An Unexpected Gift

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My sister-in-law is a dynamo in a tiny package — an opera singer, actress, clown, energy healer, and animal lover. Lately, she’s been concerned that my elderly dog Teagan is overdoing therapy dog work.

True, together Teagan and I have done more than 200 visits to hospitals, courts, police departments, and even the King Soopers grocery store in the aftermath of the shooting. That’s a lot of draining emotional contact for both of us. If I thought Teagan didn’t enjoy the work, she’d retire, but she barks, dances in circles, and beats me to the car when I bring out the working vest she wears on visits (called a cape).

This year my SIL gave me a surprise for Christmas—a session with an animal communicator. She knew the communicator, a woman in Denver, and wanted to be certain Teagan wasn’t getting ill from any negative energy or emotions picked up during therapy visits.

I expected the communicator to talk in generalities or say things my SIL may have told her about my dog. I was even more skeptical when I learned the session could be done remotely over the phone based only on Teagan’s picture.

I dove into the session with some questions I’d prepared.

What was Teagan’s favorite toy? A little brown stuffed animal she calls Baby.

Okay. Good guess. Teagan does have a little brown moose she loves, but that’s a pretty common type of dog toy.

Who’s Teagan’s favorite parent? Your husband.

What!? That’s a question I never should have asked (LOL). But I’m the one who gives Teagan pills, injections, trims her nails, and performs all sorts of other unpleasantries whereas my husband rolls around the floor wrestling with her. Again, a good guess.

I shared that Teagan is allergic to chicken.

What food should I feed her? Definitely no fowl.

Of course not. I didn’t need the communicator to tell me that. I checked my watch. How much longer was this session?

Then the communicator continued: Try other proteins like beef, pork, and . . . hmmm . . . this can’t be right . . . kangaroo? Where did that come from all of a sudden?

Interesting. We’d recently tried a novel protein Teagan loved, which was — you guessed it — canned kangaroo. No way my SIL could have known that tidbit.

Okay, now I decided to throw the communicator a question from left field.

Was Teagan reincarnated? Turns out, Teagan never was a wild animal, and most of her past lives were as a human. Most vividly, the communicator saw Teagan in a small 18th century village as a midwife or healer, wearing a cape.

Whoa. Stop right there. A healer? Wearing a cape? Therapy dogs were known healers, but no way anyone outside the hospital therapy dog world called the dog vests “capes.”

At that point, the communicator had my complete attention, so I asked about Teagan’s health. After a few minutes, the communicator told me: Watch her liver.

Her liver? Teagan’s last blood work had shown slightly elevated liver values. No one other than the vet and my husband knew that.

Anything else about her health? Her left hip.

That’s odd. Teagan’s right hind leg sometimes gave her trouble, not her left one. I made a note to ask the vet on her next exam.

And, at the exam, the week before Christmas, the vet found a cancerous mast cell tumor on Teagan’s left hip. Since we’d caught the tumor so early, it hadn’t metastasized and was small enough to be cleanly removed.

Thanks to my sister-in-law and an animal communicator for the best gift ever.

Now I’m an openminded person. Do I believe? Well, I certainly don’t disbelieve. How about you?

Food Fight by Gay Yellen

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I’ve been stuck in a vigorous debate over an important cultural matter. It’s a food fight, of sorts, only with cookbooks. It would be nice to clean up the mess once and for all. So, here’s your chance to weigh in on the silliness.

Are you familiar with the ongoing on-line debate over whether a hot dog is or is not a sandwich? Well, my beef (!) is similar, except it’s about doughnuts.

Let’s start with a bit of history:

Today is National Pastry Day. A reason to rejoice, because the list of pastries associated with this event is mouth-watering, and includes one of my favorites: doughnuts.

A Wikipedia entry defines the doughnut as “a type of pastry made from leavened dough,” which seems straightforward enough to begin with. Wiki continues to state that it may come in many shapes, which explains the latest popular spinoff, the cronut, a mash up with another delicious pastry, the croissant. Given short shrift in the definition is the one made of cake, which contains no leavening yeast.

Lovers of the knock-off seem as passionate about their choice as I am of mine, the addictive, puffy, sugar-glazed delight which has fueled me through many long days at the keyboard.

In my world, as long as the doughnut-adjacent sweet remains qualified by its “cake” modifier, it may be okay, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

A bagel is similar in shape, but at least it has the dignity not to call itself a “bread” doughnut.

I believe a cake donut is merely cake trying to pass itself off as a something more interesting. This doesn’t preclude other people from  calling the doughnut-adjacent treat whatever they want. But it will never be the real thing for me.

Which brings us back to the hot dog debate.

