Linda Crowder's Blog

Russell Specialty Books and Gifts

Every author has dreamed about opening a bookstore, but not many actually do it. On December 1, 2019 I launched a tiny bookstore in my tiny new hometown of Russell, Kansas. Our claim to fame is being the childhood home of Senator Bob Dole, who still has a house here though I don’t know how often he visits.

I have to thank all of the readers who bought my Jake and Emma books last year because on the strength of those sales, I was able to open the store. I carry a variety of authors, highlight Indy authors – especially mystery writers – and have a good selection of Kansas and World War II history.

The good news is the store was holding it’s own, serving people from a 60 mile radius because that’s how far you’d have to drive to find the nearest bookstore. The challenging news is that Kansas started a statewide stay at home on March 30. My county designated my bookstore a necessity because of the wealth of educational books and materials I carry but sales were less than half what they had been. My career consulting, which had been supporting the store and keeping me from dipping into my reserve, virtually disappeared.

It’s a story you are probably hearing in your own home towns because Indy booksellers are hurting everywhere. Wherever you are, I hope you’re seeking out and supporting your local bookstore.

You would think I’d be writing up a storm with business so slow but there’s so much stress in the air, it’s hard to write Caribou King, who is funny and lighthearted. I have book three plotted out, I’ve done the research and I’ve had her and Dan find “the body” so think kind thoughts for me and I know I can carry her through her next adventure.

Readers have been asking if there will be a seventh book in my Jake and Emma series and I’m happy to say, YES! I have a rough idea what’s in store for them but my focus right now is on Cara. Expect Jake and Emma in time for Christmas.

When the travel bans lift, if you’re ever passing Russell on I-70, come downtown and see me!

The Best Day in an Author’s Life

Someone asked me last week what was the best day I’ve ever experienced as an author. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. There are, however, a few that stick out.

The first time I held one of my books in my hands – I have read thousands of books over the years and I love the feel of a paperback in my hands. The first time I opened a box from the printer and pulled out a book with my name on the cover, I thought my heart was going to stop. With each book I publish, I love the first time I see it in print, but nothing beats the first time with the first book.

The first time I got an email from a reader – When I finally sold enough books that I knew people outside my circle of family and friends must be reading them, it was thrilling. The first time I got an email from someone who had read one of my books, letting me know she enjoyed it and was looking forward to the next one, I think I cried. I’ve been blessed with many emails since, and each one touches my heart. Even the ones who very kindly point out typos (thank you for letting me know) are special because someone cared enough to let me know.

The first time I topped a best-seller list – You don’t make much money as an author unless you’re a big name and my name is very small so when a major promo site ran one of my books, it was a genuine event. Murder on Main Street was #1 in Amazon’s free bookstore and Murder is Just the Beginning was the #1 best-selling cozy mystery. I still have the screenshots and the couch I bought with the proceeds. Main Street was also #1 at Barnes and Noble.

Every single time I type the last sentence in a rough draft – When I begin a book, it’s with great hope and energy. In the middle, it’s tough slogging. By the time I get to the final chapter, I feel like throwing a party! I set the book aside for a week before diving back in for the first of many re-writes and edits, but finishing the first draft is assurance that yes, there really will be a book.

Jake and Emma get a facelift

Life has been hectic this past year, both for me and for my accidental detectives! To celebrate my return to writing and the publication of book six, Murder is Forever, I’ve done a complete remodel of the series.

You’ll find new titles and new covers when you look at Jake and Emma now. You don’t have to buy the new versions – the stories inside haven’t changed – but let me give you a tour of the new series.

Murder is Just the Beginning – Formerly Too Cute to Kill

Murder on Main Street – Formerly Main Street Murder

Murder is Never Forgotten – Formerly Justice for Katie

Together these three books form the Casper Crime Boss Trilogy. These are not cliffhangers because the central mystery is resolved in each book, while some detective work still remains.

