Kate Collins's Blog, page 2

Saving Kathy's House

by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett

As most of you know, I write the Lotus Bay Mysteries (and not often enough). When I started the series, I based it on a real place.

Over about a decade, I'd watched what I began to call "Kathy's house" (the basis for Swans Nest Inn) fall into disrepair. It made me sad. It made me want to write about rescuing it. Of course, I needed a BIGGER house to act as the inn, so... I just added more rooms. A lot more rooms--and a taller attic. (I figure Swans Nest Inn is at least double the size of "Kathy's house.") The grass was never cut (the picture above was taken in early spring), and it just got shabbier and shabbier. And then one day, the dreaded RED X went up. That meant, if it caught on fire, it wasn't safe for firefighters to enter.  (Ruh-roh!)

Then, two years ago, a FOR SALE sign went up. Yay! Someone was going to save Kathy's house.  Only nothing happened for quite a while. In fact, there's also a commercial building on the lot, and the new owner worked on it before the house. It was finished last summer and looks quite nice. They finally painted (or stained) the house last fall. I was surprised he choose charcoal gray. (Not my choice.) But the house was finally starting to get some love.

The house is by no means finished. And where I took it from four apartments back to a home, the new owner is taking the home and making it a duplex. It looks quite a bit different, but actually very nice.

How do I know about all this?  I met the new owner last week. He's a surveyor and was surveying a cottage near ours. Our neighbor works with him and as I was packing the car, I was called over to speak to him. Not only had our neighbor read the Lotus Bay Mysteries, but he'd loaned the books to the surveyor and his wife. I told him I'd added a big porch, and apparently it's in the works, although I'm not sure if it'll be in the front or the back of the house.

It was so nice to hear about the love and care that's going into the restoration. (You can't see it, but there's a lovely picnic area to the left.)

Don't you just love happy endings?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - TODAY'S GIVEAWAY - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I also write about a tea shop in my Victoria Square Mysteries (Tealicious!). How would you like these four-seasons teabag holders?  To enter, comment below and tell us what your favorite tea is and how you drink it (sugar, lemon, plain, milk, cream, hot or cold).

Please leave your email address in your comment so we can contact you should you win. If you'd like, let us know if you want to be added to our email newsletter list. (Or you can do it yourself.  Just click this link.) P.S. We will not add you without your permission.

Get up and Go Giveaway

Hi everyone. Duffy Brown here and talking bikes.  I love bicycles! Maybe that’s why I write the Cycle Path Mysteries set on Mackinac Island where there are no cars and bikes and horses are the main mode of transport. But I love bikes because of the great memories. I don’t know about you but riding a bike was my first taste of real independence. Hop on and I was gone fast. Much faster than walking. Yippee! I rode my bike into town, to the community pool, friends houses that were too far to get there on foot, school, tennis court. It was true freedom!And now I’m thinking of getting another bike. An electric one! I know this is cheating but I need a bit of help getting up the hills. I’m looking at the Townie Go. It’s pedal assist without a throttle that turns the thing into a scooter. I just need help not another car. I live near an amazing bike path built along railroad right-of-ways. The paths go on forever along rivers and across adorable bridges the through cute towns. I can ride miles and miles or at least as long as the electric bike battery holds out. And the Townie Go comes in amazing colors. I mean that is the important part, right. So here are the colors to choose from. Tell me your fave and I’ll choose a winner for the Great Pillow Giveaway from the answers. Thanks for playing along. Happy biking.Hugs, Duffy 

July Giveaway

by  Maggie Sefton


I've had a wonderful response to my giveaway offer last week.  Consequently it became
 obvious to me that it would take me a lot longer than one week to wrap up all the details.  So, please be patient with me.  I've also got a lot of family activity going on plus income taxes and other obligations arising at this time of year.  I will definitely keep Cozy Chicks Blog readers and fans updated.  Meanwhile, take care everyone.  I'll go back into secular distancing now.

JULY GIVEAWAY: Dr. MAGGIE WOULD LOVE THIS SLEEP SHIRT

By Mary Kennedy                                               
                                   

This my friend Kelly's cat who's settled down for some serious snoozing. (which is something cats do best)

Have you been following the Talk Radio Mysteries? Dr. Maggie Walsh, Manhattan psychologist who closed up her practice and moved to sunny south Florida, enjoys lounging and snoozing, too. That is, when she has a little time off from her on-air job at WYME Radio. She's a radio shrink and she solves a murder (or two) in every book.
                                                                             

Here's a brief excerpt from REEL MURDER in the series.