If, as some skeptics claim, a hot dog is not a sandwich, I’d ask why the lowly sausage between two pieces of bread doesn’t deserve that appellation. If you slice a tomato, add some cheese, lettuce, and maybe a little turkey‚ then put it all between two pieces of mayo-slathered bread, is that a sandwich, or a chef salad?

I love doughnuts so much, I lent my addiction to the heroine in my Samantha Newman Series. Sam has been known to scarf down a few whenever she’s stressed. And in Book 3, The Body in the News, she manages to bond with a potential murder suspect over their shared appreciation of the glazed goodies.

Perhaps, one day all of us will settle our differences and agree on the same gastronomic appellation of a doughnut/pastry/cake thingy. Then, we could meet in the middle to share a baker’s dozen.

And from there, perhaps, move on to weightier subjects, like sharing Peace on Earth.

Where do you stand in the hot dog sandwich controversy? What about the doughnut/cake/pastry debate?

Gay Yellen’s award-winning writing career began in magazine journalism.  She later served as the contributing editor for the international thriller, Five Minutes to Midnight (Delacorte), which debuted as a New York Times “Notable.”

The Samantha Newman Mystery Series is packed with suspense and laced with touches of romance, heart, and humor. Available on Amazon or order through your favorite bookseller. 

 

Head shot author Kari Lee Townsend

Special Guest Author – Kari Lee Townsend

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by Sparkle Abbey

Head shot author Kari Lee TownsendToday we’re excited to welcome Kari Lee Townsend, a long time friend and national bestselling mystery author, who is going to tell us a bit about her writing process and her latest project.

Welcome, Kari!  We met you at a conference many moons ago and have been friends ever since, but for our blog readers who may not know you, would you please share a little bit about yourself? 

Hello! I’m Kari Lee Townsend—an upstate New Yorker at heart, from the Syracuse area where the winters are snowy, the summers are gorgeous, and the small-town charm never stops inspiring my stories. When I’m not writing, I’m usually spending time with my family, spoiling my 3 Samoyeds, traveling to lakeside towns and cozy villages for “research,” binge-watching reality TV, or designing fun graphics and reels for my books. I love everything whimsical, magical, and atmospheric…and it tends to seep right into my writing.

Now to some questions about how you got started writing, your favorite (and not so favorite) parts of it, and your process. 

  • What started you on your writing journey?

I’ve always been a storyteller. Even as a kid, I carried notebooks around and scribbled scenes and characters whenever inspiration struck. But the real push came when my children were young. I wanted a flexible career that allowed me to stay home with them while still doing something creative and fulfilling. Once I wrote my first book, I was hooked. I knew I had found my calling.

  • What do you write? And why did you choose that genre or sub-genre?

I write paranormal cozy mysteries, fantasy cozy mysteries, suspense, contemporary women’s fiction, and romantic comedies—stories filled with heart, humor, friendship, and a dash of magic or suspense. I’m drawn to these genres because they combine everything I love: quirky characters, tight-knit communities, twisty mysteries, emotional journeys, and worlds where magic or intuition lingers just beneath the surface. I adore creating stories that feel comforting yet thrilling, with characters who grow, love, stumble, and triumph right along with the reader.

  • What’s your favorite part of writing?

I love the moment when characters start talking in my head and taking on lives of their own. Worldbuilding is another favorite—crafting towns like Wishville, Divinity, Clearview, or Coldwater Cove, with their festivals, secrets, magical systems, and unique personalities. And of course, I love the “aha” moment when all the clues and twists finally click into place. All my books take place in the Northeast with the four seasons.

  • And what’s your least favorite part of writing?

The first draft. I love having written…but the actual drafting can feel like pulling teeth some days. I’m also not a big fan of the technical side—formatting, timelines, and continuity checks—though they’re necessary to keep everything running smoothly, especially across multi-book series. I love connecting with readers, but promoting a book can be scary and hard.

  • How much do you plan before you start a book?

I’m a hybrid. I like to plot enough to know the big turning points, emotional beats, and the overall arc of the mystery, but I leave plenty of room for spontaneity. My outlines grow and evolve as I write; they’re living documents. I need the structure, but I also love discovering surprises along the way.

  • Where do your very best ideas come from?

Everywhere. Festivals, places I visit, random conversations, dreams, Pinterest aesthetics, documentaries, and little “what if?” moments. I’m constantly inspired by folklore, history, small-town quirks, and the idea that magic might be hiding in plain sight.

  • What part of writing is the most difficult for you to write? 

For me, it’s slowing down to write deep emotional beats—especially grief, trauma, or the darker layers of a character’s past. I also find the middle of a book to be the trickiest, because that’s where everything must escalate without giving away too much.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us today.

And readers, we very excited as Kari’s latest is something a little bit different. Both cozy and fantasy in all the good ways. 

Kari,  what can you tell us about the book? 

