Livia J. Washburn's Blog, page 9

Reviews For The Gingerbread Bump-Off

Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book: Livia J. Washburn is a wonderful storyteller and I love the adventures she takes us on with her characters. They are exciting and this one had quite a complicated plot with plenty of suspects.  


Deb's Book Bag: Washburn's intrepid amateur sleuth Phyllis Newsom is such a gem. She's a retired teacher, an avid baker, and a senior with some attitude. Readers will fall in love with her spunky demeanor and her zest for life. 

The Gingerbread Bump-Off Review

The Gingerbread Bump-Off received a great review.
This is the latest of Livia Washburn's "Fresh-Baked Mysteries," and it's another winner. Pretty soon, Phyllis Newsom is going to have to quit thinking about entering baking contests, though. Too many people get killed when she does.
You can read the rest of the review here and you can buy the trade paperback for a discounted price following the link below.

Using My Career To Get Things Fixed

Yesterdaywas the first time I threatened a company with my career.  I have an embroiderysewing machine that I bought to use as a stress release.  Somethingfun.  It would sew just fine, then start bunching the thread underneathruining whatever I was sewing.  
I took it in for repairs, and it took 4 weeks, and$132 to get it back.  Of course what they supposedly had to replace wasn'tcovered under warranty.  Took the machine home and sewed one test embroidery before it starteddoing the same thing again ruining the thing I was making for mydaughter's birthday, which is tomorrow.  
I took it back yesterday, Halloween.  This was definitely a trick or treat and I definitely wasn't going to get a treat.  They said their repair guy was lousy and they were having to return a lot that he fixed or didn't fix.  Guy there said he'd look at it and see if he could tell what was causing it.  I waited there for about an hour, he was busy and didn't have time to look at it.  My husband, James and I went to lunch.
I had brought James to lift the machine.  It is pretty heavy and I have back problems.  So we were both losing a day of work.
After lunch we killed more time at a couple stores in the area.  Bought some Christmas stuff at the dollar store, bought crickets for my daughter's lizard.  Finally we were running out of time.  James had a dental appointment back in our town, so we went back to see if the guy was able to figure out anything.
He hadn't been able to look at it.  They only pick up repairs on Tuesday, and since this was Monday it had to go in the next morning or wait a week.  He said I could send it in, but itwould be gone another 4 weeks and chances were it wouldn't be fixed since the same guy would be working on it.  He suggested another guy down the street.  I would have to pay again, but he was a whiz at sewing machine repair.  
At this point I was desperate just to get it fixed.  We hurriedly took it there, waiting while he promptly fixed another lady's machine.  He looked at my machine and said hecouldn't work on it, he couldn't get parts, and it would null thewarranty.  He suggested I complain higher up.  The place I took it before should have to fix it and fix it free.
I took it back to thefirst place and left it knowing it'd be a month before I'd see it again, but maybe I'd get it back fixed just before the holidays.  We barely made it back in time for James' appointment.  But then it started really bugging me the way I was given the run around.  
I'm not great at calling and complaining, so I emailed the main office andsaid I was a bestselling author (hey publisher puts it on my books, so it mustbe true, right?) and I would use my blog, facebook, twitter, yahoo groups, and would even put it in my next book how bad their machine was if I didn't get a repairedmachine back.  This machine has been giving trouble more than half the time I've had it and I was pretty fed up at this point.  Two hours later I get a call from the manager where Idropped it off.  I was told the machine would be sent in on high priority,would be back next week, fixed, and free.  I wonder if it's not fixed if Icould get a new machine out of them.  Evil writer thoughts.  You will notice I did not mention the name of the machine and I definitely won't in a negative light, if it's fixed.  I might even write about how good a machine it is, if it is fixed.  I've even thought about writing a mystery centered around embroidery.  You get the idea . . . if it's fixed.

Gingerbread Bump-Off Gets Unfair Review

Gingerbread Bump-Off is just out and the first review on it is a 1-star because of someone who thought they were being smart.  This is the review - if this title was releaased yesterday-why will it take one to three months to receive it?? does not make sense.


I ask you what does this have to do with the book?  This is not a review and now I'm starting out with 1 star.  Not fair.


Anyway, here's the book description:  A Christmas killer has been icing Phylis Newsom's friends in the sixth Fresh-Baked mystery.