Something was horribly wrong.            I knew it before I opened my eyes, before I saw the faint pinkish-orange light seeping in between the “Faux-teak” blinds that shutter my bedroom windows.  It was barely dawn, yet I could hear someone rattling around my condo, moving from the hall into the kitchen.              I instantly slammed into Def Con 1.  I sat straight up in bed, pulse racing, nerve endings tingling, skin prickling at the back of my neck. An icy finger traced a lazy trail down my spine and I crept out of bed, yanking my arms into my favorite terry bathrobe.             I was gripped by a fear so intense, I could hardly breathe.                A home invasion?  Call 911!  I reached for my cell phone, then realized with a stab of despair that I’d left it in the kitchen. How annoying. Not only was I going to die, I was going to die because of my own stupidity, just like the heroine in a Kevin Williamson flick.  Never an ideal way to go.              I could only hope  there would be enough of my body left for the police to make a positive ID.  Maybe the pale blue bathrobe, decorated with  goofy yellow ducks, would give them a clue.  My roommate, Lark Merriweather, always says that no one over twelve years old would be caught dead in it.              Or alive, for that matter.                  I tiptoed to the bedroom door, my heart lodged in my throat.  I felt the beginning of flop sweat sprouting under my arms as I cautiously turned the door knob.  At least, Lark, would be spared.  She was away for the weekend, visiting friends in Key West.  But where was my dog, Pugsley?  He’d been sleeping at the foot of my bed when I’d drifted off to sleep watching Letterman.  Had he been abducted? The victim of foul play?  I couldn’t face life without Pugsley. Rising hysteria!             And then I heard a familiar voice.             A breathy, smoke-filled voice, early Kathleen Turner.  My shoulders slumped with relief and I shuffled out of the bedroom,  my pulse stuttering back to normal.                In the kitchen, I found both good news and bad news awaiting me.             The good news was that there was no sign of a crazed serial killer, no ax murderer. 
            The bad news was that my mother, Lola Walsh, was back in town. To enter today's giveaway, which is an adorable kitty face sleep shirt, just leave a comment on this blog and tell me why you love cats. (that should be a no brainer, we all do!). Here's a picture of the shirt, you can see how cute it is.  I'll choose a winner by noon time tomorrow. Be sure to leave me your email so I can notify you that you've won! Good luck everyone.                                                                   
                                                                                    by Mary Kennedy

Today's Giveaway

We're giving you another chance to win one of our tote bags and bookmarks.

The Cozy Chicks love to read. Tell us which of the Chicks' (past and present) you've read.  Need to refresh your memory? Check out our list of titles. (Just click this link.)

Please leave your email address in your comment so we can contact you should you win. If you'd like, let us know if you want to be added to our email newsletter list. (Or you can do it yourself.  Just click this link.) P.S. We will not add you without your permission.
 ==================================

Spotlight on DESIGNS ON MURDER

by Gayle Leeson

I have so much fun writing this series, and I've lowered the price of book one to ninety-nine cents. Here's a preview:

