Karen Docter's Blog, page 3
September 1, 2025
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: HOME SWEET HOME #Romance #Anthology by Fern Michaels, Donna Kauffman, & Melissa Storm
KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
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HOME SWEET HOME
Romance Anthology
BY FERN MICHAELS, DONNA KAUFFMANN, & MELISSA STORM
BLURB
What makes a place feel like home? A mother’s embrace, the warmth of new friendship, a sweet reunion—all can be found in these unforgettable stories . . .
THREE’S A CROWD * Fern Michaels
This Mother’s Day will be the first in three years that Samantha Stewart has spent with her parents. And she’s bringing a very special gift—the baby granddaughter they’ve never met. Sam’s work as an overseas reporter was exhilarating and dangerous. Now she’s seeking stability for little Caroline—and answers for herself—and finding them in a homecoming full of surprises . . .
NEW BEGINNINGS IN BLUE HOLLOW FALLS * Donna Kauffman
The moment she set foot in Blue Hollow Falls, Dubliner Katie MacMillan felt right at home. Back to help with her sister’s pregnancy, she’s contemplating her own future, especially when she confronts Declan MacGregor, her childhood tormentor and first crush. This Blue Ridge town was supposed to be a new beginning, but can it also be the setting for a second chance?
BRING ME HOME * Melissa Storm
For Hazel Long, spending time with her bedridden father is bittersweet. There’s comfort in the friendship offered by other hospital visitors—and the kindness of a handsome male nurse. And when Hazel’s father begins to tell her the story of the mother she barely knew, it’s an unexpected chance to bond, and a lesson in making the most of each new day.
~~~
HOME SWEET HOME
Romance Anthology
BY FERN MICHAELS, DONNA KAUFFMANN, & MELISSA STORM
How a diagnosis became my key to freedom…
By Melissa Storm
Growing up, I always felt like an outsider.
Maybe it was because I preferred books and animals to people, which made me different (and awkward) in school. Maybe it was because I didn’t really know my biological father and felt like only a “half” among my siblings. Maybe it was something else entirely.
A year and a half ago, my therapist told me I might be autistic, and I didn’t handle it well. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it was. I went into a full-on identity crisis. Even after I “made it” in the real world, that feeling of not quite belonging never went away.
How could I graduate from college with the highest honors, land a full-time job afterward, and then go on to become a USA Today and New York Times bestselling author who juggled at least three pen names at any given time?
When I was invited to join an anthology alongside my dear friend, the late Donna Kauffman, and the legendary Fern Michaels, I said yes without hesitation.
On release day, Home Sweet Home hit the New York Times bestseller list.
It was one of the happiest, most surreal days of my life… and also one of the saddest. Not long after we received the news, Donna passed away after a long, courageous battle with cancer.
My story in the anthology is the prequel to The Sunday Potluck Club series. It features Hazel Long as the heroine, a young woman watching her father fight cancer while life quietly offers her a glimpse of joy and the promise of belonging. Her visits to the hospital turn into something more—a chance to find hope, connection, and a new beginning.
Owning my autism diagnosis is my new beginning. Claiming that truth isn’t just a personal milestone. It’s a way to create visibility, justice, and belonging for others like me. If you’ve ever felt “off,” “too much,” or “hard to explain”… maybe you’re not broken. Maybe you’re just wired differently.
If you’re still searching for where you belong, please don’t give up. Because when you find that place, it’s everything. I’m proof of that.
Warm fuzzies,
Melissa S.
About Author Melissa Storm…
Her most exciting adventures have always been born of her own “overactive imagination,” a burden which often got her into trouble as a child. Now that she’s grown, that same naughty brain keeps her busy writing in a number of genres that include Women’s Fiction and Psychological Thrillers. Her stories dive deep into themes of mental health, friendship, and community, topics that are particularly close to her big (but anxious) heart.
Melissa lives in the heart of Alaska with her husband, their child, and a lively domestic zoo brimming with spoiled cats and dogs. She dreams of one day raising bees in her backyard, but has promised her child that she will resist this particular temptation. For now.
~~~
Links to Melissa’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Kindle
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B07R5QGZNY?tag=mollyfitz-20
Apple Books
https://books.apple.com/us/book/home-sweet-home/id1461892575?uo=8&at=000laIy
B&N
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/home-sweet-home-fern-michaels/1131427008?ean=9781420146097
Kobo
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/home-sweet-home-83
Google Play
https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Fern_Michaels_Home_Sweet_Home?id=JduVDwAAQBAJ
Paperback
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1420146092?tag=mollyfitz-20
Webpage
https://www.melstorm.com/books/home-sweet-home/
~~~
Special Giveaway: Melissa will gift a box of paperback books (U.S. only) to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog. Good luck!
~~~
Thanks, Melissa, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 29, 2025
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with #ShortStory Mystery Most International, SINS OF THE FATHER by Kerry Hammond #Pasta #Recipe ~ Spaghetti Atterrati
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **AUTHOR SPECIAL** with KERRY HAMMOND!
Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, instead of one of my recipes, I will introduce you to a new author who will share a favorite recipe. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll also get a chance to check out some fantastic authors. Introducing author KERRY HAMMOND and her favorite recipe for SPAGHETTI ATTERRATI!
SINS OF THE FATHER
BY KERRY HAMMOND
Mystery Most International
The Mystery Patrons Present Book 1
By MYSTERY PATRONS
Blurb
Take a trip around the world through these thirty-two stories of mystery! From Austria to Zambia and many destinations in between, these stories will take you on a bumpy ride and keep you on the edge of your seat. We hope you enjoy these tales contributed by multiple award-winning and well-regarded authors who have generously contributed to this anthology for the purpose of supporting all members of the mystery community.
Kerry Hammond’s short story, SINS OF THE FATHER, was nominated this year for an Agatha Award.
SINS OF THE FATHER
BY KERRY HAMMOND
Mystery Most International
The Mystery Patrons Present Book 1
By MYSTERY PATRONS
Blog
Armchair Traveler
By Kerry Hammond
I am an avid armchair traveler and if I am waffling between two books on my very large TBR pile, I am very likely to choose the one that is set in an exotic locale. Give me a spy novel in Eastern Europe, a murder in a manor house in the Cotswolds, or something in the Scandi fiction genre that makes me want to curl up on the couch with a mug of tea (or glass of wine) and transport myself to another place.
A great story can make you feel like you’ve experienced a place you’ve never been, or met people you could never hope to meet. I often read a book set in a country I have visited because I enjoy returning to a place and remembering how I felt when I was there. When I am preparing to go on a trip, I will find books set in my destination country so that I can enjoy the anticipation and get a feel for the culture.
Mystery Most International is full of stories that take place on foreign soil. You won’t just travel to one new country, you’ll be transported from the comfort of your home to thirty-two different places; each one very different from the next. The only thing they promise to have in common is murder and mayhem.