Cover for the book A Well Kept Secret

The Well-Kept Secret, the first book in my new fantasy-cozy mystery series set in the enchanting town of Wishville, Vermont. The story follows Lyra Wells—half human, half Dweller—as she discovers her true heritage while investigating the mysterious death of a local man near the centuries-old wishing well. The book blends small-town charm, sparkling magic, a hint of romance, and a twisty mystery with deeper secrets tied to the Dweller realm of Elarion. There’s a love triangle brewing, a memory crystal connected to Lyra’s missing mother, a talking cat, a cast of quirky locals (including the delightfully chaotic Wellies), and a fragile treaty between two worlds that might unravel at any moment. It’s cozy, magical, atmospheric, and full of heart—an exciting beginning to the Wishville Mystery series. Out now.

We’ve already the first book: “The quirky town of Wishville, a delightful amateur sleuth and a police chief who’s not sure what he’s stumbled into make for an enchantingly different whodunnit. And then there’s the talking cat. I was charmed and can’t wait for the next book!” ~ Mary Lee aka Sparkle

And we don’t have long to wait! Up next is book two in the series, The Well-Laid Trap. 

This time, a beloved physical therapist goes missing, and Lyra Wells—half human, half Dweller—must uncover the truth while balancing a crack in the ancient Veiled Vault, her complicated feelings for two very different men, her judgmental talking cat Vex, and the chaotic Wellies who always manage to make things interesting. It’s atmospheric, twisty, heartfelt, and full of enchantment. And it comes out January 20, 2026.

Book cover for A Well-Laid TrapIn addition to this new series, Kari also writes two other cozy mystery series and also writes women’s fiction and suspense as Kari Lee Harmon. She is one busy lady!

You can find info on all her books on her website at :  https://www.karileetownsend.com

And you can connect with her on social media at:

Facebook

Bluesky

Instagram 

BookBub

Kari, thanks so much for stopping by the blog!  Great to “see” you and we hope to see you in real-life soon. Maybe at a conference?  

Just Another Saturday Night . . .

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Police light up another Saturday night

A high-pitched tone sounded over the crackle of the radio inside the cabin of the pickup truck. The driver’s eyes snapped to the computer screen mounted on the dash between us, then immediately returned focus to the road.

“Did you hear that? There’s been an accident. Backup requested.” He pointed to the screen displaying all the patrol cars in the area. “We’re closest.”

He responded over the radio, “Unit on its way.”

Earlier that Saturday evening, my ride-along with the police started quite calmly with a tour of the department. The officer assigned to me, I’ll call him Officer D, explained the workings of the dispatch center. Dispatchers are the equivalent of the central nervous system, akin to air traffic controllers, communicating and coordinating with everyone in the field. The law enforcement technology is impressive for a city of our size – drones, a backup emergency dispatch center, a mini-forensic lab, and countywide shared radio frequencies to facilitate actions across departments. I asked for a tour of holding cells, where people await transfer to the county jail. I’ll spare you the details of what the officers deal with inside those cells but wearing a hazmat suit wouldn’t be overkill.

My ride for the evening was a souped-up Ford F250, faster than their regular patrol cars. Think of riding in the cockpit of an airplane and you’ll get the idea – interior and exterior cameras, license plate readers, computer, a display tracking all units. Unlike an airplane, the back seat is equipped with a single-prisoner transport, and the truck bed holds LED traffic cones and deployable spikes.

Our first stop of the evening occurred before we left the parking lot. A lost set of car keys was duly logged using the on-board software. I never realized how much of today’s policing is paperwork, often taking hours after a shift ends.

The action picked up with a report of a man throwing rocks at cars. From prior encounters, Officer D had an idea of who the man was, and we patrolled his neighborhood without seeing him.

Next stop: a drive through a park frequented by groups at night, many of whom often had active warrants. After an uneventful patrol of the perimeter, Officer D pulled over less than 50 feet away from a four-way intersection to enter a report. As he was typing, he said, “Watch. Someone’s going to run that stop sign.”

I laughed. No way. The sun was still up and the Ford F250 with it light bar and emblems was highly conspicuous. Within less than a minute, and true to Officer D’s prediction, a car blew past the stop sign. We followed the car until we could safely pull it over. Officer D recognized the driver, whom he’d given a verbal warning a few months earlier. The hurry this time? The man was rushing to a baby shower at 7:30 on a Saturday night. Officer D let him go with a written warning. The next time the driver would get a ticket.

As we patrolled a residential neighborhood, I peppered the officer with questions about his job and training. How did the long hours and stress impact his personal life? He shared that the pain of a fistfight with three large drug-dealers didn’t compare to the heartbreak of trying— and failing —to save a baby that had stopped breathing. What about the effect on his own family? Officer D uses an app that lets his wife monitor his heartbeat real time.