Chapter One

A flash of brilliant light burst from the lower righthand window of Shops on Main, drawing my attention to the FOR LEASE sign. I’d always loved the building and couldn’t resist going inside to see the space available.
I opened the front door to the charming old mansion, which had started life as a private home in the late 1800s and had had many incarnations since then. I turned right to open another door to go into the vacant office.
“Why so glum, chum?” asked a tall, attractive woman with a dark brown bob and an impish grin. She stood near the window wearing a rather fancy mauve gown for the middle of the day. She was also wearing a headband with a peacock feather, making her look like a flapper from the 1920s. I wondered if she might be going to some sort of party after work. Either that, or this woman was quite the eccentric.
“I just came from a job interview,” I said.
“Ah. Don’t think it went well, huh?”
“Actually, I think it did. But I’m not sure I want to be doing that kind of work for...well...forever.”
“Nothing’s forever, darling. But you’ve come to the right place. My name’s Max, by the way. Maxine, actually, but I hate that stuffy old name. Maxine Englebright. Isn’t that a mouthful? You can see why I prefer Max.”
I chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you, Max. I’m Amanda Tucker.”
“So, Amanda Tucker,” Max said, moving over to the middle of the room, “what’s your dream job?”
“I know it’ll sound stupid. I shouldn’t have even wandered in here--”
“Stop that please. Negativity gets us nowhere.”
Max sounded like a school teacher then, and I tried to assess her age. Although she somehow seemed older, she didn’t look much more than my twenty-four years. I’d put her at about thirty...if that. Since she was looking at me expectantly, I tried to give a better answer to her question.
“I want to fill a niche...to make some sort of difference,” I said. “I want to do something fun, exciting...something I’d look forward to doing every day.”
“And you’re considering starting your own business?”
“That was my initial thought upon seeing that this space is for lease. I love this building…always have.”
“What sort of business are you thinking you’d like to put here?” Max asked.
“I enjoy fashion design, but my parents discouraged me because—they said—it was as hard to break into as professional sports. I told them there are a lot of people in professional sports, but they said, ‘Only the best, Mandy.’”
Max gave an indignant little bark. “Oh, that’s hooey! But I can identify. My folks never thought I’d amount to much. Come to think of it, I guess I didn’t.” She threw back her head and laughed.
“Oh, well, I wish I could see some of your designs.”
“You can. I have a couple of my latest right here on my phone.” I took my cell phone from my purse and pulled up the two designs I’d photographed the day before. The first dress had a small pink and green floral print on a navy background, shawl collar, three-quarter length sleeves, and A-line skirt. “I love vintage styles.”
“This is gorgeous! I’d love to have a dress like this.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. What else ya got?” Max asked.
My other design was an emerald 1930s-style bias cut evening gown with a plunging halter neckline and a back panel with pearl buttons that began at the middle of the back on each side and went to the waist.
Max caught her breath. “That’s the berries, kid!”
“Thanks.” I could feel the color rising in my cheeks. Max might throw out some odd phrases, but I could tell she liked the dress. “Mom and Dad are probably right, though. Despite the fact that I use modern fabrics—some with quirky, unusual patterns—how could I be sure I’d have the clientele to actually support a business?”
“Are you kidding me? People would love to have their very own fashion designer here in little ol’ Abingdon.”
“You really think so? Is it the kind of place you’d visit?” I asked.
“Visit?” Max laughed. “Darling, I’d practically live in it.”
“All right. I’ll think about it.”
“Think quickly please. There was someone in here earlier today looking at the space. He wants to sell cigars and tobacco products. Pew. The smell would drive me screwy. I’d much rather have you here.”
Hmm...the lady had her sales pitch down. I had to give her that. “How much is the rent?”
“Oh, I have no idea. You’ll find Mrs. Meacham at the top of the stairs, last door on your left. It’s marked OFFICE.”
“Okay. I’ll go up and talk with her.”
“Good luck, buttercup!”
I was smiling and shaking my head as I mounted the stairs. Max was a character. I thought she’d be a fun person to have around.
Since the office wasn’t a retail space like the other rooms in the building, I knocked and waited for a response before entering.
Mrs. Meacham was a plump, prim woman with short, curly white hair and sharp blue eyes. She looked at me over the top of her reading glasses. “How may I help you?”
“I’m interested in the space for rent downstairs,” I said.
“You are? Oh, my! I thought you were here selling cookies or something. You look so young.” Mrs. Meacham laughed at her own joke, so I faked a chortle to be polite. “What type of shop are you considering?”
“A fashion boutique.”
“Fashion?”
“Yes, I design and create retro-style fashions.”
“Hmm. I never picked up sewing myself. I’ve never been big on crafts.” She stood and opened a file cabinet to the left of her desk, and I could see she was wearing a navy suit. “Canning and baking were more my strengths. I suppose you could say I prefer the kitchen to the hearth.” She laughed again, and I chuckled along with her.
She turned and handed me an application. “Just read this over and call me back if you have any questions. If you’re interested in the space, please let me know as soon as possible. There’s a gentleman interested in opening a cigar store there.” She tapped a pen on her desk blotter. “But even if he gets here before you do, we’ll have another opening by the first of the month. The web designer across the hall is leaving. Would you like to take a look at his place before you decide?”
“No, I’d really prefer the shop on the ground floor,” I said.
“All right. Well, I hope to hear from you soon.”
I left then. I stopped back by the space for lease to say goodbye to Max, but she was gone.