Traveling for real is always great, but sometimes we just don’t have the time and/or budget that allows us to get away as much as we’d like. And the best part about armchair traveling? No passports or visas are required.
About Author Kerry Hammond…
Kerry Hammond decided to give up the practice of law to commit crimes—on the page. She is an Agatha Award nominated author whose short stories have appeared in several anthologies, including Malice Domestic, Bouchercon, and Sisters in Crime. Her love of travel means that her stories often take place in foreign locales she has (or wants to) visit, or while her characters are enroute to their next adventure. She’s a huge fan of the subtle surprise ending and is happiest when her readers don’t see the ending coming. Kerry also writes downloadable Murder Mystery Party games at BlameTheButler.com
~~~
Links to Kerry’s website, blog, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon Kindle:
https://amzn.to/41TuM3j
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/4oOJUsE
kerryhammond.comblamethebutler.com~~~
I hope you enjoy Kerry’s favorite recipe today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy Eating!Karen
P.S. We’re at 754 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right-hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: If an author’s favorite recipe isn’t their own creation and came from an online site, you will now find the entire recipe through the link to that site as a personal recommendation. Thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SPAGHETTI ATTERRATI
www.jamieoliver.com
NOTE FROM KERRY: My story takes place in Rome, so I have to share my favorite pasta recipe, found on this site (below). We made it “as is” and it’s delicious:
https://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/pasta/spaghetti-atterrati/)
Happy Reading!
~~~
Special Giveaway: Kerry will gift a trade paperback copy (Print U.S. only; Kindle version if winner is international) of MYSTERY MOST INTERNATIONAL to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog. Good luck!
~~~
Thanks, Kerry, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 27, 2025
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: STARR UNDER FIRE, Agents of Starr: A #Military #Romance Series Book by Marlie Sable
KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
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STARR UNDER FIRE
Agents of Starr: A Military Romance Series Book
BY MARLIE SABLE
BLURB
“Murder, human trafficking, and organized crime – all in the name of justice.
As nurse Charlie Parker refuses to let her sister’s death be brushed aside, she unwittingly delves into a dangerous world of secrets and violence. But as she unravels the truth, her own life is at risk.
Enter Dean “Tracker” O’Neill, tasked with protecting her from the same fate as her sister. As the two embark on a perilous journey from New York to Dublin, sparks fly and trust is tested.
In a race against time, Charlie and Tracker must stay one step ahead of their enemies, or risk losing everything.
~~~
STARR UNDER FIRE
Agents of Starr: A Military Romance Series Book
BY MARLIE SABLE
Excerpt
Charlie ducked into the space between buildings, her heart pounding. Voices rose behind her, the words garbled, but the anger woven through them clear as day. A bullet slammed into the brick across from her, sending dust and shards into the air.
She’d gotten closer this time than ever before. Evidence had given her a glimpse into the seedy underworld of human trafficking and more. The man at the head of the snake was little more than slime.
A man who made his wealth on the backs of innocent men and women, on the addictions and suffering. She’d confirmed he was under the careful watch of the local syndicate. Not that it made any difference. Crime lords or not, she was going to see him dangle by his entrails.
A bullet shattered the brick, sending shards of stone and mortar into the air. Small slivers of it digging into her flesh. Where were the screams, the panic? The only sound was the thundering of her pulse in her ears.
Charlie shook her head. Now wasn’t the time. Another muffled shot hit above her head and she twisted deeper into the shadows. Her hand throbbing where a bullet had assaulted it, leaving a jagged hole, and shattered bone.
Not that it would slow her down.
Broken bones and bruises healed. Death did not.
Myari.
Her sister’s freckled face flashed in her mind. Instead of the usual quick grin, there were bruises, cuts, sightless eyes. A body broken and tossed aside.
“Just one more step, Charlie. One more. Keep moving.”
Silence descended, and she straightened. A quick, sweeping glance of the alley revealed she was alone.
They’d run like cowards.
So predictable.
Straightening her jacket with a swift jerk, she pushed her bleeding hand into her pocket and strode out of the alley. The city’s noise swallowed her. The bustle of the crowd, the honking of horns, the rumble of buses. Under her heavy boots, garbage and broken glass crunched. The stench of rotting food, dirt, and human waste tainted the air.
But they offered no comfort. No warmth. Just left her cold as death.
One step closer… one more shot.
~~
Hunkered down next to the AC unit atop the building, Dean adjusted his rifle, tracking the redhead through the scope. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, the woman slipped from the grime of the alley, her shoulders hunched. Pain pinched her features, and she appeared to be favoring her left arm.
Blood hell.
She didn’t appear to realize how close she had come to death. Not from the syndicate thugs. No, her own recklessness caused her brush with death.
“Charlotte Parker.” He muttered, dropping his gaze to the small screen by his knee. On the screen, another woman’s photo, one with long auburn hair, blue eyes, stared back at him.
“Damn kid, I’m sorry. Should’ve been there. Should have seen it coming.” Dean licked his lips, his gaze on drifting to the street below. Charlie didn’t look like the photos Myari had shared.
She was sharper now. Like a fine–tuned blade.
Wounded but still standing.
“Don’t worry about her, Myari, I’ve got her back. Charlie’s safe with me.”
He stared at the image of the best informant he’d had. An asset to STARR. Her intel had resulted in more than one reprehensible figure being arrested or neutralized.
Gone. Destroyed.
Now, her inexperienced sister, a nurse, was navigating the cesspool from which her sister had snatched away from.
She had fire. Determination.
“And a frickin’ death wish.” Dean adjusted his weight, tucking the device into the pocket of his pants. Peering through the scope, he allowed a small grin at the sight of two bloody men stumbling from the alley. His orders had been clear, but he wasn’t going to let another civilian get capped on his watch. He wasn’t going to let her die.
Not today. Not ever.
Years of experience ensured he had his gear packed up within moments. Rising to his feet, Dean strode across the rooftop. He would stay focused the prize... just because he’d nicked the bastards didn’t mean they wouldn’t try it again.
Blending into the crowd, Dean kept one eye on the target. She didn’t see him. Didn’t know he was there.
She didn’t need to know, yet.
“Status.” His earpiece crackled to lift.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Targets in motion.”
“Observe only.”
STARR’s head commander, Kedanski’s voice was clinical.
Dean smiled, a grim expression. Observe?
Yeah, he‘d observe until it became necessary for more. He wasn’t going to risk losing her.
About Author Marlie Sable…
“Where fierce hearts fight hardest—for love, for justice, for each other.”
Marlie Sable writes edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense where passion burns hot and danger always lingers close. Her heroines are bold, her heroes unforgettable, and her stories dive deep into the grit of trauma, trust, and redemption. Drawing on the pulse-pounding intensity of military missions and the raw vulnerability of hard-won love, Marlie crafts emotional journeys that linger long after the final page. When she’s not writing, she’s working on crafts, crocheting, or out in the garden.
