Samuel DenHartog's Blog: The Road to 1,440 - Posts Tagged "woman-sleuth"

Some mysteries begin with a scream. This one begins with a silence so deep you could hear the dust settling between bookshelves. In the seaside town of Cozy Cove, the local library has long been a sanctuary of routine and quiet—a place where the loudest sound is the thump of a returned hardcover. But when a visiting scholar ends up dead in the attic above the reading room, librarian Margot Bellamy finds herself confronting secrets that have been resting quietly for far too long.

At the heart of the story is Margot herself: steady, observant, and more connected to the town’s tangled past than she ever intended to be. She’s not a detective, but she knows how to find what others miss—whether it’s a misplaced ledger, a hidden drawer, or a lie buried in a politely worded obituary. As she begins to pull at threads others have ignored, the cozy rhythms of her daily life unravel into something far more dangerous—and far more revealing.

The mystery unfolds not with car chases or flashing lights, but through conversations in cafés, glances exchanged over bookshelves, and the small, telling details that only someone like Margot would catch. There’s tension, yes, and danger—but also warmth, wit, and a cast of townspeople you’ll want to visit again and again, even if you can’t quite trust them. It’s a story of community and long-buried truths, of quiet women with sharp minds and deep roots.

If you’ve ever loved the kind of mystery that creeps up on you quietly and stays in your mind long after the last page, you’ll find plenty to enjoy in "Dead Quiet in the Stacks."

There’s something irresistible about a wedding in a small town—lace-trimmed details, sun-drenched ceremonies, and the slow buzz of gossip floating just under the surface. But what happens when the bride goes missing before the cake is even sliced? That’s the question at the heart of my newest cozy mystery, where nothing is quite as sweet as it seems and every borrowed item carries more weight than it should.

In this second installment of the Cozy Cove Mysteries, librarian Margot Bellamy returns to find herself tangled in the most delicate of disappearances. What starts as a suspected case of cold feet soon turns into something deeper, stranger, and far more dangerous than anyone in town wants to admit. There’s a missing veil, a borrowed book no one remembers checking out, and a ransom that arrives days too late.

This story leans into everything I love about the genre: a warm town full of oddball charm, a quiet sleuth who notices more than she lets on, and a puzzle built from rumors, half-truths, and forgotten corners. It’s got coastal charm, cake tastings, high-stakes secrets—and yes, a runaway bride who might not have been running at all.

If you like mysteries with wit, heart, and a bit of misdirection tucked into every chapter, I hope you’ll step into the tangled tale of "Something Borrowed, Something Wrong."

This summer, I told myself I would write something simple. A beach novella, maybe a picnic romance. But instead I found myself tangled up in murder, secrets, and family dynamics, especially when the Florida heat starts pressing in. This time, I’ve taken Margot Bellamy out of Cozy Cove and into the vibrant streets of Ybor City, where the scent of garlic, citrus, and fried plantains drifts through every conversation. What begins as a quiet invitation from an old friend quickly becomes a case of long-held grudges, missing money, and a suspicious cup of espresso.

This book gave me the chance to explore new settings that still feel deeply tied to Florida’s character. Ybor City, Sarasota, and St. Petersburg each offered something different, including history, elegance, and even a surreal twist or two. The atmosphere became its own kind of puzzle, full of color and contrast, helping to shape the tension in the story. I enjoyed watching Margot walk through unfamiliar streets, trying to read between the lines while pretending she was just enjoying the architecture.

One of my favorite parts of writing this novel was developing the Del Castillo family. Five adult siblings, each with a stake in the family restaurant and their own version of the truth. I didn’t want villains. I wanted people with pressure points, buried wounds, and reasons to lie that sometimes even made sense. That’s always the most satisfying kind of mystery, where guilt and grief often sit at the same table.

You can now find the latest in Margot Bellamy’s journey in "Fried Plantains and Fatal Secrets," a story full of family loyalties, complicated legacies, and the quiet strength of someone who knows how to listen more than she speaks. I hope readers enjoy uncovering each layer as much as I did.