I went home--my parents’ home actually, but they moved to Florida for Dad’s job more than two years ago, so it was basically mine...until they wanted it back. I made popcorn for lunch, read over Mrs. Meacham’s contract, and started crunching the numbers.
I’d graduated in May with a bachelor’s degree in business administration with a concentration in marketing and entrepreneurship but just couldn’t find a position that sparked any sort of passion in me. This morning I’d had yet another interview where I’d been overqualified for the position but felt I had a good chance of getting an offer...a low offer...for work I couldn’t see myself investing decades doing.
Jasmine, my cat, wandered into the room. She’d eaten some kibble from her bowl in the kitchen and was now interested in what I was having. She hopped onto the coffee table, peeped into the popcorn bowl, and turned away dismissively to clean her paws. She was a beautiful gray and white striped tabby. Her feet were white, and she looked as if she were wearing socks of varying lengths--crew socks on the back, anklets on the front.
“What do you think, Jazzy?” I asked. “Should I open a fashion boutique?”
She looked over her shoulder at me for a second before resuming her paw-licking. I didn’t know if that was a yes or a no.
Even though I’d gone to school for four years to learn all about how to open, manage, and provide inventory for a small business, I researched for the remainder of the afternoon. I checked out the stats on independent designers in the United States and fashion boutiques in Virginia. There weren’t many in the Southwest Virginia region, so I knew I’d have something unique to offer my clientele.
Finally, Jazzy let me know that she’d been napping long enough and that we needed to do something. Mainly, I needed to feed her again, and she wanted to eat. But I had other ideas.
“Jazzy, let’s get your carrier. You and I are going to see Grandpa Dave.”
Grandpa Dave was my favorite person on the planet, and Jazzy thought pretty highly of him herself. He lived only about ten minutes away from us. He was farther out in the country and had a bigger home than we did. Jazzy and I were happy in our little three-bedroom, one bath ranch. We secretly hoped Dad wouldn’t lose the job that had taken him and Mom to Florida and that they’d love it too much to leave when he retired because we’d gotten used to having the extra space.
I put the carrier on the backseat of my green sedan. It was a cute car that I’d worked the summer between high school and college to get enough money to make the down payment on, but it felt kinda ironic to be driving a cat around in a car that reminded people of a hamster cage.
Sometimes, I wished my Mom and Dad’s house was a bit farther from town. It was so peaceful out here in the country. Fences, pasture land, and cows bordered each side of the road. There were a few houses here and there, but most of the land was still farmland. The farmhouses were back off the road and closer to the barns.
When we pulled into Grandpa Dave’s long driveway, Jazzy meowed.
“Yes,” I told her. “We’re here.”
Grandpa Dave lived about fifty yards off the road, and his property was fenced, but he didn’t keep any animals. He’d turned the barn that had been on the land when he and Grandma Jodie bought it into a workshop where he liked to “piddle.”
I pulled around to the side of the house and was happy to see that, rather than piddling in the workshop, Grandpa was sitting on one of the white rocking chairs on the porch. I parked and got out, opened the door to both the car and the carrier for Jazzy, and she ran straight to hop onto his lap.
“Well, there’s my girls!” Grandpa Dave laughed.
It seemed to me that Grandpa was almost always laughing. He’d lost a little of that laughter after Grandma Jodie had died. But that was five years ago, and, except for some moments of misty remembrance, he was back to his old self.
I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling onto the swing.
“I was sorta expecting you today,” he said. “How’d the interview go?”
“It went fine, I guess, but I’m not sure Integrated Manufacturing Technologies is for me. The boss was nice, and the offices are beautiful, but...I don’t know.”
“What ain’t she telling me, Jazzy?”
The cat looked up at him adoringly before butting her head against his chin.
“I’m...um...I’m thinking about starting my own business.” I didn’t venture a glance at Grandpa Dave right away. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he was thinking. I figured he was thinking I’d come to ask for money--which I had, money and advice—but I was emphatic it was going to be a loan.
Grandpa had already insisted on paying my college tuition and wouldn’t hear of my paying him back. This time, I was giving him no choice in the matter. Either he’d lend me the money, and sign the loan agreement I’d drafted, or I wouldn’t take it.
I finally raised my eyes to look at his face, and he was looking pensive.
“Tell me what brought this on,” he said.
I told him about wandering into Shops on Main after my interview and meeting Maxine Englebright. “She loved the designs I showed her and seemed to think I could do well if I opened a boutique there. I went upstairs and got an application from the building manager, and then I went home and did some research. I’d never seriously considered opening my own business before--at least, not at this stage of my career--but I’d like to try.”
Another glance at Grandpa Dave told me he was still listening but might take more convincing.
“I realize I’m young, and I’m aware that more than half of all small businesses fail in the first four years. But I’ve got a degree that says I’m qualified to manage a business. Why not manage my own?”
He remained quiet.
“I know that opening a fashion boutique might seem frivolous, but there aren’t a lot of designers in this region. I believe I could fill a need…or at least a niche.”
Grandpa sat Jazzy onto the porch and stood. Without a word, he went into the house.
Jazzy looked up at me. Meow? She went over to the door to see where Grandpa Dave went. Meow? She stood on her hind legs and peered through the door.
“Watch out, Jasmine,” he said, waiting for her to hop down and back away before he opened the door. He was carrying his checkbook. “How much do you need?”
“Well, I have some savings, and--”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Okay. Now, this will be a loan, Grandpa Dave, not a gift.”
“If you don’t tell me how much, I’m taking this checkbook back into the house, and we won’t discuss it any further.”
“Ten thousand dollars,” I blurted.
As he was writing the check, he asked, “Have you and Jazzy had your dinner yet?”
We were such frequent guests that he kept her favorite cat food on hand.
“We haven’t. Do you have the ingredients to make a pizza?”
He scoffed. “Like I’m ever without pizza-makings.” He handed me the check. “By the way, how old is this Max you met today? She sounds like quite a gal.”
“She doesn’t look all that much older than me. But she seems more worldly…or something. I think you’d like her,” I said. “But wait, aren’t you still seeing Betsy?”
He shrugged. “Betsy is all right to take to Bingo...but this Max sounds like she could be someone special.”

