Writers Who Kill

A Return to Mythology

2026-08-18T00:30:00.000-04:00

by Paula Gail Benson

I was excited to see The Odyssey as the big summer movie. I remember the joy I had reading Bernard Evslin’s The Trojan War, and very much anticipate watching Christopher Nolan’s adaptation.

Maybe another reason I feel “connected” to Nolan’s production is through the actor Logan Marshall-Green, who plays Melanthius, Odysseus’ disloyal goatherd. Logan and his twin brother, Taylor, are the children of my high school drama teacher, Lowry Marshall, and my college theatre director, Russell Green. I saw the twins as babies not long after they were born. After divorcing, Lowry moved to Rhode Island, where she taught students John F. Kennedy, Jr., and John Krasinski at Brown University. Fortunately, Facebook allowed me to reconnect with her a few years before she passed away. I know she would be tremendously proud of Logan.

Madeline Miller’s books The Song of Achilles and Circe drew me back to mythological reading. Miller’s work brings the stories to a modern audience. She’s extremely skilled at character development and helping readers understand what motivated these mythic and somewhat mysterious beings. I had the chance to meet her when she attended the Decatur Book Festival and was very impressed she had spent some time at Yale School of Drama to learn how to better portray scenes and action.

Currently on my bookshelf is the adult debut novel I, Medusa by New York Times best selling author Ayana Gray. The first book in her speculative young adult series, Beast of Prey, has been optioned by Netflix for a series. In I, Medusa, Gray explores the origin story of a young woman who becomes an acolyte for the goddess Athena then falls from grace.

Recently, I’ve come across another novel reinventing mythology. Ungodly Rich by Katharine McGee is recommended by People and Woman’s World magazines. It’s the contemporary story of Julia Dodds, a young woman working as a tour guide, who meets Harry Adams, an adventurer. There is instant chemistry. After they begin living together, Harry asks her to come home with him to meet his folks. The parents happen to be Zeus and Hera and Harry is actually Ares. How Julia navigates the modern pitfalls of becoming involved with the gods of Olympus is the story.

I’m looking forward to reading Gray’s and McGee’s books. I’m wondering how those works should be categorized. McGee’s sounds as if it might be considered “romantasy,” a combination of romance and fantasy. But is myth categorized as fantasy? Maybe it should be a corollary of speculative fiction called “mythic fiction.” What do you think?

Returning to CozyLand - The Joys and Challenges of Writing Cozies by Kassandra Lamb

2026-08-17T00:00:00.000-04:00

Returning to CozyLand ~ The Joys and Challenges of Writing Cozies by Kassandra Lamb

I recently had a little chat with myself about whether I should retire from writing. My third series is winding down (four if you count the romantic suspense I’ve written as Jessica Dale), and I was debating where to go next. I decided to go back to writing “just for fun,” and not worry so much about the business end of things.

And “fun” writing meant cozies for me. Why do I enjoy them so much?

First, they are more lighthearted than other subgenres of mysteries. The characters don’t take themselves quite so seriously, even though they’re still trying to solve a murder (or two or three).

And this ties into my second reason. The main character can be spunky, sometimes even snarky. My second series, The Marcia Banks and Buddy Mysteries, were cozies, and the MC, a service dog trainer, even had an alter ego whom she dubbed Ms. Snark.

In this new series, The Aging Ain’t for Wimps Mysteries, the protagonist is seventy-one, so snark might not wear as well on her. But she can be spunky. When Amy Parker suddenly finds herself widowed, she

begins to realize how subtly controlling her husband was. As she starts to spread her wings (and sets out to solve a murder), she finds her spunk.

Third, writing the first draft seems to go faster with cozies. Maybe that’s partly because of number one above, the more lighthearted tone. It may also be because the plots are a little bit less complicated, especially less so than police procedurals (my third series, The C.o.P. on the Scene Mysteries).

And a faster first-drafting experience means I get to the part that I like best sooner—the editing. I love editing. Watching the story shape up, getting all the rough edges polished off, is so much fun.

Fourth, the world building is fun too. Cozies are usually set in small towns, and populating a fictional town is kind of cool. There’s the local law enforcement of course, the sheriff and his or her deputies. Then the merchants and professionals—the grocer, the librarian, the veterinarian, the auto shop owner—and the nosy but also supportive neighbors.

And fifth, the characters can be quirky. Indeed, some of them are expected to be quirky.

Which brings us to the sixth reason, the MC usually has a pet.

And Amy’s pet is my favorite quirky character in this new series. She’s a gray tabby cat that Amy inherits from her sister. Her sister called her Misty, but Amy’s name for her is Nuisance. Nuisance is not a very friendly cat, and Amy starts out barely tolerating her. But as the story unwinds, she warms up to her some, especially after discovering why the cat is so standoffish.

But there are some challenges to writing cozies as well.

The main one being the rule about no swear words. That can be tough to pull off, especially when law enforcement folks are around (cops swear!), and still have the story feel realistic.

The age of most of my characters, in their sixties and seventies, helps here. Older gentlemen, even older sheriffs, try not to cuss in front of women. Indeed, gray-haired, bushy-eyebrowed Sheriff Andy Taylor is my third favorite character so far in this series, after Amy and Nuisance. (And yes, he gets a lot of jokes about his name, like folks asking him if he’s from Mayberry).

The other two main rules regarding cozies are easier to follow—no on-screen sex and minimize the gore. I’m not a big fan of gore myself, so that last one is totally easy.

And while I enjoyed writing sex scenes in my first series—The Kate Huntington Mysteries, with a psychotherapist amateur sleuth—they are not easy to craft. I’m just as happy not to have to deal with them here.

Indeed, I haven’t even decided yet if Amy will have a love interest. She’s still grieving her husband and also enjoying her independence.

And I’m having so much fun helping her do the latter.

Which do you prefer to read (or write)—regular whodunnits or cozy mysteries?

What does it say about you when your coming-of-age story begins at seventy-one?

Kassandra Lamb has two loves: writing and psychology. In her youth, she discovered that writers need day jobs in order to eat. Partial to food, she studied psychology. Now retired from a career as a psychotherapist and college professor, she spends most of her time in an alternate universe with her characters. The magic portal to this universe (i.e., her computer) is in Florida, where her husband and dog catch occasional glimpses of her. Kass has authored over 40 books, including four mystery series and a romantic suspense trilogy.

WEBSITE: https://kassandralamb.com

Troubled Water, An Aging Ain’t for Wimps Mystery (#1 in a new series)

Amy Bridges Parker asks herself that question as she resists her domineering sister’s attempts to take over where her subtly controlling and recently deceased husband left off. Then her sister turns up dead, and the sheriff suspects a young man claiming to be the grandson of Amy’s first husband, who died in the Vietnam War. Amy, however, is not convinced. Her sister—a mean girl back in high school—had plenty of old enemies. But who hated her enough to actually kill her?

AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H7YZSQG3

BARNES & NOBLE: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/troubled-water-kassandra-lamb/1150617824?ean=2940196583292

The Vacation That Almost Wasn’t by Sarah E. Burr

2026-08-16T00:30:00.000-04:00

Last week, my husband, our two dogs, and I headed to Maine to spend some time with my parents. I was fully prepared to relax. I brought a stack of books and planned to sit outside, enjoy the lake, explore a few towns, eat good food, and generally do as little as possible. After a busy summer of releases, promotions, and more, I thought I’d earned it.

Maine apparently had other plans for me.

Things started going sideways when my mom threw her back out the day after we arrived. Naturally, that changed the dynamic of the trip because she was hurting and couldn’t move around normally, so there was a lot of checking on her and adjusting plans. Still, George and I figured we could roll with it. We were all together, we were in Maine, and there were plenty of other things we could do.

Oh, silly, naïve Sarah. I don’t know what happened to the refreshing Maine summers of my childhood, but this was not one of them. For the first week of August, it was oppressively hot, the kind of heat where you walk outside and immediately regret every decision that brought you to that particular moment in your life.

Then we lost power.

Thankfully, my parents have a generator, so this wasn’t quite the disaster it could have been. The problem was that the generator couldn’t run everything in the house at the same time. Choices had to be made, and when it’s a bazillion degrees outside, air-conditioning wins. Hot water is a luxury. But oddly enough, as the week continued, the generator eventually became preferable to having actual electricity. You see, once power came back on, the electric company started having brownouts across the state. The Maine community Facebook pages were flooded with complaints and horror stories. For our family, we technically "had" electricity, but there wasn’t enough of it for the air conditioners to run at full capacity. So, we went from having no power, to generator power that could run the AC but no hot water, to real power that couldn’t run the AC as well as the generator. Nothing says “relaxing Maine vacation” quite like discussing whether you’d rather have fully functioning air-conditioning or hot water while Central Maine Power struggles to provide enough electricity to accomplish either.

As if the heat and power situation weren’t enough, George and I briefly thought our credit card had been stolen. Late one night, our credit card company called to ask whether we were making purchases at a Texas Target, which sent us into a spiral of checking charges, wondering what had been compromised, and mentally preparing to deal with fraud while on vacation. Except it turned out the card being used was our old credit card. The one that was already inactive. Yep. That’s right. After all that concern, there was literally nothing for us to do. No stolen card. No active fraud on an account we use. Just a pointless little burst of panic dropped into the middle of an already chaotic week.

Meanwhile, we had four dogs sharing one old farmhouse. For those keeping score, George and I brought Eevee and Itto, while my parents have Louise (a Shih Tzu) and Niko (a German Shepherd). These dogs do not share a beautiful friendship. Every visit becomes a complicated system of who can be in what room, who needs to go outside, and why everyone is suddenly mouthing off. I often felt less like someone on vacation and more like the manager of a very poorly organized doggy daycare. Thank goodness my parents installed heavy-duty dog gates in all the doorways after our visit last Christmas. Lessons learned!

We still had sightseeing plans, though. What could go wrong with a little tourism? With that positive outlook, George and I headed to Rockland to wander around Main Street. Rockland is exactly the kind of coastal Maine town where you expect to spend a Wednesday afternoon popping into cute shops, looking at art, grabbing something to eat, and generally enjoying yourself. Except almost everything was closed. George and I walked around staring into darkened storefronts wondering if we had somehow missed an announcement to shelter in place. Every time we spotted somewhere that looked interesting, we’d walk up to the door and discover that, nope, apparently, that place didn’t want to see us either.

But the whole reason we were in Maine this particular week was to celebrate my dad’s birthday. As part of the fun, we made reservations at a fancy local restaurant we'd yet to try. This was supposed to be one of our big outings. We’d get dressed up, have a lovely dinner, and enjoy a nice evening together. Sounds great, right? Wrong. On the morning of my dad's birthday, we got a call. Not to wish him a happy birthday, but to tell us that the restaurant was closing because of the heat. Yes. It was apparently so hot in Maine that even the restaurant decided it had had enough. At this point, the trip was beginning to feel slightly cursed.

Thankfully, one outing went as planned. Rallying after the canceled birthday plans, the four of us piled into the car, drove forty-five minutes to Hallowell and had a wonderful meal at The Liberal Cup (such a great name for a cozy mystery locale). It was a restaurant my dad had long wanted to visit, and we figured, if not now, then when? The food was great, we got to relax, and for a little while, nothing broke, closed, lost power, injured itself, triggered a fraud alert, or otherwise went dramatically wrong. It was glorious.

Despite how all these mishaps make the trip sound, we really did have an enjoyable stay. Maybe it wasn’t the relaxing Maine vacation I’d envisioned, but we were together. We laughed a lot, ate well, spent time by the lake, and somehow found plenty of good moments tucked between all the things that didn’t go according to plan. By the end of the week, I realized those were probably the moments I’d remember anyway. That’s the funny thing about family vacations. You can plan where you’re going, what you’re doing, and where you’re eating, but you can’t plan what happens once everyone gets there. Sometimes the trips that go completely off script become the stories you tell the longest. Someday, I’m sure someone will say, “Remember that vacation in Maine…?” and we’ll all laugh, conveniently forgetting how exasperated we were while living through it. Then, eventually, someone will suggest we do it all again. And we will. Because it’s family, and getting together is always worth the trip.

But next year, I’m bringing lower expectations.

Research Snags When Creating Settings by Judy L. Murray

2026-08-15T00:00:00.000-04:00

Here I am. Drowning in research. Let me explain why I could use your help.

As many of you know, mystery series is centered around a busy little town at the very top of the Chesapeake Bay. Over the span of my first four books, I decided that Helen, my heroine, is more believable and interesting when she gets caught up in crime solving that introduces what I consider ‘a setting within a setting’. Helen may get entangled in sleuthing because of her friendships and career life as a real estate agent but the people she helps and the villains she tracks down have different expertise from her own. Unfortunately, as a writer, these differences can make storyline accuracies a challenge.