When the implications of his statement sank in, I changed the subject. I learned he was a taser instructor, a weapon near and dear to some of the characters in my novel. He described being hit by one during training, not an experience to repeat. Did you know? Different propellants can fire the prongs up to 100 feet. Another interesting tidbit about pepper spray: Police departments now use water-based versus oil-based sprays. Turns out certain kinds of pepper sprays are highly flammable, and a taser hit can ignite the suspect.

A high-pitched tone interrupted his taser lecture.

“Did you hear that? There’s been an accident. Backup requested.” Officer D pointed to the screen displaying all the patrol cars in the area. “We’re closest.”

He responded over the radio, “Unit on its way.”

The wreck happened on a busy highway cutting through the town. One vehicle, no fatalities. With a few taps on the screen, a route appeared, and we accelerated past cars that decided to slow to a crawl with a marked police vehicle in their rearview mirror.

As we turned onto the highway, Officer D unhooked his seatbelt, a move that didn’t seem safe. He explained, “That was my sergeant on the radio. I heard stress in her voice. And I don’t want to get tangled in my seatbelt if I need to get out of the truck in a hurry.”

Lights on, we pulled behind two other patrol cars and a fire engine. A car had launched from the highway, through a brick sign, and landed upright on the other side of a ditch.

“Stay here,” Officer D ordered and jumped out. By some miracle, the driver, highly intoxicated, was ambulatory with only minor injuries. He proved to be an amiable drunk who knew the drill and went along with the officer’s instructions peacefully. With the driver arrested and in handcuffs, Officer D placed him in the truck’s transport cell behind me, and we drove to the nearest hospital.

I spent the rest of the evening in the emergency room with Officer D and his sergeant as they filled out paperwork and waited on third party EMT’s to do a timely blood draw. We weren’t alone. Other police officers and their arrestees soon trickled into the emergency room.

Then another high-pitched tone sounded over their hand radios. A shooting on the other side of town.

Just another Saturday night . . .

 

***

Brooke TerpeningBrooke Terpening – A former software geek and attorney, today I’m retired in Colorado with my husband. As a Miami attorney, some of the notable capital cases I worked on included Casey Anthony, Ariel Hernandez, and Michel Escoto. A graduate of the Lighthouse Book Project, I serve on the Rocky Mountain Chapter of Mystery Writers of America board as their newsletter editor. When I’m not writing mystery and legal suspense, I volunteer with my therapy dogs at hospitals, police departments, and mental health facilities.

Bucket List: Blue Rodeo

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Blue Rodeo, Jim Cuddy at the mic

I don’t have a huge bucket list of places I want to go or concerts I want to see. Part of the reason is that I tend to do things I want to do, if I can afford to do them. The other reason is I have few wants, and those that I do have tend to be simple. But one of my bucket list wants has been to see Blue Rodeo live in concert. Admittedly, many of you reading this won’t even have heard of Blue Rodeo. They’re a Canadian band, been together 40 years, but they never really hit it big in the U.S. But in Canada…well, they are legendary.

Like any band of longstanding, Blue Rodeo has had changes in band members. The exception is the frontmen — singer/songwriters/high school friends Jim Cuddy and Greg Keelor. They have very different vocals, but both are immensely talented — but once you hear Jim Cuddy’s voice, you’ll never forget it.

The long story short on this post is that Blue Rodeo actually came to Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, where I live, in October. They played at the local hockey area to a full house of about 6,000 diehard fans. I knew it might be a risk — we’re always told not to meet our idols (or in this case, go to see our favourite band live) but I took a chance and…

Blue Rodeo played for 2 hours straight, including five of my favourite songs: Try, Bad Timing, Five Days in May, Lost Together, and Bulletproof.

And I’m no casual fan…I’ve included mentions of them in several of my novels, and even wrote a Facts in Fiction post about them on my website. You can access that here to learn more: FACTS IN FICTION: BLUE RODEO. And in case you don’t want to do that, here are some excerpts from three of my novels:

Excerpt from A Hole in One: A Glass Dolphin Mystery #2

“I’ve got to get back to Lount’s Landing. Can you point me in the direction of Union Station?” Kevin stood up. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll walk you there.”

They were within spitting distance of Union Station when Emily noticed Chloe strutting toward them, chest thrust out, hands on hips, her black spandex tights and leopard-print top accentuating every curve. How long had she been following them? Since they’d passed her gym the first time? Or on the way back? Emily didn’t know and was relieved to find out that she didn’t care.

Unless, of course, Chloe knew more about Marc Larroquette than she had shared with Kevin.

Damn it. She’d have talk to Chloe.