First thing the next morning, I went to the bank to set up a business account for Designs on You. That’s what I decided to name my shop. Then I went to Shops on Main and gave Mrs. Meacham my application. After she made sure everything was in order, she took my check for the first month’s rent and then took me around to meet the rest of the shop owners.
She introduced me to the upstairs tenants first. There was Janice, who owned Janice’s Jewelry. She was of average height but she wore stilettos, had tawny hair with blonde highlights, wore a shirt that was way too tight, and was a big fan of dermal fillers, given her expressionless face.
“Janice, I’d like you to meet Amanda,” said Mrs. Meacham. “She’s going to be opening a fashion boutique downstairs.”
“Fashion? You and I should talk, Amanda. You dress them, and I’ll accessorize them.” She giggled before turning to pick up a pendant with a large, light green stone. “With your coloring, you’d look lovely in one of these Amazonite necklace and earring sets.”
“I’ll have to check them out later,” I said. “It was nice meeting you.”
Janice grabbed a stack of her business cards and pressed them into my hand. “Here. For your clients. I’ll be glad to return the favor.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Next, Mrs. Meacham took me to meet Mark, a web site designer. Everything about Mark screamed thin. The young man didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on his body. He had thinning black hair. He wore a thin crocheted tie. He held out a thin hand for me to shake. His handshake was surprisingly firm.
“Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amanda.” He handed me a card from the holder on his desk. “Should you need any web design help or marketing expertise, please call on me. I can work on a flat fee or monthly fee basis, depending on your needs.”
“Thank you, but--”
“Are you aware that fifty percent of fledgling businesses fail within the first year?” he asked.
I started to correct his stats, but I didn’t want to alienate someone I was going to be working near. I thanked him again and told him I appreciated his offer. It dawned on me as Mrs. Meacham and I were moving on to the next tenant that she’d said the web designer was leaving at the end of the month...which was only a week away. I wondered where he was taking his business.
The other upstairs shop was a bookstore called Antiquated Editions. The owner was a burly, bearded man who’d have looked more at home in a motorcycle shop than selling rare books, but, hey, you can’t judge a book by its cover, right?
I made a mental note to tell Grandpa Dave my little joke. As you’ve probably guessed, I didn’t have a lot of friends. Not that I wasn’t a friendly person. I had a lot of acquaintances. It was just hard for me to get close to people. I wasn’t the type to tell my deepest, darkest secrets to someone I hadn’t known...well, all my life.
The brawny book man’s name was Ford. I’d have been truly delighted had it been Harley, but had you been expecting me to say his name was Fitzgerald or Melville, please see the aforementioned joke about books and covers. He was friendly and invited me to come around and look at his collection anytime. I promised I’d do so after I got settled in.
Then it was downstairs to meet the rest of the shop owners. The first shop on the left when you came in the door--the shop directly across the hall from mine--was Delightful Home. The proprietress was Connie, who preferred a hug over a handshake.
“Aren’t you lovely?” Connie asked.
I did not say I doubt it, which was the first thought that popped into my brain, but I did thank her for the compliment. Connie was herself the embodiment of lovely. She had long, honey blonde hair that she wore in a single braid. Large silver hoops adorned her ears, and she had skinny silver bracelets stacked up each arm. She wore an embroidered red tunic that fell to her thighs, black leggings, and Birkenstocks. But the thing that made her truly lovely wasn’t so much her looks but the way she appeared to boldly embrace life. I mean, the instant we met, she embraced me. Her shop smelled of cinnamon and something else…sage, maybe.
“Melba, that blue is definitely your color,” Connie said. “By the way, did that sinus blend help you?”
“It did!” Mrs. Meacham turned to me. “Connie has the most wonderful products, not the least of which are her essential oils.”