In Murder in the Master, Helen’s family, friends, and work life are introduced. The town of Port Anne, with its tiny shops and restaurants and generations of businesses, all reflect a blend of locals and newcomers that don’t always see eye to eye. Helen discovers a builder in the master bedroom of a new McMansion. Since I know the real estate business like the back of my hand, I could concentrate on plot, dialogue, and character building.

In Killer in the Kitchen, a celebrity chef and client leads Helen into the world of an online home shopping network like QVC. I had to learn about the back-office world of television production, products, and guests. To entertain readers, I learned terms and built a setting that reflects real life. Did I tie it all into real estate? Yes.

In Peril in the Pool House Helen is thrown into solving a politician’s family secrets of missing pilot boat captains and fraudulent shipping up and down the bay. I researched abandoned lighthouses, float planes versus seaplanes and environmental law affecting the Chesapeake. I enjoyed it.

Villain in the Vineyard immersed Helen in dealings with wine connoisseurs and questionable vineyard owners. When Detective Joe McAlister asks Helen what she knows about wine she says, “I’m never quite sure what to do at a wine-tasting. Do you?” “Taste wine?” Joe retorts. I still don’t know how to discern wines, casks, or soil but I learned enough to generate dialogue that wouldn’t be criticized later by a wine expert.

Back to my current misery. My fifth book is centered around the world of thoroughbred horse racing, principally because Fair Hill International Training Center is minutes from my home and can be another setting within Helen’s world. Thoroughbreds who win races at Saratoga and the Kentucky Derby train here in unsurpassed facilities. But I’m stumbling around trying to get a footing within this horsing community and it hasn’t been easy.

Dear Research Experts, what ideas do you have to break into a close-knit, private, and competitive world? I’m inclined to keep plotting based on potential crimes in this world and stop worrying about editing for accuracy at this point. Thoughts?

From a writer who doesn’t know the difference between a trot and a canter, Judy

2026-08-14T00:00:00.000-04:00

What Grover Taught Me about Writing Mysteries

By Heather Weidner

I am Gen X, first-generation Sesame Street and first-generation MTV. One of my favorite children’s books of all time was the classic, The Monster at the End of This Book. I still have my copy. Mystery, fantasy, suspense, monsters. This book had it all.

As I look back on some of my childhood favorites, I realize I’ve been reading mysteries for a long time. Here’s what this Little Golden Book and the blue fuzzy monster from Sesame Street taught me about writing mysteries.

You need to build suspense in your stories to keep your readers engaged.
Your readers need to like or empathize with your protagonist.
Everyone is afraid of something, and writers need to tap into fears to build tension.
Write strong (and fun) dialog. Make it sound like real speech, slang and all.
Use pacing correctly. Slow down the action to build suspense, and speed it up to amp up the excitement.
Your protagonist needs a challenge or a problem to solve.
Your character should not be perfect. Little (or big) flaws make your character relatable and interesting.
Make sure your character is not flat. He or she needs to be a real person (or monster) with all the things that life throws in the way. Your protagonist has to stumble and make mistakes.
When you think your character has had enough and is close to breaking, pile it on. Add more tension.
Don’t load up your work with a lot of narrative and back story. Readers want to stay in the action.
And most importantly, never forget that reading is fun.

Do you have a favorite children’s book that taught you some life lessons?

Heather Weidner writes cozy crime fiction for readers who want justice with a sprinkle of fun and a southern accent.

Through the years, Heather Weidner has been a cop’s kid, technical writer, editor, college professor, software tester, and IT manager. She writes the Pearly Girls Mysteries, the Delanie Fitzgerald Mysteries, The Jules Keene Glamping Mysteries, and The Mermaid Bay Christmas Shoppe Mysteries.

Originally from Virginia Beach, Heather has been a mystery fan since Scooby-Doo and Nancy Drew. She lives in Central Virginia with her husband and a crazy Mini Aussie Shepherd.

YESTERYEAR by Caro Claire Burke

2026-08-13T02:00:00.000-04:00

By Margaret S. Hamilton

“Tradwife is a term for a married woman who embraces traditional gender roles and values and tends to share the details of her life on social media.” (Britannica.com)

“The goal of the influencer is not to be loveable, and it is not to be unbearable. The goal is to be both at once. In other words: addicting.” (Natalie)

In Burke’s satiric 2026 debut, Yesteryear, fictional influencer Natalie Heller Mills provokes intense discussions among women of all ages. Those of us who struggled to raise a family, care for elderly parents, and maintain a career aren’t lured by an aura of cream cashmere-swathed country living. We devoured magazines about Martha Stewart but created our own lifestyles, by choice and economic necessity

Our daughters, who are closer in age to thirty-two-year-old Natalie, might be entranced by the idea of living in Natalie’s remote Idaho farmhouse (Fresh eggs and raw milk! Kids romping through a wildflower meadow!), homeschooling their brood of gifted children and feeding them a wholesome diet of grains and root vegetables. Natalie’s lifestyle is meticulously portrayed on Instagram, with themed merchandise. You too can purchase organic cotton onesies and cloth diapers, and swaddle baby in a hand-woven blanket! All, it turns out, made in China.

Yesteryear is superbly written, though the characters are more caricatures than believable people. Natalie is the mother of six, probably suffering from postpartum depression. She is a narcissist: selfish, self-important, with a lack of empathy for her husband, children, and employees (two nannies and a social media content producer, plus the farmhands). Natalie’s relationship with her children is transactional—how can they enhance her Instagram image?

Natalie either time-travels or endures prolonged psychotic episodes, transported to the same Idaho farm where she lives, but in 1855. [With the exception of trading posts and a mission, Americans of European descent didn’t settle in Idaho until 1860.] In her imagined past, Natalie suffers in her unfamiliar environment—she’s cold, dirty, and unloved as she deals with the reality of the nineteenth-century pioneer lifestyle she embraces during her Instagram career. It’s an original twist on the tradwife trope, and Burke does it well.

The book is a jumble of past and present, with Natalie’s children and their nineteenth-century lookalikes, plus the additional children she bears after her Instagram career implodes. Natalie damages everything she touches: children, husband, employees, and farm animals. Ultimately, she pays the price.

Natalie considers herself a spiritual person, but it’s the automatic worship of a mumbled grace before dinner or morning prayers recited by habit, not conviction.

The last third of the book is a chaotic chain of events, past and present, and somewhat confusing.

Reviewers have labeled Yesteryear a thriller, black comedy, social satire, or a coming of age book. I would add, in the immortal words of the Rolling Stones, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and then term it women’s fiction.

Readers and writers, have you read about or encountered the trad wife movement?

Margaret S. Hamilton is the author of forty short stories and the first two books in the amateur sleuth Jericho Mysteries series.

Home - The Official Website of Margaret S. Hamilton

An Interview With Ashley-Ruth Bernier

2026-08-12T02:00:00.000-04:00

by Grace Topping

The Bush Tea Murder

Food journalist Naomi Sinclair doesn’t expect a side of murder with her passion fruit juice. But when her return to Saint Thomas heralds a series of troubling cases, ranging from petty theft to cold-blooded murder, that threaten her tight-knit community, that is exactly the kind of unsavory treat she must sink her teeth into.

Luckily for her neighbors, Naomi is as adept at solving puzzles as rolling johnnycake dough—a good thing, since her island community, though small, keeps serving up plenty of trouble. With the help of her friends and her crush, Mateo, Naomi must navigate the tumultuous turquoise waters of life in the Caribbean, all as her beloved father battles an illness that keeps tugging her back to her island amid her rising career stateside. www.amazon.com

Ashley-Ruth Bernier enjoys writing mysteries, but she especially loves introducing readers to the vibrant culture of her home in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Her first novel, The Bush Tea Murder, was published this spring, and the setting was so well done that it could be considered another character in her book. It was a pleasure talking to Ashley-Ruth about her novel and short stories. The Bush Tea Murder is a delight to read, both for the mystery and her clever and humorous analogies.

Welcome to Writers Who Kill, Ashley-Ruth.

Your short story, “Six-Armed Robbery” won the Agatha Award recently for Best Short Story. What inspired you to write crime fiction?

I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write mysteries. I've been fascinated by the genre ever since I was a kid, watching Murder, She Wrote on the big TV in my grandmother’s living room or reading Encyclopedia Brown. I loved the fair play of a good whodunit because I got to look for clues as the story unfolded. It’s a genre that feels participatory like none other.

I tried writing mysteries for years, but I could never get them quite right. There was something eluding me, and I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Then I wrote “Rise,” my first mystery short featuring Naomi Sinclair, and I realized what I’d been missing before. I’d been trying to write stories set in old manor houses or in big, flashy cities, because I thought that’s where such stories had to take place in order to be taken seriously. It wasn’t until I embraced the setting I knew most intimately—my home island, where I grew up and where my family had lived for generations—and put personalities and dynamics I understood on the page that my stories found success. I’m truly grateful that my stories have been embraced by readers and other authors.

Here’s another big part of my inspiration: I’ve spoken about this often, but I rarely saw sleuths who looked like me in books, TV shows, or other media when I was growing up. It’s important to me that readers see Black women having adventures, too—solving mysteries, analyzing clues, being the main character in stories, and saving the day.

You have published short stories in some prestigious magazines like Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Black Cat Weekly, and Caribbean Writer. You also have stories in Malice Domestic’s Mystery Most Devious and Mystery Most Humorous anthologies. What motivated you to branch out and write a novel?

Well, I kind of took the middle road. The Bush Tea Murder is a hybrid—it’s what is referred to as a “novel-in-stories,” a large overarching mystery with six shorter mysteries embedded within, all of which lead toward the solution of the big puzzle. It started when I wrote “Rise”, a short story about a stolen johnnycake recipe, and before I finished the last lines of that story, I had ideas for several other short stories featuring Naomi, wild crimes, and Virgin Islands cuisine. I wrote eleven of them over the course of two years. My goal? To sell the work as a short story collection, one in which the stories were linked by a loose arc.

When my agent sold the collection, my editor at Crooked Lane asked me if I could take the linked stories a step further by writing a narrative that pulled them all together. It felt daunting at the time, but the more I wrote, the more I realized that I knew these characters and Naomi’s story well enough that the big story—the actual “bush tea murder”—wound up being very easy to write!

…that being said, I’ve also written traditionally plotted novels featuring Naomi and her adventures. Fingers crossed I’ll be able to share those with readers eventually.

What do you find more challenging to write—short stories or novels?

Novels, for sure. It’s tough to sustain a narrative over 90K words—and this is from someone who enjoys “writing long.” I think the hardest part of a novel is pacing. I’m very wordy, and it’s easy to think that there’s space to spread out and include details and extras because there’s a larger word economy. However, there are beats that readers expect, and the story still has to move along while including all of those beats, so there shouldn’t be as much “spreading out” as I’d like. Short stories are easier for me. I’ve written enough of them now that I understand exactly what I can do in the word budget I have—if I can include a subplot, an extra red herring, or a fun connection.

Are all of your short stories set in the U.S. Virgin Islands?

I would say about 90 percent of them are, and the ones that aren’t will always mention it somewhere or include a character from there. Some writers are fluent in several different languages. Writing about St. Thomas is like that for me. I feel “fluent” in including characters, settings, and dynamics from home. I’ve lived in North Carolina for over ten years now, and occasionally I’ll include settings that are familiar to me, like a story taking place in a school or classroom. But in terms of culture, I’ll always write about the one I know best.

Two years ago, I was invited to write a story for Michael Bracken’s Chop Shop series, which takes place in Dallas. Writing about a city I didn’t know very well was a fun challenge, and I learned a lot about the area through research and talking to other writers from the Dallas-Fort Worth area. My character in that story was originally from St. Thomas, though–I had to pull the VI in somehow. Hopefully, that story will be out in the world soon.

The Bush Tea Murder features culinary journalist Naomi Sinclair. What is a culinary journalist? How does a culinary journalist differ from a food critic? Do all of your stories feature food or recipes?

Naomi is someone who examines food rather than evaluates it. She writes about the process, the history, the preparation, and the origin of dishes. She also interviews the chefs who prepare them. I needed her to be more than just a critic for a few reasons. First, I needed her to be skilled and savvy with her interviews, since as a sleuth, she’d need to get clues and information from the people she speaks to. But more importantly, I needed her to think deeply and analytically about food so that I could make a deeper connection between the food, the crime, and the theme in her short mysteries.

Not all my stories feature food or recipes, but many of them do. My short story, “A Li’l Something Extra,” which was published by Rock and a Hard Place as the July 2024 Stone’s Throw pick, was about a new bride who uses her husband’s love of food as a way to his heart…literally.

What is bush tea? Is it something that can only be found in the islands?

There are many herbs that are traditionally chosen for a cup of bush tea—balsam and lemongrass are two favorites in the Virgin Islands. Balsam is what many people refer to as sweet basil. My grandmother would send me outside to pick some leaves from her plants to make a big pot of bush tea on Sunday mornings. Some people will add some mint leaves as well.