But not today. Today, Chloe was Kevin’s problem. Emily patted Kevin’s arm, letting her hand linger slightly longer than necessary, then gave him a peck on the cheek.

She wound her way through the throng of commuters to Platform 26, humming Bad Timing by Blue Rodeo. It was time to go home.

Want to hear Bad Timing? Watch the official YouTube video with Jim Cuddy on lead vocals.

Excerpt from Where There’s a Will: A Glass Dolphin Mystery #3

The DJ began playing Blue Rodeo’s Lost Together, a cue for Luke and Emily to take center stage for their first dance before inviting others to join in. Arabella pushed back a tear, watched the dance floor fill up, and contemplated the pairings.

Want to hear Lost Together?  Watch the official YouTube video with Greg Keelor on lead vocals.

And finally, from Past & Present: A Marketville Mystery #2

I hung up and found myself humming a few bars of “To Make You Feel My Love.” I thought about the Barnstable family curse and laughed. More like “Bad Timing” by Blue Rodeo. Hell, almost anything by Blue Rodeo, especially if Jim Cuddy was the one singing it. That man had a voice made for sad songs.

Maybe this time would be different. I started humming again.

And my all-time fave? Bulletproof with lead vocals by Jim Cuddy, courtesy of YouTube.

Thanks for listening.

Inspiring First Lines by Saralyn Richard

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According to Stephen King, “An opening line should invite the reader to begin the story. It should say: Listen. Come in here. You want to know about this.” Much has been written about the importance of the first line of a novel. And lists of the best first lines grace the internet with abundance.

Here are a few that top lists regularly:

  1. Pride and Prejudice: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. (This line sets the tone for the book, which is witty and dry. The book is going to be fun.)
  2. One Hundred Years of Solitude: Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. (The line suggests setting, particularly time, and invites the reader to invest in the story of a criminal who faces a firing squad.)
  3. Anna Karenina: Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. (The dichotomy of happy and sad families reads like a truism, setting up the reader to enter the life of an unhappy family.)
  4. Gravity’s Rainbow: A screaming comes across the sky. (The mixture of sound imagery—screaming—and the visual of the distant sky, too far to hear any screaming anyway, creates a puzzle that the reader wants to solve. What is causing the screaming, and what must be done to stop it?)
  5. 1984: It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. (April is not typically cold, and clocks can’t strike thirteen, so what is going on in this world?)
  6. Invisible Man: I am an invisible man. (How did you become invisible, and what strange adventures will you take me to?)
  7. Miss Lonelyhearts. The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble? Do-you-need-advice? Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard. (The word, “his,” knocks this opener into a light and humorous setting and character.)
  8. The Metamorphosis: One morning, as Gregor Samsa awoke from anxious dreams, he discovered that during the night he had been transformed into a monstrous bug. (The foreign-sounding name, anxious dreams, and monstrous bug build tension and raise the reader’s level of concern from the ordinary to the horrible.)
  9. The Nightingale: If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are. (The author offers wisdom from experience, and the story will be partly about love and partly about war. We suspect the war parts will test us, and we brace for the difficult ride ahead.)

Photo by Kaptured by Kasia on Unsplash

What makes these first lines notable? Each one carries a heavy load. In a few words, it sets the stage and the tone for the story to come. It hooks the reader’s attention, sometimes with an unusual or surprising statement. It provides information, but it raises more questions than it answers. For example, “I am an invisible man,” sets up questions about how the narrator became invisible, what it is like to be invisible, and where this unlikely narrator is going to take us.

The opening line sets up the reader’s first impression of the book. A tentative reader might read the opening line to test whether to commit to reading the entire book. It’s like taking a tiny bite of an unfamiliar food. If the smell, taste, and texture are pleasant, the taster will likely swallow the bite and ask for more. Similarly, if the first line is clever, pithy, emotionally welcoming, or memorable, it bodes well for the reader’s consumption of the whole book.

A strong opening line plants the seed of curiosity and puts the reader in touch with the writer. For example, “One morning, as Gregor Samsa awoke from anxious dreams, he discovered that during the night he had been transformed into a monstrous bug,” startles the reader (because this has never happened to anyone in real life that we know of), and takes him into a fantasy world where people have anxious dreams and face disgusting realities. The reader wonders how this could have happened to Gregor Samsa, and how he is going to reverse it. The reader suspends his disbelief and allows Kafka to lead him into the harsh world he has built.

I’ve done a lot of study about first lines, and this is what I’ve learned. They are really hard to write! The pressure to create something appealing and effective, to introduce the setting-plot-character-tone, and to instill questions in the mind of the reader is often overwhelming.

