Just in case you’ve forgotten, here’s a great site that lists all my books except the last one, Moonstruck and Murderous. It also tells a bit about me, your friendly neighborhood cozy mystery writer. You’ll enjoy this fun and informational site. Please visit: https://www.bookseriesinorder.com/blanche-day-manos/
January can be a slow month and if we aren’t careful, the blahs can get us down. So, I’m livening it up a bit with another contest next week. Watch for it. It’ll be fun.
Authors tend to have favorite passages of the books they write. Here’s one of my favorites from Moonstruck and Murderous. Enjoy!
The countryside passed in a blur as I sped toward the Carver mansion. At last, the turn-off to the house came in sight. I yanked the steering wheel. The car slid, then righted itself. Braking at the end of the drive, I leaned my head on the wheel, breathed a prayer, and tried to think of what I should do next. Take the envelope with me? Tell them I had it but they wouldn’t get it until Ulysses was safe with me? I pushed my purse under the front seat and slammed out of the car. If they couldn’t see the envelope, at least they couldn’t take it away from me. Maybe I’d have a few minutes to get Ulysses into the car.
The mansion loomed before me, imposing and grim. Why had I ever thought it was beautiful? It was a large, forbidding pile of bricks that housed people who would stop at nothing to achieve their aim.
I started up the walk, then paused, as a portion of sanity returned. If I entered the house, I would be at the mercy of those who waited there. So would Ulysses. Not a good move. I would make them come to me.
Anger settled down from being hot and consuming into a cold, deadly knot in my stomach. I refused to be a victim. This person or persons, as the case might be, were evil. I would not let them get the upper hand. I would not go to them, obedient and frightened. Returning to my car, I leaned inside and pressed the horn. I kept pressing it, filling the deadly quiet with sound.
The voice behind me was loud. “Quit that infernal noise.”
I jumped and whirled around. No one was there. The person had spoken from the shelter of the trees.
“Give me that paper,” it said.
I took a deep breath to steady my voice. “You’ve got to be crazy. Give me my dog first.”
“The paper,” it said.
I put my hand on the car’s door handle. “No.”
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