Personally, I like my balsam tea with brown sugar and a splash of milk from the can, like Naomi does. Other people can’t imagine adding milk to theirs. I think we can all agree it’s the perfect way to start your day, especially if you have some dumbread or a traditional VI breakfast to go along with it.

The Bush Tea Murder has been very well received, gaining acknowledgement for being so authentic. What do you think accounts for it being viewed as authentic?

It really means so much to me that it’s been so well received. It feels authentic because it is. I tried my best to use real settings, landmarks, and history where I could…and if I needed to make something up, I made it as familiar as possible. For example, Pereira’s Fruits and Produce isn’t a real produce store on-island, but readers from St. Thomas would likely think of Fruit Bowl, a real establishment, when reading “Strain,” the fifth short mystery in the book.

When I first began to write the short stories that make up the bulk of the book, one early beta reader suggested I spend more time writing about the more spectacular parts of the island—beaches and vistas. I didn’t want to do that, though. While those are definitely lovely parts of the island to share, my goal was to invite readers into some of the real spaces in Naomi’s island life—porches, restaurants, and kitchens.

Does your large and vibrant family in the islands provide fodder for your stories? Have family members ever accused you of including them and their adventures in your works?

Ha ha. Nobody’s accused me of including them in my work yet, although I have a lot more stories to tell, and they have a LOT more reading to do. I frequently get asked which senator inspired slimy Lucky Simons in “Ripen,” though.

You include recipes in your book. Are these tried and true family recipes?

They are definitely tried and true. The johnnycake recipe is the one I use without fail, but mine are different from others in my family, like my grandmother and my mother-in-law. My grandmother’s johnnycakes were thicker and more dense. My mother-in-law uses shortening in hers, which gives them a fantastic texture and taste. Mine are light and fluffy. I hope my kids eventually use my recipe, but if they find another that makes them feel happy and connected to our culinary canon, that’s fine, too.

I also include an ice cream recipe. I make a lot of ice cream with my ice cream machine at home, and I love being able to add purees of fruits I love. We have made mango, soursop, and guava ice cream.

With a family and a full-time job as a first-grade teacher, when do you find time to write?

Well, it was a lot easier before our sweet little surprise Quinn arrived this February. Our other kids are teens and tweens, and when they were old enough to play independently, I found it easier to make time for writing however I could manage it. I could write while they played at the pool, or during a baseball practice, or while I chaperoned band camp, or while waiting in the carpool line to pick up kids after play rehearsal. My husband is also very helpful, and a huge supporter of my writing life.

Being a first grade teacher means that I get summers off, so that means a nice wide-open schedule for writing. Baby Quinn is still figuring out what a schedule is, though, so I have not been as productive as I usually am this time around.

What is the most valuable thing you’ve learned since you started writing?

Besides making time for writing wherever and whenever I can, I think the most valuable thing I’ve learned is the generous and welcoming nature of the mystery and crime writing community. Within Sisters in Crime, the Guppies chapter, Crime Writers of Color, the Short Mystery Fiction Society, and especially my SinC critique group, I’ve made so many wonderful writer friends and have gotten to know some of the most talented authors around. I hope to be able to give back to the community that has given me so much.

What next for Naomi Sinclair?

I have so, so many more of her stories to share—some that I’ve already written, some that are currently being written, and some that are still waiting their turn in the queue in my head. I really hope to be able to share them all with readers over time. There’s no shortage of delicious Virgin Islands cuisine to write about, either.

Thank you, Ashley-Ruth. You’ve made me yearn for a trip to the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Grace Topping is the author of the Laura Bishop Mystery Series.

Let's Talk by KM Rockwood

2026-08-11T00:09:17.328-04:00

Dialog in fiction is important. It gives the reader important information. It enhances character development. It sets tone. It can provide a touch of humor. It carries the story along in a natural, reader-friendly way.

In writing, every “rule” exists to achieve something specific. And yes—rules can be broken. But before one is broken, the writer needs to understand what the rule is meant to accomplish. Then decide whether that goal can be achieved using a different technique, or the rule just doesn’t apply here.

Not confusing your reader is rule number one. You don’t want a reader to have to stop to figure out who’s saying what. Or worse, to give up reading in frustration. That is usually handled with dialog tags—“I’m leaving,” she said—or beats—She stood and gathered her things. “I’m leaving.”

“Said” is supposedly invisible to the reader. It’s true that the eye tends to skim over it while the brain registers the meaning. It’s unobtrusive and can be used repeatedly to clarify who is talking without adding a lot of padding.

But it’s not entirely invisible. A long page of “Joan said…” followed by “Harry said…” over and over risks becoming a distraction to the reader. Those of us who struggle with writing for venues that list strict word counts hate to waste our valuable words on things like “said.”

Sometimes alternatives to “said” are nearly as invisible. “Asked,” “answered,” “replied” are examples.

And sometimes, despite the warnings not to make the tags hover noticeably in the background, more colorful or descriptive tags are appropriate. “Watch out for the alligator!” she screamed. Yes, the “screamed” is intrusive. It will probably register with the reader. It’s an urgent situation, and here it’s meant to be intrusive.

Dialog beats get around the constant use of “said.” They also provide context, display character tendencies, and can nudge the story along.

When there’s a great deal of information to be conveyed via dialog, the characters will often be seated at a dining table. Lots of opportunities for meaningful beats. The character slouched in a diner booth nervously shredding paper straw wrappers and lining the pieces up on the Formica tabletop presents a much different image than the character standing primly in an elegant private dining room, oyster fork poised in her fingers.

Characters can sip their champaign. They can gulp their beer. They can lick the salt off the rims of their margarita glasses. They can stir their tea. They can eye the contents of their red Solo cups suspiciously.

There are beats that display action, too. They are less conducive to conveying lots of information, but they can create tension and move the story along nicely. When a character perching on a wobbly ladder or crawling through a muddy tunnel says something, the reader gets a better picture than what just the dialog presents.

One-sided dialog can be startlingly effective. The presentation is oral, but Bob Newhart’s “No One Will Ever Play Baseball,” given over the phone, is pure genius.

Even the “don’t confuse the reader” rule can have exceptions. If the intended purpose is to create a chaotic scene, a hectic deluge of unattributed dialog can help. Although I have seen that done effectively, I have never been able to create that feeling. When I have tried, I just ended up confusing myself. So I can only imagine how a reader would react.

Real life dialog is full of “you-knows”, “uhs,’ and other hems and haws. Learning to speak without falling back on such meaningless interjections is one of the major goals of public speaking lessons, but most people fill their speech with them. The admonition writers get is to avoid them.

But they do have their place. Once again, consider the effective comedy skits. Carol

Burnett’s characters, with panicked eyes darting from side to side and a prolonged, “Umm…” can’t be totally recreated in writing, but a hesitant character sitting rigidly and also uttering a prolonged “Umm…” can give the reader real insight into both the character and the situation.

How long should a dialog passage be? The rule of thumb is that in exchanged dialog, one person seldom speaks for more than three sentences before the other participant responds.

Once again, there are exceptions. Lectures, rants, and giving instructions often go on for much longer than that. The point of the rule is to keep the story moving along. If a situation calls for a longer passage, that’s what should be there.

Some situations call for such longer passages. A Sovereign Citizen in court is like to start spouting a set statement about being a live person and the court not having jurisdiction. The judge may very well permit the defendant to have such a say (although in this situation, the author may revert to a “tell” vs. “show” by letting the character start the monolog but reverting to “He continued to rant semi-coherently for the next six minutes.) The judge who sits there quietly and thanks the defendant when she finally shuts up, the proceeds while ignoring all that was said, runs a different courtroom than the one who tries to answer the defendant’s concerns. Undoubtedly in vain.

Regionalisms and local terms can spice up the story, especially if the meaning is clear. Residents of some places may throw the door wide and invite visitors to “Come away in.” It is a regionalism, but most people will not have to stop to wonder what it means. Slang can be colorful, but it can date a story as surely as having a character hitch a yoke of oxen to a cart to go into town. The reader is quite aware that he is not headed for the center of modern-day Cincinnati.

Mark Twain aside, serious use of vernacular dialects may make a reader slog awkwardly through dialog. Some readers may have the patience, and even delight in the passages, but many readers will either skip the dialog or just skip the rest of the book.

Same goes for foreign phrases. Most people know what a pied de terre is but would be mystified by a reference to carne cruda all piemontese. If it’s easily understood, fine. Otherwise, proceed with caution.

Since some readers will abandon a story at the first sign of profanity or blasphemy, authors need to be aware of the reaction they may get when using such expletives. Or curses. Or even prayers. A college professor will speak differently than a long-haul truck driver, who in turn will speak differently than a homie from the ‘hood.

People tend to be more casual in their everyday speech than they are in more formal settings of their writing, and their dialog should reflect that. In fragments of sentence even. Most people use contractions unless they are making an effort to be very precise. Or are non-native speakers who have learned a very formal version of English.

Dialog should sound natural, not stilted. In most cases, just go ahead and say it, and it should be fine.

When Your Setting Starts Killing People, You Know You’re Doing Something Right

2026-08-10T00:00:00.000-04:00

A Guest Post by Mindy Quigley

You may have heard writers describe moments when their characters take over the story. This has certainly happened to me. I’ll think I know which way a scene needs to go, only to have the folks on the page inform me they have other plans.

Something that gets less attention is what happens when a book’s setting starts taking over the plot.

I certainly didn’t expect Geneva Bay, the charming Wisconsin lakeside resort where my books take place, to start murdering people. But—surprise!—it did just that.

When I first pitched the Deep Dish Mysteries, I had no intention of setting the books in small-town Wisconsin. The books feature deep-dish pizza and a detective descended from Al Capone, so obviously they belonged in Chicago. I envisioned my fictional pizzeria in Hyde Park, where I could draw on the neighborhood’s fascinating history and the city’s unseemly connection with organized crime.

My publisher had other ideas. They loved the concept, but wanted it set in a small, tightly knit community—a place where readers could take a mental vacation.

I tried to argue that Chicago is, in fact, a great place for a vacation, but finally relented, moving the whole shebang to “Geneva Bay,” a lightly-fictionalized version of Lake Geneva.

As it turned out, Lake Geneva had everything I needed. It’s a short drive from Chicago, and its history is deeply intertwined with the city. Wealthy Chicagoans flock there in the summer, and during Prohibition, the area served as a convenient booze-smuggling pitstop. Gangsters, including Al Capone, also reportedly used the area as a place to lie low when things got too hot in Chicago.

I soon realized that my publisher had done me a huge favor. The town wasn’t just a backdrop: as I got to know it, it became a murder-mystery-generating machine.

The early books’ plots were driven primarily by the characters. Take the first book. Main character Delilah O’Leary discovers her elderly aunt holding a literal smoking gun over the corpse of her seemingly beloved caregiver, upping the stakes. In the sequel, Delilah herself becomes a prime suspect after a murder takes place in a juice bar owned by her ex-fiancé’s new girlfriend.

By the fourth book, though, Geneva Bay had started suggesting plot twists of its own.

Sleep in Heavenly Pizza takes place during the U.S. Snow Sculpting Invitational, a real event Lake Geneva hosts each winter. Huge mounds of snow are transformed into oversized artwork over the course of a few days. Watching the sculptors work, I began to wonder: What would happen if they carved back the snow only to unearth a corpse?

I hadn’t simply found a fun place to hide a corpse (though it is fun!). The entire mystery grew out of the setting: the town’s winter attractions, its wealthy seasonal residents, its unpredictable weather. The murder couldn’t be uprooted and plunked down in another place. It became a wheredunnit. Only Geneva Bay could’ve pulled it off.

By the time I started writing At Death’s Dough, the fifth Deep Dish Mystery, the setting was again at the top of my mind.

In this book, Delilah’s great-aunt, an enthusiastic ice fisher, takes her out onto the frozen lake, where—well, you can probably guess what happens next.

The gruesome discovery plunges Delilah into a mystery involving a real-life, century-old crime, the Capone family, and a trail of clues that may lead to a priceless treasure. All of those elements are unique to Lake Geneva/Geneva Bay.

At Death’s Dough won the 2026 Agatha Award for Best Contemporary Novel, which was a particularly satisfying development for a book that began with the question, “How might this cute-as-a-button place kill someone (again) and why?”

At long last, the audiobook of At Death’s Dough is now available, narrated by the super talented Holly Adams.

So if you’re fed up with the summer heat and looking for a book to transport you, I invite you to visit the frosty shores of a scenic Wisconsin lake.

Just watch your step. Geneva Bay is a dangerous town.

Agatha Award-winning author Mindy Quigley writes twisty, character-driven crime fiction with a sharp, snappy sense of humor. Her Deep Dish Mysteries were a Woman’s World book club pick and have been featured in Parade and the Seattle Times.

Before turning to full-time fiction writing, Mindy spent more than a decade managing veterinary clinical research studies. That followed an unusual career path that took her from the U.S. to the U.K., where she studied British colonial history, worked as the personal assistant to the scientist who cloned Dolly the sheep, and project managed a neurology research clinic founded by J.K. Rowling.