I could see that Connie had an assortment of candles, soaps, lotions, oils, and tea blends. I was curious to see what all she did have, but that would have to wait.
“I’m here to help you in any way I possibly can,” said Connie, with a warm smile. “Anything you need, just let me know. We’re neighbors now.”
Mrs. Meacham took me to meet the last of my “neighbors,” Mr. and Mrs. Peterman.
“Call us Ella and Frank,” Ella insisted. She was petite with salt-and-pepper hair styled in a pixie cut.
Frank was average height, had a slight paunch, a bulbous nose, and bushy brown hair. He didn’t say much.
Ella and Frank had a paper shop. They designed their own greeting cards and stationery, and they sold specialty and novelty items that would appeal to their clientele. For instance, they had socks with book patterns, quotes from famous books, and likenesses of authors.
After I’d met everyone, Mrs. Meacham handed me the keys to my shop and went upstairs. Although my shop wouldn’t open until the first of September, she’d graciously given me this last week of August to get everything set up.
I unlocked my door and went inside. I was surprised to see Max standing by the window. I started to ask her how she’d got in, but then I saw that there was another door that led to the kitchen. I imagined my space had once been the family dining room. Anyway, it was apparent that the door between my space and the kitchen hallway had been left unlocked. I’d have to be careful to check that in the future.
But, for now, I didn’t mind at all that Max was there. Or that it appeared she was wearing the same outfit she’d been wearing yesterday. Must have been some party!
“So, you leased the shop?” Max asked.
“I did!”
“Congratulations! I wish we could have champagne to celebrate.”
I laughed. “Me too, but I’m driving.”
Max joined in my laughter. “I’m so glad you’re going to be here. I think we’ll be great friends.”
“I hope so.” And I truly did. I immediately envisioned Max as my best friend--the two of us going to lunch together, talking about guys and clothes, shopping together. I reined myself in before I got too carried away.
I surveyed the room. The inside wall to my right had a fireplace. I recalled that all the rooms upstairs had them too. But this one had built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on either side of the fireplace.
“Does this fireplace still work?” I asked Max.
“I imagine it would, but it isn’t used anymore. The owners put central heat and air in eons ago.”
“Just checking. I mean, I wasn’t going to light fire to anything. I merely wanted to be sure it was safe to put flammables on these shelves.” I could feel my face getting hot. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I’m just so excited--”
“And I’m excited for you. You have nothing to apologize for. How were you supposed to know whether or not the former tenant ever lit the fireplace?”
“You’re really nice.”
“And you’re too hard on yourself. Must you be brilliant and well-spoken all the time?”
“Well...I’m certainly not, but I’d like to be.”
“Tell me what you have in store for this place,” she said.
I indicated the window. “I’d like to have a table flanked by chairs on either side here.” I bit my lip. “Where’s the best place around here to buy some reasonably priced furniture that would go with the overall atmosphere of the building?”
“I have no idea. You should ask Connie.”
“Connie?” I was actually checking to make sure I’d heard Max correctly, but it so happened that I’d left the door open and Connie was walking by as I spoke.
“Yes?”
“Max was telling me that you might know of a good furniture place nearby,” I said.
“Max?” Connie looked about the room. “Who’s Max?”
I whirled around, thinking Max had somehow slipped out of the room. But, nope, there she stood...shaking her head...and putting a finger to her lips.
“Um...she was....she was just here. She was here yesterday too. I assumed she was a Shops on Main regular.”
“I don’t know her, but I’d love to meet her sometime. As for the furniture, I’d try the antique stores downtown for starters. You might fall in love with just the right piece or two there.” She grinned. “I’d better get back to minding the store. Good luck with the furniture shopping!”
Connie pulled the door closed behind her as she left, and I was glad. I turned to Max.
“Gee, that was awkward,” she said. “I was sure you knew.”
“Knew?”
“That I’m a ghost.”