Murder Changes Everything – Formerly Death Changes Everything

Murder Casts the Ballot – Formerly Body on the Ballot

Welcome to my new website

I’m a writer, not a web designer, so I hope you won’t be too distracted by my use of templates. It’s been an interesting journey as I’ve transitioned my website onto this platform and if you’ve been trying to find me in the past couple of months, my apologies for being “under construction.”

Please take a look around the site, kick the tires, click on links and then come back and tell me what you think. What do you like? What would you like to see that isn’t here?

For those who use sites other than Amazon to purchase my books, I plan to have those links on the site as soon as I can master it. For now, please feel free to look me up on iTunes, Barnes & Noble and Kobo.

Diving into Audio

I’ve been publishing mysteries since 2012, but this month marks a new first – I’ve got an audio version available! It’s been a terrific journey and I can’t wait to hear what you think.

Check out the audio of The Deadly Art of Deception then come back and post a comment about it. Don’t have Audible? You can get my book free when you do a free trial. Win-win for everybody, right?

This is the first book of my Caribou King Mysteries, set in the mythical cruise ship town of Coho Bay, Alaska, published by Cozy Cat Press. Cara is surprised when her old friend Taylor shows up at the end of the season. Taylor’s husband, Cara’s childhood friend, had been killed in a bear attack the previous year and when his father accused Taylor of orchestrating Johnny’s death, she’d left town in a hurry. Now she’s back and while no one believes Jack’s drunken ravings, there’s definitely something she’s not being honest about. When a mutilated corpse is pulled from the Bay, an icy chill sweeps through the town and suddenly everyone — even Cara’s sister, Mel — seems to be hiding something.

Who can you trust when it seems everyone is lying?

Speaking of Caribou…. I just finished the first re-write of book two, The Deadly Art of Love & Murder and I’m heading into the second today. After that, it’s in the hands of a few trusted beta readers, re-write number three then off to my publisher for their editor. Look for the book in September if all goes according to plan. (Yeah, right. When does my life ever go according to plan?)

What about Jake & Emma? I’m so happy you enjoy this series and don’t worry. While I’m working through the final stages of Caribou, I’ll be starting work on book six. It doesn’t have a title yet, but let me give you a snapshot of the story.

Grace returns to California on mysterious business but when someone tries to kill her, Emma & Jake drop everything to come to her aid. Will his loyalty to his wife’s mentor cost Jake the election for County Attorney? Meanwhile, Matt gets a job offer that would take him out of Casper. It’s a great opportunity, but when Kristy hesitates, will he turn it down to stay with her?

What I’m Reading

One of the things I get as an Amazon Prime member is a preview book each month. I admit, I rarely take advantage of this because the books they offer haven’t really appealed to me. This month though, I’m reading their P.S. From Paris, by Marc Levy. It’s a bit different from most of the books I read, since I am a mystery-junkie, but I’m enjoying it so far. It’s the story of an American man and British woman, both in Paris and both at an emotional cross-roads. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Mystery: Written!

Last month I asked readers to submit the first line of a mystery with the expectation that the second line would be “and then the murders started.” I was overwhelmed with the response and there is more than one story in my future, I can tell! However, the “winner” is Ashley P, who submitted the following:

All of Main Street showed up at Paws and Claws to admire the tuna-and-pâté cake for Mr. Whisker’s birthday extravaganza, but the old cat didn’t seem to be impressed with what should have been another prize-winning creation.

This simple beginning morphed in my warped mystery writer brain into the short story, Paws & Claws. Here’s how it starts:

All of Middleton seemed to have shown up at Paws & Claws to join the extravaganza celebrating twenty-one years of life with Mr. Paws. The old cat hadn’t seemed impressed with the tuna-and-pâté creation Sissy invented for the occasion but he’d sat regally on the counter, accepting the fishy treats, catnip toys and accolades. One by one, well-wishers had taken their turn in front of him, but none had drawn more than a passing sniff from the tabby.

