Books We Love to Read from Authors Around the World

Why Have Animals As Characters? by Victoria Chatham

2026-04-23T01:30:00.003-06:00

I love all animals. Even little critters, like frogs. They give me the creeps, but I find them fascinating. By far my favourite animals are horses and dogs, and more recently, cats. Animals have long had their place in literature.

Think Bolingbroke’s horse Barbary from Shakespeare’s King Richard II or grey Capilet in Twelfth Night. There is, of course, the ubiquitous Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, Don Quixote’s Rocinante, and Marguerite Henry’s Sham from her book King of the Wind. Zane Grey named many of the horses in his western novels, as did Louis L’Amour. Smoky, Ginger, Merrylegs, Artax, The Black, Joey are names that I have known and love from the stories in which they appeared.

Who can forget Buck from Call of the Wild, or Bulls Eye, Bill Sikes’ dog from Oliver Twist, and didn’t we all love Perdita and Pongo, the Dalmatians from 101 Dalmatians? Stephen King’s Cujo might have given some of us nightmares, as did The Hound of the Baskervilles, but I don’t mind betting cute little Peg from Lady and the Tramp had you smiling again. Cats, albeit to a lesser degree, also have their place in literature, such as Crookshanks from the Harry Potter tales, Tab from Watership Down and all those marvellous cat characters from T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. Old Deuteronomy, Rumpleteazer, Rum Tum Tugger all appeared in the musical Cats.

Lennard

I write historical and contemporary western romance novels, so it's almost impossible for me not to include animal characters. In my cozy mystery series, my amateur sleuth, Winnie Hatherall, has a lovable big mixed-breed dog named Lennard. How did my Regency Lord get from his London residence to his country estate? He either drove his team himself or was driven by his coachman. A team of four horses, plus a couple of park hacks in town and hunters in the country, added up to a minimum of a stable of eight horses. The better those horses were kept, the longer they were of service, so would all have been named and known as individuals.

What I try to bring to my pages when I write horses into my novels is how that particular animal impacts my hero or heroine. They usually have a part to play in showing off my characters’ skills, as they do for Emmaline in His Dark Enchantress. In Shell Shocked, set at the end of World War 1, the dog, Bella, helps her master recuperate from his experiences at the front. In my contemporary western romances, what cowboy does not have a horse, and often a dog, both for work and company?

Animals, real or imagined, help ground us humans with their sense of immediacy, of being in the here and now. Animals add so much to my life, and I want that for my characters, too.

Victoria Chatham

AT BWL PUBLISHING INC

ON FACEBOOK

MY WEBSITE

Did a cop write this story? by Dean Hovey

2026-04-22T01:00:00.033-06:00

By now, I hope everyone knows D.L. Dixen's resumé includes experience in the criminal justice system bringing added depth to my nerdy science background. She suggested the book's title and many of the scenes and characters are seasoned by her life experiences. She shared a recent discussion she'd had with a law enforcement officer who heard the book's title and asked, "Did a cop write this?" The title sounds like something one officer would say to another when discussing a death scene with no obvious cause of death.That's exactly where this book starts. Our Pine County investigators are called to "The Dusty Muskie Bar and Event Center" where one of the previous Night's customers decided he was too intoxicated to drive home so he slept on a cot in the back room. When the owner tried to wake him the next morning, he was unresponsive. When CJ, Pam. and Floyd arrive they determine that "sleeping beauty" woke up dead. The Medical Examiner's initial assessment shows no foul play. As Pam and CJ dig deeper, they become suspicious of that determination.The story twists on from there as we throw in check washing, a bank robbery, a drug deal gone wrong, and a suspicious dysfunctional family with two sons on probation. CJ and Pam's personal lives intrude on the investigation when Pam's husband wins the (equine) grand prize in a 4-H raffle. There are a few laughs, a bit of cursing, a few tears, and a few tense moments as the investigation takes unexpected turns.Check it out on Amazon, of join us for one of our summer book events in Askov, Milaca, Moose Lake, Cambridge, White Bear Lake, Sandstone and more! https://www.amazon.com/dp/0228640520 Print https://www.amazon.com/stores/Dean-L.-Hovey/author/B00J78JMLY

The Mystery of Old Economy Village, by Diane Scott Lewis

2026-04-21T06:50:00.181-06:00

A young adult haunted house story. Five stars from Long and Short Reviews! They were thrilled by the novella.

To purchase, click HERE

Today's post is about a visit I took with my husband and best friend to Old Economy Village, an historic site near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I hope you find it interesting.

The village was founded by German Lutheran separates in the 19th century. A sect that formed to create a utopian society, waiting for the second coming of the Messiah.

Visitors can explore several historic buildings, original artifacts, and learn about their culture.

George Rapp led the group. He began preaching in his native Germany. When he split from the Lutheran Church he was banned from preaching. He called himself a prophet and defied the church. His subsequent persecution forced him to flee to the United States with his followers in 1803.

He preached celibacy to keep the group pure as they waited for the Messiah. They didn't believe in procreation, and that was their downfall. Pretty soon they died out.

Rapp died in the village in 1847

Here is my husband talking to our guide

The society was self-sufficient. A sawmill, tannery, distillery. We even took part in rope making. I can't find the picture I took of that.

They nurtured beautiful gardens and grew their own food.

Harmonist church-another society in Harmony, PA, founded by Rapp

They were nonviolent pacifists who refused to serve in the military. Following the literal teachings of the New Testament, as interpreted by Rapp, they believed Jesus would come again and a thousand years of peace would ensue. Their experiment failed.

Rapp was sometimes called a tyrant and was sued by former members for compensation, so not everything was peaceful.

The village is mostly intact and welcomes visitors. A fascinating excursion.

A recent storm sent a tree onto one of the buildings, crushing it. Sorry to hear that.

Find out more about me and my books

Diane lives in western Pennsylvania with one naughty Dachshund

A time before ready meals...by Sheila Claydon

2026-04-20T00:00:00.000-06:00

Find my books here

This is the cover for my new book, due to be published in May. As usual, BWL has come up with a great cover. The four leaf clover features throughout the story in one way or another, so it really is a case of 'it does what it says on the tin.' The cover is the easy bit though. Editing it has been an altogether different matter.

The first half of the book is set in 1979. The second half, six years later. Also, to confuse matters further, I wrote it some time in the 1980s, which was, as the introduction says; 'a time before ready meals, before takeaway coffees. A time when a microwave oven was considered the latest in technology. A time when we used maps to navigate, reference books for research, and learned phone numbers off by heart.'

I discovered the manuscript, which I had never tried to have published, when I was clearing our loft space. I immediately sat down to read it, ignoring all the dust and spider webs as it took me back in time to when I was a young mother, at home all day, looking after small children. The further I read, the more I identified with Joanne, the heroine, even though her life was very different from mine. She, too, dialled numbers on a phone that was attached by cable to a land line. She travelled by bus. If she was late home then the meal her mother had cooked her was dried out in the oven. Teashops were more usual than coffee shops. Sunday lunch was sacrosanct, and holidays were never in hotels but in guest houses in seaside towns. I remembered, too, what it was like to meet someone more sophisticated and not want to lose face, which is something that happens to Joanne.

Her life and relationships are certainly not mine, but it was clear that in those far off days my observations and early memories had shaped the story.

Trying to re-write it for the present day would not have worked. Life and how people handled relationships were so different then. With no cell phones or Internet, people had to meet up to talk. And they had to rely on physical clues...will she let me kiss her....does that mean she wants me to leave...why is he looking at me like that? No dating apps. No texting. No sexting. And interestingly, far more freedom to risk a kiss than is possible in today's 'me too' world.

So instead of attempting a re-write, I began to edit and polish what would be a retro book. By the time I sent it off to the editor I was feeling quite pleased with myself. It was a good story wrapped up in an unintended history lesson. Then it came back and the editor's criticisms and suggestions made me look at it anew with a much more critical eye. She was right. I did need to change the tense in quite a few places. I did need to tighten up the dialogue. And where she got it wrong I needed to revisit to see why, and then rephrase.

It's been an interesting exercise. I have not only learned to read an older manuscript much more critically, especially one that I had forgotten about, but I have also realised how much better a writer I have become over the years. My later books get few editorial comments. My writing is tighter, and my characters leap straight from my imagination onto the page instead of me having to work at developing them.

So now all I have to do is decide whether to write a new story, or whether to defy the spiders and go hunting in that loft space again.

Blood by Bonny Beswick

2026-04-19T01:00:00.006-06:00

https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/0228634733?ref_=dbs_m_mng_rwt_calw_tpbk_0&storeType=ebooks&qid=1 753570492&sr=1-1

Finding killers is Calgary Police Detective Janice Maidstone’s job, for now, but her parents want her back on the short-grass prairie in southern Saskatchewan to take over the ranch. Janice must choose between the police service in a job she loves, or the life as a rancher to carry on the family legacy.