She now lives in small-town Virginia with her Civil War historian husband and their children. For a lifelong dog owner, she spends an awful lot of time thinking about cats.

FOLLOWING MY FORTUNE COOKIE FUTURE

2026-08-09T00:02:00.000-04:00

by Korina Moss

Sometimes when your life’s path seems particularly up in the air, you cling onto things that might give you something to grasp onto: a Tarot card reading, a horoscope, a Magic 8-Ball. I don’t normally put a whole lot of weight into those, but when my son and I get Chinese food… Let me tell you, those fortune cookie fortunes I hold sacred.

I got this one early on in my publishing journey, so I knew the cookie fortunes were the real deal.

Once my Cheese Shop Mystery series got going, I modified Homer Simpson’s fortune.

And I even opened a fortune about my love life… but it was a bit of a curveball.

I guess it could be worse than Humphrey, my Highland cow.

The next time we went to the Chinese restaurant in July, I feared another mocking fortune cookie. However, this was the one I pulled out.

It was especially exciting! Although in a tiny corner of my mind, I did wonder if it was meant to be literal, and before the end of the month, I’d somehow end up with a glittery, broken raw egg on my lap. (At least I’d still have Humphrey.)

But this fortune did not mock me. Two days later, it actually came true in all its metaphorical glory! I was asked to be a founding faculty member and Author in Residence for Stone Lyon Society, a new online writing school focused solely on cozy and traditional mysteries. It seemed too good to be true! I met with Patrick, the founder of the school, who has a vast background in business, education, teaching, and writing. As a freelance developmental editor specializing in cozy mysteries, I work with a lot of new mystery writers, so I’ve gotten to know the common areas where they tend to fall short. Of course, being a writer myself, I also have an idea of what’s important when learning the craft. In the meeting, I was thrilled to discover that Patrick and I are so aligned in what we think mystery writers need and how to meet them where they are. As fellow New Englanders, we also got along famously. After signing some contracts, I’m now helping to shape the school’s curriculum.

I’ve said before how satisfying developmental editing has been, because I get to help mystery writers strengthen their abilities and reach their goals. But I can only work with so many clients, as each manuscript takes me a few weeks—I’m already booked through next March. To have this opportunity to now reach more writers through this program is certainly a “golden egg of opportunity.” My fortune was right on target.

Now I wonder if I should leave my foretold future on a high note and stop reading my fortunes. We could always switch to an Italian restaurant. At least if it had fortune breadsticks, it would be the same every time.

Readers: Have you ever gotten your fortune told? Do you believe in it in any of its forms?

KORINA MOSS is the author of the Cheese Shop Mystery series, which includes the winner of the Agatha Award for Best First Novel, as well as two novels short-listed for Best Contemporary Novel. Listed as one of USA Today’s “Best Cozy Mystery Series,” her books have also been featured in PARADE Magazine, Woman’s World, and Writer’s Digest.

Korina is a faculty member and Author in Residence at Stone Lyon Society, an online writing school for cozy and traditional mystery writers. She’s also a freelance developmental editor specializing in cozy mysteries. To learn more, visit her website at korinamossauthor.com.

DEAD ON: How A Short Story Helped Words Flow for Writers Stuck for Ideas

2026-08-08T04:00:00.000-04:00

Any author will tell you that crafting a story doesn't always flow smoothly. Sometimes, we get stuck. The ideas gum up in our brains, making it difficult to put words on a page. When that happens, it's time to take a break, focus on something else, even if it's cleaning the house.

I've been experiencing a bit of the funk myself, lately. For me, picking up and reading other authors' works has been helpful. Reading a suspense-filled novel chock full of mystery and thrills fills me with appreciation for character, timing, plotting, the balance between action, dialogue, background, and description, and, of course, twists, all key elements to make a page-turning story. But just reading a few great thrillers was not enough for me to break through the blockage in my writer's brain. But avoiding writing was not an option, as my blog for Writers Who Kill was due in a few days. At a loss for a topic, I decided to pull up an old short story from my early days as a writer (2012!) and give it a good edit, offer it to my fellow bloggers for review, edit again, then post it.

The feedback from my WWK buddies was enthusiastic, as well as helpful in catching typos and offering minor edits. A nice pat on the back, boosting my confidence to get back to my work-in-progress. Moreover, the act of taking a story and reworking it, was what I really needed.

Enjoy my story! Afterwards, share a few words on what you do when you feel stuck, unsure what to do next when you're working on a story, or some other project.

DEAD ON

A Thriller Short Story

By Lisa Malice

“You’ll pull the trigger at an open-air event in New York three days from now. Very public. People around that bitch nearly every second. Dozens on the stage with her during her speech. Take her out early.”

I cringed at the deep, familiar voice as it bellowed over the small phone in my hand. The device had been sealed in plastic and left for me in the men’s room of an old beltway bar, hidden in the tank of the handicapped john. The only number in the contacts list was another disposable phone. Such communication arrangements were SOP in my line of work, a standard precaution to keep calls anonymous, untraceable, leaving the cops unable to make any connections between clients and contractors.

“You’ll get one shot. That’s it. Think that’ll be a problem?”

Anger washed over me at his words. It wasn’t an unreasonable question. Most of my clients were nervous about my services, uncertain whether they should trust that I was as good as my reputation, so I often had to put their minds at ease. But coming from this jerk, the question was an insult. He knew first-hand I was the best of the best. I’d served under him. He’d trained me. I took out dozens of enemy combatants per his orders. After retiring my stripes, my semi-automatic M24 sniper rifle and I followed him to a civilian posting. Life working security for him was good.

Until it ended abruptly.

A few party photos, somehow leaked to a freelance reporter, made the headlines across the country. The optics were bad. The press had a field day. “These are the good guys?” one headline asked. Three of us identified in the photos couldn’t be fired fast enough, even though we did our jobs. The photographer, whoever he was, didn’t get any bare butt snapshots of the big guy cavorting with the three exotic Columbian beauties I let into his hotel suite. Shielding his fat ass—and other body parts—from the public and the press was an unspoken part of our job. Instead of a pat on the back from my boss for a job well done, I got a swift boot to the butt. Had to pay my own way home on a commercial flight, too. I never forgave the big man, nor my boss for the disgrace.

Unemployed with no respectable prospects, I went into business for myself. It paid well enough that I could take any job or leave it. Morally, I didn’t see a problem. I took out scum, hits contracted by other filth, who often got what they deserved, too. What this guy wanted me to do now—an assassination of a political opponent—didn’t fit that mold, but I thought I could handle it. The lucrative fee was something hard to refuse. It would free me from having to work this job, or any other, for that matter. I’d finally be on easy street.

“I can hit a flea off the tip of a dog’s dick from a thousand meters,” I said. “With her head in my cross-hairs, she’s as good as dead.”

"Good. Cover your tracks. Leave nothing behind. The feds ID you somehow, you’re on your own. My boss will do nothing to help you, and neither will I. Utter one word, and you’ll be dead before you can finish the sentence. Do I make myself clear?”

I sneered at his icy cold words, his tone of voice that betrayed our past relationship again. The trust we once shared to defend each other with our lives was gone, not an ounce of loyalty left.

If I took this job, I’d be all on my own, with a threat hanging over my head that was all too real. His boss had the power and resources to order whatever dirty work he wanted done. The last thing I needed or wanted in retirement was to have a target on my back. At the same time, I knew that refusing the job was also a risk. I’d be a loose end they couldn’t leave behind. I really had no choice in the matter now.

"When I say I'll do something, I do it. Just fix things on your end. Five mil in my crypto account in one hour. Otherwise, there's no deal.”

The phone went silent on the other end.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, holding back my annoyance with the man. We wrangled before on the subject of money. That had to be it. Five mil was just the upfront money. A down payment. The bulk of my fee would be due once the target was pronounced dead.

“I still think you’re overpriced for what you do,” he said, grumbling. “What’s a guy like you going do with that kind of dough anyway?”

I stifled a chuckle. I had a hunch that my old boss was jealous of my success, more specifically, the money I pulled in for working a very part-time job. His words proved me right. I ignored his stupid question, and instead, reasserted my worth, as I did during our initial negotiation.

“You want to walk away from this deal now, that’s your prerogative. But you get what you pay for. This is a high-risk target we’re talking about here. It has to be done with one shot. You said it yourself. If that first bullet misses the target, it’s all over. The opportunity to take her out is gone. A cheaper, less skilled contractor might squeeze off a couple more rounds hoping to finish the job, but that would just cause collateral damage, the wrong people shot.”

I let my words sink in for a moment, then continued. “Is the client willing to risk that kind of disaster to keep a few bucks in a foreign bank account we both know is overflowing with dirty money?”

The man grunted, then hung up. I took that to be a “no.”

I tossed the phone into the Potomac on my drive home. Sixty minutes later, I checked my account online and smiled at the balance. The deal was sealed. With my bag packed, I headed for New York to case the venue and prepare to execute my part of the contract.

###

Three days later, perched at the window of an anonymous office building, one of dozens overlooking the Navy Pier, I had a clear shot to the target, a petite redhead standing behind a podium on the deck of the U.S.S. Intrepid. I closed my eyes and pictured my goal—the woman lying in a pool of her own blood, dead from a bullet to her head. Something about the image felt wrong. I opened my eyes and found her again in the crosshairs of my telescopic sight, then put my finger on the trigger.

Suddenly, a bead of sweat rolled down my cheek, my heart started to race. I jerked back from the window, pressed myself against the wall, and struggled to understand what was happening. I’d experienced a mild case of the jitters only once, when taking aim at my first contracted target. I got over it quickly by remembering what the scum had done to deserve his fate— prostituted out barely pubescent girls as party favors for filthy millionaires. I took the shot with a steady hand and never wavered again. Putting a bullet into the heads of other bad actors was just a job that had to be done, and I was the guy to do it.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember what this woman had done to warrant her death.

When I was first approached about the job, the thought of taking her out made me a little giddy. Personally, I couldn’t stand the woman. I’d been around her enough in the past to find her difficult, demanding, and thoroughly unpleasant. Her politics were divisive, her policies repulsive. She was a bitch, no doubt about it. But the bottom line was that she’d done nothing so awful to deserve my bullet except stand in the way of my client’s political ambitions. Could I live with her death on my conscience? Would twenty mil in my pocket and a more-than-comfortable retirement be enough to compensate me for abandoning my moral integrity?

I wasn’t sure, but the consequence of standing down and walking away wasn’t pretty either. If I didn’t take the shot, it’d be me in the crosshairs next. My client would no doubt put a hefty bounty on my head. Every contractor in the biz would be gunning for me. Was I willing to live my life on the run, always looking over my shoulder, always prepared to kill rather than be killed?

I took a long, deep breath and let it out, hoping to clear my head, at least enough to answer the questions burning inside me. But it didn’t.

Steeling myself for a difficult decision, I raised my rifle and stared down the barrel through the telescopic sight. As I scanned the stage, my gut instincts suddenly kicked in, showing me my path forward. I took careful aim.

Two shots later, it was all over. I slipped out of the city and left my country behind.

###

One week later, I watched CNN’s coverage of the state funeral from my hotel suite in Rio. I couldn’t help but laugh at the comments from the last speaker, President Janine Rodriguez, as she delivered a tearful, heartfelt eulogy for her Vice President. "... a true patriot, tireless defender of the poor, and a good friend, who died from an errant sniper’s bullet meant for me.”

The irony was as thick as a brick, at least in my mind. The dead man had, after all, contracted the assassination of the woman speaking those words. And for the record, the assassination wasn't a mistake on my part. I shot her Vice President dead on. Put the other bullet in the head of the big guy’s lead Secret Service agent.

Why? Well, it wasn’t for the money. After all, I left fifteen mil on the table. I didn’t pull the trigger on them because they were the bad actors in this scenario, or to prevent the big guy from putting a contract out on me. No, I took these two cretins out to maintain the integrity of my moral code, part of which requires me to honor an oath I made long ago—to protect the Constitution – my president, especially – from all enemies, both foreign—and domestic.

The End

Listen Up, by Lori Roberts Herbst

2026-08-07T01:00:00.000-04:00

I’m lucky to have a robust, intelligent community book club here in my neighborhood (if you haven’t become part of a wonderful book club, I urge you to get out there right now and find one!). At a recent meeting, we discussed Ann Patchett’s TOM LAKE, a beautifully written book that almost all of us loved and gave five stars. (I highly recommend this rich and lyrical novel. One of the best I’ve read in a long time.)

After we’d finished delving into the intricacies of plot, character, prose, etc., the conversation veered to a side topic: preferred reading format. Within our group of sixteen, a quarter of them read on a device such as a Kindle, while another quarter chose paperback. (One outlier read hardback, but only because she borrowed it from the library.)

Turns out, close to half of our members listened to the audiobook version.