~~~
Links to Marlie’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Permafree: https://www.curios.com/collections/0x4f7cfb8bf3feebacad3a61071b12cdb089df1365
Amazon Author Page:
https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0FBLJ7BY7
Author’s Links:
https://linktr.ee/marliesable
Happy Reading!
~~~
Thanks, Marlie, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 25, 2025
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: REWRITING THEIR STARRS, Agents of Starr: A Military Romance Series Book by Eliza Kay
KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
~~~
REWRITING THEIR STARRS
Agents of Starr: A Military Romance Series Book
BY ELIZA KAY
BLURB
Josie
The day our mission turned into a bloodbath I walked away from the agency, the only life I had ever known. Agents dead. Informants slaughtered. And Luka… nearly lost.
Now I go by Josephine and teach child actors how to pretend, hiding in plain sight.
But when Luka shows up at my door, needing a favor only I can deliver, I’m reminded that the past is never truly buried.
A mole is leaking military secrets, and someone I once protected knows the truth.
Luka wants me back in the field.
But the deeper we go, the more personal this mission becomes—especially when the enemy targets someone I love.
Luka
I’ve seen missions go sideways before—but not like this. Another op blown to hell. Another body count.
Too many close calls to chalk it up to chance.
To get answers, I need a contact only Josie can reach. She’s the key to stopping a traitor and getting the answers we desperately need.
But pulling her back in means confronting everything we buried. Everything we were.
She might hate me.
I might deserve it.
But I’ll burn the whole world down before I let her get hurt again.
~~~
REWRITING THEIR STARRS
Agents of Starr:
A Military Romance Series Book
BY ELIZA KAY
Excerpt
Cut!!” The director shouts as the bells ring in the background.
The set becomes a flurry snow globe of activity. I wait just off to the side, so I’m out of the way. Collecting my kiddos is like herding cattle, I swear. They try to wander off in all directions.
“Miss Josephine? Can we please stop by crafty before going back to holding?”
Staring up at me with big sea glass eyes is Cindy. She’s the youngest child on this set at only five years old. Her blonde curls are in a cute high pony tail with a red bow today. I can never say no to her sweet, angelic face. “Of course we can, Cindy Lou Who,” I say with a huge smile on my face.
She scrunches up her nose at me. “Miss Josephine! I am not a who!” She fakes being upset, but secretly I know she loves our jokes.
“Come on. Let’s wrangle up the rest of the kiddos.” And with that we head towards the snacks.
About Author Eliza Kay…
Eliza Kay is an avid reader with stories galore in her head begging to be set free. She lives in the Midwest with her loving husband and adorable son. She enjoys reading, writing, crafting, movies and spending time with her family.
~~~
Links to Eliza’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Rewriting-Their-Starrs-Agents-STARR-ebook/dp/B0F91PFBXB
Author’s Links:
https://linktr.ee/elizakayauthor
Happy Reading!
~~~
Special Giveaway: Eliza will gift a “movie” style poster to one lucky reader to download who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog. Good luck!
~~~
Thanks, Eliza, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 22, 2025
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with BONE HASH, Archaeologist Aideen Connor Mysteries #Amateur #Sleuths by Skye Griffith #Recipe ~ Skye’s Chimayo Red Chili Sauce
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **AUTHOR SPECIAL** with SKYE GRIFFITH!
Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, instead of one of my recipes, I will introduce you to a new author who will share a favorite recipe. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll also get a chance to check out some fantastic authors. Introducing author SKYE GRIFFITH and her favorite recipe for Skye’s Chimayo Red Chili Sauce!
BONE HASH
Archaeologist Aideen Connor Mysteries
BY SKYE GRIFFITH
Blurb
“Griffith has created a riveting work that successfully blends a chilling mystery and a revealing character study into a potent whole.” Kirkus Review
Ancient Bones. A modern murder. A deadly secret buried deep in the desert.
In the vast untamed desert of northern Arizona, Aideen Connor signs on as lead archaeologist hoping to find peace after witnessing her husband’s violent death. Instead, she stumbles into a mystery as ancient and dangerous as the land itself. Aideen’s team uncovers a “bone hash,” human bones showing evidence of prehistoric cannibalism. Then a brutal murder shocks the residents of the nearby Hopi Reservation. Unsettling connections emerge between the murder and her dig, and Aideen’s world begins to unravel.
Aideen’s boss blames her when the bone hash is stolen. Violent threats begin: A sheep is viciously killed under her residential trailer, a photo of her dead husband left in its blood. A hulky stranger chases her across remote backcountry and attacks her. All threats point to a grim reality: someone wants her gone. Aideen must navigate a maze of buried truths with only her dog, Dakota for companionship. Every clue leads her closer to the secrets buried at her dig that could cost her more than her career—they could cost her life.
BONE HASH
Archaeologist Aideen Connor Mysteries
BY SKYE GRIFFITH
Why I Wrote Bone Hash
A Novel set in the American Southwest
It’s late afternoon and we’re driving down a dirt road from the Kane Gulch Ranger Station heading for Grand Gulch, a vast serpentine canyon in southeast Utah. Grand Gulch is a Wilderness Study Area rife with Ancestral Puebloan cliff ruins and rock art where hikers and backpackers experience ancient Native American cultures in their natural settings. It’s late spring, and the cactuses are blooming, adding a touch of pinks and yellows to the sandstone landscape.
We arrive at the camping area close to dinner time and set up camp. It’s quiet here, as only desert wilderness can be, and we sigh a collective breath after our long drive from Colorado.
After enjoying travels throughout the U. S., Europe and South America, I realized this is one of the places on earth I like visiting best. Ever since my first trip to Mesa Verde, an extensive archaeological site in southwestern Colorado, I’ve held a fascination for the people who once walked the high desert of the Four Corners Region, the people whom we now identify as Ancestral Puebloan. Most archaeologists believe they are the ancestors of modern-day Pueblo people now living in New Mexico and Arizona.
These prehistoric Native American people once populated much of the American Southwest. They created hundreds of villages from the only building materials available—rocks and mud. At Mesa Verde I learned of their dry land farming on the mesa tops, their well-thought-out irrigation systems and how they’d managed to thrive in an environment both harsh and beautiful. Then between 1275 and 1300 CE, they abandoned everything and moved south. Scientists still contemplate the reasons for their migrations, and most point to evidence of severe drought. Some scientists also speculate about the impact of increased violence and cultural collapse brought on by environmental devastation.
After visiting Mesa Verde I hiked back-country canyons and visited archaeological sites throughout Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Arizona to learn more about the ancient ones who’d walked the land before the arrival of Europeans. I explored their former dwellings, visited museums where I studied the every-day items they’d abandoned and sought out the petroglyphs and pictographs they’d made on canyon walls that told of their migrations.