Not only will Phyllis Newsom's house be featured in the annual Christmas Jingle Bell Tour of Homes, she also has a Christmas Eve bridal shower and a New Year's Eve wedding to bake goodies for. But like her tasty treats, she rises to the occasion.

Before the tour gets under way, Phyllis makes a gruesome discovery on her porch: someone has tried to kill her friend. As Santa's naughty list gets longer, Phyllis tries to catch a half-baked killer.

Recipe From The Pumpkin Muffin Murder

You can find the recipe for pumpkin cheesecake muffins here from The Pumpkin Muffin Murder along with some very nice photos.  The book came out last year in trade paperback is coming out in mass market paperback November 1st.  The trade paperback is presently 60% off at Amazon.

Twice As Deadly by Livia J. Washburn

Laura Bailey is a young woman struggling to establish herself as a private detective following the death of her father, a veteran PI who established the agency where she works. Set in a vividly depicted Dallas during the 1980s, the two novellas collected in this volume are action-packed private eye stories by one of the top authors in the genre, L.J. Washburn, the creator of the iconic PI character Lucas Hallam.

"Ancient and Deadly" originally appeared in THE BLACK MOON, published by Lynx Books. This is the first publication of "Deadly Performance".



Includes a new afterword. 45,000 words. Available for Kindle and Nook.

Nice Review of Witch Got Your Tongue

Anna Dougherty wrote a very nice review of Witch Got Your Tongue at Vamp Chix Bite Club.



. . . this is an excellent end of summer beach type read, something to relax with, a brief repast from everyday stresses.

Sample Sunday ♫ WITCH GOT YOUR TONGUE by Livia J. Washburn

Chapter One
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Then I had to tug up the neckline of the costume to make sure my boobs didn't pop out, being careful I didn't pull so much my panties showed. I'd been doing that all day. Even though it was Halloween, I couldn't believe that on my very first day on this job I'd been sent out dressed like a sexy witch in this skimpy costume.

It was gold with a black spider web design and had a tight orange corset with little black paw prints, cut low in front, and the fluttery skirt was so short the hemline was practically up to my butt. I wore fishnet stockings and high heels with it (although I had a pair of comfortable shoes in my car for driving between jobs). A tall, pointed, cliché witch hat that matched the corset sat on my head. I guess I looked okay. My boss at the agency seemed to think so. I've never been one for wearing racy outfits.

I reached out and pressed the doorbell of the suburban house. It was late afternoon, almost evening. Kids would start trick-or-treating soon. Meanwhile, I had a treat – or was it a trick? – of my own to deliver to the guy who lived here.

The door swung open, and the man who answered my ring stood there with his eyes widening at the sight of the sexy witch on his doorstep. He was in his mid-thirties and looked like a high school athlete gone slightly to seed. He had come in from work and shed his coat, but he still wore his tie. It was loosened and his collar was unbuttoned, but he hadn't gotten rid of it entirely yet. He had a drink in his left hand.

"Are you R-Ronnie Holt?" I asked.

"Yeahhhh," he said, sounding like he didn't know what to make of me.

I put what I hoped was a seductive smile on my face and said, "I've g-got something for you."

Stop right there. I know what you're thinking. I wasn't a hooker, no matter how I was dressed. I wasn't a process server, either, which is probably what the less dirty-minded of you were thinking.

No, as Ronnie Holt's surprised stare started to turn into a hopeful leer, I began to sing. I was scared to death, but I forced the words out anyway.

"The only sight I ever wouldst see

"Love of my life thou wouldst be

"All I need to fill my heart

"And you promised we ne'er would part . . ."

Ronnie's grin got even bigger.

"But after I shared with you my bed

"You'd call me in the morning, you said

"But still I wait for your call

"I don't think you meant it at all . . ."

The grin disappeared, replaced by the beginnings of a frown.

"Now I see what was really your goal

"I'm just another notch on your bed pole

"And since you deigned to break my heart

"Now I break your proudest part

"Shorn of that which you love most

"Soon you'll be as pale as a ghost

"There's always a price for what you do

"And now I make it all come true!"

I threw in a few mystical gestures, just for effect.

"What the hell is this?" Ronnie demanded, visibly angry now.