I admit to being super surprised by that, especially since I live in a 55+ community. It may be a stereotypical assumption on my part, but it hadn’t occurred to me that people my age—and older—would choose audio. At first, I thought perhaps they listened to this one because Meryl Streep narrated it, but when I probed further, I learned this book wasn’t an anomaly. Many members said they are regular audiobook aficionados.

When I got home later that evening, I did a little research online. The stats there were more in line with the numbers I would have expected. Apparently, about 18 percent of all readers listen to a book weekly. Consumption is highest in the 31-49-year-old demographic. Only 8 percent of those over 50 listen regularly. Of course, my book club consists of some pretty hardcore readers—the cream of the crop—so I suppose it makes sense that our percentage is higher than the national average.

But back to the night of the meeting. When I asked my book club friends why they preferred to listen, reasons varied. Convenience was a top motive. They could listen in the car, or at home doing chores, while on a daily walk, etc. Some mentioned that they focused better on the story in audio format. Still others cited declining eyesight.

They were also particular about their tastes in narration styles. Some enjoyed multiple narrators, leading to a wider vocal variety. Others preferred a single narrator who does a good job of varying voices without taking it to the extreme. Accents were a desirable trait for many listeners, but some like to listen at a faster speed, so accents don’t work well. All agreed that a good narrator makes a vast difference in the quality of the experience, and they will stop listening if the narration falls short. (Meryl Streep got high marks, in case you were wondering…)

As for me, I’m almost always reading two books, one on Kindle and another in audio format. But I do prefer to read with my eyes. I find I process and remember plot and characters better, catch nuance, and can revel more in the prose. As for audio, I have to listen to lighter fare because I just don’t focus as well. Cozy mysteries are my most common audio choice. And if I’m listening while lying in bed…well, suffice it to say thank goodness for the audiobook shut-off timer, so I always know how far to go back if I fall asleep!

(P.S.: I am fortunate to have found Lillian Baxter to narrate the Callie Cassidy Mystery series. She’s a top-notch, talented vocal artist!)

Do you love a good audiobook, or will you only read print?

The Callie Cassidy Mystery series is available on Amazon Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and paperback.

***

Lori Roberts Herbst writes the Callie Cassidy Mysteries, a cozy mystery series set in Rock Creek Village, Colorado, and the soon-to-be-released Seahorse Bay Mysteries, set in a Texas cruise port town. To find out more and to sign up for her newsletter, go to www.lorirobertsherbst.com

The Universe is Unfolding by Susan Van Kirk

2026-08-06T03:00:00.000-04:00

“Desiderata,” a 1927 poem by Max Ehrmann, has a famous line that is often quoted: “The universe is unfolding as it should.” I suppose this means that there is a natural order to life and you can trust the process even though sometimes you might not understand where it’s headed. I see what he meant.

When my younger son went to college, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life. He tried diverse courses of study. As it turned out, he decided to major in marketing at a university known for its excellent business department. It was perfect. He has the personality to do well in that field, and he likes to help people. I always found it amazing that he fell into exactly the profession that fit his life.

My younger son and I are both Libras according to Zodiac astrology, people born between September 23 and October 23. While I have a thin understanding of the Zodiac, I know just enough to be dangerous when it comes to being a Libra. Libras are represented by the scales of justice, and we like to fix things that aren’t fair or right. We value the people in our lives and are natural-born peacemakers. We avoid conflict “like the plague” and try to listen to all perspectives. And while we may be indecisive at times, we usually return to our values when it comes to making decisions. Those, of course, are vague descriptions someone wrote, but they seem appropriate when I look in the rearview window of my life.

I can see so many of those Libran traits in roles I ended up playing that were not of my choosing. While I loved my thirty-five years of high school teaching, I hadn’t planned to be in charge of a six-person department, composed of highly different personalities over many years and personnel turnovers. I learned about how to be a peacemaker, valuing everyone’s opinions, and trying to be fair and just. I hadn’t asked for that job, but I learned a great deal about keeping the peace and making decisions in a job I fell into.

After my teaching life ended, I joined the Guppies, the online chapter of Sisters in Crime. I worked on their board for three years where it was gratifying to help people as the membership chair. Then I was
asked to fill in a one-year term as president. Again, working with eleven personalities and people who were highly professional, I learned so much about guiding a huge on-line group of writers. I ran for a two-year term after that, feeling that I might still have something to offer. Connie Berry succeeded me in that job, and I’m sure she’ll tell you that it was gratifying and sometimes difficult. But relying on our values, we both felt good about helping writers, especially newbies.

Six years ago, I volunteered to be on the board of the local art center. I’m not an artist like a painter, but as a writer I share many creative elements with artists in other fields. I’m sure you know that 501-c non-profits are wonderful in enriching lives but poor in budgets. My years on the board taught me about the arts and stretching a dollar. I became board president. Then, when our director left for another job, I took over as president and director until we found a new director. I was the logical person because I was retired, knew everyone in town since I’d taught them all, and I asked many questions (a trait that drives my children crazy.) Again, that Libra sense of listening to all the viewpoints and trying to solve problems came to the forefront. Luckily, we found a new director six months in—a former student of mine, of course. I don’t believe she’s a Libra, but she sure is great at running an art center.

At the end of this year, my term on the board is over, but I’m sure I’ll volunteer to help in smaller ways. That’s what Libras do.

I never would have anticipated any of these jobs I’ve had, but they seem to have fallen into my lap because “the universe is unfolding as it should.” Every one of these jobs stretched my mind and added to my knowledge. We just need to trust the process, right?

Ever thought about volunteering? Did you learn a great deal about yourself in the process?

An Interview With Laura Jensen Walker

2026-08-05T02:00:00.000-04:00

by Grace Topping

The Postmistress of Puddlington

1934, Dorset. Nothing gives postmistress Hester Smith greater joy than cycling through the idyllic village of Puddlington, delivering the mail to her neighbours. Bookish Hester has always felt privileged to witness the highs and lows a single letter can bring.

But when war comes to Puddlington’s shores five years later, Hester suddenly finds herself in the devastating position of delivering news that no one should hear. As the community is directly impacted by tragedy on the battlefield and a shocking death occurs in the village, Hester’s spirit and resolve are tested like never before.

Can she and her fellow Puddlington women, including the vicar’s wife and the bohemian lady of the manor, find the courage to face their darkest times and come through a storm that will change their lives forever?

www.amazon.com

On August 4, Laura Jensen Walker’s 25^th book was released. But unlike many authors who write in a single genre, Laura has written in multiple genres. She joins us today at Writers Who Kill to talk about her most recent book, The Postmistress of Puddlington, and some of her other books in different genres.

Welcome back to Writers Who Kill, Laura.

The Postmistress of Puddlington has been called an uplifting and emotional historical novel. You’ve called it the "book of your heart." After writing 25 books, what makes this one so special to you?

A few things. I first got the inkling of an idea for this semi-epistolary novel nearly 50 years ago while stationed in England with the Air Force, when I was dreaming of someday becoming an author. (A dream I didn’t know would ever happen.) This was before the Internet and email, so our only communication with family back in the States was through letters (and the rare—and expensive—phone call.) Back then, I wanted to write a story about a young woman in the military and her adventures overseas, capturing some of them in her letters home. By the time I wrote Puddlington, however, I was in my sixties, so I made the main character—Hester, the postmistress—a middle-aged woman. However, there’s still a young woman in the military writing letters—Nora Clarke, a Wren in the Royal Navy.

Because I’m a rabid Anglophile who loves all things English, I’d hoped to return to my beloved England after I retired and spend the rest of my days there, but thanks to Brexit, the UK no longer has retirement visas. Instead, I watch All Creatures Great and Small and Escape to the Country on TV to get my English countryside fix.

Writing Puddlington was the single most joyous writing experience I’ve had in my career (so far.) Each day when I sat down to write, the words poured out of me like a fountain. Since I’m a pantser (seat-of-the-pants writer) rather than a plotter, usually when I write, I hit a roadblock partway through the book, wondering what happens next? How in the world am I going to write an entire book from this? This happens with every novel—and sometimes, more than once. But it didn’t happen with Puddlington—the story flowed easily and naturally with nothing getting in its way. It was bliss.

What inspired you to write a book set in England during World War II?

The pandemic. I didn’t realize I had PTSD from a traumatic incident at nineteen—an assault that made me fear for my life—until lockdown when the fear of getting Covid triggered my PTSD. Now, in my sixties in 2020, it wasn’t a group of men who might kill me, it could be anyone who breathed on me. To relieve those fears, I needed to escape to my beloved England and a time when everyone banded together to do the right thing (e.g., put up blackout curtains, planted victory gardens, etc.).

What was your biggest challenge writing about British characters set in a town so different from your own?

Honestly? It wasn’t much of a challenge since I read so many novels set in England; watch countless British TV shows set in small English villages; and formerly lived in an English village myself, in a 350-year-old stone cottage. The only challenge was making sure I got the language right. Happily, I was able to check with my English friend Patricia who lives in a Dorset town, and my Scottish friend Catriona, who kindly offered to vet my manuscript for Britishisms. I was thrilled to bits when the London editor who acquired Puddlington emailed that she was impressed at how authentically English my book was. It made my day.

Your main character, Hester Smith, finds herself in the difficult position of delivering mail during the war that could possibly contain heartbreaking news. How does she handle that?

By following the British maxim: Keep Calm and Carry On. (And having an occasional cry on the beach.)

Since there is a shocking death in the village, would you consider that this book has a foot in the mystery genre?

A toe, not a foot, since it’s a teensy, tiny mystery subplot.

You have a number of characters in this book. Do your characters arrive fully formed, or do they gradually reveal themselves as you write?

They gradually reveal themselves. I knew a lot about some of the characters before I started writing (e.g., that Nora was half-American/half-British and loved to read), but then I fleshed them out more fully in the process. That’s another one of the joys of being a pantser—discovering your characters during the writing.

Do you have a favorite character in the book?

That’s a tough question, Grace! If pressed, I’d say it’s a tie between my bookish, spinster postmistress Hester, and Minerva Winterbottom, the widowed, bohemian lady of the manor. (With Wordsworth-quoting gardener Amos close behind.)

You’ve had several books released or soon-to-be released within a short period of time, including Death of a Flying Nightingale, The Alphabet Sleuths, and coming this fall, The Pilgrimage of Primrose Honeychurch. All in different genres. Do you find writing in one genre more difficult than another? Do you have a favorite genre?

No, I don’t find writing in one genre more difficult than another—maybe because all my novels are character-driven. Granted, my historical fiction books took more research than the others, but I love research! Particularly WWII England—my favorite era and place. (And as a former member of the Air Force stationed at an RAF base in Oxfordshire years ago, it was my great privilege to write about the Flying Nightingales— who were based not far from where I’d been stationed—and to shine a spotlight on this group of real-life women heroes of the RAF that history has overlooked.

After writing two historicals set in wartime back-to-back, however, it was fun to make the switch to a cozy mystery, The Alphabet Sleuths, featuring four accidental senior sleuths. I began my publishing career writing stories that made people laugh; non-fiction domestic humor ala Erma Bombeck, then graduating to frothy chick-lit and cozy mystery novels. Decades ago in a creative writing class, the professor frequently picked the same two students’ works to read aloud: my essays, which made the class laugh, and those of a middle-aged woman who’d endured a lifetime of trauma, which made them cry.

I knew then that one day I wanted to make a reader cry. And now, with The Postmistress of Puddlington and The Pilgrimage of Primrose Honeychurch, I have.

Please tell us about The Pilgrimage of Primrose Honeychurch, coming in October.

Primrose Honeychurch (the second book of my heart) is a solitary curmudgeon with sensory issues who prefers books to people. At seventy, Primrose screws up her courage to take a trip to Hay-on-Wye, the legendary Welsh “Town of Books.” Unfortunately, her literary pilgrimage just won’t follow the plot. After an accident derails her trip, Primrose finds herself staying awhile with estranged family. She senses a kindred spirit in the niece she’s getting to know, who uncannily understands the world much the same as Primrose herself does.

What began as an unwelcome detour becomes something more profound. For the first time in her life, Primrose begins to glimpse the beauty—and courage—of true human connection.

What is the most important thing you learned since you started writing?

To never give up, and to push through the fear of trying new things. My entire writing career has been one surprise after another. I never planned to write humor—it came naturally. I certainly never planned to write mysteries—I assumed you had to be a plotter to do so. I had no plans to write historical fiction either, even though I love reading it. The idea was daunting. As for women’s fiction (aka book club fiction), that was the province of authors like Ann Patchett, Elisabeth Berg, and Amy Tan. I couldn’t write women’s fiction. Could I? But the idea kept nagging at me, so I shut out all the noise, stopped comparing myself to other authors, sat my butt in the chair and wrote the story that demanded to be told.

What are you working on now?

A cozy mystery with a musical-theater-loving accidental sleuth, and a dual timeline women’s fiction standalone set in an English bookshop in the 1950s and 1970s.