Amazon U.S. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MYCQJHB
Amazon U.K. https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MYCQJHB
Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07MYCQJHB
Amazon AU https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07MYCQJHB
UBL https://books2read.com/u/mlY2qM



G I V E A W A Y
To enter today's giveaway, please comment below and let me know what you thought of the preview of DESIGNS ON MURDER! One winner will be chosen from all entries on Sunday, July 19 at or around noon by random number generator. Please indicate in your comment whether you're a U.S. or international reader, and don't forget to include your email address. If the winner is from the U.S., s/he will win one signed paperback copy of DESIGNS ON MURDER. If the winner is international, s/he will win an eBook copy of DESIGNS ON MURDER. Good luck!

Hand me that Handbook

by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett

When Susan Morris is found dead in the dumpster behind Haven’t Got a Clue, Tricia Miles’s vintage mystery bookstore, it’s assumed that she died while digging through the garbage--especially after Tricia’s assistant, Pixie Poe, announces that Susan lived in her car.

People have really got to be down on their luck to have to live in their car, right? Well, maybe not. According to Pixie, who might not have been considered Susan’s friend, but they were acquaintances and Susan confided in her.

It turns out that quite a few people actually live in their cars—and it’s by choice. To save money, to be able to afford to travel, and/or just to live a minimal life free of possessions. For Susan, it was a little of each.

But there are drawbacks to that kind of life, too. And for Susan, it was fatal, because she wasn’t dumpster diving when she died, she was murdered. And it looks like it’s up to Tricia to find out why.

What is it that drives Tricia to relentlessly search for the truth when she stumbles across a homicide? In this instance, she’s worried that because of Pixie’s checkered past, the authorities might not look too hard when it comes to finding an alternate suspect in Susan’s death. And as she begins to look into Susan’s past, there are sinister reasons for someone else to have wanted to see her dead.

Check out my website to read an excerpt of the book.  

While you’re there, and if you haven't already, why not sign up for my online newsletter where you’ll find info on all my releases, events, and giveaways under all my mystery-genre names (they would be Lorna Barrett, Lorraine Bartlett, and L.L. Bartlett),.  Leave your complete (including apartment number, etc.) snail mail address, and I’ll send you an assortment of bookmarks.

To insure your copy of HANDBOOK FOR HOMICIDE arrives on Tuesday, order today!

Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Books A Million ~ Book DepositoryChapters/Indigo | Indie BoundKindle US ~ Kindle Worldwide | Apple Books ~ Kobo ~ Nook


- - - - - - - - - - TODAY'S GIVEAWAY - - - - - - - - - -
Today I'm giving away this neat journal. It's the perfect way to keep track of all the books you read, your life's story, or plot your own cozy mystery!  To enter, leave a comment below telling me how YOU'D use the journal. Oh, and you'll get an assortment of my bookmarks and postcards, too!
I'll choose a winner and post the name on the upper left side of this blog by Saturday, July 18 at noon time. Please leave your e-mail address along with your comment so I can contact you if you win!

Good luck everyone!

Merry Christmas in July!

by Gayle Leeson

Have you read Yule Be Dead, the Christmas book in the Victoria Square series, yet?