Then I began to consider what challenges a modern-day archaeologist might face while she examined the material culture of prehistoric people who’d left their homes behind—a devastating loss—while she came to grips with her own loss after witnessing the violent death of her husband.
One-by-one the characters in Bone Hash began to reveal themselves, and my novel took off. I hope you find it an enjoyable read!
Praise for Bone Hash
“Griffith has created a riveting work that successfully blends a chilling mystery and a revealing character study into a potent whole.”
—KIRKUS REVIEWS
About Author Skye Griffith…
Skye Griffith (https://skyegriffith.com) has hiked windswept canyons in the American Southwest, visited dozens of archaeological sites in New Mexico, Utah, Colorado and Arizona and attended Native American dances and celebrations that gave her a deep respect for these First Americans and their ancient cultures. Previously an award-winning event designer and producer, Skye debuts her talent for storytelling with Bone Hash, a gripping mystery inspired by her explorations. Her articles have appeared in the National Endowment for the Arts newsletter, International Events Magazine and other industry publications. She holds degrees from the Universities of Cincinnati and Denver and is a member of the Denver Woman’s Press Club, Mystery Writers of America, and Sisters in Crime. She lives in Denver with her husband and their 115 lb. Malamute.
~~~
Links to Skye’s website, blog, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon Kindle: https://amzn.to/4757tqW
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/4mOc5pR
Website: https://www.skyegriffith.com
Skye@skyegriffith.com
~~~
I hope you enjoy Skye’s recipe today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy Eating!Karen
P.S. We’re at 753 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right-hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: If an author’s favorite recipe isn’t their own creation and came from an online site, you will now find the entire recipe through the link to that site as a personal recommendation. Thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cooking With Chimayo Red
NOTE FROM SKYE: Since leaving the Midwest and living in Colorado, I’ve become a true Chili Head and love the distinctive taste of red chile made with chile powder from Chimayo, New Mexico. Smother it on your breakfast eggs, homemade enchiladas, pinto beans, and other dishes that call for the kick that only red chile can provide. To buy Chimayo Red chile powder, check out the specialty aisle in your local grocery or order it online.
Skye’s Chimayo Red Chile Sauce.
Make a roux in a large cast iron skillet using 4 T of butter with 4 T unbleached flour. Melt the butter first, then add the flour slowly until well mixed. Cook on low until golden brown, and then remove from heat and set aside.Chop 4 cloves of fresh garlic. Some folks might prefer less or even none if you’re not a big fan of garlic.Add 2 T of olive oil to a two-quart or larger saucepan and add the garlic.Sauté the garlic in the oil until it becomes translucent.Add 4 cups commercial chicken stock. I love Kirkland Organic Chicken Stock from Costco.Add ½ Cup Chimayo Red Chile Powder. Or more! Or less! Add the chile powder slowly and taste it as you go, stirring constantly with a whisk. The greater the amount of chile powder, the stronger the taste and the hotter it gets. Simmer over low heat for 20-30 minutes until smooth, stirring frequently.Re-heat the roux and slowly add the broth and chile mixture to the skillet, stirring constantly. Cook until it reaches the consistency you like and remove from heat. I like it the thickness of a light gravy.Happy Reading!
~~~
Special Giveaway: Skye will gift a print copy (U.S. only) of BONE HASH to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog. Good luck!
~~~
Thanks, Skye, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 20, 2025
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: KITCHEN WITCH CRACKS A COLD CASE #Cozy #Culinary #Mystery by Tessa Bloom
KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
~~~
KITCHEN WITCH CRACKS A COLD CASE
The First Spellbinding Mystery
in the
Coven of Convection Series
BY TESSA BLOOM
BLURB
The bakery was supposed to be a fresh start, not a crime scene.
When Bria and her coven open a magical bakery in Hartwood Hollow, they expect rising dough and second chances. Not a skeleton in the wall, a sealed spellbook, and a kitchen that keeps misbehaving in front of the town’s surliest fire marshal.
Dean Maddox is rigid, brooding, and infuriatingly attractive. He also thinks Bria is one spark away from burning the whole town down. But when strange signs point to a cold case with ties to the bakery’s past, even Dean can’t ignore the clues—or the way Bria keeps surprising him.
As misfiring spells, small-town gossip, and long-buried secrets close in, Bria must decide if she’s willing to embrace the dangerous magic she’s always feared. Because in Hartwood Hollow, some fires aren’t meant to be put out… they’re meant to burn bright.
Read this if you love:
Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Sweet, Slow-Burn Romance
Small Town with a Secret
Found Family / Ride-or-Die Coven
Magical Cat Familiar
Amateur Sleuth
Grumpy/Sunshine
First Book in a Series
Skeleton in the Closet (Literally!)
Step into Hartwood Hollow today, where the gossip is magical, the danger is delicious, and every mystery comes with a side of something sweet.
~~~
KITCHEN WITCH CRACKS A COLD CASE
The First Spellbinding Mystery
in the
Coven of Convection Series
BY TESSA BLOOM
Excerpt
When I pushed open the bakery door, the bell jingled to announce my return. Hazel and Nixie looked up from where they’d been huddled at the counter, their expressions a mix of relief and anxious anticipation.
“Finally!” Nixie exclaimed. “We were about to send a search party. Or at least a very strongly worded magical telegram.”
“How did it go?” Hazel asked, already moving to the kitchen where a kettle whistled softly.
I followed them into the kitchen and stopped short. Nixie had transformed our back wall into an elaborate conspiracy board. Red string connected newspaper clippings, hand-drawn symbols, and what appeared to be a crayon portrait of the skeleton wearing a chef’s hat. Everything was liberally dusted with glitter. Classic Nixie.
“What is that?” I asked, letting Crumb jump from my bag onto the counter, where he immediately began inspecting Nixie’s handiwork.
“Investigation headquarters!” Nixie declared proudly. “I call it ‘Murder Board: The Sparkle Edition.'”
“We don’t know for sure this was murder,” Hazel reminded her, handing me a steaming mug that released tendrils of fragrant steam.
Nixie waved away Hazel’s concern with a flick of her wrist. “Potato, shomato.”
Hazel rolled her eyes, then turned to me. “So? Did the marshal dismiss you immediately, or did he at least try to answer your questions?”
I sank into a chair, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “Actually, Dean was… different than I expected.”
Both witches froze, exchanging glances.
“Dean?” Nixie repeated, eyebrows shooting up. “We’re on a first-name basis with Mr. By-The-Book now?”
I felt my cheeks warm. “Marshal Maddox showed me building records. The wall where we found the skeleton wasn’t in the original plans. It was added later, without permits.”
“Well, that officially confirms what the contractor told us,” Hazel admitted, joining me at the table. “I guess that’s progress.”
“Dean’s been researching it too,” I continued. “And when my magic sparked, yes, literally sparked, right in front of him, he didn’t even blink. Just asked if it happened often, like he was asking about the weather.”