The decision hangs over her head while she and her partner investigate their latest case involving a pregnancy, a playboy fiancé, a greedy business partner, and a jealous bride.

BLOOD

Before I get to the main topic of my blog this month, I’m going to start again with our nearest space neighbour. Here’s some late breaking news about the moon (and no, it’s not about the Artemis mission). Chris DeWeese, Senior Editorial Writer for The Weather Channel wrote this:

“Thanks to new observations from the James Webb Space Telescope (JWST), NASA announced that the moon will be spared from what could have been a very explosive run-in with a “city-killer” asteroid in 2032. This new data suggests that, instead, asteroid 2024 YR4 will pass 13,200 miles from the lunar surface. The agency had previously given this asteroid a 4% chance of hitting the moon, which might not sound like much, but is actually pretty high stakes, so far as these things go.

The large asteroid, estimated to stretch between 174 and 220 feet in diameter, was first discovered in 2024, and scientists have been closely tracking it ever since. Early concerns were that it could potentially hit Earth; if an asteroid this size did hit our

planet, it could wipe out a city, carrying the equivalent force of 500 atomic bombs. The good news? We don’t have to worry about that happening, either to us or to our cold, silent satellite.

So now that we can heave a sigh of relief about avoiding a catastrophe on our doorstep that we didn’t even know about, let’s get on to what I had planned to write about this month!

Blood.

As a writer of Police Procedural Murder Mysteries, you might think I’m going to write about gory crime scenes. Salacious suspense. Fictional femme fatales. Sorry. This month, it’s all nonfiction.

Blood makes up about 7-8% of our body weight. From high school biology, we know that it’s made up of red blood cells (erythrocytes), white blood cells (leukocytes), platelets, and a liquid portion (plasma). This straw-coloured fluid accounts for about 60% of total blood volume, while erythrocytes make up roughly 40%, along with leukocytes and platelets. (Physiology, Blood Volume Ragav Sharma , Sandeep Sharma)

I’ve always been a regular donor at Canadian Blood Services (formerly the Canadian Red Cross). Mom and Dad set the example early, and as soon as I turned 18, I made a point to attend the travelling clinics. I think the first place I donated was in Pincher Creek, Alberta in 1973. For many years, I gave whole blood. They didn’t even start accepting plasma donations until 1998, when they became the Canadian Blood Services.

Throughout those years, I was fortunate to have employers who were accommodating and never questioned the two hours I took to trek across the city, donate and return to work. At the time, I made the effort because it felt good, in a remote sort of way.

But in August 2013, I became one of the approximately 52% of Canadians (they, or a family member) who needed blood (or blood products), when I broke my leg, requiring a two week hospital stay and two surgeries. I ended up getting two units of whole blood and suddenly the value of commitments made by volunteers to give blood became personal.

After receiving the blood product, I had to wait a number of months before donating again. After the deferral period was over, I never got back into the habit. Life got in the way and I only went occasionally and even returned to donating whole blood instead of plasma.

Last week, a Facebook ad popped up reporting that most of the plasma used in Canada comes from the United States. Plasma Donation in Canada - Canada.ca What?? The idea that we are dependant on another country to maintain our blood supply, especially since

so much of that blood is not given by volunteers, but by people who are paid to give, doesn’t sit well with me. Although I’ve seen no statistics to the contrary, I can’t help but think volunteers IN GENERAL would be healthier than those who give because they are being paid.

With that in mind, I’ve decided to make donating a priority again. In fact, I’ve made a specific goal. Over the next 12-month period, I plan to donate 25 times. Since Canadian Blood Services allows plasma donations every six days (weekly), it should be easy to roll up my sleeve twice a month.

But is that healthy?

At each donation, haemoglobin levels and in the case of plasma, blood protein levels are tested. If I fail, even a tiny bit, to meet the standards, I’ll be deferred for several months, and have to do a walk of shame out of the clinic (just kidding, they’re very nice about it and even let you stop and partake of the snacks before you go).

Other common reasons for deferral include out-of-country travel, illness, surgery, vaccinations, and tattoos.

Recently, the news reported that two people died after giving plasma at a for-profit Winnipeg collection centre. To date, no causal link between their donations and their death has been established. 2 people die after giving plasma at for-profit Winnipeg collection centres: Health Canada | CBC News. Over the course of my plasma donations (well over 200), I’ve never experienced a negative reaction, nor has anyone that I know who donates.

But why is it so important to donate plasma?

• Plasma is used for transfusion in hospitals for someone who needs more blood volume because of burns, shock, trauma, or other medical emergencies.

• It is used to help develop new medications

• Clotting proteins found in plasma are used to help control bleeding (critical for those suffering from clotting disorders)

• The immune proteins contained in plasma assists in cancer many treatments, chicken pox, measles, tetanus, immunodeficiencies, kidney disease, hepatitis B, brain disorders and bone marrow transplants.

While many people cannot donate (due to medical conditions or proximity to donation centres), many more can, but never do. If you’re one of those that don’t, I encourage you to do it. Take a friend. Who knows, you, or someone you love, may need it.

Fun Fact: Frozen plasma has a shelf life of one year. Some references:

Plasma

What Is Plasma in Blood?

Change by Bonny Beswick

2026-04-19T01:00:00.003-06:00

www.bonnybeswick.com

The Aquamarine Necklace: Beswick, Bonny: 9780228634737: Books - Amazon.ca

The Aquamarine Necklace: A Janice Maidstone Mystery, by Bonny Beswick — Books We Love Publishing Inc.

CHANGE

The bi-annual kerfuffle over the time change has me thinking about how I react to change.

The Greek philosopher Heraclitus from the city of Ephesus (photo of the ruins at Ephesus) said that “no man ever steps in the same river twice”. In other words, our lives are characterized by constant change. So, if the nature of life and my reality is in constant flux, why does it so often make me uncomfortable?

Though the seasonal time change doesn’t bother me, why do so many get their knickers in a twist when March and October roll by and it comes to change the clocks? After all, it’s only taking one hour of sleep away. And let’s be honest, how many times do we accommodate bedtime pushed an hour one way or the other to watch a great television program or the Olympics? To have company over?

And how difficult is it to change clocks? Goodness sakes, these days, most devices change automatically. If not, how many time pieces are there in a typical house? Three or four? Surely changing them can’t take more than five minutes.

In the big scheme of things, what’s the big deal? Life throws other things our way that legitimately warrant the energy to complain.

But I admit, my resistance to change is increasing as I get older. Why?

Is it fear? Even die-hard adventurers must fear the unknown, don’t they? Maybe their anxiety about unpredictable outcomes and personal inadequacies is tempered by the experience and bravado I lack.

How much is due to a moral attachment to existing routines? I don’t think I often mutter to myself if it was good enough for someone else, then it’s good enough for me. And I definitely try to avoid saying “that’s not the way Mom used to cook it” when I go for dinner to my sister's house!

Maybe it’s just because I don’t have as much energy to burn as I did as a younger pup. That’s legitimate, isn’t it, when there’s additional effort required to make a change and I drag my feet? Even when, for example, when someone suggests yet ANOTHER software programme to do something that trusty, reliable EXCEL can do. It’s not that I cannot learn something new. It’s that I do not WANT to devote the energy to it (even if the end result might be worth it.)

Mind you, I find the change more palatable when it is suggested by someone I trust.

Change requiring an alteration to my routine, forcing me out of my comfort zone, leads to (sorry to admit) passive resistance, usually. Procrastination – often. And outright opposition and sabotage – who, me?

I am consciously trying to accept change more willingly and with a better attitude.

The Greek Stoic philosopher Epictetus is credited with saying that we cannot control what happens to us, only how we react to it. Though this is common sense, I need to remind myself of it when I’m being particularly obstinate.

Though my tendency is to have a knee-jerk reaction, I try to pause. Take a breath and a second look. Why am I objecting? Being contrary? Would I accept the change if it came from someone else? Or what if I came up with the idea?

I will change the perspective. Does it make it easier? Is the impact of the change going to rock my world (few are) or is it just a minor alteration? And is the effort worth the result?

What if I revise my mental image? If I decide to stay away from desserts, it’s easy to sulk. But instead of deprivation, if I focus on the trousers I want to get back into, it’s easier to leave the table.

The bottom line is that I want to steer clear of transforming into a curmudgeonly old biddy, constantly locking horns and resisting change.

April is going to be filled with making changes. Both the sequel to Janice Maidstone’s “The Aquamarine Necklace” (“What Love Made Us Do”) and the revised edition of “Under the Ombu Tree” are back from my editors and are waiting for me to do the final polishing. Can I look at the changes they suggest with an open mind? Willing heart?

Prairie Treasures by Nancy M Bell

2026-04-18T00:30:00.002-06:00

To learn more click on the image above.

Small Town Prairie Treasures

Just about every small town you come across on the Alberta prairies has a museum. They are depositories of the people and history that make each place unique. I have had the pleasure and privilege of being allowed access to the Castor and District Museum while researching my new novel Jessie's Cafe. The building still exits although it is in rough shape but it's stories live on in the minds of many people who call Castor home.