Mr. Paws might not be the oldest cat in the world, but he was by far the oldest anyone in Middleton could remember, so it seemed a shame it was on his birthday the murders started. It seemed doubly sad the first victim was Sissy, but when I walked into the store early the next morning, there she was, laying lifeless in a pool of her own blood, splattered with leftover pâté, Mr. Paws nowhere to be seen.

I’d been at the party, of course. I never miss a chance to eat and while Sissy may not have been my favorite, I never walked away from her with an empty stomach. Mr. Paws might have appreciated her efforts more if he’d been eating out of garbage cans, but my old friend had been spoiled and pampered all his life. I’d made a pig of myself yesterday, but after my morning constitutional, I decided to pop in to help Sissy with the leftovers.

My momentary sadness at the loss of an easy meal ticket didn’t stop me from giving the pâté a sniff, careful where I put my paws, but even I couldn’t stomach the smell so I went looking for Mr. Paws. I nudged open a supply closet Sissy usually kept unlatched for when he desired a quick getaway, but there was no sign of him. The tiny room looked painfully clean, as most things did once Sissy got her hands on them. The shop had been a pleasantly dusty used book store when her Uncle Pete ran it. After he died, she’d gone through with mop, bucket and broom, and while it smelled better, it didn’t seem to attract more customers.

“Books are dying,” Mr. Paws had lamented once, but since I couldn’t eat them and they were uncomfortable to sleep on, I had never had much use for books. I wasn’t sure how something inanimate could die, but if they did, I had hoped Sissy would convert the place into a pet supply shop. Didn’t seem much chance of that happening now.

Mr. Paws had been devoted to Pete and had only tolerated Sissy, but then, Pete had eyes for only one cat while Sissy had lavished attention on any animal who would give her the time of day. Her infidelity had been only one of a laundry list of things he hadn’t liked about his new caretaker. He’d tried to read the entire list to everyone who came into the shop, but people have a habit of ignoring what cats have to say.

The only thing the new shop had in common with the old was the presence of the massive gray tabby so his absence now left a deafening silence. That disturbed me much than the presence of the dead woman. I climbed to the top of one of the bookcases and surveyed the room. “Mr. Paws?” I bellowed. My volume would have gotten shoes thrown at me had I been on a backyard fence. You have to be careful where you howl. Some people have no appreciation for music.

I waited but heard no meow in response. Leaping lightly from bookcase to bookcase, I headed to the office. “Paws, are you in here?” Nothing. I always say, leave no stone unturned, so I jumped onto the counter and pushed hard against the door of the mini fridge until it fell open. Mr. Paws wasn’t curled up inside, but there was a chicken breast in an open plastic container and I wasted no time dispatching it. No reason to let it go to waste.

Belly full, I sat licking my paws, surveying the office, which looked as though someone had picked it up and shaken it. When Sissy’d gone on her health food kick, she’d dragged Mr. Paws along with her. In retaliation, the old tabby had engaged in guerilla warfare, scrambling the carefully laid out items on her desk and pilfering office supplies, but he was not the tornado that hit this place. Whoever had plunged the knife in Sissy’s chest had ransacked her office. The hair along the back of my neck stood on end. I needed to find my friend.

I headed for the shelves where Sissy kept used textbooks, the layer of dust covering them a testament to customer indifference. I squeezed in behind the books and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. How the rotund tabby had managed to get back here without knocking anything off the shelf was a mystery. A pair of scissors, a stapler, two tape dispensers, a huge pile of rubber bands and a small stack of mail were sitting right where they’d been the last time I’d checked out the stash, but there was no sign of Mr. Paws.

The bell on the front door rang. There were a few footsteps and then screaming. I flattened myself and covered my ears with my paws. Why do humans scream? It isn’t as though if this woman could just scream loudly enough, Sissy would leap up and tell her to stop, though I’d bet if she could have done so, she would have. Sissy never cared for hysterics. The dead woman must have been the only person in a four block radius who didn’t come running, because it wasn’t long before the store was standing room only.