Here are a few of my first lines:

  1. Quinn’s family often joked about death, but this summer, death stopped being funny. –BAD BLOOD SISTERS
  2. Naughty? Me? I’m just a sheepdog pup who wants to have fun. –NAUGHTY NANA
  3. Late summer had painted the Brandywine Valley green, and dawn was coming up orange, but this early Monday morning in August ushered in the blues—the baby blues. –MURDER OUTSIDE THE BOX
  4. Late summer had painted the Brandywine Valley green, and dawn was coming up orange, but this early Monday morning in August ushered in the blues—the baby blues.
  5. Sundays usually meant good luck. –MURDER IN THE ONE PERCENT

Each one of these sentences probably took me at least five hours to write. I often say it’s easier to write a whole book than it is to write an opening line.

What do you think? Do the sample opening lines carry the heavy load they need to? What is your favorite or most memorable opening line?

 

Saralyn Richard (https://saralynrichard.com) is a multiple award-winning author of seven mystery novels, a children’s book, and numerous short stories, poems, and essays published in anthologies and magazines. She edited the book, Burn Survivors, which was published by the University of Texas Medical Branch in both English and Spanish.

Saralyn is an active member of Mystery Writers of America and International Thriller Writers, where she leads an international writers’ critique group. She has taught literature and creative writing to high school students and to adults through the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. Saralyn and her husband live in Texas in the house she grew up in.

 

 

Why I Do What I Do

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People often ask me where I get my ideas for my stories, or how I develop my characters, or if I outline my plots or make them up as I go along. But I’ve never been asked the question: “Why do you write?” The easy answer is I write to make people laugh and to make people think.

On a personal level, writing is a coping mechanism for me. We live in troubled and uncertain times. Things change quickly. Information flashes across our screens faster than we can process it. For someone who grew up in the 1950s, this can be particularly overwhelming at times. The cliché “runaway train” is an apt description of how I often feel about today’s fast-paced world.

Entering the world of make-believe puts me in control, letting me call the shots and create a better world—a world, as in the case of my Kate Caraway Mystery series, where the underdog wins and the bad guys are taught a bitter lesson. This series focuses on animal rights, a social cause I am passionate about. My inspiration came from when I lived in Austin, where I volunteered as a rehabber for Wild Life Rescue, an organization that raised and cared for injured and orphaned wildlife. I used that experience as the basis for my books. Run Dog Run addresses greyhound racing, which was still an active sport at the time. I am pleased to say that, over the last few years, it has been in decline. The Greyhound Protection Act of 2025 has been introduced to Congress. If passed, it will prohibit commercial greyhound racing, live lure training, and open field coursing. A Two Horse Town deals with saving a herd of wild mustangs in Montana, and Eagle Crossing features an eagle rehabilitation facility in danger of being shut down.

My Sydney Lockhart mysteries are lighthearted, humorous, cozy stories set in the 1950s at various historic hotels. Sydney is a young woman striving to succeed as a private detective in a male-dominated world. I’ve just finished the seventh book, which will be published next spring. Throughout her adventures, Sydney has gathered a cast of quirky characters who, in her view, can sometimes be more trouble than they’re worth.

Both of my series feature strong women striving to make a positive difference in the world.

I like to think of these stories as the perfect remedy for someone who has had a tough day at work. For me, when I sit down to write them, I can feel the tension in my shoulders ease. Whatever technical issues I had to deal with that day became important. Bad news suddenly doesn’t seem so bad. My breathing slows, and I smile. Sometimes I even do a happy dance.

That’s a darn good reason to write, don’t you think?

donalee Moulton

A life well lived – highlights and hiccups

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by donalee Moulton

I was recently asked about life’s pleasures as a writer, and otherwise. I thought I’d share some of my likes and dislikes with you. I would love to hear what you’d say to these.

Things you never want to run out of: Chocolate, sweat pants, downward dogs

Things you wish you’d never bought: White chocolate, stilettos, a gym membership

Hardest thing about being a writer: Writing

Easiest thing about being a writer: Talking about writing with other writers

Favorite foods: Miso chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, baked gnocchi

Things that make you want to gag: Snails (even if you call it “escargot”), lima beans, coconut

Favorite music or song: I like music I can move to or with lyrics that move me

Music that drives you crazy: Opera (sadly)

Last best thing you ate: Cider doughnuts

Last thing you regret eating: Some waxy wrap thing with shredded carrots

The last thing you ordered online: A catio for Wiley Bob so he can safely go out in the sunshine

The last thing you regret buying: A wool winter coat that’s itchy to look at and itchy to wear

Things you always put in your books: Humor

Things you never put in your books: Blood, guts, gore (at least so far)

Favorite places you’ve been: Sable Island, Thailand, Sweden

Places you never want to go to again: Yoga retreats with yurts

Favorite books (or genre): Charlotte’s Web, Where the Crawdad’s Sing, The Marriages Between Zones Three, Four, and Five

Books you wouldn’t buy: Horror

Best thing you’ve ever done: Written books and stories and poems and articles

Biggest mistake: Going to the opera ties with joining a gym

The nicest thing a reader said to you: One reader posted a picture of themselves lounging in the sun reading Hung Out to Die. They captioned it “Perfect afternoon.”