“That could mean anything,” Hazel cautioned, but her eyes betrayed her curiosity. “Maybe he thinks it’s marketing magic like everyone else in town seems to.”
“Yeah, but… Crumb also purred for him,” I added. “When has Crumb ever purred for a stranger?”
Nixie gasped dramatically. “Betrayal! Crumb, how could you?”
The cat, now grooming himself on the counter, didn’t bother to acknowledge the accusation.
“And I told him about the skeleton and the spellbook, and he just listened. He didn’t threaten to turn us in to the authorities or anything. Guys, I think we can trust him to help.”
Hazel’s face darkened. “You revealed the secrets after promising not to. That is not okay.”
Nixie snatched the slip of paper with Dean’s contact info from my fingers, examining it like it might be cursed. “Hazel’s right. A fire marshal who’s willing to investigate off the record? I don’t trust it.”
“This was not your decision to make alone,” Hazel said, her brow furrowed. “He could still shut us down if he wanted to. We need to be careful about how much we reveal. You’ve already told him far too much.”
“We should enchant him,” Nixie suggested, wiggling her fingers dramatically. “Just a tiny compliance spell. Or a truth serum in his coffee. I have a recipe that tastes like hazelnut creamer but makes you spill your deepest secrets.”
“Absolutely not,” Hazel said firmly. “Magic has consequences, especially when used on unwilling subjects. Have we learned nothing from what happened with the spellbook?”
“That’s different,” Nixie argued. “The spellbook wanted to be found. It practically exploded with joy when Bria touched it.”
“Joy that nearly burned down our bakery,” Hazel countered, voice rising. “We need to follow proper channels. Report what we find through official means.”
“Official means?” Nixie scoffed. “Like they’d believe us? ‘Excuse me, Mr. Sheriff, we found a magical book that makes our witch powers go haywire when we touch it.’ We’d be laughed out of town, or worse.”
My fingers traced the rim of my mug, feeling torn between Hazel’s careful pragmatism and Nixie’s bold instincts. “We already have reported it to someone official. Dean knows about the skeleton, and he’s fine with it.”
“Maybe so. But the last witch who owned this place ended up behind a wall,” Nixie continued, gesturing to the still-scorched bricks. Her voice softened. “Maybe she trusted the wrong people.”
“Or maybe using her magic recklessly is what got her killed,” Hazel shot back, then immediately looked stricken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
The kitchen fell silent, the weight of what might have happened to Tansy hanging heavy in the air.
I felt drawn to the wall where we’d found her skeleton, an invisible thread connecting me to the witch who’d come before. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pulled down the same path, secrets, fire, and all.
About Author Tessa Bloom…
She believes every book should include at least one talking object, one stubborn heart, and one moment that makes you laugh out loud when you least expect it.
~~~
Links to Tessa’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Kitchen-Witch-Cracks-Cold-Case-ebook/dp/B0FM66NCXV
Happy Reading!
August 19, 2025
Congratulations Week 07-28-25, 08-4-25, & 08-11-25 Blog Giveaway Winners!
CONGRATULATIONS WEEK
07-28-25, 08-4-25, & 08-11-25
BLOG GIVEAWAY WINNERS!!
Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Daniel Kalla…
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY: Daniel will gift a print copy (U.S. & Canada only) to one lucky reader who comments on his Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.
Thanks, Daniel, for sharing your book with us!
WINNER: TERESA WARNER!!
~~~
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with Helen Starbuck…
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY: Helen will gift an ebook copy of THE WEIGHT OF GUILT to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.
Thanks, Helen, for sharing your book with us!
WINNER: EILEEN AW!!
~~~
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with Courtney Psak…
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY: Courtney will gift an ebook copy of THE TUTOR to two lucky readers who comment on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog.
Thanks, Courtney, for sharing your book with us!
WINNER: ALICIA HANEY & JERRIE ALEXANDER!!
~~~
Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Cynthia Swanson…
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY: Cynthia will gift an ebook copy of ANYONE BUT HER to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.
Thanks, Cynthia, for sharing your book with us!
WINNER: KATHLEEN BYLSMA!!
~~~
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with Amy Rossi..
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY: Amy will gift a print copy (U.S. only) of THE COVER GIRL to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog.
Thanks, Amy, for sharing your book with us!
WINNER: JULIE McDONOUGH!!
~~~
DON’T FORGET TO CHECK OUT THESE BOOKS, TOO!!
~~~
Karen/K.L. Docter’s books stand alone, even in the series. You can read them out of sequence. No cliffhangers. Always Happily Ever After endings!
HAPPY READING!
(All giveaway winners are chosen by random.org from reader comments except Rafflecopter events or giveaways, which are determined and announced offsite by the publisher/authors. Thank you!)
August 18, 2025
Karen’s Killer Book Bench #YA #Supernatural #Suspense: FOREWARNED, A Daphne Ann Post Novel by Tracey S. Phillips
KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
~~~
FOREWARNED
A Daphne Ann Post Novel
BY TRACEY S. PHILLIPS
BLURB
For 15-year-old Daphne Ann Post, the summer of 1976 at Lake Carlson should be filled with new friendships and carefree late-night parties. But something darker lurks beneath the surface—her chilling premonition that someone is going to drown.
~~~
FOREWARNED
A Daphne Ann Post Novel
BY TRACEY S. PHILLIPS
Excerpt
1A Monotone Song
Carlson, Indiana; June 4, 1976: Daphne Ann Post
“Who’s gonna see the lake first?” My mom sang the monotone song ending on a mystery note with a minor third. It conjured the kind of anticipation and excitement I felt watching scary movies. And this time it triggered a new dark melody. I heard it in the sinister thrum of the car’s engine and in the wind roaring through the windows.
Nothing seemed to have changed along East Lake Shore Drive. The winding narrow road that led to Nana’s cottage in Carlson, Indiana was tree lined on the lakeside, farmland on the other. Lush greenery and sprouting corn grew beneath cloud-specked Indiana sky as far as the eye could see. On the breeze, faint smells of cornflowers, manure from nearby farmland, and lakeweed.
Wind from the open car window blew my short haircut, styled like the Olympic ice skater Dorothy Hammill, in every direction. I searched between the trees for the telltale reflection of the sun on the lake. I wanted something happy to cheer me up. Today was my fifteenth birthday.
“Who’s gonna see the lake first?” my mom repeated.
“It’s right there, Marianne.” I’d been calling my mom by her first name since she divorced my dad last year.
“I saw it!” announced my younger brother Brandon. “I saw the lake first!” Brandon was nine and a half. He was born when I was five, and from the moment he could walk, Marianne and Dad expected me to help look after him. Most days it took all three of us to keep track of him.
“Why are you still calling me that, Daphne?” Marianne asked.
I shrugged. The only way I knew how to deal with my rage about the recent divorce was to disassociate from her. To pretend she was just a friend. To call her Marianne.