Thank you, Laura. Good luck in whatever genre you write in next.

Bio

Amazon bestselling and award-winning author Laura Jensen Walker writes in several genres--mysteries, historical fiction, women's fiction (book club fiction), and non-fiction. Laura is the author of a handful of lighthearted mystery novels including the #1 Amazon bestselling, Agatha-nominated. Murder Most Sweet, and The Alphabet Sleuths, which has been dubbed The Thursday Murder Club meets The Golden Girls. Laura flew a typewriter across Europe in Uncle Sam’s Air Force in her twenties and fell in love with all things English while stationed at an RAF base in the UK. Death of a Flying Nightingale, nominated for a Lefty Award, is her first historical novel. Her second WWII historical, The Postmistress of Puddlington, which will appeal to fans of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, releases in August 2026. Laura's women's fiction debut, The Pilgrimage of Primrose Honeychurch about a solitary, book-loving senior on a quest (releasing in fall 2026) has been called "the journey of a lifetime through wonder, laughter, and heartbreak--and many cups of tea--that's not to be missed."

Laura lives in Northern California in a wannabe-English cottage where she drinks tea and dreams of England. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America.

Grace Topping is the author of the Laura Bishop Mystery Series.

Ending a Trilogy

2026-08-04T01:00:00.000-04:00

by James M. Jackson

While searching for an agent for Niki Undercover, I had to provide summary plots for the second and third books. The second book, NikiUnleashed, was easy; I was already working on its third draft. The request occurred during Biden’s third year of presidency, and I decided Niki would fight against a conspiracy to install a new president by decapitating much of the line of succession.

Then Trump won the election and began reshaping the executive branch. Prior to the October 2025 start of my story, DOGE employed its flamethrower approach to firing “excess” employees, the President dismissed well-respected military officers, and the FBI terminated agents tied to the January 6th investigations. I could either use a fictional President X or incorporate the real one into the story.

Because those events directly affected Niki’s world, using a fictional presidency felt wrong. I won't include spoilers here, but I'll say this: unlike the typical thriller "ripped from today's headlines," this year I've frequently found myself reading headlines ripped from my story.

That wasn’t what made this novel my most difficult to write.

Even though I had a plot outline this time, I have a pantser’s brain. That became clear during the first draft of Niki Unbound as I addressed the emotional aspects of the story. I realized my subconscious had known all along that I was writing a trilogy. It had planted seeds in book one, nurtured them in book two, and book three featured the reaping. Understanding that this book had to fulfill the emotional promise introduced pressures I had never experienced as an author.

The emotional arc of a series tracks a character’s deep psychological growth in multi-layered stages rather than in one book. Series allow characters to keep growing, healing, or tragically falling short of their promise. With a living series, it’s incremental and never complete.

Not so in a trilogy. The closing of the third novel must leave readers believing that the author has fulfilled the emotional promises made in book one. Readers may prefer a different ending but accept that the one they read is fully justified. And best of all is if they are a bit sorry their time with the main characters has come to (at least for now) an end.

Early Bookbub reviews captured what I hoped:

“I really didn't see the end coming. I know this is the end of the trilogy of Niki but, I sure am hoping there will be more to the story!”

and

“I am so sad that this is the last book in the Niki Trilogy but am hopeful that she may make appearances in future Seamus books. Fingers crossed!”

Writers, how have you faced the challenges of completing a series? Readers, what’s your reaction when a beloved series ends?

* * * * *

James M. Jackson writes justice-driven thrillers with brains and bite, including the Niki Undercover Thriller trilogy and the Seamus McCree series. To learn more information about Jim and his books, check out his website, https://jamesmjackson.com. You can sign up for his newsletter (and get to two free short stories featuring his protagonists).

The Outer Banks (OBX) of North Carolina

2026-08-03T04:00:00.000-04:00

For years, my family and I vacationed in the Outer Banks (OBX), and those trips left me with treasured memories. When warm weather arrives, the region comes alive with outdoor concerts, long beach days, dinners at local restaurants, and afternoons browsing coastal shops filled with art, books, and one-of-a-kind gifts.

One of my favorite pleasures is sinking my toes into the sand with a good beach read in hand. A few years ago, as my husband and I began counting down to retirement, we bought a beach house in Kill Devil Hills. The town’s unusual name has several possible origins, including stories about strong “kill-devil” rum and the “killdeer” shorebird once common along the dunes.

Wilbur and Orville Wright

Kill Devil Hills is best known as the place where Wilbur and Orville Wright achieved the first powered airplane flight on December 17, 1903. On my daily walks near our house, I can see the Wright Brothers National Memorial rising above the landscape.

Manteo, Andy Griffith, and Blackbeard

I also love nearby Manteo, a quaint coastal town known for its harbor, Kill Devil Rum, and deep ties to early OBX history. The town is named for Manteo, a Native American from the Croatan tribe who served as a liaison between Roanoke Colony settlers and the indigenous peoples. He received the title Lord of Roanoke.

Manteo is also connected to beloved actor Andy Griffith, who made the area his home, and to the legends of Blackbeard, the infamous pirate associated with the waters of OBX.

Visitors can still enjoy Blackbeard-themed boat tours from Manteo’s harbor.

Lighthouses, Wild Horses, and Coastal Landmarks

The OBX stretches for miles along the shoreline, moving at a relaxed pace from sunrise to sunset. There are six lighthouses in OBX. Of those, visitors can climb the Bodie Island, Cape Hatteras and Currituck Beach lighthouses for sweeping coastal views, then head to Corolla to see the wild Spanish mustangs roaming freely along the dunes.

A 4x4 tour is one of the best ways to spot these horses, descendants of Spanish mustangs brought to North America in the 16th century. After centuries of adapting to the coastal environment, they are now protected under law as a unique herd in North Carolina. The area also offers landmarks such as historic Jennette’s Pier in Nags Head and Jockey’s Ridge State Park, home to the tallest living sand dune system on the Atlantic coast.

For me, the OBX is more than a summer destination—it is a cherished part of my home state of North Carolina, and a place filled with beauty and history. When I retire in December 2027, I plan to split my time between the Virginia and North Carolina coasts while staying connected to the OBX writing community and hosting the OBX Book Festival - Books at the Banks in October each year!

A Bit of Fun About Reading and Writing Books

2026-08-02T01:30:00.000-04:00

Image by Molly MacRae

What do you know about the word “meme?” I didn’t know anything until I looked it up. But I had to look it up in the online version of Meriam-Webster because the word doesn’t appear in either of the dictionaries I’ve been depending on (for more than fifty years).

British Scientist Richard Dawkins coined “meme” in 1976. He defined the word as “a unit of cultural transmission.” Cool. These days “meme” most often refers to the captioned graphics we see all over the internet. They run the gamut from hitting your funny bone to immediately hitting your trash can.

Fifteen or more years ago, I paired a few dozen photographs and drawings with quotations from some of my favorite writers and a few of my own thoughts. Here are six of them. Are they memes? I think maybe so. If they appeal to you, you're welcome to share them with proper credit.

Image by Mike Thompson

Image by naobim from Pixabay

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Image by Molly MacRae

Molly MacRae writes the Haunted Shell Shop Mysteries, the Highland Bookshop Mysteries, and the award-winning, national bestselling Haunted Yarn Shop Mysteries. Visit Molly on Facebook and Pinterest, connect with her on Instagram, Threads, and Bluesky.

Home Sweet Home by Mary Dutta

2026-08-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

Christopher Nolan’s epic modern retelling of The Odyssey has received overwhelmingly positive reviews. There are some people, however, who take issue with the film’s spin on the protagonist’s motivation and how it departs from the original ancient Greek version. Nolan presents an Odysseus shaped by trauma and his guilt over how his actions have violated the core values of his society. I found it an interesting modern approach, but I also would have been happy if the movie had stuck to the story’s roots and focused on the concept of nostos, or homecoming.

The desire to return home is universally relatable, and a character motivation that rings as true today as it did in Homer’s time. Think of The Wizard of Oz, which takes Dorothy and her companions on a journey rife with hurdles and dangers. At the heart of it all is the belief that there’s no place like home, and our heroine will never stop striving to get there.

A pining for home underpins true stories as well as fiction. That was underscored for me on a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Martin House in Buffalo, New York. Darwin Martin, the millionaire businessman who commissioned the home, had a rough childhood involving the death of his mother, family separation, financial struggles, and devastating loneliness.

Fast forward a few decades and Darwin is a Buffalo business titan building his dream house. According to the Martin House docent, the early trauma surrounding his family situation motivated Darwin’s dream of a perfect home, one where his scattered family could reunite, and an idyllic haven for his wife and children.

So common and resonant is the desire for home that I’m surprised I’ve never used it as a character motivation in one of my own short stories. My characters want lots of different things—revenge, money, justice, freedom--but none of those things have been in the service of nostos.

It’s an interesting omission in my own writing, and one that I think it’s time to address. I’ll get right on it as soon as I get home.

Can you relate to the power of home?

In Which Heat Takes Over My Life by Nancy L. Eady

2026-07-31T01:00:00.000-04:00

Today is the last day of July, and the weather here in Alabama reflects it, and then some. Even when the temperature sounds reasonable, the humidity makes it unbearable. Last week, because of rain and clouds, we had a high of 82 one day. The weather people cheerfully informed us that the heat index on this supposedly mild day would make it feel like 102. They were right.

Heat is not, of course, endemic only to the southeastern United States. I have known people who traveled to Phoenix, Arizona in the summer when the mercury there climbed to 120 degrees. Here in Alabama, we say that it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity that makes things uncomfortable. The people returning from Arizona solemnly informed me that there, it’s the heat, only the heat and nothing but the heat.

Once, my husband and I went to Boston in late June, and the weather was so beautiful, it blew us away. Highs in the low 80s, beautiful blue skies, refreshing breezes and the type of air that just begs you to drive around with your windows open. When things get too unbearable here, I close my eyes and try to bring those feelings back to mind.

Normally, in my life here, the heat is an outdoor inconvenience only. I endure it as I travel from my air-conditioned house to the air-conditioned car to the parking garage at work, and then into the office. However, last Saturday, our air conditioner died. And yes, I mean the three-month-old air conditioner in the three-month-old house that we took possession of in April. To say that I was perturbed was an understatement. It also happened to be the hottest weekend leading to the hottest week we have had all summer.

With the help of four portable air conditioners, we were getting by—one in each of the bedrooms where people sleep, and two in the big main room. Then, beginning Sunday night, the replacement portable air conditioner in our bedroom started malfunctioning. The display kept showing a symbol which meant that the drip tray needed to be emptied. We would empty the tray, and then at vanishingly small intervals the symbol would reappear. By the time the air conditioner quit at 12:30, my husband had moved into the den. He was trying to be chivalrous. When he left the bedroom, he was leaving the room with better air conditioning for the big room which was just squeaking by. My daughter, who had entered my bedroom to get some medicine, helped me empty the thing one more time for the 12:30 a.m. round. When the drip tray sensor tripped again at 2:00 a.m., I gave up and opened the window to get what little night air I could. My husband hadn’t slept well for several nights running, and I didn’t want to wake him up. When the alarm went off at 6:00, I had managed about two hours of sleep for the entire night, which my Fitbit cheerfully documented by telling me it looked like I had had a rough night. It doesn’t do any good to swear at a computer, but it made me feel better.

The air conditioner repair people arrived by 8:45 Monday morning, and fortunately the new home warranty covers the whole repair. Living through the weekend without our normal air conditioning did make me wonder how our pioneer ancestors managed it, especially considering the amount of clothes the women had to wear. The fortitude they had to persevere and settle in an area of the country where it stays this warm for months at a time is something those of us in the modern world cannot appreciate. And the restraint they showed in not murdering each other while under the influence of hot, humid weather is admirable as well. My regular even-keeled temper stayed on the razor’s edge of raging bull mad as long as the air conditioning was AWOL.

I have one last piece of advice for anyone stuck in a heatwave sans air conditioning—find someone with a Ford vehicle and get them to take you for a long drive. We have had several Fords, including one now, and Ford air conditioners can freeze you out within 60 seconds of entering the vehicle. I’m not sure what their magic ingredient is, but it works.

So, here’s to the end of July, and hopes for a cooler August, or at least an August during which everyone’s air conditioner works.

What We're Reading

2026-07-30T03:00:00.000-04:00

It’s been a while since we caught our readers up on what we are reading. I always get so many great ideas from these lists.

In no particular order:

Heather Weidner. My recent reading list includes: Pour Choices by Adrian Andover, Between Roquefort and a Hard Place by Linda Reilly, Murder by Design by Lee Goldberg, Full House by Janet Evanovich, Peg and Rose Solve a Murder by Laurien Berenson, Book of Lies by Brad Meltze, and Finlay Donovan Digs Her Own Grave by Elle Cosimano. And I’m currently enjoying The Emperor’s Palace by LynDee Walker and Bruce Robert Coffin.