The craziest thing a reader said to you: Some readers see sexual tension between two characters in Hung Out to Die. I just don’t see it.

Some real-life story that made it to one of your books: I can get up off the floor without using my hands. So can one of my characters.

Something in your story that readers think is about you, but it’s not: Love of coffee. I don’t drink caffeine. 

My Accidental Career

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Have you ever bluffed your way into a job?

In my ongoing task of digging through the overwhelming amount of my family’s old photos and papers to form some semblance of an organized archive, I’ve recently encountered episodes of my life that I haven’t thought about in years. Including the one that turned me into a professional writer.

It started with accepting an emergency assignment for a job I knew nothing about.

One Friday morning in L.A., a friend called me at work to ask if I could fill in for a journalist who was scheduled to cover the opening of a new tennis camp in Lake Tahoe over the weekend. Apparently, the designated reporter fell ill at the last minute, and the magazine was desperate to find a replacement.

Would I take the gig?

I knew zero about the game of tennis, but the magazine didn’t know that. They hadn’t asked. That’s how desperate they were.

The job meant a few extra bucks for me, and I had no weekend plans. So, that evening, I borrowed a racket from a friend, packed a bag and boarded the next puddle jumper from L.A. to Tahoe to cover the event.

This was in pre-Internet days, so there was no way for me to access information about the game of tennis or the new camp, a reality that hadn’t sunk in until I was on the plane. I told myself that a reporter’s job was just to ask questions, which helped calm my nerves. After all, I’d written lots of reports in high school and college. What could be so hard about writing this one?

By the time I arrived, it was almost midnight. I’d already missed the welcome dinner and any chance to find out anything in advance of  tomorrow’s Opening Day’s activities.

The first thing I learned when I arrived at the courts the next morning was that the camp’s purpose was to teach tennis professionals how to teach tennis. All the attendees were accomplished players. All fifteen or so of them were there to get certified as tennis pros at various country clubs around the nation. Since they were already seasoned athletes, the training was sure to be exceedingly rigorous. And I was expected to participate.

After a long and excruciating first day on the court, I was ready for bed as soon as the sun set. When I woke the next morning, my legs were completely in spasm. I rolled off the bed onto the floor and belly-crawled to the bathroom, then hoisted myself into the bathtub. After a few minutes of soaking in warm water, the cramps relaxed just enough for me to hobble to the courts in time for a second round of torture. All the pros were already warming up, practicing their sleek forehands, twisty backhands, powerful overhead smashes, cunning lobs, and the rest of the words in my new sports vocabulary.

I returned to L.A., turned in my report, and collected the check. The next month, Tennis Illustrated  published the article. A few weeks later, they called to ask if I’d be interested in being their editor. The offer was almost twice what my job as Assistant to the Director of Production at The American Film Institute paid, so I accepted.

And then I really panicked. I wasn’t really sure what an editor did. And all I knew about the tennis world was from those two days at the resort. How could I possibly run the magazine?

Luckily, the friend who had loaned me his racket came to the rescue again. Not only did he know tennis, but he’d also been the editor of his college newspaper. He gave me his extra racket along with a manual of editorial squiggles (which I came to learn were called “proofreaders’ marks”) so I’d know how to mark copy.

That is how, while I was still in my twenties, my life as a professional writer began. After a couple of years of covering big tournaments and interviewing tennis greats, I moved on to the masthead of a lifestyle magazine, where I earned a national journalism award. And then I turned to writing novels, which also happened to me out of the blue. But that’s a story for another time.

Today, with my multi-award-winning Samantha Newman Mystery Series—and beloved writing colleagues all over the country—I’m thrilled to be part of the publishing community. And I’m working on another book. But that is another story for another time.

To all the aspiring writers out there, keep writing. You never know when good luck might lead you to your best life.

Gay Yellen’s award-winning writing career began in magazine journalism.  She later served as the contributing writer for the international thriller, Five Minutes to Midnight (Delacorte), which debuted as a New York Times “Notable.”

Her multi-award-winning Samantha Newman Mystery Series is packed with suspense and laced with touches of romance, heart, and humor. Available on Amazon or through your favorite bookseller. 

What Do the Girls Have to Say About the Guy?

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A Guest Post by Author M.E. Proctor

Ten years ago, when the character of Declan Shaw, a Houston PI, popped into my head, I didn’t give a second thought to the fact that I’d just committed myself to write, from a male perspective, what could become a series. It didn’t bother me. I wanted to try my hand at a detective story featuring in the main role a bruised romantic shamus, a classic updated for the 21st century.

