard at
pissing you off. We’re seldom violent people, we mystery writers, even though
we write about murder and lesser crimes. We’re usually polite and kind to our
friends and family and gentle with kids and animals. If you know a lot of crime
writers, you know we’re mostly very nice people. I believe mystery and thriller
writers are the nicest group of writers there are, and I know a lot of various
kinds of writers.

My theory about all that niceness is twofold: Nice people
may just be drawn to write mysteries and thrillers, or we’re all so nice
because we have the chance to work off all our anger in our books. I know I’ve
been able to deal with a certain person’s nasty behavior in real life much more
easily since I wrote a scene where a similar character was mowed down by reams
of bullets in a classic gangland shooting.

For that matter, listening to mystery writers at a
professional conference talk at meals or in the bar can be scary for outsiders.
We swap good ways to murder, especially in ways that are difficult to prove, and
methods and places to dispose of bodies. I’ve watched waitresses and bartenders
stand back from a group of us with leery eyes as they overhear bits and pieces
of what must seem a violent conspiracy. I suspect the really troubling thing is
that all this morbid conversation is always full of great cheer and hilarity.

This ability to extract satisfying revenge on the page can
remove lots of resentment and hurt from our lives. That co-worker who goes
around behind everyone’s back, telling lies to stir up trouble in the workplace
that costs people their promotions or even their jobs—smash her over the head
with a fax machine. The senior faculty member who steals your research and
passes it off as his own, branding you as a pathetic liar when you protest—how about
rat poison in his coffee? The old schoolmate who made you a laughingstock at
the last reunion—have her hit and run over by a car. The guy who humiliated and
dumped you publicly after “borrowing” all your savings—let a crazed serial
killer catch up with him and slash him up. The ex-wife who cheated on you all
through your marriage and then took your house and kids to go off with someone
else—fake a suicide with a handgun to the head (that your smart detective will
see through immediately). The sexually harassing boss who threatens to destroy
your career if you complain or don’t let him have his slimy way with you—tie him
up naked for kinky sex and smother him with a pillow over his face.

So the next time you’re at a crime writers conference, look
around at all those sweet, funny, and kindly mystery authors and ask yourself, “Why
are these people smiling?”

It Was A Sign

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by Sparkle Abbey


So last
week, we were on our way to work and of course that means a trip through the
Starbucks drive-thru. Our Starbucks is very popular, especially in the
mornings and on the weekends. It’s not unusual for there to be a five or six
car wait before you even reach the speaker to place your order. Why not go
inside, you ask? Well, like most of the U.S., we’ve been hit with bone-chilling
subzero weather and over ten inches of snow. So regardless of the line, you don’t get out of your vehicle
unless you have to.



On this day,
the drive-thru was almost deserted. There were only three cars in front of us.
That’s a good thing, right? The lack of customers certainly didn’t have
anything to do with icy roads, a wind-chill of twenty below, or the fact that
it was after 8:00 am and the morning rush had already passed though. It was a
sign to proceed! So we did.

Just one example of our many Starbucks stops 
In what felt
like seconds, but was probably more like five minutes, it was our turn to order
our usual: grande non-fat no water chai, and a grande skinny hazelnut latte.
The only problem was that the driver’s window wouldn’t roll down. It was frozen
shut. There was no way that window was moving.

You see
where this is going.

Since there
were cars behind us, keeping us from backing out and a making a clean getaway,
we had only one choice—open the door to place the order. We looked rather silly, and felt
a little foolish. And while we were hoping no one was paying attention to us,
we weren’t that lucky. We caught the driver behind us was smiling at us. Our barista also got a good chuckle at our predicament and casually mentioned we weren’t the first customer with a frozen window.

Within a few
minutes it was our turn to pay. Once again, we opened the door, allowing the
freezing wind to slap us around for a few seconds and to steal our breath. As
we reached for a Starbucks card to pay, the barista informed us there was no need-—our drinks had
already been paid for. Turned out the driver in the car before us felt so bad
about our window, he paid for our drinks! A true random act of kindness. It was
completely unexpected and it totally made our day.

February 9th
– 15th  is Random Act of Kindness week. The idea is to cheer up,
inspire, or help a stranger. There are many simple acts you can do: a
smile, let someone cut in front of you in line at the grocery store, or
pay for someone’s drink at your favorite coffee shop. Most acts of kindness
are free, you don’t have to spend money to “pay it forward.”

If you’re lacking
inspiration and need some “kindness” ideas, check out the Random
Acts of Kindness website. If you’re social media savvy, take part in
helping #RAKWeek2015 trend by flooding your social media platforms with
kindness. Look for us as we’ll be taking part in the fun.
What about
you? Have you initiated a random act of kindness? Have you ever been the recipient
of an act of kindness? Tell us about it! You never know who may read your comment
and feel inspired by you!

**The
Starbucks story is mostly true. It happened to only one of us. We’ll let you
guess which one.

One last shout out! If you’re in the Ames area this week, we’ll be at the grand opening of Treats on a Leash for a book signing from 10:00 am- noon. Stop by and say hi! Click here for more details!

3 Firsts for Me!

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By Kay Kendall

Here are my three firsts:                                                   


1) My first short story.
2) My first venture into
sci-fi.
3) My first
self-published project.

The shortest way to
explain that list above is  – I seized an
opportunity.

A group of writers asked
me to come aboard an anthology of short stories written around a common theme—called
The Prometheus Saga. There were rules to what we could do with our alien
character who dropped to earth, plus rules for making our stories as Kindle
shorts available only on Amazon. Set price = 99 cents. Such a bargain.

On Monday, January 26,
twelve of us published thirteen stories in The Prometheus Saga. Settings
include pre-history, the American Revolution, and the sixties. That latter was mine, entitled “Strangers on a Plane.” The sixties is what I write
about, always.