Despite knowing I’d be expected to babysit my brother and two younger cousins, I usually felt excited about our yearly summer trip. But this year, I resented Marianne for pulling me away. I wanted to celebrate my birthday with Dad. I wanted to start driver’s ed. I wanted to be with my friends.
Who was I kidding? I didn’t have any friends. Not after Ruth turned everyone against me.
Icy dread laced with a sense of danger crept up my arms. Not my typical reaction to approaching the lake for the summer. I loved to water-ski, and I was good at it. I loved to lie on the dock and listen to the water lap against the pillars. I loved the musty, mildewy smell of the cottage. I loved searching for fossils and beads in the clear shallow water.
This chill skittering from my elbows to my hairline evoked a sense of déjà vu. It reminded me of the day my best friend Ruth stopped being my friend.
It’s all your fault, Ruth had said. I’d believed it. My stomach flipped and I wanted to throw up. Ruth made me feel so guilty.
Marianne said, “When we get there, I need help unloading the car before you can play with your cousins.” She glanced in the rearview mirror at Brandon in the back seat. After the divorce, my mom changed her look and started dating again. Today she wore a paisley lace-up top and bell-bottom jeans. Her new shag haircut showed off bright green eyes and long hoop earrings accentuated her high cheekbones.
I looked nothing like my mother.
Between the trees the lake glittered as if sprinkled with shards of broken glass. Lavish summer homes with three- and four-car garages lined the shore. Some, newly remodeled, towered above the rest with third-story additions. Others behind the trees were unpretentious cabins, blending in with the forested shore. An adjacent golf course with green carpet-covered hills smelled like fresh-mowed grass.
Trespassing on the golf course was forbidden. I imagined what it would be like to run on the soft grassy hills in bare feet. I wanted to sit in the gazebo high on the hill on the far side of the fairway. Though I’d never been there, I imagined it had a wonderful view of the lake.
As we drew closer to our cottage, the prickles had fled my arms to reside in my scalp. I tried to ignore the sensation and the feeling of dread. The last time I had feelings like this, my friend Ruth almost died. It happened when I touched her. She had welcomed me into her house, and she’d hugged me. The warning had become so clear in my mind—like the developing image of a Polaroid picture—that I had to tell Ruth. I pleaded with her and tried to stop her from skating on the ice.
Now I wished I’d never said anything. Because maybe then it never would have happened. Maybe if I hadn’t told Ruth, we would still be friends. My cheeks heated with shame and embarrassment, and I turned my face to the open window.
Weirdo. Freak. It was all my fault.
The road wound down a steep hill. At the bottom on the left, our sky-blue Victorian cottage, with its peaked roof and scroll details, was the oldest home on the lake. White window trim popped against the pale blue siding and dark gray shingles. Mowed grass full of pink clover and rows of orange and yellow lilies blooming along the sidewalk led to the familiar screened porch. Gabled windows and a spire on the crest of the roof gave it charm like no other house on the lake.
Duke, our half golden retriever, half collie mutt, knew this road as well as we did. He stuck his long nose out the back window of the Volkswagen bus and the wind blew back his floppy ears. When he snorted into the wind, Brandon cried out, “Gross. Duke blew snot all over my face.” He wiped his face on his shirt sleeve.
“Look, your cousins are already here.” Marianne pulled into the carport, where Auntie Beth and my cousins were unloading their station wagon.
We piled out of the VW bus, and Duke led the way.
“I’m going to play with Sammy,” Brandon said.
“No, you’re not. You need to help unload the car first,” Marianne said.
Brandon opened a white-painted wrought iron gate leading to the yard and ran to Sammy. The two boys body-slammed each other in a frenetic hug, Brandon’s wild blond hair contrasting with Sammy’s neat brown military cut. They chattered and ran toward the lake with Duke at their heels.
“Brandon, what did I say?” Marianne called.
“Happy fifteenth birthday, Daphne.” Auntie Beth pulled a suitcase from the back seat and set it on the driveway. A brown-leather barrette held back her long red hair. She wore a light-orange flower-print T-shirt and overalls. She gave me a warm hug.
“Thanks,” I said. She reminded me that I’d rather be with my dad.
“You’ve grown six inches since I saw you.” Auntie Beth was exaggerating but not by much. I’d grown taller than Marianne this spring. Now I could see the top of my aunt’s head too.
“She’s growing up before our eyes.” Marianne sparkled with something like pride. I chose to ignore it.
My aunt picked up a laundry basket full of bedding and headed toward the house. “Aubenaubee Lodge is open, so come on inside.” Years ago, Nana had named the house after Aubenaubee Creek that ran beside it and into the lake.
“Happy birthday.” Margot, who was twelve, brushed a lock of straight, walnut-brown hair away from her face. “It never feels like summer until we get here.” Her awkward, open-mouth smile revealed a flash of silver from the metal in her mouth.
“You got braces!” I said, “let me see.”
Margot showed them off with a grin more like a grimace. “They hurt and I have headgear.”
“Look what I got.” I tossed my head and pointed to two new, gold-post earrings. Marianne had finally let me pierce my ears.
“I know everyone does it, but I don’t want mine pierced.” Margot held a small gray-blue suitcase. “Did you bring your Breyer horses? Misty of Chincoteague and her foal?”
“Yeah. The two you like best.” I smiled.
“Dad got me a new Breyer horse. She’s a bay with a long mane and tail. I can’t wait to show you.” Margot was on the cusp of putting childish games away, but for some reason she wasn’t quite ready to.
Marianne opened the tailgate of the VW bus and handed me my suitcase. “The house is unlocked. Take your things up to your room and come help with the rest, please. I’ve no doubt the boys aren’t coming back.”
“Okay.” I longed to see the familiar cottage. It reminded me of happier days when my parents still loved each other. Days filled with summer sports and sunshine. Lately, the only activity that gave me joy was playing the piano. “Did Nana tune the piano this spring?”
“I asked Nana about it,” Marianne said. “That old console has seen better days. The technician said it needs too much work.”
My hopes to improve the Chopin Étude crumbled. “How will I practice?”
“There will be other things to do, Daph. You’ll be so busy you won’t even miss it.”
“You don’t know anything!” I pushed open the wrought iron gate and slammed it. This summer was quickly becoming the worst ever. It was Marianne’s fault. No Dad, no friends, and now, no piano. Life sucked.
I passed the little house attached to the back of the carport on the way to our big Victorian cottage and looked over my left shoulder. The neighbor’s house was still dark. The summer renters hadn’t arrived yet. But from the black windows, in the quiet stillness, I heard whispered warnings, and I knew, I just knew, someone in that house would die this summer.
