Kate Collins's Blog, page 277

You Wonder Why We Saved All This Stuff? Really?

by Leann

[image error] The purging continues at our house in anticipation of our retirement to South Carolina. My husband is working on the attic now and it is quite the eye opener to see all that stuff spread out upstairs. Since I am allergic to anything that comes out of the attic and I start wheezing the minute I open the attic door, he's pulling it out and I am donning a mask and going through the boxes and bags.

Most of it is in pretty terrible shape because it probably gets to about 140 degrees in the attic during our tropical summers here in south Texas. The amount of garbage is, to be honest, pathetic. Some of it could have been given away rather than stashed away to sit and rot up there. And thus we come to the title of this blog.

Since my husband has had to cart many many boxes and bags either to the curb or the Goodwill in the last few months, he finally asked the question I've been waiting for: "Why did we save all this stuff?" Oh, I was ready. "Why did we? Why, you ask? Because of you!" I said rather forcefully.

Every time I tried to throw things away over the years, he would protest. If I set out items I no longer used or were worn out for the garbage collectors, he would "rescue" them. Back inside they would come. I gave up the fight long ago. Why go through the frustration of making a decision only to have it overturned without appeal?

For once, after I said the words "Because of you," I got no argument. He has no defense. And now he's serving his "hard time" on work detail. :-) I didn't rub it in and say "It would have been so much easier if way back in 1979 ..." I didn't need to.

What about you? Any hoarder-esque types among your family or friends?

Fifteen years and counting with my cat Betsy!

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

Katie in a bag.Thursday was the 15th anniversary of the day we got our kittens. It was a gray day--not at all unusual for February, but not a lot of snow was on the ground, either.  Eight months before, we had lost our beloved Katie-Cat. (The heroine of my Victoria Square Mysteries is named after her.)

Mr. L and I drove across town to the local humane society (Lollipop Farm) to find another tabby.  There was only one available for adoption.  A four-month-old kitten.  She was in a cage with her sister.  They had been there only a day, and they were frightened.  They had their little arms wrapped around each other.  It broke my heart.  We asked to see them both to decide which one we'd take.

Bonnie & Betsy keep warm by the heat run.We wanted one cat.

We ended up with two.

No way could we split up these two sisters.  (Betsy and Bonnie.)

The first few months we had them, the girls were inseparable--although they both showed teen-age puppy love for our then dominate male, Larry.  (They absolutely LOVED him!  They both looked at him with adoring eyes.  So funny!)

As time went by, however, the girls seemed to forget that they started out in the same womb.  Sometimes they'd sit together, but it was usually by accident.  And often, if one got too close to the other--crowding her sister--there'd be hissing, although the girls always ate side-by-side and were never bothered by it.

Our Gingerbread Girl, May 2011We lost our tabby Bonnie to cancer last November.  There's a huge hole in our hearts that doesn't want to mend.  Meanwhile, her sister Betsy never seemed to notice her womb-mate was gone.

What we have discovered over the years is that (DUH!) cats don't think the same way humans do. Sibling cats CAN be separated and live long and happy lives. As we learned to our detriment, humane societies and animal rescue organizations are always looking to "get rid of" a 2-for. (And who can blame them.)  But honestly, if you only want one cat, and they try to foist off two on you, you have to decide what is best for you and your new pet.

George, the tiny terrorist.We were "suckered" into taking two other siblings several years after we acquired the kittens.  Two adult male cats.  I wanted the Tuxedo (my tiny son, Fred), but the rescue organization would not split up the pair.  The outcome?  A disaster.  You see, we already had one adult male cat.  Despite being tiny in size, one of the new brothers was terribly aggressive,   (Napoleon Syndrome to the max!) We ended up with both new boys spraying our walls, rugs, and furniture to mark their territory.  It wasn't until Mr. Aggressive began to physically abuse little Betsy that we had to say "enough!"  It was time for this cat to go.  But, George (we named the boys after the Weasley twins) had a very happy ending. Mr. L's cousin's best friend was looking for a companion cat for her girl.  So we drove George 90 miles to Buffalo where he went to live with Cindy and Smirnoff. All three of them THRIVED!  Nine years later, they are all still very happy together.  And Fred gets along very well with our (now) dominate cat, Chester.  (Well, most of the time.)

