Thursday, January 10, 2019

Five Stars for the Penhallow Train Incident

What can I say? I’m honored that one of my favorite authors loved my cozy mystery/romantic suspense The Penhallow Train Incident. 

Here’s a bit of her FIVE-STAR review:

I read a lot of mysteries, and I have to say, I fell for some of the red herrings in this book. :) A great read!”

In the sleepy Maine town of Penhallow, a stranger dies on a train, setting off a chain of events that draws Rachel Tinker, director of the historical society, and Griffin Tate,  retired professor, into a spider’s web of archaeological obsession and greed. Before Rachel can unlock the soft heart that beats under Griffin’s hard crust, they must find the map to the Queen of Sheba’s tomb, and solve not one, but three murders.

You can read the rest of the December 2018 review on Amazon here:

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Is He a Handyman? Or Something Else? Excerpt from For the Love of a Spy

Is he a handyman? Or something else? Maris wades into international intrigue to find out.

I admit it: For the Love of a Spy was born out of a delicious dream. I woke slowly, savoring the romance, and latching onto the last line. It is in fact, the last line of the story. But you have to read the whole book to get to it. Thankfully, there’s quite a lot of good stuff—adventure, action, and romance—to help you through.


Maris Graystone, Washington pundit, meets Michael Kinder, handyman with an air of mystery, and sparks fly. But he appears unpredictably, leaving Maris limp and lovelorn.  Looking for safe harbor, she yields to Émile, a dashing French diplomat. Will she embrace the luxury and comfort of Émile and his chateau or the romance of international intrigue with Michael?


Excerpt: Zagreb

Something is wrong. He cares about me, of that I’m sure. So what is it?
In the beginning, a lifetime ago and before they surrendered to their desire, he had said something about it being neither the time nor the place. What did he mean? She didn’t want to know just yet, but she would ask him. Yes, when he wakes up.
Over his shoulder, she glimpsed the clock—five p.m. We’ve been in bed for four hours! She sat bolt upright. He hadn’t fixed her air conditioner. He hadn’t called his office. She hadn’t finished her column. What on earth were they thinking? Or on what other planet? Did we beam up to Mars, where this sort of behavior is acceptable?
She shook him. “It’s late. You have to go.”
He came instantly awake. His azure eyes fastened on hers; his arms went automatically around her.
She felt herself slipping into their world but fought it. “You have to go!”
He kissed her tenderly. “I know. I have to…pack. I have to go.”
“I’m leaving Thursday. I told you.”
“No, you didn’t.” Maris wanted to be indignant, but in the back of her mind, a little voice nagged that he was right. “But—where are you going?”
He opened his mouth and closed it. He peered at her, his eyes questioning. Finally, he said flatly, “To Zagreb.”
“Zagreb? As in, Yugoslavia? Why?”
“It’s not important.” His serious tone told her that it was indeed important, but it also stopped her from asking any more questions.

Buy Links:

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Lapses of Memory: A Trailer

Watch this beautiful short trailer:

Five stars for Flotsam & Jetsam!


Image result for clutching pearl image

I just found a fabulous five-star review for Flotsam & Jetsam: the Amelia Island Affair, on NetGalley. Barbara T. says:

“This book has it all. A smidgeon of romance. A murder or two or more. Drugs, lies, sinister plots, friends, family, history, interesting factoids, and so much more. Entertaining, amusing, and page turning.”

Read this and another great review here:

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

For the Love of a Spy: A New Excerpt--Tailed

When Maris Graystone, author of the political column The Scrivener, and the mysterious Michael Kinder, meet, sparks fly. Their love affair intensifies against the backdrop of the dramatic world events of 1991. Michael appears and disappears at unpredictable moments, leaving Maris limp and lovelorn. Looking for safe harbor for her emotions and her body, she accepts the advances of a dashing French diplomat.

Torn between the luxury and comfort of Émile and his Paris flat, and the romance of international intrigue with Michael, she must choose…but which one?

To celebrate the release of For the Love of a Spy: the Scrivener and the Handyman I thought I’d treat you to an excerpt.

Our heroine, Maris, is in Paris when she gets a strange telephone call telling her a man is dead. She fears it’s the man she loves, but the caller did not specify. She is distraught, then afraid.

Excerpt: Tailed

She had to get out of the apartment. She grabbed her purse and stumbled down the broad circular stairway, running blindly down the street. At the end of the block, she turned left, heading toward the Place de l’Opéra. She crossed the busy square before the Opera House and made her way down the Boulevard des Capucines to the Madeleine. She found a bench and tried to calm down.
She regarded the Napoleonic-era church with sad eyes. Normally, its perfectly balanced Greek lines soothed her. Not today.
As she worked on her breathing, a tall man in a heavy, fur-trimmed coat sat down on the bench next to her. He stared straight ahead. Maris watched him, a little perplexed that a Frenchman would ignore a beautiful woman sitting beside him. Oh well, I’m not exactly well-coiffed this morning.
She stood up abruptly, and the man rose as well. She turned down the Rue Royale, heading toward the Place de la Concorde. Something made her turn around. The man was right behind her, matching her stride. She went right at the circle and headed up Avenue Gabriel. He still followed her. She noticed he wore dark glasses—hardly necessary in the pale autumn light. She quickened her pace. Her heart pounded. What is going on? Could this be the man who had called her? Why hadn’t he spoken to her then? Should I stop and see what he wants? No! Every instinct screamed. Don’t let him catch up with you.
She ducked into a linen shop, people crowding in behind her. They were apparently having a sale. Maris sidestepped a diminutive Frenchwoman with hennaed hair towering in outrage at the proprietor’s unwillingness to come down on the price of a tablecloth, and crouched behind a display case, hoping no one would draw attention to her strange behavior.
She waited a full ten minutes, panting raggedly. When at last she steeled herself to peek over the case, the man was nowhere to be seen. At the door, she peered right and left. No sign of him. She insinuated herself into a crowd of tourists heading down the avenue de Marigny. A sign on her right said Le Marché des Timbres. I remember this. It’s the open-air stamp market I used to go to that year I was in school at Sèvres. She turned into it.
The kiosks were closed. Oh, right—it’s open on Thursdays. That was my day off from school. What day was it, anyway? Friday. Friday? Now, what…Oh no. She’d almost forgotten the state dinner with the Russian delegation tomorrow night.
Émile had told her to find a suitable dress, a formal gown. She took one last sweep of her surroundings. Whoever her stalker was, he must have given up. Hopefully for good. that???

I Heart Publishing, Dec. 27, 2018
Romantic suspense; Action/Adventure; Contemporary Romance; Spies/Espionage
220 pp.; ebook 74,000 words
Spicy (PG-13); 3 flames