About Author Tracey S. Phillips…
Award winning author, Tracey S. Phillips has played the piano since age three. She considers herself a serial artist who is an avid gardener, musician, piano teacher, artist, and author. She writes psychological thrillers and romantic suspense. In 2020 she created Blackbird Writers, a community of like-minded mystery authors. Tracey is available for speaking engagements and can talk about Indie Publishing, Paranormal Suspense, Writing Multiple Genres, The Importance of Author Groups (to support you and your work). She lives in Wisconsin with her husband and like some of her characters, she occasionally speaks with spirits on the other side.
~~~
Links to Tracey’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/45kX9K1
Website: https://www.traceysphillips.com
Happy Reading!
~~~
Special Giveaway: Tracey will gift a paperback copy (U.S. Only) of FOREWARNED to three lucky readers who comment on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog. Good luck!
~~~
Thanks, Tracey, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 15, 2025
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with THE COVER GIRL, A #Women’s #Historical #Fiction Novel by Amy Rossi #Recipe ~ La Scala Chopped Salad
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **AUTHOR SPECIAL** with AMY ROSSI!
Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, instead of one of my recipes, I will introduce you to a new author who will share a favorite recipe. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll also get a chance to check out some fantastic authors. Introducing author AMY ROSSI and her favorite recipe for La Scala Chopped Salad!
THE COVER GIRL
Coming of Age Women’s Historical Fiction
BY AMY ROSSI
Blurb
Find them early enough, and they will always be her girls.
Birdie Rhodes was only thirteen when legendary modeling agent Harriet Goldman discovered her in a department store and transformed her into one of Harriet’s Girls. What followed felt like the start of something incredible, a chance for shy Birdie to express herself in front of the camera. But two years later, she meets a thirty-one-year-old rock star, and her teenage heart falls hard as he leads her into a new life, despite Harriet’s warnings. Then, as abruptly as it began, it’s over, like a lipstick-smeared fever dream. Birdie tries hard to forget that time—starting over in Paris, in the dying embers of the LA punk scene, in Boston at the height of the AIDS crisis. She’s not that person anymore. At least, that’s what she’s been telling herself.
Decades later, Birdie lives a quiet life. She works modest gigs, takes Pilates and mostly keeps to herself. Maybe it’s not the glamor she once envisioned, but it’s peaceful. Comfortable. Then a letter arrives, inviting Birdie to celebrate Harriet’s fifty-year career. Except Birdie hasn’t spoken to her in nearly thirty years—with good reason.
Almost famous, almost destroyed, Birdie can only make her own future if she reckons with her past—the fame, the trauma, the opportunities she gave up for a man who brought her into a life she wasn’t ready for. Just like she’s not ready now. But the painful truth waits for nobody. Not even Birdie Rhodes.
THE COVER GIRL (MIRA/HarperCollins; on sale: August 5, 2025) is a striking debut novel that explores the dizzying fallout of being seen and not heard in a high-stakes industry that leaves no silhouette unscathed.
THE COVER GIRL
Coming of Age Women’s Historical Fiction
BY AMY ROSSI
ADDITIONAL ADVANCE PRAISE
“Thrilling and glamorous as its runways and backstage parties, The Cover Girl is also heartbreaking and redemptive with an ending that made me cry. Birdie is a singular, unforgettable character whose story encapsulates so much of what led up to the #MeToo movement, and why the movement was so necessary.”
—Ana Reyes, New York Times bestselling author of The House in the
“Who’s to blame when a beautiful girl becomes a rock star’s muse before she can even drive? The Cover Girl is a haunting meditation on the price of fame, the slipperiness of memory, and the long tail of #MeToo. Almost Famous meets She Said, this book will stay with you long after its final page.”
—Alison B. Hart, author of April May June July
“The Cover Girl is an unforgettable, unputdownable, well-told retrospective that pierces the mesmerizing facade of rock star worship, and the glitter and glamour of the beauty and fashion industries. Amy Rossi crafts an intimate story of how one woman confronts her fractured past to heal, emerge and move forward.”
—Monica Chenault-Kilgore, author of The Jewel of the Blues
“The Cover Girl is not just the glossy coming-of-age story of a model and muse. It’s an immersive work of historical fiction, Rossi masterfully capturing the bombastic seventies and eighties, and an expertly woven retrospection, toggling between teenage Birdie Rhodes, blasting onto the modeling scene, and her older self, relegated to acting in drug ads. Rossi circles the enigmatic phenomena that is the It Girl, on the arm of a powerful and significantly older rocker, immortalized in song but forever unknowable, even to her older self. The result is a propulsive and richly layered story that shines a light on the women and girls who become collateral damage for the music, even as the men rock on, and a panoptic reflection on what happens to the cover girl after the world has forgotten her.”
—Katie M. Flynn, author of The Companions and Island Rule
“What happens when you learn to be who other people want you to be long before you learn who you are? Birdie is a muse and a model—by definition, a gauzy projection of someone else’s desires. But The Cover Girl is her reckoning, an attempt to reclaim her story and her identity as her own. For fans of Pretty Baby, this is a rock’n’roll novel that resists a nostalgic lens, an industry takedown that never loses sight of fashion’s artistry, and a story about one woman’s journey to redemption. Birdie’s world might be a rarified one, but her late-in-life liberation is deeply relatable. Immersive, evocative, and profoundly empathetic.”
—Emily Layden, author of Once More from the Top
“The Cover Girl by Amy Rossi is the story of Birdie Rhodes, a teenage girl whose life is upended when she is scouted by a modeling agent at just thirteen. This chance encounter changes the trajectory of Birdie’s life, but most significantly when she is thrown into the orbit of a thirty-year-old rockstar, who quickly convinces Birdie’s parents to make him her guardian. This novel transports the reader to the dizzying worlds of both fashion and music in the 1970s and 80s. But more importantly, it examines the life of a child robbed of her childhood by an industry where girls and their bodies are commodities. For readers who loved Daisy Jones and the Six and My Dark Vanessa, The Cover Girl will be a captivating read.”
—T. Greenwood, author of Such a Pretty Girl, The Still Point, and Keeping Lucy
About Author Amy Rossi…
Amy Rossi received her MFA from Louisiana State University, and she lives in North Carolina, by way of Massachusetts, with her partner and two dogs. The Cover Girl is her first novel.
~~~
Links to Amy’s website, blog, books, #ad, etc.:
Amazon Kindle: https://amzn.to/41HLUsC
Amazon Hardcover: https://amzn.to/3Jxn0pq
~~~
I hope you enjoy Amy’s recipe today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy Eating!Karen
P.S. We’re at 752 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right-hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: If an author’s favorite recipe isn’t their own creation and came from an online site, you will now find the entire recipe through the link to that site as a personal recommendation. Thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
La Scala Chopped Salad
NOTE FROM AMY: Learning about period-appropriate restaurants is one of my favorite parts of historical fiction research, and that’s how I encountered the La Scala chopped salad. Its appearance in The Cover Girl is brief, but the description was so much fun to write. I’ve since discovered the salad is still famous – viral, apparently! – and it’s become my go-to lunch. This recipe offers lots of ways to personalize. When I’m in a hurry, I just dress it with good olive oil and red wine vinegar.