[image error] The last picture of Bonnie (left) and Betsy taken together (fall, 2011)By the way, over the years, we've come to call our little Betsy our bonus girl. (Or rather, our Princess, our Sweetheart Girl.)  How odd is it that she's still here while her sister (the beauty--our Gingerbread Girl--who we sought to fill the hole left by losing Katie) is gone.  (Mind you, we almost lost Betsy four years ago to lymphoma.)

So, happy anniversary, Betsy.  We love you.

(P.S.  We still call her our kitten.  She doesn't mind.)

The Winnie the Pooh Syndrome

By Heather Blake / Heather Webber
If you follow my personal blog, you know that one of my resolutions was to exercise more. After a slow start (ahem, a full month went by), I finally dusted off the treadmill (known not-so-fondly by me as the DreadTread), and got on it.
I even turned it on and everything.
I started off slowly. Very. Snail pace. But over the last few weeks I've gotten stronger. My pace has increased. My muscles are toning. Sure, I ache, but every time my heart pounds, I try to think of my arteries being cleared out.
It's good to keep a visual in mind like that. (Yes, that's sarcasm.)
Anyway, one thing I've found is that I'm actually gaining weight. Yes, you read that right. Gaining weight. It seems like a cruel joke. Not that I needed to lose weight, but still. Gain? Not amusing.
I blame the Winnie-the-Pooh syndrome. Here, watch. He says it all: 


It's true! I do improve my appetite when I exercise. Almost immediately from the time I get off the DreadTread, I'm starving. I've been eating myself out of house and home. Doesn't matter what it is, nothing's safe. So. Hungry.
I haven't figured out how to deal with this. I mean, after all, the exercise is good for me, right? Yet all that eating has to be bad, right? Such a Catch-22.
But maybe I need to take another cue from Pooh Bear:
With a hefty happy appetite I'm a hefty happy Pooh. (Er, Heather.)


Or, I could cut back on the cookies, Dr Pepper, and chips...

Decisions, decisions.
Does the Winnie the Pooh Syndrome happen to you? 

Ellery's Cozy Mystery Contest

By Ellery Adams It's that time of the month again - your chance to win an card to the store of your choice. Because it's the officially the month of love, I want to show you some by making this month's gift certificate worth $20!

I'll give you two lines from a contemporary cozy and you have six days to email me the title and author at elleryadams@verizon.net.
Please DO NOT POST the answer. You can certainly post a comment, but no title or author name in the comments, okay?
Here are the lines: "Now it's your turn, China. I'd like to hear all about that night—the night you found the trailer on fire."
Ellery's hint: The titles of this series play off flower names.

The Mysterious Male Explained

by Deb Baker/Hannah Reed

" Guys are simple… women are not simple and they always assume that men must be just as complicated as they are, only way more mysterious. The whole point is guys are not thinking much. They are just what they appear to be. Tragically. " ~ Dave Barry

I really wish I'd read that quote eons ago. It might have saved me countless years of frustration. Hours of trying to figure out what my significant other really meant by some random comment he'd made. Always digging deep into his psyche, wanting desperately to understand the inexplicable.

Hubby and I went on a trip once – six hours together in the car. I popped an audiobook into the CD player called Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus (remember that oldie goldie?).

My guy displayed his remarkable sense of humor and actually listened to it (talk about a captive audience). According to John Gray, men are problem solvers. If you and I have a bad day and complain about it to him, all we want is for him to hug us, love us, tell us how awful that must have been, rub our shoulders.

But no, he thinks he has to fix it.

"Did you try this?" He asks. Then, "You should have said/done this." And eventually, "Next time…."

By the time he's done making suggestions and pointing out what I should have done, he's become my bad day.