Connie Berry. This summer I’m reading and rereading some of the Golden Age classics of mystery fiction. The last two, The Double Turn and Impact of Evidence, were penned by Carol Carnac, a pseudonym of Edith Caroline Rivett, a British crime writer who also wrote under the names E. C. R. Lorac and Mary Le Bourne. Rivett wrote an astonishing 78 crime novels in her lifetime, which is even more amazing since she died in 1958 at the young age of 64. I think her novels hold up very well in the twenty-first century.

Debra H. Goldstein. In the last few weeks, I’ve read A Flower Traveled in My Blood by Haley Cohen Gilliland, Whistler by Ann Patchett, The Bush Tea Murder by Ashley-Ruth M. Bernier, Famesick by Lena Dunham, Whiskey Business by Adrian Andover, and Three Bags Full by Leonie Swann. Right now, I’m toggling between Kin by Tayari Jones and an arc of Numb Were Beadsman’s Fingers by Alan Bradley).

Martha Reed. - My summer reading list is all over the board. 1) The Correspondent by Virginia Evans - epistolary tale with the plot revealed through the use of backstory; 2) What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund - an intriguing meditation on the physical processing act of reading; 3) New Orleans Stories - Great Writers on the City by John Miller - insider glimpses into the Big Easy from writers like Anne Rice, Lafcadio Hearn, Tennessee Williams, et al.; and 4) The Year's Best Science Fiction - 10th Collection, Gardner Dozois, Editor which has turned out to be drier fiction than I anticipated meaning more hard science and less use of imagination.

Marilyn Levinson a/k/a Allison Brook. I just finished Thirteen Guests by J. Jefferson Farjeon, a Golden Age of Mystery author; Elizabeth Strout’s The Things We Never Say; Unbound: Kate Reid Series, Books 1-3 by Robin Mahle; The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai; Astonish Me by Maggie Shipstead; House Rules by Jodi Picoult and I’m now reading Insidious Intent by Val McDermid and listening to Don’t Let Him In by Lisa Jewell.

K.M. Rockwood. Into nostalgia right now--I just finished Dashiell Hammett's manuscripts for the later Thin Man movies (they were not written as novels, and they aren't what we'd consider screenplays, so I don't know what to call them) and some of M.C. Beaton's Hamish Macbeth. I'm reading Death of a Gossip, the first of 37 or so books, and intend to pick up with a few of the later ones.

Annette Dashofy. I'm currently reading S.A. Cosby's King of Ashes, which deserves every accolade and award that he's getting for it. An immensely dark setting, a powerful story, and such beautifully immersive writing; it haunts me every time I have to put it down. I want to write like him when I grow up.

Grace Topping. I'm a fan of audiobooks. So here is what I am listening to right now: A Ghastly Catastrophe by Deanna Raybourn. It is the tenth book in the Veronic Speedwell series. And since they are so entertaining, I've listened to every one of them. They are historical mysteries filled with humor, outrageous plots, unbelievable characters, and a dash of romance. Pure escapism for these crazy times. The narrator does such a terrific job bringing these books alive that she should be considered a character in her own right.

Susan Van Kirk. I'm reading Nightwork by Nora Roberts. It's the story of a young man who robs the rich, going into their homes at night. There isn't a door or a safe he can't open. It's very suspenseful but also full of food, locales, and culture since he moves around the country and also travels to Europe.

Judy L. Murray. I’m reading Lee Goldberg’s latest, Murder by Design. An ingenious mystery introducing a brain-injured yet confident, wealthy and handsome former detective now insurance investigator who teams up with a likeable struggling actor.

Margaret S. Hamilton. I'm catching up on my book club reading: Navessa Allen, Lights Out, which is as spicy as promised; Caro Claire Burke, Yesteryear, trad wife gets real; and eagerly anticipating: Daniel Silva, Ransom, the latest Gabriel Allon thriller, and Martin Walker, A Murder in Springtime, the latest Bruno, Chief of Police cozy crime.

Lori Roberts Herbst. My summer reading: Murder at an Irish Session, by Carlene O'Connor. The latest in the Irish Village Mystery series, it takes a now-pregnant Siobhan to a murder at a matchmaking convention. I'm loving it! Murder at the Beacon Bakeshop, by Darci Hannah. Lovely locale and fun characters. Revenge Prey, by John Sandford. Lucas Davenport is one of my favorite series characters ever. I'm a little bit in love with him. The Secret of Secrets, by Dan Brown. Just starting this one, so the review will have to wait!

James M. Jackson. When I have a few moments from the last-minute push to publish Niki Unbound (Niki Undercover Thriller #3), I'm reading The Bone People by Keri Hulme, which won both the Booker Prize and the Pegasus Prize for Literature.

Shari Randall a/k/a Meri Allen. My summer reads: Book club favorites Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir, Theo of Golden by Allen Levi, and The Correspondent by Virginia Evans. For me, Theo especially lived up to the hype. My guilty pleasure: Barbara Taylor Bradford’s A Woman of Substance. They don’t write juicy family sagas like this anymore.

Molly MacRae. I’m reading The Beast Must Die. Published in 1938, it was written by Cecil Day Lewis writing as Nicholas Blake. It’s a thriller with elements of Golden Age Mystery. The protagonist, Frank Cairnes, is angry and bent on revenge when his young son is run down and killed by a motorcar outside their small English village. The book has been adapted for film several times (including in Argentina and France) and for a 2021 British television series.

An Interview With Author and Retired Police Officer Mark Bergin

2026-07-29T02:00:00.000-04:00

by Grace Topping

Saint Michael's Day

Patrolman John Kelly saves people every day for a living, but he can't accept that maybe, just maybe, God saved him during a vicious machine gun attack. His friends think so, and the crucifix-shaped pattern of bullet holes in his cruiser is hard to ignore. But Kelly has work to do, finding the gunmen, training a young recruit, and working to protect a foreign-born mother and her sickly child caught in the uncaring criminal justice system. Kelly's wife Rachel Cohen is a public defender, drafted to defend a murder suspect whose hatred violently and, ultimately, fatally erupts against her.

Apprehension

Kelly was a pro until his niece was murdered right before his eyes. His family says he failed her, but Kelly can't share his one shocking, secret, criminal act of vengeance. Now, fellow detectives digging into another case can end Kelly's career and send him to jail.

It’s annoying to read a book and think, “A police officer wouldn’t do that!” It shouts that an author didn’t do enough research about police procedures. Author Mark Bergin brings a level of authenticity to his books about the police. As a retired police officer, he knows firsthand how things are usually done and aren’t done.

Mark works not only to ensure police involvement is portrayed accurately in his writing, but he also advises other authors, answering their questions. His first book, Apprehension, won an award in 2022 from the Public Safety Writers Association and was a finalist for the Silver Falchion Award at the Killer Nashville Conference in 2021. His second book, Saint Michael’s Day, comes out in September.

I asked Mark about some police procedures and crime solving that authors should be aware of. Here are just a few.

Welcome back to Writers Who Kill, Mark.

Thank you so much, Grace, for the chance to talk with you and your readers. Getting published, especially with a second book in a series, has given me greater visibility and access to writers whom I can advise on cop stuff. I love this. Getting police details right satisfies most readers and, better, doesn’t turn off persnickety readers like me.

One thing that writers frequently get wrong is the type of gun used as a weapon, often referring to a gun, pistol, automatic, revolver, Luger, Derringer, etc. Is there a default weapon a writer can safely use not to get it wrong?

Gun. Leave it at that. Gun details matter to fetishists and to police evidence technicians but, in most of our writing, gun or pistol is enough. Your average event planner or dog groomer doesn’t know manufacturers or calibers, so if they see one, all they need to think is GUN!

Does a silencer completely muffle the sound of a gun being fired?

No. Big myth. It can, if you are an assassin or government agent and have one specially built. Three main issues with silencing a gun. Bullets are often supersonic, so they make a little sonic boom as they exit the barrel. Some ammunition is subsonic, like an Army 45-caliber pistol. But a semi-automatic pistol makes a racket because the steel slide, barrel, and breach are pushed back by the firing of the cartridge with a clatter, then clack forward to pick up a bullet coming from the magazine. Revolvers don’t have moving slides that way, but almost all have a gap between the cylinder and the barrel, from which the detonating powder explodes with a great deal of noise. An assassin might fire a subsonic round from a gun fixed not to cycle through the unloading- reloading movement.

That’s a long way to go to show my favorite point of discussion here. What do you, the writer, want to happen? We can craft a perfectly silent gun, or one nearly so, or have an inept killer use the wrong equipment. As long as we the writers hint what we’re up to. Give us some explanation, and you can get away with, um, murder.

A writer once asked, would a police chief handle a murder suspect interview? My question back to them was, what do you want to happen? Because in the real world, no, chiefs write budgets and meet with mayors and review staff reports. They don’t do nuts-and-bolts police work. But if you want her to, make her the only senior officer on duty during a blizzard, on a small department, with the victim a close friend or relative. Or block the chief because the victim is a relative and it’s a conflict of interest. What makes the story most interesting?

When a crime is reported, does a police detective automatically arrive on the scene?

Actually, they show up in very few cases. Detectives might be called out for serious crimes like murder, sexual assault, or bank robbery, but usually they just read and respond to reports the next day of events that were handled by patrol officers or deputies the night before.

In a cozy mystery, the police frequently warn the amateur sleuth to stay out of a case. Are there ever occasions when police would solicit help from someone to help solve a murder?

In my 28 years on the job, it never happened. We don’t want to admit we need help; we don’t trust anyone without a badge. They complicate chains of custody for evidence. But, in the Rabbi Small series, written by Harry Kemelman, Chief Lonigan spent time talking with Rabbi David Small about people and psychology and philosophy, and then the Rabbi fell into solving the crime(s). Kemelman was one of my favorite writers, and maybe the first cozy writer I ever encountered, long before the term was coined. (The rabbi in my new book Saint Michael’s Day is named Klein, which means small. I’m interested in how many folks pick up on it. Oops, now all of you will.)

Saint Michael’s Day, the second in my John Kelly Cases series, keys on issues of faith and predestination or preordination. My cop survives a shooting that should have killed him, and his survival is attributed to the hand of God. He and his wife spend some of the book ruminating on that issue with a priest, a rabbi, an imam, and their opinions are interesting. I wrote them to examine my own thoughts on the issue, and it’s up to readers to decide if I came to useful conclusions.

We talked about guns earlier. My new publisher, Level Best Books, has picked up on the coincidence that each of my four books in this series keys on a different gun. Apprehension features a police shotgun, so one appears on the cover. Saint Michael’s Day involves an Army Thompson submachine gun, so that will show on that cover. The Desert Eagle 50-caliber and the Nazi Schmeisser will show up down the road. Not an intention but, maybe, a sad function of my style

Cases are frequently solved by the use of DNA. Do the results of DNA testing come back that quickly to help solve a murder?

Oy. Ninety minutes in the magic lab on tv, 48 hours in a monster real-world rush, or weeks, or months. We would like to have results in a rush, but so would the other fifteen agencies submitting DNA samples to the state lab, or to their own large-department lab. Again, what does the writer want? But realistically, a week is common in reality.

What is the difference in using the term police and sheriff?

Police work for a chief hired by a jurisdiction’s government structure, the mayor, or the town council. Deputies work for a sheriff elected by a jurisdiction. Sheriffs are state officers, and deputies thus have statewide powers. Police are limited to their own jurisdiction and a short distance outside, so we can chase people.

Do police procedures differ much from one jurisdiction to another so that a writer can never get the procedures totally accurate?

No. The basics are mostly the same. We all have to respect the Constitution and citizen rights, we can’t just shoot people (though it seems some can), people are interviewed gently, or interrogated with more anger and the advisement of rights under Miranda. I tried extremely hard to portray police procedures accurately in my first novel, maybe to the detriment of smooth and entertaining storytelling, because I saw the book as a teaching experience for the public. My new book is looser, but no less accurate, and with fewer boring details.

Many cases have been lost in court because the chain of custody of evidence became compromised. What would you recommend to a sleuth when they find incriminating evidence?

Leave it there and call the actual cops. Hahaha. That never happens in books. And yes, it complicates things in court. But we can write past that. Improperly seized evidence can still be used in court if the circumstances of its seizure can be explained. This is key to my third book, now being written and tentatively titled Jig.

We’ve heard of writers doing a “ride-along” with police to learn more about police procedures. Is this method worth doing, or are there better ways to learn what police do to make their books more authentic?

Absolutely nothing better than that. A ride-along lets writers see the moment-by-moment day of a cop or detective, maybe answering specific questions but more likely prompting spontaneous police details. The stuff you never thought to ask.

Tell me, is there such a thing as a someone making a citizen’s arrest?