Fans of the suspense
genre will recognize my title as an homage to the great Patricia Highsmith’s
sinister novel, Strangers on a Train.
But my story is not sinister. Instead, it shows my amateur sleuth Austin Starr
traveling across the North American continent, rushing to the rescue of her
dear friend, Larissa Klimenko. Readers who know my debut mystery DESOLATION ROW
will recognize these characters.

New is an odd elderly
woman who calls herself Promethea. Strange things happen. Then Austin and
Promethea disembark from the plane, never to see each other again. This short
story is a bridge to my next mystery, RAINY DAY WOMEN (due out this summer), and
the sci-fi touch is so light that I don’t bend the mystery genre—not too much.

Why did I seize this
opportunity? Advice to writers is to issue short stories in between major books
as a way to keep your readers interested. While some of my author pals crank
out more than one book a year, I don’t do that. Thus, this advice seemed wise.

Moreover, there was a
chapter I dearly loved that for various reasons my editor suggested I chop from
my next book. Here was a way to save it.

Finally, authors are
encouraged these days to become “hybrids.” That means that you mix up your
projects—some issued through publishers and others self-published. When I
checked, the wonderful Ken Coffman, owner of Stairway Press of Seattle, was
fine with my participating in The Prometheus Saga.

So, here’s the bottom line. If you ever felt a tiny urge to
read my fiction and never acted on it, you now can do so for only 99 cents. You
don’t even have to own a Kindle. There’s an app that lets you read “Strangers
on a Plane” on your tablet, cell phone, PC, or Mac. Return to the time of
America’s first moon landing, the week of the horrid Manson murders, and
endless bad news from the Vietnam War. August 9, 1969—with just a hint of the
paranormal!

LEAVE A COMMENT BELOW FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A FREE E-EDITION
 OF “STRANGERS ON A PLANE”

13 stories make up The Prometheus Saga

*******   
Kay Kendall set her
debut novel, DESOLATION ROW–AN AUSTIN STARR MYSTERY in 1968. The sequel RAINY
DAY WOMEN (June 2015) shows her amateur sleuth Austin Starr proving
her best friend didn’t murder women’s liberation activists in
Seattle and Vancouver. A fan of historical mysteries, Kay does for the 1960s
what novelist Jacqueline Winspear accomplishes for England in the 1930s–present
atmospheric mysteries that capture the spirit of the age. Kay is also an
award-winning international PR executive who lives in Texas with her husband,
three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to the bunnies, she loves
them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. 

My Humble Opinion of the Movie, American Sniper by Marilyn Meredith

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I’m not a fan of war movies–but hubby is, so with some reluctance from me we went together.

First I should say that I’ve read all the controversy over the movie–but I also read comments by my daughter and several friends who loved it.

First off, it isn’t a pro-war movie–it is a factual movie about war, if anything, it’s the opposite.

Second, Chris Kyle was not a coward–he was a hero, and his main mission was to protect our men.

And third, and the most important part, the movie was a good depiction of what happens to a man and how the changes affect a family.

How do I know it was factual portrayal? Because I experienced some of what his wife and family did.

Hubby spent 3 tours in Vietnam as a Seabee. No, he didn’t shoot anyone, but he and the base he worked from were underfire all the time. When he worked with the heavy equipment building roads and airstrips, he was shot at–and a Marine riding with him shot back–but they kept on working.

Like Chris Kyle, he didn’t like to talk about what went on over there–and still doesn’t.

Like Chris Kyle, between tours he wasn’t the man I married. And he was always anzious to go back (something I couldn’t understand), though he turned down the 4th tour and soon retired with 20 years of service.

Besides the worry of whether or not something may happen to the amn you love and the father of your children, not only does he change while in combat–but you change too. When you are the one running the home and taking care of the emergencies (with 5 kids there were plenty of those), you become independent and it’s hard to give up being in charge when hubby does come home–especially if it’s only for a short time. (This wasn’t depicted in the movie, but I know it happens.)

I remember once saying to my husband, “You may be a Chief in the Navy, but I’m the Admiral of this house.” I don’t remember his reaction, and it’s probably a good thing that I don’t.

I was blessed because I still have my husband, and over the years he’s mellowed.

Marilyn

Mystery She Read by Lynn Cahoon

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I’m in a reading mood. I adore getting lost in a story, reading through the hours until my body is stiff and my dogs are chewing on my leg, trying to get me to let them out….

Okay, maybe not that.

I’ve been working on a presentation for my RWA chapter (go MoRWA) on Killer First Lines. Authors are warned away from several starts, one is this classic Snoopy line, “It was a dark and stormy night.” We’re told not to use it. It’s weather and setting and boring.

Except, if you’re Madeleine L’Engle and writing A Wrinkle in Time. I loved that book growing up. As a fatherless child, myself, this story gave me hope that my dad too, was just on another planet, waiting to be magically pulled back to my life.

Yes, there are reasons I’m an author. Like my mom asked, “How do you make up all these stories?” I would have thought she knew I’d been doing it all my life.

Authors don’t give up their imaginary friends, we just give them lives in our books.

Another book I loved as a kid was The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. I loved the story of a little boy driving through the fantasy world through a tollbooth that showed up in his room, just because he was bored.

Boredom doesn’t happen for authors as we’re off imagining a new world. And it that gets boring, I need to change up the story.

So what was your favorite book as a kid? Was it mystery related?

Lynn

Oh, and if you want a bit of romance for your Valentine’s Day, I have a novella in My Sexy Valentine. My story, The Twelve Days of Valentines, twists the classic Christmas song into a how to win your love in 12 days.