I completed a first manuscript (full disclosure: that attempt will never be published; it was a trial run) and gave it to my husband. He’s a brilliant writer and my first beta reader. He said he enjoyed the story and proceeded to criticize it down to the bone. It’s good to have a fierce reviewer at home; once you’ve cleared that hurdle there’s nothing the world can throw at you that’ll make you flinch. He picked up two dialogue excerpts and commented: “A guy would never say that.”

Out of a 300-page story, I thought that was a pretty good score. It also made me aware of the stumbling blocks that our subconscious takes pleasure in throwing in our path. Note to self: Guys don’t giggle, unless they’re Tommy Udo and about to push a lady down the staircase. Not the mood I was going for … I fixed the dialogue and toughened it up.

We’re quite a few years later now. I have a ton of short stories under my belt, a retro-noir novella written in collaboration (Bop City Swing) where I take the part of the hardboiled cop and my writing partner, Russell Thayer, is in the female assassin’s head, and two Declan Shaw novels. Girls or guys, pumps or brogues, I’ll slip into the shoes the story calls for.

Except …

In Catch Me on a Blue Day, Book 2 of the Declan Shaw series, my PI gets very close and very personal with Isabel, a cute art gallery manager.

I’ve written quite a few seduction/sex scenes and I’m not new to the challenge, but the story required this one to jump higher in the temperature range than I’d gone before. I could have written it from Declan’s point of view—there’s another scene with Isabel in the book that gives him quite a kick—but for this particular one, I thought I could do more from the girl’s perspective. It’s a decision that changed the structure of the book.

The Declan stories are mostly told from his standpoint. Secondary points of view come into play, out of narrative necessity (for example, I put him in the ICU in Book 1, Love You Till Tuesday, and the plot couldn’t remain frozen for a week).

In this case, changing the angle to Isabel gave me an opportunity to put a different light on the main character, and reveal things about him that would never have surfaced otherwise. He’s a very controlled guy and she pushes his buttons so hard he loses his footing.

Next to Isabel’s star turn, I also gave voice to two other female characters who play a major role in the story. They form the other points of a triangle with Declan in the middle, in the crossbeams, and they balance the narrative.

The first one is Jean. She’s old enough to be his mother and would love to slip into a protective role. She does it, in a harrowing scene, and Declan accepts her help, but he remains reticent and unwilling to let her in too close. She sees herself as a nest builder, and he is a drifting soul. Their alliance can only be temporary.

The second one is Kate, close in age to Declan and Isabel. Fiercely independent, wary of emotional entanglements, and dealing with a troubled past. Her sister was murdered thirty years ago, a death that destroyed the family. Kate never knew the girl; she was only two at the time. She doesn’t open up to people easily, and her trust is hard to win. She’d like to see Declan as some noble defender, but he’s a bit wobbly.

Seen through the eyes of these three women, Declan’s character gains new dimensions.

I enjoyed trading his cowboy boots for Isabel’s sandals, Jean’s sensible shoes, and Kate’s wellies … for a little while.

Catch Me on a Blue Day
A Declan Shaw Mystery, Book 2

“For Ella and all the innocents slain by soulless men.”

It’s the dedication of the book on the Salvadoran civil war retired reporter Carlton Marsh was writing before he committed suicide.

A shocking death. Marsh had asked Declan Shaw to come to Old Mapleton, Connecticut to help him with research. He looked forward to Declan’s visit: “See you at cocktail time, a fine whiskey’s waiting.” They talked on the phone a few hours before the man put a bullet in his brains.

Now Declan stands in the office of the local police chief. The cop would prefer to see him fly back to Houston. He’s never dealt with a private detective, but everybody knows they are trouble. If only there weren’t so many unanswered questions around Marsh’s death … the haunting first three chapters of his book, and that dedication to Ella, a girl whose murder thirty years ago brought the town to its knees.

In Catch Me on a Blue Day, Declan is far from his regular Texas stomping grounds. He’s off balance in more ways than one, and the crimes he uncovers are of a magnitude he could not foresee.

Between the sins of an old New England town and the violence of 1980s El Salvador. And the links between the two.

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M.E. Proctor was born in Brussels and lives in Texas. She’s the author of the Declan Shaw detective mysteries: Love You Till Tuesday and Catch Me on a Blue Day. She’s also the author of a short story collection, Family and Other Ailments, and the co-author of a retro-noir novella, Bop City Swing. Her fiction has appeared in anthologies and magazines like Vautrin, Tough, Rock and a Hard Place, Bristol Noir, Mystery Tribune, Reckon Review, and Black Cat Weekly among others. She’s a Shamus and Derringer short story nominee.