"C-Compliments of Miss Angela Vandermeer," I said. I reached into the bosom of my outfit and pulled out a business card. That was the only place in the costume to carry one. CATHCART ENTERTAINMENT AGENCY was printed on it, and below that in smaller print were the words CHILDREN'S PARTIES – CLOWNS – BALLOONS – SINGING TELEGRAMS – ADULT STRIP-O-GRAMS, then the address, phone number, website, and email.

Hold a business card out to people, and nine times out of ten they'll take it. Ronnie did, looked at it, and got even angrier.

"What the hell!" he yelled. "Angie paid you people to . . . to put a curse on me?"

I took a step back. I had worried that he might not take it well, but Sherry, my new boss, had said that people always laughed these things off, even the mean messages. Ronnie Holt sure wasn't laughing, though.

"It . . . it's just a singing telegram," I said. "A j-joke. Miss Vandermeer is your . . . ex-girlfriend, right?"

"I had drinks with her one time! Yeah, we had a little fun together, but that doesn't make her my girlfriend! Now she's hiring people to stalk me? She's crazy!"

I backed away some more, being careful not to step off the porch and fall.

"I'm not stalking you, Mr. Holt. I'm just d-doing my job. It's just a j-joke," I said again.

"It sounded like you were putting a curse on me."

I shook my head and said hurriedly, "Oh, no, not at all. Just a joke." I pointed at the business card he still had in his hand. "And if you'd like to send a reply to her, you can just c-call that number or visit the w-w-website – "

"Get off my porch before I call the cops!" he roared at me.

I backed quickly down the steps, hoping I wouldn't trip on those blasted high heels. "I'm sorry," I said. "I was just doing my job – "

He blew out his breath in exasperation, stepped back into the house, and slammed the door behind him.

Well, that was a lousy way to end my first day on this job, I thought. But at least it was over. I had survived. And for the most part, it had been okay. A lot better than I'd expected when I went into Sherry Cathcart's office that morning with the referral from the temp agency I was signed up with.

"We need another sexy witch," she'd said. "Halloween is our second-busiest day of the year for singing telegrams, after Valentine's Day, and everybody wants a sexy witch."

"I d-don't think I can do that," I'd told her as I shook my head. "I won't do strip-o-grams."

"Honey, you're not listening. This isn't strip-o-grams I'm talking about." She looked me up and down. "Although you could handle that job, if you get my drift. I'm talking about singing telegrams."

"I c-can't do that, either." I'd hated to come right out and say it, but I had to. "I stutter."

"Eh, not bad, from what I'm hearing."

I thought she was wrong about that. It always sounded terrible to me when I tried to talk, especially to strangers.

"Anyway, try this," she went on. "Sing do, ra, mi."

I had almost walked out then and there, but I needed the job. I took a deep breath and sang the notes. They came out surprisingly clear and strong.

"See?" Sherry had said. "People with a stammer can sometimes sing just fine. Remember Mel Tillis?"

I shook my head.

"Never mind, he was before your time. He was a country singer. Had a bad stammer, but he sang beautifully. You can, too."

"I don't know . . ."

"It's all confidence, dear. You got that, you can do anything."

But that was the problem, although Sherry didn't know my history to be aware of it. I had no confidence. Zero. Zip. Nada. Never had, never would. As far back as I could remember, every time I struggled to force words out of my mouth, the more I just wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and never say anything to anybody. I had tried to fight that over the years by forcing myself into situations where I had to talk, but it had never worked.

"With your looks you'll make decent tips. And you'll look great in the costume," Sherry went on. "You'll be delivering telegrams mostly to guys, so trust me, when they see those curves and all that gorgeous black hair, they won't be paying that much attention to what you're saying anyway."

I suppose she was just trying to make me feel better about myself, but it didn't work that well. I'd always thought my curves were rather modest, and my hair was okay but nothing spectacular. Also, I wasn't that fond of guys leering at me all day.

"Most of the time our clients are wives or girlfriends who want to send a surprise to their husbands or boyfriends," Sherry continued. "I won't lie to you, there'll probably be some hooting and hollering when you go into these offices to deliver telegrams, but it's not too bad. You'll get used to it real quick, and then you'll be disappointed if you don't get a reaction."

I had a hard time believing that. I'd spent most of my life doing my best not to get noticed.

