Saturday, February 12, 2022

Penhallow Train Incident at the Winter Readers Challenge

Riders up! Only two more days to go before the Winter Reader Review Challenge. Take deep breaths and exercise those fingers for turning pages. I’m taking this opportunity to give you a bit of background on my featured book The Penhallow Train Incident.


The Penhallow Train Incident is set on the coast of Maine in the fictional town of Penhallow. Midcoast Maine sits right about where the state begins to change from heading due north to “down East.”  The land is quite different from the southern beaches or the North Woods. Fronting Penobscot Bay, it is a region of lakes, farms, small villages, and lobstermen.  Most people have lived there for generations, and refer to anyone who moves to Maine from elsewhere as “from away.” Rachel Tinker and her hero Griffin Tate are both from away, but when a series of murders roils their adopted town, they spring into action.

If you’re not participating in the Winter Reader  Challenge, or want to buy The Penhallow Train Incident to read at your leisure, it is on sale at Amazon for 99 cents from now through the duration of the challenge. Amazon



If you're interested in the Reader Challenge, here is the Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/364535027526617


Friday, February 11, 2022

The Penhallow Train Incident On Sale This Month!

ON SALE!

A corpse on a train, hidden treasure, & the search for the Queen of Sheba’s tomb make for romance and adventure in coastal Maine. 


The Penhallow Train Incident by M. S. Spencer @msspencerauthor #CozyMystery #wrpbks 

On sale at Amazon for 99cents from February 11 to March 18!

https://amazon.com/Penhallow-Train-Incident-M-Spencer-ebook/dp/B01BOBX5NC


Sunday, February 6, 2022

Zelda, Zelda, Zelda

 


Bumbershoot 


It's supposed t o be three strikes
That we can deal with
Us women
But when they come fast and furious
Strike after strike
Decimating
Like the Dresden
Bombing
Even a woman falters
And you realize that a woman is only as strong

As the man who holds the umbrella over her head.

12/12/14

Saturday, February 5, 2022

Zelda Knows Me

 I love my Zelda poems. Zelda is not an alter ego--she's her own swashbuckling, crazy, free-spirited wacko who tells it like it is and often like it isn't. Completely, utterly politically oblivious. And she's got my number :). Here's Zelda:



Negotiation

Shut up, says Zelda 
I've heard enough
I want to neck with Bubba here and you're interfering
With your gurgling and burbling and general
Sighing
Shut up
He didn't love you
He didn't even like you
Okay?
You want me to clarify?
He's a moron.
A given, says I.
You're a moron.


Negotiable.

Zelda poem for Romantics

 A friend from college wrote me today about my poetry--poetry from those halcyon college years. I thought I'd check my page here for poems and found this one. I think it's the kind that those of you who have loved and lost or even loved and stayed, might read and like.

The Empty Wind

Listen, hear that?
What, Zelda?
The wind. It's sighing.
I cock an ear.
Sounds more like whistling.

No. It's the sad wind, the forlorn wind
The wind of dying dreams.
It sighs for never loves.

What rubbish. What are 'never loves' anyway?

You don't know? They're the people who
Long to love and never find it who
Pray for love, wish on stars for love, look into each face that passes
Thinking, "He's the one."
The one who wakes up each morning believing that today will be the day when
He'll meet her
Their eyes will lock and he will whisper, "She's the one."
They never give up.

Well, that's just stupid. At some point isn't it better to move on?
Fashion your own life?
Make your own way?

Zelda stubbed her cigar out. "Tell me something.
What's the first thing you think about when you wake?

Breakfast.
Liar.
Okay, the weather.

Tommy brings a fresh drink to Zelda. She tosses it in my lap.
Used to this treatment, I mop it up and order another.
A pregnant silence ensues.  I know
From experience
That Zelda cannot stand pregnant silences. I wait.
"Liar." She spits it out unwillingly.
"Yes. I think of him."
She leans forward, cheeks tense,
Chin wobbly.
"Him? Who?"

"Him who isn't afraid. Him whose eyes light up when challenged.
Who has a story to match every story, but remembers
All mine. The man with a mind that never sleeps
Except with me.

Zelda sips her martini.
The wind whips the curtains into dust devils.
Far out in the bay a water spout rises, rips the clouds apart,
and falls back exhausted into the deep.

Finally she says
Never love.
I know, Zelda. I know.