The museum is housed in an old Canadian Pacific railway station. Here you will find many old photos and mementos of bygone days. Butter churns, pottery water coolers, games and needlework. You can visit antique hospital equipment and imagine what a trip to the hairdresser's used to look like.

There are books containing the history of the region and town along with personal accounts from long time residents and those who have passed on, leaving their words to remind us of who they were and what was.

Housed in the basement of the museum are archives of the now defunct Castor Advance newspaper. Dating from the 1900's right up until the paper ceased to exist in 2024. It was such fun to carefully turn the yellowed pages that documented life in the 1900's and then further on into the 20s and 50s. Advertisements for cattle and land, businesses that flourished in Castor during that era. Some for a long time and some gone like prairie smoke in a very short time.

Some places that have ceased to exist are remembered in the pages of the archives. The village of Bulwark was located not far from Castor and the pages of the archives make mention of the comings and goings of those by gone inhabitants. All that remains today is the Bulwark Cemetary still guarding it's occupants on the windswept grasslands.

Just a bit north of Castor is Donalda whose town boasts a huge lantern that is the centre piece of the town. To the south of us Hanna lays claim to a giant cactus which you can find at Cactus Corners on Hay 9. To the east Coronation has a giant crown. Closer to Stettler is Rochon Sands with its giant fishing lure, a nod to nearby Buffalo Lake.

All these and more are prairie treasures quietly waiting for seekers to find them.

Photos below are property of Castor and District Museum. The museum building is in the background of this picture.

Until next month stay well, stay happy.

Chasing A Story by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #New Story #Deadlines #Dumb Mistakes

2026-04-17T00:00:00.003-06:00

Working on the second book featuring the characters in the above book. This time, it's called Voice From Her Past.

How would you feel is you received phone call from someone you hadn't heard from for twenty years. This is definitely a shock, especially when you learn the person is still living. he knew I was since he could see when I publish another book. Was nice to hear how he was doing and a bit sad to hear some things. But the cll did give me another idea for a story. Not that I need new ideas most of the time. \

Voice From Her Past is a romance with a bit of complications. The hero a pediatric surgeon has two children who are close in age. He didn't know about one of these children. Now he wants to find a way to turn this into a family/ He and the heroine, a pediatrician, were very close during their residencies, but when he abruptly left following his father's death and their several weeks apart while he took care of matters. An old girlfriend had set her eyes on him and for a time, she won. She is no longer alive. Now the pair has met again. He wants another chance. She refuses to have her heart broken again.

I'm working hard to make giving him another chance but he must earn it. Hopefully, this will hit the lists in June.

April Goals by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Dreams #April

2026-04-17T00:00:00.001-06:00

April goals are to finish my current WIP and send it off. A Voice From Her Past is the first of hopefully a series about Phone Calls out of the blue. This was triggered by a phone call I received from a friend. I hadn't heard from him for more than ten years. Catching up was fun and it's good to know he's doing well and getting older like most of us.

So this story A Voice From Her Past was triggered by this call. There is also a second one brewing in my head about another phone call from the past for a second heroine. I'm sure there will be a third call to come. The first book concerns a broken friendship and romance. The second that's brewing is about a call from a friend of the father she never knew. The third hasn't yet arisen but I'm sure it will once I've finished the first story and am planning the second.

Crazy pigs, by J.C. Kavanagh

2026-04-16T01:01:00.211-06:00

To order your copy of the award-winning Twisted Climb series, click here: https://www.amazon.ca/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=ap_rdr&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Many of my previous blogs have included variations of "Never-have-I-ever" seen/done this before. Well, here's another instance of never-have-I-ever.

How about swimming pigs? Yup, pigs really can swim. Especially if you tempt them with food. Let me explain. If you're a regular reader of my monthly blog, you'll know that me and my partner are on a trip of a lifetime - sailing our boat to the Bahamas. We sailed from Georgian Bay, Ontario (Canada), through three of the five great lakes, through the Erie Canal, the Hudson River, the IntraCoastal Waterway (ICW), with multiple crossings on the Atlantic Ocean, travelling south 'til we arrived in West Palm (Florida). With a clear and safe weather window, we sailed east to the Bahamas. We left our home port in July 2025 and arrived in the Bahamas November 22.

So... our adventure continues. Last month, we anchored near a cute little town named Staniel Cay (pronounced key) in the Exuma part of the Bahama islands. Sailor friends had told us about these swimming pigs and, combined with multiple advertisements on social media that promoted the pigs as a tourist attraction, we had to see them for ourselves. Because... aren't pigs, with their disproportionately short legs, too fat to swim?

Apparently not.

If you have food, pigs will travel.

I wasn't keen on swimming with the pigs, so we opted to bring our dinghy to shore and feed them carrots.

FEED ME !!

I'm happy I didn't swim in the crystal-clear water with these creatures. Look at those teeth! And when you pull out the carrots, all of the pigs come running toward you. All of them - 30 hungry piggies. It's like being transported to a sci-fi movie, "Planet of the Pigs." You feared for your life. Well, almost. The larger pigs were extremely aggressive, dominating the smaller pigs with shoves and angry snorts. I threw the sliced carrots into their mouths because I just knew they were going to bite the hand that fed them.

Unlike Ian's daughter, Vee, not all tourists venture into the waters or onto the beach.

So even though I didn't actually swim with the pigs, never-have-I-ever fed wild pigs on a beach.

I cannot foresee myself incorporating swimming pigs in my next novel, The Deepest Divide, part of BWL's paranormal series, but I do see black bears and strange circumstances surrounding the castle on White Otter Lake. Stay tuned...

Enjoy the Spring days and remember to tell the ones you love that you love them :)

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3) Best YA Book FINALIST at Critters Readers Poll 2022
AND
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young-at-heart

Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh

www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh

Instagram @authorjckavanagh

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

In Canada:
https://www.amazon.ca/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=ap_rdr&shoppingPortalEnabled=true
In the U.S.
https://www.amazon.com/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=ap_rdr&shoppingPortalEnabled=true&ccs_id=cfeefdea-0877-4d78-9a3b-d79d8549648a

Pacing – Pain or Pleasure by A. M.Westerling

2026-04-14T02:00:00.004-06:00

www.amwesterling.com

I am a pacing moron.

The first inkling I had of this was with my first manuscript. I was told the pacing was “irregular.” How could that be, I thought, you’ve also told me my writing is excellent and flows. I ignored it and moved on.

As editor comments came back with disconcerting regularity that my pacing was too slow, felt off, etc. etc., I began to clue in that perhaps there was something to this pacing nonsense. Even the last rejection letter I received said my pacing was “slow and stately” - which promptly brought to mind a vision of my manuscript ambling down a red carpet cloaked in ermine trimmed velvet and carrying a scepter! When the editor went on to point out that today’s readers do not want “slow and stately”, I raised the white flag. However, I was still in denial – “What do you mean, the pacing is slow? What’s wrong with long sentences!?”

But the more I delved into the matter, the more I realized I had no idea what pacing meant. Or worse, no idea how to fix it. So I did my research - I took an online course, I found websites, I looked through books on writing, I posted to my RWA loop. And finally, the bits and pieces began to come together.

First and foremost – what is it? The best definition I found is from Randy Ingermanson*: “Pacing is the amount of time you spend on each part of the story.” How simple is that – it’s how your story unfolds, how you move your characters, how you manipulate and organize the scenes for maximum emotional impact. Too slow, and you will lose your readers to boredom. Too fast and your readers will feel as if they’re on a speeding train.

What you want is the right balance and the right rhythm. And therein lies the problem for me – I’m a left brain thinker. It’s all very fine and dandy to spout definitions but how do I actually do it? How do I control the pacing? As I discovered, there are a number of practical tips and techniques:

1. Slow the pacing when you want to maximize the emotional effect ie: a love scene, or you want to emphasize something significant to the plot, or after a tense scene. Do this by writing longer sentences, longer paragraphs, longer dialogue, more description and more introspection.

2. Increase the pacing when the tension is high. Use shorter sentences or sentence fragments, active verbs, fewer adjectives and adverbs and switch POV’s. Use sense details ie: taste the blood, smell the sweat.

Other things to consider:

Shorten scenes towards the end to build tension.

Flashbacks and too much back story slow pacing – be judicious in their use.

Remove extraneous details to speed up the pace.

During an action scene, have your characters react, not think. ie: If someone’s drowning, they’re not going to be thinking about anything other than saving themselves.

Be careful with dialogue. Get to the point with the conversation, don’t start with “Hi, how are you, the weather’s nice, isn’t it.” Once you’ve reached the objective, cut to the next scene. Avoid portraying one character as a good listener while the other one conveys information – it’s boring to read.

Ensure every scene contributes to the plot. ie: always make the romance the focal point or at the very least, show the barrier to the romance.

Even the choice of words can affect the pacing ie: perspiration reads slower than sweat.