Back to my husband story before I go off on a tangent. When we were home from our trip for a few days, I mentioned that the garbage was piling up. His response, "I feel for you, sweetie. Come here. Let me rub your shoulders."

Smart ass.

Anyway, sometimes I need a reminder that we really are wired differently. Today, I'm going to take it in stride. I suggest you do the same.

E.J. Copperman asks: What's In A Name?

by Guest Blogger E.J. Copperman

E.J. Copperman--No. Seriously.

I'll get it right out of the way: The third book in my Haunted Guesthouse mystery series, OLD HAUNTS, will be published February 7. I think it's good, and hope you will, too. And I wouldn't have brought it up but for two things: 1. A couple of incidents related to OLD HAUNTS prompted this post and 2. I'd be an idiot not to promote my book on this blog.

Here's the thing--In the past week, I've seen the first review of OLD HAUNTS, and someone listing their favorite mysteries of 2011 was kind enough to include my AN UNINVITED GHOST among those. The review was very complimentary and generous, and I appreciated it greatly. Never let it be said I reacted badly to any review, but especially a positive one. And it was honestly a thrill to be included among someone's favorites of the year. Authors live for such moments. I'll never complain about them, I promise. There was, however, one point on both the review and the list that attracted my attention, and I'll admit in both cases, it concerned me.

Both the reviewer and the kind reader think my last name is "Cooperman."

Now, I realize that the name "Copperman" is easy to misread and just as easy to mis-type. I get that. I don't blame anybody for the error, which believe me happens all the time. It's been a problem for as long as I've been named Copperman. I live in fear that one day even I will get it wrong.

I have, in fact, considered actually CHANGING my name to "Cooperman," so that those people would be right. But I worry that then they'd start spelling it "Copperman," and I'd be out of options.

The fact is, as long as people remember the title of the book (which in this case, I might have mentioned, is OLD HAUNTS), a letter or two misplaced in the author's name is probably unimportant. Still, there is a certain visceral response when you see your own name misspelled. You feel like people don't really care who you are, that you are secondary to the process, that you might as well be named something else for all they care.

All of which is essentially true and perfectly natural, but it's just a couple of letters, for crying out loud.

After all, do I spell YOUR name wrong?

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E.J. Copperman is the author of the Haunted Guesthouse mystery series from Berkley Prime Crime. The latest in the series, OLD HAUNTS, publishes February 7. Previous titles include NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED and AN UNINVITED GHOST. You can find out more at www.ejcopperman.com

Find OLD HAUNTS here: Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Books A Million ~ Indigo ~ Indie Bookstores ~
Kindle ~ Nook