And for the full The Cover Girl experience, serve with a chilled glass of Perrier.
https://kathleenashmore.com/famous-la-scala-chopped-salad/
Happy Reading!
~~~
Special Giveaway: Amy will gift a print copy (U.S. only) of THE COVER GIRL to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog. Good luck!
~~~
Thanks, Amy, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
August 13, 2025
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: ANYONE BUT HER #Ghost #Domestic #Thriller by Cynthia Swanson
KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench, where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site, so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!
~~~
ANYONE BUT HER
Ghost Domestic Suspense Thriller
BY CYNTHIA SWANSON
BLURB
KNOWLEDGE HAS A PRICE…
It’s 1979, and 14-year-old Suzanne, who should be enjoying her first year at Denver East High, is instead reckoning with the aftermath of her mother Alex’s shooting death during a robbery at Alex’s store, Zoe’s Records. A clairvoyant since childhood, Suzanne is unsurprised when Alex’s ghost appears. But when Alex raises alarm bells about Suzanne’s father’s new girlfriend, what Suzanne can’t foresee is the lifelong repercussions as she heeds Alex’s warning.
In 2004, Suzanne returns to Denver with her husband and their two children, a defiant teenage daughter and a 9-year-old son with unspecified cognitive disabilities. When the opportunity arises to rent the old Zoe’s Records space and turn it into a gallery, Suzanne jumps at the chance. While ecstatic to honor Alex’s legacy, Suzanne nonetheless can’t shake the sensation that she’s being watched—while at the same time tackling a clandestine investigation of her own, searching for genetic clues into her family’s hidden past that might lead to a diagnosis for her son.
What if she knows too little? What if she discovers too much?
~~~
ANYONE BUT HER
Ghost Domestic Suspense Thriller
BY CYNTHIA SWANSON
Excerpt
My mother first spoke to me from the grave on an August night shortly after my father began dating Peggy. Mom arrived on a whisper, laden with intention.
“Suzanne.” Her voice broke through the stillness in my room. “It’s me.”
Reflexively, I opened my eyes—but it wasn’t with them that I saw her. I simply knew she was there—and for a moment, it felt like time before. Like she was just checking on me before turning in for the night. I was fourteen years old, and until February twenty-second, my mother had checked on me every night of my life. Leaning close, whispering that she loved me, that I was her everything.
A smile broke across my face. “You’re here!”
“Shh.” I felt rather than saw her press a finger to her lips. “You’ll wake him.”
Her attention turned to my six-year-old brother, Chris, who was tangled in a crimson-colored sleeping bag on the floor. Chris had his own room, next door to mine, but ever since we lost Mom, he often wandered into my room like a sleepwalker and collapsed on my floor. He slept fitfully and woke up crying, crawling into my bed and letting me hold him as he talked about nightmare demons, trolls, dragons—all of whom, Chris explained, waved firearms but never actually shot anything. “They just look like they will,” he said.
Chris rolled over, his breath ragged, but didn’t awaken. “But you finally came,” I whispered to Mom. “I knew you would.”
“I expect you did, my little seer.”
Mom had always called me her “little seer.” Our Queen Anne Victorian house in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood was built in 1888, and inside its walls spirits regularly appeared to me like decades flowing through the ancient rooms. Not far from home was Cheesman Park, which had been built on a desecrated paupers’ graveyard; rumors of ghosts abounded. When I was small, Mom would take me on twilight walks in the park. “Tell me what you see, Suze,” she’d implore.
Toddling after her, using my limited vocabulary, I’d attempt to explain that I didn’t actually see ghosts with my eyes. Rather, I envisioned some essence of them—something more than light but less than human. Energy, you might call it, an energy that manifested in impressions, whispers, shadows cast on floor or field.
“I believe you, my little seer,” Mom would reply. “I wish it happened for me, too.”
Since her death, I’d been expecting Mom to show up. Not alive, but more real than she’d been since the night six months ago when a lowlife junkie named Robert Shelton entered Zoe’s Records, Mom’s hole-in-the-wall record store on Colfax Avenue, demanded all her cash, and wound up shooting her three times in the chest.
One, two, three.
I felt those three bullets—a lot. Felt their searing heat. Since Mom’s death, I always slept on my side. I couldn’t be chest up—too vulnerable. And I couldn’t be chest down. Too painful.
I closed my eyes, knowing I could better focus on Mom’s ghost that way. She spoke more distinctly than any spirit I’d ever sensed, using Mom’s warm, round voice—like the sun speaking. I felt the presence of her long, honey-brown hair and amber eyes, her narrow shoulders and wide hips. Three scarlet blossoms, like red anemones, burst across the front of her faded flannel shirt. Knowing she sensed me sensing them, I heard her say, “I’m sorry about those. I can’t seem to make them go away.”
Opening my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat, I said, “It’s okay.”
I felt her hand brush across my forehead. “You’re beautiful as ever, Suzie Blue.”
“I’ve been waiting,” I said. “Why didn’t you come sooner?”
“I couldn’t.” She paused. “You know, when I was alive, I was uncertain what the afterlife would bring, but somehow I didn’t think it would be this. On this side, nothing’s in your control.”
“That must be a hardship for you,” I said, and she laughed.
I pressed a hand to my chest. “I miss you so much, Mom. It’s not the same without you.”
“I think that’s why I’m here. Because of tonight.”
“What about tonight?”
Mom paused again. “I saw your dad with that woman. That Peggy Hicks.”
“Oh,” I replied.
About Author Cynthia Swanson…
Cynthia Swanson writes psychological thrillers, often using historical settings. Cynthia’s debut novel, The Bookseller, was a New York Times bestseller, an Indie Next selection, the winner of the 2016 WILLA Literary Award for Historical Fiction, and is slated to be a motion picture produced by Julia Roberts. Cynthia’s second novel, The Glass Forest, was a USA Today bestseller that has been noted in Forbes as being one of “Five Novels With a Remarkably Strong Sense of Place.” Her third novel, Anyone But Her, won the 2025 Colorado Book Award (Thriller) and was named 2024 Best Mystery/Thriller by the Indie Author Project. Cynthia is the editor of the Colorado Book Award winning anthology Denver Noir, which features dark, morally ambiguous stories set in and around Denver, Colorado, written by 14 notable literary and mystery authors. Cynthia lives with her family in Denver.
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Links to Cynthia’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:
Anyone But Her is available in print, ebook, and audio. Grab your copy from any of these retailers:
Your favorite independent bookselle
(find one via Indie Bound)
Website: www.cynthiaswansonauthor.com
Bluesky: cynswanauthor
Substack: The What If Journal
Happy Reading!
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Special Giveaway: Cynthia will gift an ebook copy of ANYONE BUT HER to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog. Good luck!
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Thanks, Cynthia, for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