When working with scene and sequel, remember that sequels slow pacing.

The list I’ve compiled here is only the beginning. As I’ve discovered, there is no right or wrong method to pacing. However, the more you write, you better able you are to identify what you want the reader to feel and when you want them to feel it. Some writers have a natural sense for it; others find it a difficult concept to conquer. For me, it boils down to three things – practice, practice and more practice!

After working as a professional engineer for a number of years, A.M. Westerling now writes historical romance. She is currently working on her tenth manuscript for BWL Publishing. Visit her at her website: www.amwesterling.com

*www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com

Other useful websites:

www.fictionfactor.com - “Pacing” by Dr. Vicki Hinze

www.HollyLisle.com - Pacing workshop

www.ezinearticles.com - “Proper Pacing Enhances a Fiction Writer’s Work”

Creative Living

2026-04-13T03:00:00.039-06:00

Find my books here

Merika is a Greek word meaning creative spark. We all have it. It's part of what makes us human.

Creative people lead creative lives. Most of my author friends have other creative passions that sometimes fed their writing lives.

My friend Jodi is a caller for traditional New England dances.

In addition to her wonderful books, my friend Juilene is an Irish Storyteller in the oral tradition.

Friend and BWL author Eileen O'Finlan keeps a beautiful garden in her Massachusetts home.

Our readers have wonderful sparks of creativity, too. Roseanne creates beautiful table settings for her large family at holidays. Jeanie is a creative baker. David and his uncle Bill delight children with beautiful model train villages for our local historical society displays.

What are your satisfying creative pursuits, dear reader? How do you make our world more beautiful?

My Jane's Walk Revisited by Susan Calder

2026-04-12T01:00:00.420-06:00

For information on my latest novel go to Amazon

A Killer Whisky is Book #12 of the BWL Canadian Historical Mystery Series

Last year I enjoyed my Jane's Walk so much I've decided to do it again. On Saturday, May 2, I'll be leading two 1.5-hour strolls through Calgary's Balmoral neighbourhood, the main setting for my latest novel, A Killer Whisky. The novel takes place in 1918 and the focus of my walk will be the community's history. Balmoral developed during Calgary's real estate boom in the early 20th century. Many buildings of historical significance still stand and serve their original purpose, like Balmoral School, one of 19 sandstone schools build by the Calgary School Board during that time of rapid city growth.

Walk participants will learn a few oddities about the school's rooftop clock

My walks will essentially be the same as last years' with added details I've learned since then. Last May, during my introductory spiel in Balmoral Circus Park, a long time resident recalled that a home on the square used to be a Scouts Canada meeting hall. I've since confirmed this and will add the tidbit to my talk.

Former scout hall in the background

Another resident thought a former mayor of Calgary had lived in a home adjacent to the square. After the walk, she rang the doorbell and chatted with the current owners, who were aware of their home's illustrious former resident. These kinds of group participation make Jane's walks engaging and relaxed. This mayor was a colourful character, and I've researched him for the walk.

Balmoral Circus Park, the walks' beginning and end points, was recently redeveloped as a community meeting place with tables and chairs--heavy and solid so they aren't easy to steal. This year my walk description ends with an invitation to bring a lunch to eat at the tables after the morning walk or before the afternoon walk if the weather's fine. Calgary weather in early May can potentially be cold, snowy, hot, rainy, or perfect for a picnic outside. The walks will go ahead unless there's a blizzard or deluge.

Last year's group setting out on the walk from Balmoral Circus Park

Jane's Walks happen annually the first weekend of May in cities around the world. The walks are free, but you have to register. Many walks fill quickly. I originally scheduled one Balmoral Heritage Walk in the morning but, after it filled, I added a repeat walk in the afternoon. You can register here.

For more information and to see if your home city will participate, check out the general Jane's Walk website.

If you're in Calgary, have a look at this year's Calgary offerings. The organizers will be adding walks until April 26th, so keep checking until then. Last year, they ended up with over 80 events that included bike rides and a two-minute walk to a historic building to make sketches. The majority of the Jane's Walks range from easy strolls like mine to vigourous city hikes.

Something for everyone!

Me talking about the Kelly Block (formerly Hicks Block) commercial building
The Calgary organizers supply voice amplifiers - a real benefit for groups up to 40 people

Clutter, Crocus Blooms and Spring Cleaning – Barbara Wackerle Baker

2026-04-10T01:00:00.108-06:00

https://www.amazon.ca/stores/author/B0BMTM18PW

I have a huge collection of knick-knacks scattered throughout the house. And I’ve kept some possessions well past their usefulness date. The clincher was when I found three pairs of jeans from my youth tucked away below a pile of towels in the linen closet. Dammit. When I put them there, I knew one day I would fit into them again. Or maybe my daughter would wear them. Neither happened. I needed a strategy to reduce, reuse (by someone else) or discard these items.

While hunkered down during yet another Alberta cold snap (accompanied by a spring snow squall) I decided we needed a new rule in our house. Being proactive I established it. This is how it goes - every time a delivery box arrives, whoever ordered it must refill it and take it for a ride to a thrift store, recycle bin, used bookstore or the dump within 48 hours. No exceptions allowed.

The first couple of boxes were easy to fill. Who knew there were so many empty picture frames in my office closet? And the stash of baby toys under the stairwell. I know the grandkids will never miss them. Off they went to their appropriate destination. I will admit that I rifled through my husband’s boxes prior to them leaving the house just in case he included treasures I wasn’t ready to part with. And when a long skinny box arrived, (a new rod for his window washing squeegee) it hardly seemed fair, but he grinned and played along with the rule.

When the weather cleared and there were no more boxes to fill, I went to the sun-warmed south facing hillsides for a stroll. The familiar purple hue of crocus blooms sprinkled the slope, their heads bobbing in the breeze. It had to be spring now. Within hours of finding 36 blooming croci, another squall blew in. This time six inches of heavy wet snow fell. I worried about those little darlings freezing their petals off.

Days later the sun melted the snow. The croci held their heads high like drops of paint on the damp and pungent soil. I decided when I grow up, I want to be as strong and resilient as a crocus.

Now that I no longer had to worry about the well-being of the hillside's flora, and there were no more boxes to fill, I decided to get into the spring-cleaning groove. For encouragement, I did a bit of research (my new word for procrastination) to ensure I didn’t miss any tricks or tips. Here’s what I learned and my thoughts on the ideas:

slip a sock over the beater of a hand mixer to create a mini, vibrating pet hair remover for furniture. First I have to get a pet. And then, do I use ‘said’ mixer on my next batch of mashed potatoes?

clean tarnished copper pots and accessories by massaging them with ketchup and a pinch of salt – now I need to get a pet and a copper pot.

use vodka to spray and remove bathroom mold and mildew – off to the liquor store I go.

get down on hands and knees to see where dust accumulates. It apparently will give me a new perspective of how dirty my floor is. Do I really need a new perspective?

leave one cobweb in a corner of the room. Polish folklore suggests spiders bring good luck – I can totally get behind this one.

I opened all the windows and kept an eye on the sky. Mother Nature was still throwing hissy fits throughout the day.

My house is clean. It smells great. I changed from flannel to cotton sheets which probably just jinxed tomorrow’s weather forecast but … oh well. The best part about my decluttering strategy – I now think twice before ordering online and at our current rate, we’ll be clutter free in … many years. If a crocus can weather change, so can I.

Have you got a spring-cleaning tip you’d like to share?

Baker, Barbara - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)

Barbara Baker Author Page Facebook

Summer of Lies by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

What About Me? by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

Jillian of Banff XO — BWL Publishing

SHILOH’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE VIII ~ Breaking Dad by Naguib Kerba

2026-04-09T01:00:00.001-06:00

https://www.amazon.ca/Ordinary-People-Extraordinary-Naguib-Kerba/dp/0228632161

https://www.nkerba.com/blog/shilohs-excellent-adventure-breaking-dad

Outside-the-Box Promotion by J. S. Marlo

2026-04-08T01:30:00.000-06:00

Wide of the Mark

(Click here to buy)

To buy any of my books, visit

J. S. Marlo's Books

Today, I want to talk about promotion. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't receive an email titled: We want to promote your book... Want some help promoting your book... Enhance your book promotion with...

The price is never listed in the emails. You have to go on their websites and scroll to find out how much they charge, and when I say they, I mean whoever is behind the website in some obscure corner of the globe. And they usually charge a hefty sum.

There are legitimate sites that do promotion, but they all seem saturated with books, so where is an author supposed to promote?

Some do book signings, and fairs, and conferences, but these aren't always feasible options in small or remote towns.

My eleven-year-old granddaughter, who lives five minutes away from me, is a competitive swimmer and a rep team hockey player. Every season, she is required to secure sponsorships for both teams. So, this year, I decided to try something different. I sponsored her swim team!