A Fitting End

By Melissa Bourbon / Misa Ramirez
You can never predict where your interests will take you, or what path they will provide for you to follow.  Love for my husband and his Mexican culture led me to create the Lola Cruz mystery series (Bare-Naked Lola, book 3, comes out in April).
I never imagined I'd write a second series, and I certainly never imagined that learning to sew when I was in elementary school would factor into the concept behind that second series.
I learned to sew in elementary school.  It takes determination, fine motor skills, patience, and sheer will to learn to sew, especially when you're young.  And I had those things.  I was  a homebody, even then, and sewing quickly turned into one of my favorite things to do.  If Project Runway had been around then... watch out!
Fast forward to post college.  I spent hour after hour making the bridesmaids dresses for my wedding--and I had 7 bridesmaids in a very traditional Catholic ceremony!  A few years later, we were having kids and I sewed and dressed my children in homemade wonders which makes them burst out in laughter over now.  "Mom!  We looked like clowns!"
True. 
I'm not inordinately skilled at sewing, so simple works best ;)  Baggie one piece outfits were my specialty for a while.  And infant and toddler clothes should have tons of color, que no?
I also love magical realism and pretty much wish it was the way the world really worked.  And old outlaws?  There's just something about them that gives me a thrill
So (sew) when it came time, eons later, to develop a book concept (you know how cozy mysteries need that all important hook), sewing was the first thing that popped into my mind.  I added a touch of magic, and a few old outlaws, and, voila!   A Magical Dressmaking Mystery Series was born.
From Pleating for Mercy, book 1: All the Cassidy women possess special gifts. Harlow Jane Cassidy's is creating beautiful dresses. But she's about to discover secrets in her own family, and another gift—one that can reach beyond the grave…
When her great-grandmother passes away, Harlow Jane Cassidy leaves her job as a Manhattan fashion designer and moves back to Bliss, Texas. But soon after she opens Buttons & Bows, a custom dressmaking boutique in the turn-of-the-century farmhouse she inherited, Harlow begins to feel an inexplicable presence…
One of her first clients is her old friend Josie, who needs a gown for her upcoming wedding. But when Josie's boss turns up dead, it starts to look as if the bride-to-be may be wearing handcuffs instead of a veil. Suddenly Josie needs a lot more from Harlow than hemming a dress. Can Harlow find the real killer—with a little help from beyond?
I love Harlow's world, intertwining history and ancestry with her contemporary world, and most of all, I love all the books on fashion I've had an excuse to buy... all in the name of research! 
A Fitting End releases tomorrow and I'm so excited to share Harlow's continued journey in Bliss, Texas.  You don't have to love sewing in order to be spellbound by the Margaret Moffette Lea Pageant and Ball and the mystery at the Bliss Country Club.    From A Fitting End:Former Manhattan fashion designer Harlow Jane Cassidy has a gift for creating beautiful dresses.  But when Harlow becomes the prime suspect in a murder investigation, she'll more than her sewing skills to unravel the mystery…
Business is booming at Harlow's custom dressmaking boutique, Buttons & Bows, even with the presence of her great-grandmother's ghost hanging around the shop.  But thanks to the fast approaching Margaret Moffette Lea Pageant and Ball, Harlow has her work cut out for her when Mrs. Zinnia James hires her to make her granddaughter's pageant gown.
With the debutant ball getting the whole town of Bliss, Texas into a tizzy, Harlow knows her dress has to be perfect.  But when a local golf pro is found stabbed to death with dressmaking shears, the new deputy thinks Harlow and Mrs. James conspired to commit the crime.  Now Harlow has to finish the dress on time and clear her name before the next outfit she designs is a prison jumpsuit…
So tell me... if you were to write a cozy mystery series, what would the hook be?     Read an excerpt
Pre-Order Amazon Print Barnes & Noble
Connect with Melissa: Website: MelissaBourbon.com Facebook: Author Misa Ramirez/Melissa Bourbon Twitter: @MelissaBourbon Goodreads: Misa Ramirez / Melissa Bourbon  

Love and Murder

by guest blogger Nancy J. Cohen

Love can fuel passions as deep as jealousy, as sharp as envy, and as agonizing as unrequited affection. It can become an obsession as dark and dank as a cellar or a bright light as intense as one shining from heaven. With such potential to create havoc, is it any wonder that love is the basis for so many tales of murder?

Yet the two go hand in hand. Witness the genres of romantic suspense, intrigue, and mystery. Cozy mysteries often include a romantic relationship between the sleuth and the handsome detective or reporter or other town official. Why is this? The answer is clear. Our heroine sleuth, besides solving murders, has normal relationships with those around her. She has friends, relatives, and love interests and goes about her business when not investigating the crime.

My sleuth, Marla Shore, is a South Florida hairdresser. Over the course of the series, she's fallen in love with Detective Dalton Vail. The ultimate mix of love and murder comes together when she's a bridesmaid at her friend Jill's wedding, at the same time that she's weeks away from her own nuptials. Wedding rituals and new beginnings form the theme for Shear Murder, the latest tale in my series. Just when everyone is deliriously happy at Jill's reception, Marla finds the matron of honor dead under the cake table. Joy turns to horror.