YULE BE DEAD –
Victoria Square Mystery #5
by Lorraine Bartlett and Gayle Leeson

It’s Christmastime, but not everyone is jolly–especially not Vonne Barnett. Her dead body has been found near Victoria Square. Katie Bonner, the manager of Artisan’s Alley, happens to be at the tea shop Vonne’s mother, Francine, owns when the news is delivered.

Vonne left a trail of men behind her so the suspects are many–but the clues are few. A broken teacup leads Katie to one of the suspects, but before she can investigate, she’s attacked. Katie may be closing in on a murderer, but time is ticking because the murderer is definitely closing in on her.

Read an excerpt or find out more here.

Prior to writing this post, I realized I've written or contributed to four Christmas books already; and I'm writing Christmas books for my two newest series, the Down South Cafe and the Ghostly Fashionista. Those will be out later this year.

This week, I'm giving away some goodies to get you in a Christmas in July frame of mind: A paperback copy of Yule Be Dead, three mini candles in holiday scents, a Perils and Lace magnet, a relaxing bath balm, and a Double Vision Editorial eraser. This prize pack will be available to U. S. readers only. International readers may enter but will win a $15 Amazon gift card if chosen.

To enter this giveaway, please comment below telling me whether you enjoy Christmas-themed cozy mysteries and/or romances. (Sleighing It in Kinsey Falls is a chick-lit Christmas novella.) On Friday at noon, I'll choose a winner using a random number generator. Please be sure and leave your email address with your comment so I'm able to contact you if you win. Good luck!

Dirt Diva! Summer Giveaway X 2

Hi, Duffy Brown here and again chatting about summer...THIS summer. Lordy, Lordy! Since we are pretty much sticking to home this is a good time to fix up the outside.And since I’m spending more time in my own space I look around and thing...Good grief has this flowerbed always been so ugly! And maybe I should fix that hole in the deck.


Or...I need a patio or a patio table or outside lights so it looks like someone actually lives here. Or what about plantings? I think I’ve single-handedly kept our local nursery and Lowes in business.I’ve added three dogwoods, four evergreens, a plethora of daisies and cone flowers and black-eyed Susan’s and some new stuff called sonic bloom viburnum.I put in front lighting, garden lighting, patio lighting all with low-voltage transformers. I can now go out and look for Dr. Watson when he escapes and not be in the dark while cat hunting.

I added comfy chairs and potted annual hibiscus to make things cheery and even put in a hummingbird feeder that no hummingbird has yet to visit. My NYC daughter got a grill for her little balcony. This is a really big deal in NYC. Other daughter added a veggie garden and promised to share the goodies and my son added a huge trampoline to spare his  sofa and sanity.So what about you? With being at home so much and outside, have you added anything to your patio? Balcony? Porch? Window? Let me know and I’ll draw a name for the Great Pillow Giveaway. I’m doing two giveaways...one here at the blog and one over at FB at Cozy Chicks Group. Yes, you can enter both and double your pillow chances.Cozy Chicks Group FBThanks for playing along.Hugs, Duffy

July Giveaway --- What a Response!

by  Maggie Sefton


Wow!  I'm delighted with the response to my Cozy Chicks post last week announcing my July Giveaway.  :)  

I'm posting below the names of the first respondents.  I'm using the name you used on your Cozy Chicks post.  If you see your name, please email  me your actual postal address so I can mail the actual post office book mailer to you. These book mailers are flat and you will recognize them from the post office.  Make sure you use these two email addresses to contact me:  

          maggie@maggiesefton.com    And to be safe, please send a duplicate email to this 2nd address    margaunon@juno.com    This will take a while, everyone, so please be patient.        

Names of respondents:  

Margo, SandyG265, Pam, Sheila, Alicia, Unknown, traveler, petite, Zita, Amy, Lynn, Doward, MGSHEPHERD, Bridget, DianneB, diannekc8, Melanie, Backuz, Catherine, Gayle Hancock, Crystal Stewart, Mary Jane Leah, Lily-Ann Gill, tetewa, Elizabeth A.G. Laurie, KathrinaP, Jenny, KarenMyers, Mish, Anne Richards, DeAnnG, Gaelicark, Diana Hardt, Eva North, Deedee14, Kara Marks, Patricia P, aggie56, donnaing