As a sponsor, my logo is featured on the swim team website, and during local swim competitions, for the entire season (Sept 2025 to Aug 2026). I'm hoping it will pique people's curiosity, generate foot traffic on my website, and since I'm a local author, maybe new readers.

Time will tell if it's an effective promotion, but since I'm also getting a thank you photo of my swimmer, it's a win-win in my book.

Happy Reading!

Hugs!

J. S. Marlo's Website

Music Hath Charms by Eileen O'Finlan

2026-04-07T03:00:00.001-06:00

Click here for purchase information

It is well known that many authors listen to music while writing. For some, music serves as inspiration. Some use specific types of music to match the mood of their writing. Still others find that music helps their writing to flow. I have found that I fall into that last category. I can write with or without music, but I more easily get into a writing rhythm (no pun intended) while music is playing.

The type of music authors use varies widely. Stephen King, for example, is known to play loud, hard rock or heavy metal music while writing. While that type of music is definitely among my favorites, it is banished during writing sessions. It's not the volume, it's the lyrics. I can't concentrate on my own words when other words are competing. For me, writing music must be instrumental.

Classical music is among my favorite writing music, especially Mozart. Most of us have heard of the Mozart Effect. Listening to Mozart's music for 10-30 minutes is known to temporarily increase creativity. I can attest to being susceptible to it. Other classical composers are also included in my writing playlist. I especially love violin music so I'm a big fan of Joshua Bell. His CD Romance of the Violin is probably one that I play the most while writing. In fact, it's playing as I write this.

My other favorite violinist is Eileen Ivers. Her electric fiddle playing is perfect for when I need to find a faster, edgier pace to my prose.

Occasionally, I like to write to CDs of nature sounds, especially if they are mixed with instrumental music.

I don't know what it is about music that aids creativity in writing. Perhaps those who have studied the Mozart Effect can explain it. All I know is that I feel a definite difference when I write with music on in the background. My words flow more smoothly, ideas come to mind more readily, and I feel more relaxed as the music weaves it's magic spell.

A small sample of my writing music

Such a Long Journey to Perilous Facts by Debra Loughead

2026-04-06T01:00:00.001-06:00

(3) Facebook

Such a Long Journey to Perilous Facts by Debra Loughead

For pretty much my entire life I’ve considered myself a writer. Buried deep at the back of a filing cabinet in my home office, file folders contain tattered scribbler notebooks from my elementary school years, filled with the poems and stories that I dreamed up while not paying attention during math (much to my detriment in high school.) I’ve saved my scrapbooks where I pasted all of the compositions and even essays that I wrote between grades two and thirteen. Why? For posterity perhaps? Who can even say and who would ever want to read them?

Once upon a time many years back during my kidlit era, I was often invited to visit schools to talk about my books and where ideas were born. I brought along some of those elementary school scribblers and scrapbooks to illustrate to the students how long I’d been working on my writing skills, and how invested I was in turning words and sentences into books. Plus how much grit, determination and time it took to finally achieve my goals. Ten thousand hours of deliberate practice, as they say, in order to master your particular craft.

One of my earliest YA novels, Time and Again, was twenty-five years from concept in 1981 to publication in 2004. But most of those were the exhausting three-sons child-rearing days, and much of my writing life had to be put on hold. Every creative endeavor took longer.

Nevertheless, back in the 1980s and 90s, whenever I could manage to find the time, I was writing short stories, and found some brief success in submitting them to various Canadian print magazines, which sadly don’t even exist anymore. One of them was called Storyteller Magazine, a quarterly which published quite a few of my tales. One of them, a short mystery called Small Miracle, was subsequently short-listed for ‘The Great Canadian Story Contest’ in 2006.

The characters and events in that story waylaid my brain. Ideas for developing the story into an actual novel began to emerge, and I started tapping away on my keyboard in between writing middle grade and YA novels, as well as various book series and language arts materials for educational publishers. I’ve always believed in saving everything you ever write, because you never know when you might need it someday. I’m glad I saved up all those copious notes and rambling early chapters. I’m glad I never gave up, and pushed through all the self-doubt and imposter syndrome (still have it), while asking myself ‘how do all of those thriller and mystery writers manage to pump out an new novel every single year’?”

And now, well, my original mystery story Small Miracle from twenty years back is finally about to become a full-length mystery novel, Perilous Facts, next month, thanks to BWL Publishing. It’s a relief to finally see it becoming a reality, except for the fact that it isn’t easy for a writer to let go of a manuscript, since there always seems to be another word or phrase that you can tweak. But at some point you have to release it into the wider book world and hope for the best. It’s truly a leap of faith. And here’s the maddening thing—once you’ve devoted so much time and effort into developing your characters, you don’t want let go of them. Which is when you start toying with the idea of a sequel.

I’ve written plenty of book series for kids, and they were all mystery-type novels. But none of them over 30,000 words or so. I loved returning to the lives of the characters I’d created and finding brief new mysteries for them to solve. But adult novels are three times longer and even more. And there are so many more characters and sub-plots and red herrings to develop. And in my humble writerly opinion, it feels utterly daunting.

I once had an opportunity to speak with a well-known Toronto author, the late Pat Capponi, at a book event. She had just signed a copy for me of her second novel in a mystery series that was set in the Parkdale neighbourhood, an area just west of downtown Toronto. Pat had previously written a number of successful non-fiction books related to her career as an advocate for mental health and poverty issues with CAMH in Toronto, before tackling this mystery series. And she earnestly admitted to me that her second book would probably have to be the last one in the series, because she honestly found the entire process of mystery writing far harder than any other writing she’d ever attempted in her life.

I wholly agree with Pat Capponi. Except that I can’t shake off all those characters in Perilous Facts, and there are still a few storylines that I’ve left wide open just in case I might like to go back and explore them. At this writing, I’ve already made many pages of notes. And I’ve already written quite a number of pages. It’s just that I have another sort of mental-health thriller on the go right now which I really need to get back to, because I’ve already written ‘the end’ on that one, and now I have to revise it about a hundred times!

But I know for a fact that the numerous unique characters I’ve created for my first ever adult mystery novel will always be waiting in the wings to put in another appearance, and to take up space yet again in my too-busy brain.

Perilous Facts, coming in May 2026 from BWL Publishing

Opera, gyms, and shredded carrots – some of my unfavorite things by donalee Moulton

2026-04-05T02:00:00.001-06:00

Opera, gyms, and shredded carrots

I was recently interviewed about being a writer – and being a whole bunch of other things. Quick answers to fun questions. I’d like to share them with you.

Things you never want to run out of: Chocolate, sweat pants, downward dogs

Things you wish you’d never bought: White chocolate, stilettos, a gym membership

Hardest thing about being a writer: Writing
Easiest thing about being a writer: Talking about writing with other writers

Favorite foods: Miso chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, baked gnocchi with Italian sausage

Things that make you want to gag: Snails (even if you call it “escargot”), lima beans, coconut

Favorite music or song: I like music I can move to or with lyrics that move me

Music that drives you crazy: Opera (sadly)

Last best thing you ate: Cider doughnuts
Last thing you regret eating: Some waxy wrap thing with shredded carrots

The last thing you ordered online: A catio for Wiley Bob so he can safely go out in the sunshine

The last thing you regret buying: A wool winter coat that’s itchy to look at and itchy to wear

Things you always put in your books: Humor
Things you never put in your books: Blood, guts, gore (at least so far)

Favorite places you’ve been: Sable Island, Thailand, Sweden
Places you never want to go to again: Retreats with yurts

Favorite books (or genre): Charlotte’s Web, Where the Crawdad’s Sing, The Marriages Between Zones Three, Four, and Five

Books you wouldn’t buy: Horror

Best thing you’ve ever done: Written books and stories and poems and articles
Biggest mistake: Going to the opera ties with joining a gym

The nicest thing a reader said to you: One reader posted a picture of themselves lounging in the sun reading Hung Out to Die. They captioned it “Perfect afternoon.”

The craziest thing a reader said to you: Some readers see sexual tension between two characters in Hung Out to Die. I just don’t see it.

Some real-life story that made it to one of your books: I can get up off the floor without using my hands. So can one of my characters.

Something in your story that readers think is about you, but it’s not: Love of coffee. I don’t drink caffeine.

https://donaleemoulton.com/

How to Compete, When You're Not Competitive by Julie Christen

2026-04-04T00:00:00.138-06:00

Click here to order your copy today!

I was born without a competitive bone in my body. It might be some genetic defect, but I've learned to live with it. I first noticed it, probably, in grade school. You know, when we had to run relays and whatnot for gym? Mind you, I had some wheels on me in those youthful days. Must have been from racing my dog into the woods. Or perhaps my speed developed from playing kick-the-can with the neighborhood kids, and being terrified of getting caught. I wonder if all the swimming in the lake contributed, too. Regardless, I was in decent shape.