Once sirens could be heard in the distance, the tone shifted from shock to curiosity. There was speculation about whether the cash drawer had been rifled and whether there would be more break-ins at other stores. There didn’t seem to be a lot of grief. Poor Sissy. You never know how little people care until you’re murdered in your own bookstore. Now her uncle Pete – his was a murder people had cared about, though the sobbing over his death hadn’t done Pete any more good than the lack of tears was hurting Sissy now. Dead was dead no matter whether people were grieved by it or not.

I don’t really care about dead humans and I only care about live ones long enough to determine whether they want to feed me or chase me away. I do care about cats and not one person in the bookstore mentioned Mr. Paws. It irritated me to think how they had gushed over him yesterday and today, not one of them bothered to notice he was missing. I sneezed. People give me hives.

I weaved my way unnoticed through the throng and went out the way I’d come in, through a kitty door that opened onto the alley. I put my nose to the ground, trying to pick up my friend’s scent, but all I could smell was asphalt and tires. What I needed was a top of the line tracking nose. Fortunately, I knew just where to find one.

Want to read the rest of the story? email me at linda@307Publishing.com and tell me you read the start of the story on my blog. I’ll send you the PDF of the entire story. Want to be sure you get first dibs on future stories? Subscribe to my mailing list.

What I’m Writing

I’ve finished the first draft of The Deadly Art of Love and Murder which is the second in my Caribou King Mysteries, published by Cozy Cat Press. It’s got a lot of work before it will be off to the publisher, but it’s always a celebration to finish a first draft. It’s good timing too, because the audio version of the first book, The Deadly Art of Deception, will soon be released. If you like audio, be sure to subscribe to my newsletter because you might score a free copy!

What I’m Reading

I know. I’m really late to the party, but I’ve started the Sue Grafton alphabet series. I’m almost finished with A is for Alibi but I see she has all the way through to Y is for Yesterday (on pre-order) so I’ll be reading her on and off for awhile.

Let’s write a mystery!

I sent a request to my newsletter subscribers and I’m going to open it up to you too!

I’ve been seeing something travel through social media – #AndThenTheMurdersStarted – and I thought it would be fun to write a short story based on one of these ideas. Here’s all you have to do – submit your suggestion for the first line of the story in the comments, followed of course by “and then the murders started.” I’ll gather all of the ideas and write a short story to send to my newsletter subscribers in July. So if you aren’t on my newsletter list, take a minute to sign up so you can get the story too!

That’s it! Let’s write a mystery!

What I’m Reading

My 9 year-old niece is staying with me and she loves to read so when school let out, she and I went to the library and signed her up for one of my favorite past-times when I was 9, the summer reading program. Our library even has an adult reading program so my niece, my husband and I all signed up. We’re taking 20+ minutes at the end of our day to turn off all the electronics (except my Kindle) and READ. I’ve read 3 or 4 books in the week since we started, catching up on my “to read” slush pile. Follow me on Goodreads to see what I’m reading.

Review – A Flair for Drama

I haven’t had much time to read lately. We have company staying with us and you know how hectic that can be! However, I had to drop everything when I got the notice that the second Sadie was out!

A Flair for Drama follows the adventures of an older sleuth, Sadie Kramer, as she travels south this time along the California coast. She’s visiting an old friend who’s stage manager at a new production. Sadie, ever the dramatist herself, jumps feet first into a mystery that wasn’t part of the script when the leading lady is found dead. The star of this second installment in all things Sadie isn’t the sleuth but her adorable four-legged companion, Coco, who steals the show on-stage and off.

I love Deborah Garner’s writing and I have been anticipating the release of this book for months. It’s a wonderful way to spend a Saturday.

Watching the birds

I loved living in California, where I could be awed by the enormity of the ocean and blessed by roses that bloomed year-round, but you can’t really appreciate spring in a place where it’s never winter. Spring is God’s gift for surviving winter!