It’s a myth. There is really no such thing, though the internet search I felt compelled to undertake says they exist in some jurisdictions. But what’s an arrest? A seizure of a person accused of a crime, leading to a criminal charge and trial. Nothing stops Neighborhood Jane from grabbing a person stealing bicycles, but then what? How does Jane hold him? (Calls the cops.) How does she bring charges? (Goes before a magistrate to swear out a warrant or tells the cops enough that they do it for her.) But, what if it’s not Jane’s bike? Or she hurts the suspect, or gets hurt herself?

Process servers, bail bondsmen, bounty hunters make what could be called citizen’s arrests but are generally based on the suspect being wanted by a jurisdiction and arrest warrants being issued. It is still much more rare than popular fiction would have it, but fun.

Are the police willing to share information with writers? If so, who on the police force should a writer contact for information?

Start with the public information officer or spokesman, or if there isn’t one, with the chief’s office. Explain you would like an interview or a ride-along. Most departments allow or encourage this. And all of you good folks reading this, please don’t hesitate to make contact with me. I am at mbergin01@aol.com. I would love to talk with you and talk is the right context. Write to me with the basics of what you are working on, and I will set up an opportunity to talk on the phone or do a video call. Issues get complicated, and it’s easier to see you and share than send a dozen emails back and forth. No charge (though I have learned some do.)

Or meet me for coffee. Coffee is always good. I’m in Alexandria, Virginia.

Thank you, Mark. I look forward to the publication of Saint Michael’s Day.

The Summer of My Content by Martha Reed

2026-07-28T05:30:00.000-04:00

Because the neighborhood kids are out of school for the summer, my usually serene mornings are now punctuated by their horseplay, laughter, and shouts as they enjoy my apartment complex’s nearby swimming pool. With our recent series of oppressive Western Pennsylvania heat waves, I can’t blame them for enjoying the water. I grab my noise-cancelling headphones and settle in to reach my daily writing word count.

But one morning I woke up in a pensive mood. I enjoyed a stroll down memory lane recalling the summers of my youth while I finished my lemon-ginger tea. I was a lucky kid although I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I lived on a lake while growing up in Chagrin Falls, Ohio, and spent at least a month each year, usually August visiting my grandfather’s place on Lake Muskoka, Ontario, Canada.

I don’t remember ever learning to swim. Surrounded by that much water, I’m sure we must have learned to swim as toddlers. I do faintly recall an added incentive that once we ‘passed the test’ by dog-paddling solo from the dock ladder to the shore we were released from the perpetually enforced requirement of being strapped into a ghastly, mold-covered orange canvas life vest that blocked my ears and put a crushing chokehold on my throat.

I also recall a homemade lodge-pole pine log raft my boy cousins built one summer. That raft was so tippy that swimming up to it and climbing aboard was like playing an insane 3D game of Twister. Each one of us desperately tried to stay balanced before the unstable contraption bucked us off. We needed to dive deeply into the lake to survive because that raft threatened to brain us as it flipped.

At my present age, and with my passionate interest in crime motivation, I do wonder where the adults were, and why no one ever tried to stop us. We won’t even talk about the frayed rope swing.

Enough rabbit-hole reminiscence. My topic today is that after hearing the kids' joyful laughter outside, I spontaneously decided to take July 2026 off. Without guilt.

Yes, I kept my 2026 responsibilities outlined on my calendar. I put my daily manuscript word count on hold. This action almost sounds treasonous, but it has liberated my days. I finished polishing and submitted three short stories that had been patiently waiting in the wings for their turn at some of my previously non-existent free time. I’ve spontaneously visited two local Pittsburgh sites that I’ve wanted to see for decades, invited a godchild out to lunch, and enjoyed a new French Modern Art exhibit. I’ve discovered a lovely shady spot down on the Allegheny Riverbank for my afternoon reading. The benefit is that I can feel a returning life balance. My creative well-spring is filling back up.

In our modern day social media world, taking a break without guilt may be a mentally healthy thing to do. It’s all too easy to get discouraged when we see our worthy peers announcing their latest multi-book contracts and their new book launches, or when the year-end awards come out without listing our titles. To feel like whatever we’re doing as writers isn’t good enough.

“I’m not happy. I’m cheerful. There is a difference. A happy woman has no cares at all. A cheerful woman has cares but has learned how to deal with them.” – Beverly Sills

Do you ever take a break? What’s your trick for refilling your creative well?

Procrastination and Fear by Nancy L. Eady

2026-07-27T01:00:00.000-04:00

I have mentioned this before, but on my list of necessary evils, housework falls somewhere between doing my tax returns and getting a tetanus shot. There is only one time that changes. If I am up against a writing deadline, or need to study for a test of some kind, or prepare for a hearing, housework shoots right up to the top of my list of priorities. Housecleaning is the perfect procrastination tool. Physical work, little thought, and the righteous satisfaction of seeing the dust and grime yield before me will squash any lingering concerns about the looming deadline. Until I stop cleaning house and the worry floods right back into me. The only drawback to housekeeping-as-procrastination is that no matter how hard I clean, the deadline remains, looming closer.

Are there good ways to deal with procrastination? I haven’t found many that work for me beyond the drop-dead deadline. (Not the fake deadline you set up to try to get something done early, but the drop-dead/your-case-will-be-thrown-out-of-court deadline.) The best thing about a deadline is that you reach a point, whether you want to be there or not, where you just have to start writing or working on whatever it is you have been avoiding. When the deadline involves a writing project, I may be thinking the entire time, “This is the worst paragraph/story/essay/brief/scene I’ve ever written,” but at least I am putting words on paper. (I am, of course, speaking metaphorically since most of my writing now is done on a laptop or desktop computer with a keyboard, but the principle is the same.)

I have been to a couple of seminars on the issue, and they have dangled the tantalizing possibility that procrastination has psychological roots. That has two advantages. First, if it is a psychological problem, then I can believe that it’s not really my fault that I like to procrastinate. Second, it gives me even more rabbit holes to go down while I’m trying to procrastinate by looking up stuff on the internet. (Once, during an extended three-week writer’s block session, I googled such interesting topics as who was Elizabeth II of England’s sister’s husband, whether “redeemability” is a word and if so, the definition thereof, the list of daily specials at the local cafe, and the cost of the law office for sale one block from my house. I also confirmed that neither I nor my husband had uveal melanoma, congenital heart disease, eosinophilic asthma, defective automatic levelers in our camper, or unexplained hair loss.)

I do find that procrastination can be based in part on fear—fear that my work won’t be any good, fear that I am not capable of doing the task I have been set, and the fear of failing are just a few I can come up with. In my life, I have discovered only two ways to deal with fear. The first is to go through it. I could look it squarely in the face, take a deep breath, and walk through it with my head held high. That sounds quite noble, doesn’t it? I’d be impressed with myself if I had ever managed to do that more than a smattering of times when it really mattered. Most of the time, if I am in the “go through it to the other side” mode, I do it with my eyes closed, shuffling my feet slowly forward inch by inch, grabbing every handhold I can find. It’s not nearly as noble, but it still gets me where I need to go.

The other technique is to avoid the thing that causes the fear. Avoidance works really well with things like spiders and cockroaches. I was 40 before I ever killed a spider, and that was only because Mark was at work, it was just me and a five-year-old Kayla in the house, and she was more terrified than I was. And before you laugh and try to point out to me that said insects are much smaller than me, so it shouldn’t be a problem, you obviously don’t know your natural history very well. It is a proven fact that any insect you try to kill has the ability, should it wish, to morph into a creature six feet tall with slathering fangs and the ability to smash you into smithereens and then boil you for lunch. Avoidance doesn’t work nearly as well when the thing that causes fear is a task that has to be accomplished, like doing your taxes. Trust me, the IRS doesn’t care how scared you are; it wants your return filed correctly and by the appointed date and time.

So I’m curious, fellow writers and gentle readers, what techniques have you found to help you deal with procrastination, especially the fear-based variety? Does procrastination or fear affect your writing? Any advice would be welcome.

Hell Hath No Fury by Annette Dashofy

2026-07-26T00:00:00.000-04:00

My nineteenth novel is coming out in just a few short weeks. Nineteenth. I never dreamed I’d ever reach that number.

Hell Hath No Fury is the fifth in my Detective Honeywell series. Back when I had to come up with a proposal for the third, fourth, and fifth, I looked into my writerly crystal ball to give my publisher a paragraph summarizing the plots of each book. The third (The Devil Comes Calling) was no problem. The fourth (No Stone Left Unturned) drifted a little farther away as I put words on the page, but the basic premise clung to the proposed story.

But this one? Not even close. The change was partly because of research I did on what I’d intended to write. Or more specifically, where it was to be set. I had proposed transporting Matthias and Emma out of downtown Erie, to a nearby wooded gorge for a romantic get-away, only to have murder interrupt their plans.

A research trip revealed the location where the mystery was to take place was not the sprawling, secluded park I’d pictured. It was too small for anyone to realistically get hopelessly lost in. Nope, this wouldn’t work. I considered exploring the area further to find a better spot.

Before that happened, I finished writing No Stone Left Unturned, which ended with a bit of a cliffhanger, providing the perfect location for the next book, although the romantic getaway was off the table.

Hell Hath No Fury picks up where Stone leaves off. Matthias and Emma are summoned back to Emma’s former home in Washington County.

Washington County is where I live. The individual locations in the book are vague and mostly fictional, but the county is real. In fact, for those of you who have read my Zoe Chambers series, the fictional Monongahela County of Zoe’s world is based on Washington County. Not that I expect this tidbit to come up in any game of Trivial Pursuit, but there you have it.

No sooner do Matthias and Emma arrive, than they manage to stumble across a dead body—someone with whom Emma has just had a very public argument. Being off his home turf, Matthias is limited as to how much investigating he can “legally” do. Keyword: “legally.” Plus, he comes face to face with an old nemesis, who is now the lead detective on the case.

There’s a lot of history in this story. Not “history” as in historical fiction. History as in Matthias’s history with this investigator. Emma’s history with the victim, her sister, and a couple of her childhood friends. Their pasts are all coming back to bite them.

I’m so eager for this one to be out in the world. I just received an email notice that my author copies have been shipped! Release Day is coming!

A Life on Vacation

2026-07-25T03:00:00.000-04:00

By Kait Carson

I was casting around for a last-minute blog topic this morning so I could finalize my Newsletter this afternoon and coming up empty. What a surprise, I thought. My brain is on vacation. That’s when the light bulb lit and pulsed. Vacations. Past. Present. Future. How perfect.

My Dad worked for the Otis Elevator Company. Like most 1950s kids, I’m clueless about how much annual vacation my father received, but I knew that somewhere in the two-week period that surrounded my July birthday, we’d be packing the car for a road trip.

Road trips were the quintessential defining events of the era. We drove from our New Jersey home to Miami, Cuba (the auto ferry assisted with the watery parts), Washington D.C., Northern Virginia, Upstate New York, Montreal, the 10,000 Islands, Boston, Philadelphia, and of course, the Jersey Shore (pronounced goin’ dinna shore). Many of these trips were pre-interstate highway systems. Traveling back roads was a joy for a kid, and Dad turned off at any place the AAA TripTik suggested a historical or scientific location. Sometimes he even found them! I didn’t appreciate the magic of those trips until I became an adult and air travel replaced the open road.

By the time my generation was self-supporting, recessions, sky-rocketing oil prices, and economic downturns plagued the world. So, let me begin by saying unless you consider retirement a vacation, I may hold the record for taking a grand total of one during my working life. Quite the accomplishment when you consider my work life began in 1974. But don’t hang out the hankies for me. My lack of vacations didn’t equal a lack of travel. Between 1980 and 1989, I had a part-time job running a friend’s company in Europe and the Caribbean. Every weekend and most holidays found me in St. Thomas, Sint Maarten, Saba, Stasia, Milan, Florence, Paris, and London. Cue the hankies. It was exhausting.

During the 1990s, I became a rabid scuba diver and spent most weekends in the Florida Keys. This hobby led to my only real vacation. A live-aboard dive trip to Belize in 2004. Maine beckoned soon after, followed by a return to Florida. The pandemic brought me full-circle with a return to Maine. In many ways, life turned into a vacation. Talk about good fortune.

These days, I’m retired, living in Maine and grateful for the journals I kept of my travels. When you’re a writer, no experience goes unrewarded, or unplundered. I’m in the vicarious vacation stage of my life. Giving the odd nuggets of past events to my characters and watching them grow into scenes and plots.

Writers: Do you plunder your past in the service of your art? Readers: Do you enjoy ripped from real-life events in fiction?

Kait Carson writes the Hayden Kent Mysteries, set in the Fabulous Florida Keys, and is at work on a new mystery series set in her adopted state of Maine. Her short fiction has been nationally published in the True Confessions magazines and in Woman’s World. Kait’s short story, “Gutted, Filleted, and Fried”, appeared in the Silver Falchion Award-nominated Guppy Anthology Hook, Line, and Sinker. Her nonfiction essay was included in the Agatha Award-winning book Writing the Cozy Mystery. She is a former President of the Guppy Chapter of Sisters in Crime, and a current member of Sisters in Crime and Guppies.