But whenever it came to any sort of track event, typically, I was found in the way back. I always started out strong, somewhere in the mix of leaders. Then, I would check my six for stragglers and feign exhaustion. I would slide back gradually, until I matched strides with the last person. I just couldn't stand how defeated they looked, trying as hard as they could, huffing and puffing, on the verge of giving up. Alone. I would not have it. Not on my watch. Sometimes they didn't want me there, but most often, having someone run next to them seemed to help them cross the finish line with a smile and a high five.

That was my win.

Back then, we didn't get "Participation" ribbons or "Showed Up" trophies, so my bedroom walls were not adorned with glossy blue and red ribbons or shiny plastic trophies with my name engraved on a plate. And I never once, in all my childhood memories, felt bad or bitter or regretful for it. Rick Springfield and The Greatest American Hero, among other posters from TEEN and Bop! magazines were decoration enough. Cheering others on comes naturally to me.

My defunct competitive gene didn't really bother me.

It does, however, make peddling my wares and "selling myself" (ugh) as an author, rather, well, difficult. Not that I don't love my books and sharing my stories. Gosh, I could talk about my stories all my live-long days with anyone willing to listen. And for Frank and the Nokotas? I will speak on their behalf and be their cheerleader until they shut the lights off.

So to be competitive without being competitive, I focus on these three things with great hope that they will carry me as far as I can go.

1. Write a really good story. That's where my heart lies.

2. Work my tail off and be a little brave when promoting online and in person.

3. Finally, be a cheerleader for others. If I can help them feel good about their successes, that's still my win.

#forevercheerleader

Click HERE to check out my website.

Go to https://www.bookswelove.com/shop to find my books and more great reads from

BWL Publishing.

Hydrants, DNA and best day ever by donalee Moulton

2026-04-01T23:00:00.001-06:00

ORDER HERE

My first Lotus Detective Agency mystery is also my first book to include a dog with a recurring role. Madoff, aptly named by his auditor owner, is a Westie. Not surprisingly, there is a West Highland Terrier Day. In honor of Madoff and all Westies, I thought I’d celebrate by sharing a few excerpts from Bind where Madoff takes centerstage.

***

Madoff, enters stage left

It’s 5:30. Madoff is not pleased with being disturbed before the sun is up but graciously agrees to go for a quick walk and a pee. Well, several pees and a lot of sniffing. Madoff is surprised how many of his kinfolk are up and about this time of day. Charlene is less surprised, and more indifferent. She still has her pajama bottoms on. If anybody says anything, she’ll pull a Woo Woo and tell them they are tulip pants. Whatever the hell they are.

Madoff takes a little extra time at the last hydrant, perhaps sensing something is up and it may be a while before he is anywhere near a tree. Charlene has both worked herself up and calmed herself down. She gives Madoff a hug. (A little too tight he thinks.)

***

Madoff is frustrated. It’s 9:45 pm. He should be in bed. Charlene should be in bed with him. She would be reading. He would be snoring. Instead, they are here in front of the computer reading emails. Again.

The emails are unsettling. Madoff knows that. He also knows it has something to do with DNA. He saw the letters on the screen. He’s heard Mama C. talking to Dora about this. He’s seen her face when those letters are spoken.

Madoff doesn’t like DNA.

***

Madoff is confused. Suddenly the women are pushing back their chairs and clearing the table. There is a flurry of activity. Madoff was enjoying an after-gelato nap. He follows everyone into the kitchen. Perhaps the guests are leaving. Perhaps he will get to bed on time tonight.

Nope. The kettle is back on, the plate of pastries refreshed, and another plate and cup taken out of the cupboard. In the melee to clear the clutter, Lexie scrapes some leftovers onto a plate. Absently she puts the plate on the floor. Madoff nonchalantly walks toward the plate. Best day ever.

Madoff exits stage right

BWL New Releases April 1st

2026-04-01T01:00:00.005-06:00

https://www.amazon.com/Watched-Eden-Monroe

Strong, handsome male lead Shay McGregor is a man on the move, riding the rails in beautiful Eastern Canada during the Great Depression. Widow Rietta Nicholson is finally free from her marriage to a bad man and now struggling to run the family farm on her own. Then she’s introduced to Shay, a tall, dark stranger new in town and looking for work. There is immediate chemistry between the widow and the hired man, but murder and mayhem await on Cherry Orchard Farm. Stalked by an unseen assailant, neither Rietta nor Shay is safe in this wild ride of romantic suspense. Can they even survive the night?

Editorial Review by S. Peters Davis

The story begins in 1932, when Rietta Nicholson finds out her husband’s car, with him

inside, was discovered submerged in the Kennebecasis River. The realism of the

characters and their daily lives throughout the story held my attention to every detail.

The fear, anger, love, labor, etc., throughout their relationships, presented a colorful,

suspenseful mystery, and a thrilling ending. An unputdownable read.

https://49thshelf.com/Contributors/M/Mossop-Charles

In 1792, Ned Creel, a bondservant in a wealthy household, is forced to flee after an ill-advised dalliance with the daughter of the house. Arriving in London, he survives as a pickpocket and petty criminal, but is quickly caught up in the anti-monarchist republican movement inspired by the American and French Revolutions. Driven by his own desire for revenge against the landed gentry, Creel is used and manipulated by the revolutionaries, and drawn ever further into a web of blackmail, deception, espionage, and murder, reaching into the very heart of the Royal Navy as it wages war with France. He attempts to extricate himself, but instead is dragged more deeply into the mire by his own hatred and greed. Infiltrated by double-agents, the republican conspirators are relentlessly pursued by the British Government and the First Lord of the Admiralty, and Creel finally realizes he must leave England if he hopes to escape the hangman.

Editorial Review, By JD Shipton

Mossop delivers. The characters, the settings, the vernacular, the intrigue, all expertly worked together in this thoroughly enjoyable period piece. I’ve read the big names of Imperial British period fiction, and I’m here to tell you that Mossop should be counted among them.

Out of money and out of luck, Emily arrives in Castor Alberta during a raging blizzard. With no place to go, she finds refuge in an abandoned restaurant on the corner of Main Street and 51 Avenue. Jessie’s Café has a long and storied past, but all Emily is interested in is getting out of the storm. However, the spirit of the building and its ghosts have other things in mind for their visitor. Cold and starving, Emily slips through time to find a much friendlier reality than the one currently surrounding her.

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/p/night-at-the-legislature

EDITORIAL REVIEW by Victoria Chatham

Jessie’s Café is a real place in Castor, located in Central Alberta. The building today is in a sad state and looks as though it could collapse at any moment. The infamous shed in Bell’s novel is still there in all its shabby glory. Jessie’s Café changed hands numerous times over the years, giving Bell a great cast of characters to work with. She has also woven in historical events that present-day citizens of Castor are sure to remember.

The thread that binds it all together is the story of Emily, her dog Miley, and Ruairi, an Irishman from whom we learn the traditions of May Day and something of the Irish troubles. That these three are time travellers adds a paranormal aspect to the story. Anyone who enjoys stories involving time travel, mystical happenings, and historical events will enjoy this book. I recommend it as a highly entertaining read.

https://www.bookswelove.com/authors

Some prophecies are meant to save the world. Hers might destroy it. Adelina wakes in a land of dying magic, her name the last piece of herself the gods didn’t take. Hunted for a prophecy she doesn't understand, Adelina is thrust into a kingdom teetering on ruin—caught between the only friend who doesn’t fear her, and a king who would burn the world to control her. But she’s not the only one fate has marked. Scattered across the realm are others—strangers bound to her prophecy by forces unnamed. A haunted warrior fleeing a blood-soaked lineage. An assassin. An orphan. A witch torn between duty and her own destructive nature. As their paths converge, so too does a reckoning that will reshape the world—or end it. None of them wants a part in the prophecy binding them. Least of all Adelina. But the longer she walks this strange realm of twisted magic and mad kings, the clearer it becomes: there is no escaping destiny. And what begins as one girl’s search for freedom and identity soon threatens to unravel the veil between two realms.

EDITORIAL REVIEW by Victoria Chatham

The landscape of Ava Vienne’s The Prophecy of Ash and Ikarus is populated by magical and mystical beings, from searchers to assassins and witches. The protagonist, Adelina, falls from one world into another, where her arrival prompts a price on her head for whoever finds her first.

We see Adelina’s growth along the way as she deals with betrayals and bloody battles. But is she strong enough to deal with Ikarus, her nemesis and will she ever return to her home? Fans of fantasy are sure to find this an engrossing read.

https://www.amazon.com/Woke-Dead-Pine-County-Book-ebook/dp/B0GSCKCG1W?ref_=ast_author_mpb

Sergeant CJ Jensen is adjusting to life as a new homeowner in Pine County when the Sheriff’s Office receives a call about a bar patron who never woke up after a night of sleeping it off in a local establishment’s back room. In the process of death notifications, CJ and Pam learn of his connection to one of the most notorious criminal Pine County families, a drug smuggling operation and his own past life transgressions. How does a Beaver Dam fit into this mystery and will Riley be successful at another undercover assignment?