I could tell she was getting a little tired of trying to convince me. She confirmed that by saying, "Anyway, do you want the job or not? If I have to get somebody else, I need to see about it right away."

It wasn't really a matter of whether I wanted the job. I needed the job. My roommates had been carrying me for a couple of months now, and even though they were friends – especially because they were friends – I couldn't keep depending on them like that.

"I want it," I said.

"Good. You'll do great, trust me." Sherry got up from her desk and went to a rack of assorted costumes that stood against the wall. She took one of them down and held the hanger out to me. "Here's what you'll be wearing."

"Where's the rest of it?" I had asked with a frown.

"Ha, ha, funny. You can change in the bathroom. I'll get the paperwork together. What was your name again, dearie?"

"Aren," I told her as I eyed the tiny outfit she had given me. "Aren McAllister." I spelled the first name for her, since it wasn't very common.

"Pretty name. Get changed, and I'll have some tax documents for you to sign. Also a stack of names and addresses and telegrams for you to deliver."

So I had taken the job. I'd struggled into the costume, signed the paperwork, and been handed my assignments. Sherry told me to memorize each telegram and practice them in the car between jobs until I had them down. It wasn't good to have to read the telegrams off a piece of paper while I was singing. Didn't look professional.

I had a dozen telegrams to deliver, of which Ronnie Holt's was the last one. I had stumbled a little on some of them, but Sherry was right: nobody seemed to care. The tips were good, and everybody was just having a good time. It was fun for them. Not for me, necessarily, but not as bad as I had feared, either. I didn't have to talk much, and Sherry was right about the singing, too. I didn't stammer at all. I remembered hearing about such things in the past, but I'd never really tried it. I figured it wouldn't work, like all the other things I had tried that were supposed to help.

Once I was back in my car in front of Ronnie Holt's house, I took off the high heels, tossed them in the floorboard on the passenger side, and slipped on the comfortable shoes. I looked at the house one more time, sorry that the day had ended on a sour note, and started the car. I planned to stop by the office, drop off the papers Sherry had given me, and see if she would need me again the next day. I doubted that she would. Like she'd said, Halloween was the second busiest day of the year for singing telegrams.

Maybe she would need a clown, I thought. Some clowns were silent and never talked at all. It was part of their character.

I headed along Ocean Drive to get back to the office. It was a little out of the way and took longer, but it was easier than fighting the traffic on Corpus Christi's freeways, and I got to see the big waves of the Gulf rolling in along the seawall, too, always an inspiring sight. Sherry's office was in a fairly nice strip of businesses not far from the waterfront.

She had told me to call in a couple of times during the day and let her know how things were going. I had spoken to her while I was taking a break for lunch. Drive-through, of course. No way was I getting out of the car and walking into McDonald's in this risqué outfit. It was bad enough that the kid working the window got an eyeful from his angle.

Sherry beamed at me as I came in and set the witch hat on her desk.

"See, I told you it would be just fine, and it was, wasn't it?"

"I guess," I admitted with a smile. "I had a little b-bit of trouble on the last telegram, but – "

I stopped as somebody jerked open the office door, and when I looked over my shoulder, I was shocked to see that that "little bit of trouble" was here.

Ronnie Holt stomped into the office, and he looked really mad now.

* * * * * * *

Now available as eBook at Amazon & Barnes & Noble for $4.99, and the trade paperback is available through Amazon, and at CreateSpace for &7.99.

First Review of WITCH GOT YOUR TONGUE

Bill Crider is the first one to post a review of WITCH GOT YOUR TONGUE, and he has some very nice things to say about it. You can read his comments here. Thanks, Bill!

Witch Got Your Tongue Book Trailer

About the book:
Aren McAllister is a beautiful but shy and withdrawn young woman who has battled a stuttering problem her entire life. But then, seemingly by accident, she discovers that she wields an incredible power: she is actually a witch and can cast potent spells . . . but only by singing them.
This discovery throws Aren into a dangerous power struggle between different factions in the society of witches who live among humans unknown by them. And for the first time she encounters a romance that may change her life as much or more than the powers she never knew she had.
WITCH GOT YOUR TONGUE is the first novel in the Tongue Tied Witch series, a brand-new urban fantasy thrill ride from award-winning, best-selling novelist Livia J. Washburn, author of the best selling Fresh Baked Mystery series and the Literary Tour Mysteries.