One of my favorite parts of spring is watching the songbirds return from their winter homes in the south. The first this year, as usual, were the meadowlarks. Western meadowlark is the Wyoming state bird — and it’s the state bird of several other states so our love of this beauty is not unique. The male has a bright yellow chest and a loud, distinctive song that cuts through the cold with a promise of summer. Meadowlarks are beautiful all summer long and I almost cry every fall when I realize they’ve gone.

The sparrows and finches were next this year, beating out the robins by at least a week. I felt sorry for the little guys when it snowed on them at the feeder but they didn’t seem to mind. The robins came in, bold and brassy, followed by the chickadees. In the evenings, the nighthawks call to me as I watch the spectacular spring sunsets. I heard a downy woodpecker, though I didn’t see him, but I’ve yet to hear our resident hummingbird zoom by. He’s one I normally hear, but only catch a glimpse of as he shoots by on his way to cat-free zones.

It’s a bit distracting to watch the birds as I sit at my desk, struggling to write about Caribou King’s winter storms, but it’s a pleasing distraction. I hope you are watching and listening for the birds wherever you are today.

Snow in April is Just Not Fair!

“You have got to be kidding,” groaned Emma Rand as she stood at the bedroom window, gazing dispiritedly out on a landscape that looked more like February than May. Yesterday, she had been exploring her flower beds, welcoming each tulip and daffodil that heralded the coming of spring.

Sometime during the night it had started to snow, and it had kept on snowing. “There must be two feet out there,” Emma said, “and it’s still coming down. I can’t even see the mountain.”

Her husband mumbled incoherently. Emma turned away from the window and crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed. “Jake, wake up. You’re going to have to drive me to work.” Jake mumbled again and pulled the quilt over his head. Emma nudged him, but there was no response. She tugged the quilt down to his shoulders and kissed his cheek. Nothing. She stroked his shoulder and blew softly in his ear. He swatted at her and snuggled more deeply into the bed.

Emma sat up and gave Jake a playful push, “We have obviously been married too long. You’re immune to my womanly charms.”

Emma yelped when Jake’s arm shot from beneath the quilt and wrapped around her waist. He pulled her onto the bed and gave her startled lips a hungry kiss. Emma giggled and smiled up into her husband’s no-longer-sleepy eyes. “That’s more like it,” she told him.

Excerpt from Main Street Murder

Like Emma, there are times when I think snow is beautiful. In December, it can blizzard all it wants and I’m happy. I wander around the house singing about snowmen, sleigh rides and Jack Frost but come February, snow turns ugly. In March, it’s annoying but by April it seems downright unfair. The weekend of Mother’s Day a few years ago, we had a wholloper of a blizzard that killed hundreds of trees all over town and quite a few on my own acreage. There’s nothing you can really do with a snow like that except put it in a book.

Last year we had a pretty warm winter but this year, it’s been cold. I don’t mind the cold but I could do without the wind, even if it does help make Wyoming a powerhouse in green energy. We hadn’t had much snow until March, which is normally our wettest month of the year so we were happy to see it. Just as Emma welcomes each tulip and daffodil in her yard, I’ve been doing that too. The bushes are leafing out and the trees are threatening to join them. Who doesn’t love to see their lilacs starting to show tiny buds that will grow into the most fragrant flower in the garden?

Then April came and it started snowing and it’s snowed for all four days so far. The weatherman keeps saying it’s going to stop and soar up to 70 degrees but I don’t really believe him. The chickadees, meadowlarks and robins who’ve returned to us from wherever they go every winter, peck at the suet and the seed I’ve hung for them out of reach of the cats and puff up against the cold. I think they’re getting pretty fed up with the snow too.

I think I’ll go back to Alaska, at least in my writing, where it’s snowing on Caribou King but at least it’s November there so it’s supposed to be snowing!