Praise for Skidded and Skunked – “I never expected the twists and turns in this book. It seems D.L Dixen has seen some things in her former life before becoming an author. I couldn’t put it down! Super easy read that will keep you reading and waiting for what will come next!” – J.R.

Editorial Review by S. Peters Davis
Book number 13 in the Pine County Mystery Series drew me along until the very end, including the Epilogue. CJ Jensen, Pam Ryan, Sandi Maki, Riley Sanders, Floyd Swenson, and the rest of the characters, established or new to the series, made quite a stirring story of murder, drugs, domestic abuse, money laundering, and more, with the sheriff’s department’s personal lives included as well. The main characters drive the adventure throughout, with more interesting facts about each introduced along the way. An addictive series to read, I’m so looking forward to book number 14.

Life is a Bown of Cherries by Eden Monroe

2026-03-30T01:00:00.004-06:00

https://www.amazon.ca/stores/author/B07531KPL4

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorEdenMonroe/

https://edenmonroeauthor.com

https://books2read.com/Watched

“Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries” or so says the song (lyrics by Lew Brown and music by Ray Henderson).

Well … sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t, and the latter is all too true on the ill-fated Cherry Orchard farm — the setting for the romantic suspense novel, WATCHED:

“Strong, handsome male lead Shay McGregor is a man on the move, riding the rails in beautiful Eastern Canada during the Great Depression.

Widow Rietta Nicholson is finally free from her marriage to a bad man and now struggling to run the family farm on her own. Then she’s introduced to Shay, a tall, dark stranger new in town and looking for work.

There is immediate chemistry between the widow and the hired man, but murder and mayhem await on Cherry Orchard Farm. Stalked by an unseen assailant, neither Rietta nor Shay is safe in this wild ride of romantic suspense. Can they even survive the night?”

Incidentally, Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries was written in 1931 at the onset of the Great Depression, and the setting for WATCHED is 1932.

In any event, be they sour or sweet, metaphor or not, cherries are an enormously popular fruit and my favourite by the way. But there’s so much more to cherries than just their visual appeal. According to harryanddavid.com, cherries are actually a “fleshy drupe,” a stone fruit that is soft on the outside with a rock hard pit waiting inside:

“Coming from the genus prunus, the sweet cherry goes by Prunus avium, meaning ‘wild cherry.’ This species is also known as a sweet cherry, bird cherry, or gean. The sour variety is known as Prunus cerasus.

“Some 1,200 varieties of cherries exist worldwide, but you really only need to know the major ones. The Bing cherry is America’s most popular type of sweet cherry; the Montmorency is the most popular sour cherry.”

And perhaps the most showy of all are maraschino cherries, a perennial favourite.

“Marasca is a type of cherry originating from Dalmatia, and the largest yields come from the city of Zadar. These cherries are a variety of classic Morello cherries. They are small in size and have a dark red to blackish color. The flavors are floral, acidic, and slightly bitter due to the stone in the center of the fruit.” (tasteatlas.com)

Fresh cherries of any kind are always in demand in (a short) season, and it is estimated (harryanddavid.com) that in the United States alone, an average of 2.6 pounds of them are consumed per person in a variety of forms every year. In the United States’ Washington State, Oregon and California are among the top sweet cherry producers (90%) and Michigan accounts for 74% of sour cherry production, (harryanddavid.com). However the king of cherry-producing (and consuming) countries is Turkey.

Ahhh, there’s nothing better than a bowl of cherries, unless it’s two bowls of cherries, and it’s Bing for me. I could eat my weight in them.

Late season Bing cherries

The wonderful news is that cherries, aside from being succulently delicious, are also nutritional. “Cherries are a superfood and are rich in antioxidants, fiber, minerals, and vitamins A, C and K. They also have anti-inflammatory properties that may help combat gout, arthritis, diabetes, and cancer.” (harryanddavid.com)

The pits are well, the pits, and not edible. “No!” says harryanddavid.com. “Cherry pits contain trace amounts of amygdalin, a chemical compound that the body converts to the poison cyanide. However, you don’t need to truly worry if you swallow the pit whole, as the chewing process is what triggers the chemical conversion. Still, chomp on enough of them, and the risk goes up. So just, don’t.”

Not just a treat for the palate, cherries can be found in countless products, including skin care according to healthshots.com:

“Looking for ways to make your skin glow naturally? Start by including cherries in your beauty routine. There are many cherry benefits when it comes to your skin health. These small-sized fruits are packed with essential nutrients such as vitamins A, C, and K, as well as potent antioxidants like anthocyanins, which can address a multitude of skin concerns, from combatting free radical damage to promoting collagen production. So, if you’re dealing with acne, looking for natural glow, or just want to keep your skin looking youthful, the humble cherry might be the answer you’ve been searching for…”

While most cultivated cherries are derived from ancestral stock, wild cherries still abound throughout the northern hemisphere, and some suggest perhaps they are more nutrient dense than their cultivar cousins. And if wild cherries are good for us, they are also a high-energy food for common foragers such as deer, foxes, bears, squirrels and raccoons, and dozens of bird species. They also spread the seeds.

Says motherearthnews.com about eating wild cherries: “Cherry fruits generally mature in late summer, so if you’re hiking around these bushes in late summer, there will invariably be fruit on the bush. Some will be ripe enough to taste. Most people — like my hiking students — can look at the fruit, and guess that it is edible.

“However, I strongly urge you to never assume any wild berry or plant is edible simply because you subjectively think “it looks edible.” That can be a quick way to get sick, or die. Never eat any wild plant if you haven’t positively identified it as an edible species.”

Cherry blossoms in general are gorgeous, and I’ve always been partial to those of wild cherries — especially the chokecherry.

Chokecherry blossoms

And for anyone, like myself, who wondered why ornamental cherry blossom trees don’t bear cherries: “Simply put, cherry trees are fruit trees; cherry blossom trees are flowering trees.” (harryanddavid.com)

And tart cherries? Says prevention.com: “‘Tart cherry juice became a hot topic in 2023 as the main ingredient in the viral ‘sleepy girl mocktail.’ But the benefits of tart cherry juice may go beyond helping you get a good night’s rest. ‘I often recommend tart cherry juice, especially for individuals looking to improve recovery after exercise or manage inflammation,’ says Caroline Susie, R.D., L.D., Spokesperson for the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics.”

Speaking of cherries, we can’t help but wonder if George Washington actually chopped down his family’s cherry tree. He did not, according to mountvernon.org:

“This iconic story about the value of honesty was invented by one of Washington’s first biographers, a traveling minister and bookseller named Mason Locke Weems.”

Finally on the subject of cherries, festivals abound worldwide in honour of this luscious fruit. Which begs the question, what location is considered the cherry blossom capital of the world? According to cherryblossom.com, that honour belongs to beautiful Macon, Georgia (March 20-29, 2026):

“Each March, Macon becomes a pink, cotton-spun paradise as hundred of thousands of Yoshino cherry trees bloom in all their glory…”

And the celebration of cherries continues.

March 20-29, 2026

Each March, Macon becomes a pink, cotton-spun paradise as hundreds of thousands of Yoshino cherry trees bloom in all their glory. Originally a sleepy southern town, Macon has now become a bustling center of beauty and international friendship.

Report from a Living Fossil

2026-03-29T02:00:00.099-06:00

"I don't want to be working in ballet, or opera, or things where it's like, 'Hey, keep this thing alive, even though, like no one cares about this anymore.'," Chalamet said... "All respect to all the ballet and opera people out there."

This young actor just let us all know that although he works as an actor, in a craft that's been around, in western tradition, since before the Greeks, he doesn't have much sense of history. He doesn't have respect for opera or ballet, either, despite his quickly tacked on semi-retraction.

What he said saddened me, as I grew up enjoying both art forms and with a healthy respect and regard for these somewhat hoary artistic expressions. I confess that I have cried buckets of tears over both, exactly like any devotee of afternoon soaps or B movies. I have DVDs of opera and ballets and have sat before them, blissed out, for hours. I take offense exactly because I am a fan, but also because I know about the years of training, discipline, and self-sacrifice that goes into the making of these stellar singers and dancers, who bravely shoulder the work required by these jewels of western tradition.

Ballet and opera grew out of entertainments which once thrilled rich and poor alike. This is particularly true in the case of opera. When people in the street whistled and sang Mozart's tunes, the Maestro noted in his letters that he knew he had a hit. Without copyright laws, sadly, he never got the royalties, of which modern pop singers are assured.

Of course, what Chalamet said is a fairly typical young person's take on two artistic traditions which have been around a good deal longer than he has. Still, I must acknowledge that I have been unable to convince any number of descendants and/or friends to become fans. My opera friends are all old, like me; it's sad but true.

I just went to a movie theater and watched the Metropolitan Opera's Tristan and Isolde, with fabulous singers. I've heard the "greatest hits" from the opera since I was child, but I have never before experienced the five hours it takes. When I was a kid, Wagner was exciting, loud, colorful, a gigantic heart-thumping, aural fireworks display. The Ring saga--yes, the same Northern myth that inspired Tolkien--The Ring saga was all that, better than Marvel comics, complete with a world-cleansing apocalypse at the end.