Haven't you seen this happening at your own family gatherings? Have you gotten together at Thanksgiving or the holidays when everyone is polite on the surface but resentments run deep? Love, such a positive emotion, can quickly turn sour. That's why it's such a wonderful motivator for a villain. Weddings can be the perfect backdrop for chicanery. Everyone is supposed to be happy, but are they? What are people really feeling when they gaze at the fortunate couple? How many of them harbor murder in their hearts fueled by jealousy, greed, or envy?

Hopefully, my sleuth's nuptials will go off without a hitch, but in a mystery, you never know. Danger lurks around the corner. Appearances can be deceiving. And that's what makes writing about family events so juicy and enticing for an author.

Do you like for a sleuth to have an ongoing romance throughout a series, or do you prefer love to lead to murder in the stories you read?

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Shear Murder Who knew weddings could be murder? Hairstylist Marla Shore is weeks away from becoming a bride herself when she walks down the aisle as a bridesmaid at her friend Jill's ceremony. Things take a turn for the worse when the matron of honor ends up dead, the cake knife in her chest. Now what will they use to cut the cake?

BUY NOW!

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Leave a comment during Nancy's blog tour and enter to win a free signed book.

Do women ever stop loving their dolls?

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

I mean it? Do women ever stop loving their dolls? I don't think I did.  But then I don't have children.  (I have cats.  And don't tell me that's easier -- ha!  They fight like ... well, like little kids.  "He's looking at me, Ma!!!!")

That's not to say that girls don't like other toys.  I can remember many happy hours spent playing with tinker toys, my brother's erector set, Lincoln Logs, the Playdoh extruder (and the Fun Factory!), model gas station (with a deluxe elevator to move the cars to the roof for extra parking), Legos, and one of the best boy toys ever, the Kenner Building set.  (Man, I loved that.  Green girders and plastic window panels. how 1960s was that!)

But then there were my dolls. I had a few of the greats.  Thumbelina, Tiny Tears (with the rockabye eyes).  I loved (and still have) my Barbies (and her friends and assorted relatives).  And BTW, my Barbie flew in G.I. Joe's space capsule long before Mattel ever thought of putting her in space).

My protagonist, Katie Bonner of the Victoria Square Mysteries, had an opportunity to think about dolls in my latest release, THE WALLED FLOWER.  One of her vendors is selling handcrafted dolls and misrepresenting their pedigree.  That causes Katie to buy a box lot of assorted dolls at an auction she attends.  She figures she'll rehab the ailing dolls (such as amputee Raggedy Ann), and sell them.  But . . . will that really happen?  Will Katie be able to part with her new-found dolly friends AND solve a murder that's over two decades old?

I hope you'll be intrigued enough to find out by reading THE WALLED FLOWER.  It'll be "officially" available on Tuesday (but I've heard rumors that some people have already found copies on the shelves)  in bookstores and online.

The Love/Hate Relationship

By Heather Blake / Heather Webber

I have a love/hate relationship with technology. Part of me loves having my cell phone, cable TV, Wi-fi...

Then there are times I long for simpler times. Thirteen TV channels. One land-line phone (that didn't cost an arm and a leg). Atlases instead of GPSes.

I mean, really. When was the last time you saw a road atlas? When I was little, I thought they were the coolest things ever.

Recently, my daughter and I went to a play downtown. An hour, round-trip, tops. And we both forgot our cell phones at home. It was then that I realized how dependent I'd become on mine. Not just for communication or emergency calls. Oh no. But for a clock. A camera. Light in the dark theater.

And then a few days ago I turned on the computer, opened Skype, and was able to talk to my oldest son, face to face. He's in the Army and currently stationed in Arizona, and I haven't seen him in person for months. Technology allowed me to see his big smile, to hear his voice—and nothing made this mom happier that night.

Then the next night, I turned on the computer, opened Skype, and talked to son # 2, who's away at college. I was very happy to see his smile, too. It was a very good mom week.

So right now, I'm thinking my relationship with technology is leaning more toward love. But I still kind of wish atlases would make a comeback.

How do you feel about technology?