When I became an adult, musically I turned back, before Beethoven, toward the Baroque, toward Bach, Mozart, Telemann and Vivaldi, and from there into polyphonic church and folk music. Wagner became a rather over-the-top self-promoter with fascistic (more-than) tendencies. His personal life, his opinions, his music, seemed pompous, exhaustingly patriarchal. Then, nearly extinct being that I now am, I sat through those five hours of Tristan & Isolde, along with white-haired others of my kind.

I can't say I went full circle. I was, however, bowled over by the totality of the work, despite the fact that the opera is a downer, ending in a round-robin of death. Tristan and Isolde begin as haters, because he's killed her husband to be and then fooled her into saving his life. Isolde asks her servant to give them both a draught of poison, so that she drink with Tristan and fool him into killing himself. Bonus! She will end her personal grief by dying. Instead, the faithful servant, assigned a heart-breaking task, gives them both a love potion, and they fall into a blazing passion. This briefly changes the flow of events, but ends by destroying them and everyone around them, exactly as in Isolde's savage, original intention.

This tale is one of human dysfunction in the extreme, but don't pretend it couldn't happen. Just look at the self-destructive madness in the world around you! The lyrics, drenched in Nietzchean philosophy and Wagner's sex addiction, are sauced over with sweeping music--self-referential, yet endlessly evolving and swelling. It's voluptuous, ecstatic, and it left me in a fog of reflection and emotion for days. Yes, opera may be dying, but with my fuses well and truly blown by attending this one, I am still going to call it ART.

~~Juliet Waldron

Adding Sensory Details to your Story By Connie Vines #BWL Blog, #Perfume #CustomPerfumes #Creating the Perfect Fragrance, #RoseGarden

2026-03-28T02:30:00.024-06:00

In past posts, I've shared many of my interests: my family, gardening, pets (past, present), my nomadic childhood, and my "careers". However, I seldom mention my background in perfuming.

Of course, sensory details (all of the senses) are important--a critical key in the "realisum" of your story.

I am not a chemist. However, I am a trained fragrance consultant.

This is a science. A client's pH level is determined, and fragrances are selected based on this (and, of course, personal preferences).

An author (including a fiction writer) is heavily involved in research and personal experiences. Some good; some negative.

In Gumbo Ya Ya (anthology), my story is set in New Orleans, Louisiana.

My first story involves a newly created perfume — an unexpectedly developed "Love Potion". 😉💖

While I love the premise and the characters in my story, love potions (thankfully) are not real.

Taste, touch, and smell are grounding elements of any good story. A reader is familiar with the taste/scent of a cup of coffee or tea. The scent of freshly cut hay, the sound of a dog barking. The scent of a sea breeze.

Or, the fragrances wafting from a rose garden.

Connie's garden photo, 2023

Connie's garden roses 2023

Connie's Rose Garden 2023

Roses are my favorite flowers in my garden.

The fragrance of a rose is a complex symphony of volatile organic compounds, a blend of a sweet, floral base accented by notes of fruit, spice, and even earthy undertones.

Long ago, men of rank had their mattresses filled with dried rose petals.

Rose notes may vary considerably from one to another, depending on where the rose was grown and who extracted its essence.

To quote, Sawyer, Odorgraphia, 1892

It has been noticed that previous to a storm, or atmospheric disturbance, the odor of the rose seems strangely increased; this may be by reason of the oxidizing influence of the ozone in the atmosphere, or it may be that our perception faculties are sharpened at such a moment.

Around the world, rose essence has been used to flavor both sweet and savory dishes, and it was an important ingredient in early ginger ale recipes.

Simple Recipe for Rose Hip Tea:

4 (8 g) Rose Hubuscuis tea bags.

4 cups hot water

4 cups cranberry juice, chilled

1 lemon, sliced.

Add tea bags to hot water; steep for 10 mins. Add remaining ingredients and chill. Add ice to chilled glasses.

Excerpt |Teaser "Love Potion #9" Gumbo Ya Ya by Connie Vines

“Don’t shake your finger at me, Simone Basso. I know what I’m doing.” Persia Richmond said, filling a half-ounce bottle with perfume. The warm scent of spice, magnolia, mimosa, and a hint of something unnamed and mysterious wafted across the narrow processing room.

The fragrance was New Orleans; culture at its most upscale moments and Mardi Gras at its naughtiest! A smile of supreme joy curved her mouth, and success warmed her soul.

Persia had dreamt of creating a signature fragrance since her grandpapa began her tutelage in perfuming.

“I’ve done warned you and warned you about messing with love potions!”

“You worry too much, Simone,” she replied, rearranging her test tubes. “This is a perfume. Nothing more, nothing less.“

Simone’s brightly turbaned head caught Louisiana sunlight streaming through the perfumery’s large display window as she rested her hands on her ample hips. “Menterie. It’s a love potion.”

“I’ve extracted essences from bayou plants before, and you didn’t object.”

“You be using flowers then. Not that root! That root be from a voodoo love-plant!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Simone. There’s no such thing as a voodoo love-plant!” Persia glanced at the shavings of the rust-colored root she’d placed in a circular dish for processing. “This root is almost identical to cinnamon bark.”

“Then why you not be using cinnamon bark?”

Persia cast a cautionary look toward the showroom doorway. Mindful of the clients, Persia lowered her voice. “You know as well as I that every major perfuming house used cinnamon bark or vanilla as a fragrance base last year. Do you want me branded as a knock-off perfumer? If that happens, not only will we lose the shop, but I won’t even be able to land a job developing scented toilet paper.”

Simone shivered when Persia pressed on. “’This is our breakout fragrance. “That’s why it’s so important that this perfume be unique, beyond comparison. Love Potion #9 is going to blow away the competition.”

“Sugar-cakes,” Simone said, eyeing the glass bottle and its shimmering contents with misgivings. “It’s gonna do more than that! You have no idea what that root can do to folks.”

Dabbing a piece of cotton with perfume, Persia slipped it inside her bra and tucked the fragrance sample into her purse. “The ad campaign breaks next month. We can argue about this tomorrow. Tonight I plan to get a head start on our local promo.”

“Bayou country means nothing but trouble for you. If your grandpapa was still alive—“

“I don’t want to talk about grandpapa or the bayou right now,” she snapped, “Chardonnay sets trends in this city,” she reminded Simone. “What better way to showcase our product than for me to model it at her party?”

After being escorted into the Dubois’s foyer by the butler, her host turned from a cluster of his guests to greet her.

“Persia,” Jean-Paul exclaimed, kissing her briefly on each cheek in old Creole fashion. “So good of you to come. Ummm, you smell delightful, my dear.”

She smiled. “Grandpapa always said perfume is like a rousing concerto. The bouquet is made up of notes: the top note, the first impression, the mid note piques one’s curiosity, and finally, the base note. The final note is the fragrance’s lasting impression.”

“It’s good to see that you are carrying on his work,” Jean-Paul said, cupping her elbow and leading her toward the ballroom. “He would be so proud of you.”

“I’ve tried hard to fulfill his dreams, Jean-Paul.”

“I know you have. And you will. Your grandpapa always said you were a natural for the industry. I believe he said you have the nose for the fragrance.”

“I should. He spent a lifetime tutoring me. I could probably identify more fragrances than there are plants in the bayou.”

Jean-Paul stopped as they wandered into the grand ballroom filled with New Orleans polite society. He drew her fingertips to his lips. “I must remain here to greet the guests, so I’ll turn you over to my wonderful wife,” he added. “I know how much you hate being away from the city. Even so, Persia, don’t stay away so long.”

“I promise.” Jean-Paul was her grandfather’s dearest friend, and for a moment, as the warmth of his love surrounded her, it was as if her grandfather was near. The disquiet she felt at being so close to the bayou faded away as she turned toward Chardonnay.

Chardonnay gave Persia a friendly hug and looped her arm in hers. Persia always admired Chardonnay’s thick black hair and expressive green eyes. It wasn’t envy, but rather an appreciation of the woman’s ability to cause a ripple of excitement without ever saying a word. “I was so worried after you and that Cajun broke up,” she said, “but it’s so good to see you’ve recovered. And now, look at you! Your shop is all the talk of New Orleans. Tell me what magic you have worked with those flowers of yours this time?”

Before Persia could get past describing the perfume’s signature bottle, the melodious bells chimed, signaling dinner.

To purchase Gumbo Ya Ya and my other novels, visit the links below.

"Lynx" Rodeo Romance, Book 1, is also available in audiobook via Amazon.com

Happy Reading!

Connie Vines

Please post your favorite flower and perfume in the comments section.

Shop:

https://www.bookswelove.com

My novels are also available at online book sellers :)

Including:

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Connie-Vines/author/B004C7W6PE?