Through Dancing Poppies: the blog tour starts 4th May!

The book is out–so what’s next?
Promotion! Spreading the word!
I often talk about my books on Twitter/X, or occasionally on FB or Instagram, and often on Pinterest, but sometimes you need a bit more, so I’ve signed up with the lovely Lynsey at Instagram’s  ReadingBetweenTheLines and she has organised (thank you Lynsey!) a blog tour for Through Dancing Poppies!
What is a blog tour? I hear you cry mumble.
It’s where a bunch of people who are avid readers are bullied persuaded to read a book and review it.  No honestly, I didn’t have to bribe any of them, they brought it on themselves…
It starts on Monday 4th of May and runs all week. You will be able to find the reviews/book mentions on Instagram or on the individual blogs:
or if you want it the easy way:

Reading Between The Lines:

About the book:

Through Dancing Poppies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 3: an intriguing cosy mystery set in the swinging 1960s

Poppy Bell is a teenage singing sensation about to ‘hit the big time’ and newly engaged to a man old enough to be her father. Everyone says she’s a gold digger. But then…

Dee Gascoigne, now private investigator working for the law firm of Montague Montague, meets Poppy a couple of times and can’t help but notice she is a very talented musician who is young, naive and on the brink of something incredible. But she is also surrounded by people who know exactly what they are doing, they’ve done this kind of thing before, are used to the spotlight and the glare of media sensationalism, and know how to present the perfect image to grow a very public career. Then there’s a near miss in a car park, and suddenly Dee has an intense feeling of danger lurking in the shadows. But who is the target? Poppy or her new fiancé, wealthy entrepreneur Teddy Reynolds?

Reviewers of A Wreath Of Lilies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 2 said:
‘Every character becomes someone you know, someone you grow to like or dislike as Allan draws you in, not as a spectator, but as a participator…who becomes so enthralled…that you actually cannot help but try and solve this plot before anyone else does. Mystery, intrigue, suspense, romance, and nostalgia. This book has it all!’
‘another great cosy mystery which we’re so used to with this author… the description of the town and characters was so vivid it was like I was part of the community’
‘Set in the 60s, the novel is rich in period detail with fabulous descriptions of the homes and the clothing, and a great ‘ear’ for the dialogue of the time…A cracking book, peopled with memorable characters’
So remember the dates: 4th-10th May – I’ll see you there!
***

A little more about Through Dancing Poppies: release date: 24th April.

Only two weeks until Through Dancing Poppies launches: it’s book 3 in my 1960s-era murder mystery series the Miss Gascoigne mysteries. In case you’ve missed me banging on about it for yonks, here’s a quick recap:

Through Dancing Poppies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 3: an intriguing cosy mystery set in the swinging 1960s

Poppy Bell is a teenage singing sensation about to ‘hit the big time’ and newly engaged to a man old enough to be her father. Everyone says she’s a gold digger. But then…

Dee Gascoigne, now a fully-fledged—or nearly fully-fledged—private investigator working for the law firm of Montague Montague, meets Poppy a couple of times and can’t help but notice she is a very talented musician who is young, naive and on the brink of something incredible. But she is also surrounded by people who know exactly what they are doing, they’ve done this kind of thing before, are used to the spotlight and the glare of media sensationalism, and know how to present the perfect image to grow a very public career. Then there’s a near miss in a car park, and suddenly Dee has an intense feeling of danger lurking in the shadows. But who is the target? Poppy or her new fiancé, wealthy entrepreneur Teddy Reynolds?

Research for this book mainly consists of remembering my early childhood, and trawling through old photos, or watching Juke Box Jury on YouTube!

Who is Dee Gascoigne? Well, she is the baby born in book 4 of my 1930s Dottie Manderson mystery series. She used to be a modern languages teacher at a posh girls’ school, but was sacked because the school board objected to her leaving her husband with a view to divorcing him. Yes, honestly, that kind of thing really happened. A divorced or separated woman was genuinely treated badly by many people who saw her as immoral or dangerous or subversive in some way.

Almost by accident, Dee falls into an investigating role when she lets her curiosity get the better of her in a village where she is convalescing. She solves the case, and at the end of book one, she is taken on by a family friend’s law firm as a fully fledged professional private investigator. A job she is very well suited to, in spite of her former mentor’s attempt to woo her back to the school.

It’s been great fun writing this book, and I’m already getting ideas together for book 4 of the series, called All That Glitters. As you no doubt guessed, that’s going to be set at Christmastime.

Meanwhile, here’s a short extract for Through Dancing Poppies:

She was about to tell her brother Rob how glad she was that he was with her, but immediately she was distracted by a couple a short way ahead of them, standing under a streetlight. An older man with, she presumed, his daughter. The man appeared angry about something, and the girl, arms folded across her chest, was glancing about her anxiously.

Dee was on the point of asking in her best schoolmarm voice, if there was something the matter, but the girl turned back to glance in their direction. Only then did Dee realise it was none other than the school’s former pupil and new media sweetheart, Poppy Bell.

‘Poppy?’ Dee said, and the girl fixed a look on Dee and Rob, wide-eyed, fearful. ‘Whatever is the matter, dear?’ Dee asked, falling into her role of responsible teacher.

Dee was aware of Rob looking in surprise first at Dee then at the young woman Dee addressed, but Dee fixed her attention on Poppy and the man with her.

‘Didn’t I meet you recently?’ Poppy asked, a frown creasing her brow as she tried to recall.

‘That’s right. I was coming out of the Holly Tree restaurant in London with Miss Evans two weeks ago, just as you were going in. Is everything all right?’

‘I don’t know…’ Poppy glanced at her companion, who turned to look at Dee and Rob. Dee realised he was angry. He said,

‘Some bloody fool just tried to run me down as I got out of my car. Luckily, I leapt back smartly enough, or I’d have been done for. The bastard—excuse my language—the devil wasn’t even looking where he was going. Probably drunk. Had to have been doing fifty, and in a car park too! Anyway, it shook me up a bit, that’s all. No harm done.’ He brushed his suit jacket down as if he’d been rolled in the dirt.

Dee’s hand went to her mouth in horror. Instinctively she glanced around her, as did her brother, but it was too dark to see if anyone was lurking, and they certainly didn’t spot any cars on the move.

‘Rotter’s already gone. Scared of getting into trouble, I don’t doubt. Anyway… Excuse me, where are my manners. I’m Teddy Reynolds. Poppy and I are—well, we’ve just got engaged to be married as a matter of fact.’

Dee, confirmed in her judgement of his appearance on the television, calculated that he was old enough—easily old enough—to be the girl’s father, nevertheless remembered to smile, and said,

‘Oh my! Congratulations! How exciting.’

He put a proprietary arm about the girl’s waist, pulling her close to his side. Poppy smiled up at him, leaning into the crook of his arm, but casting an anxious glance about her from time to time. Further away, another couple had just got out of their car, whilst more cars were pulling in at the gate.

‘Is this your old teacher, lovely?’ Teddy Reynolds asked Poppy.

Dee didn’t care for the old part, especially from him. She said,

‘That’s right. I used to teach here, though I never had Poppy in any of my classes. I taught modern languages: German and French, basically. Now I’m just a visitor like everyone else.’

‘Poppy said she’d met you recently. And this gentleman is your husband, I assume?’ Reynolds said, turning to hold out a hand to Rob. Rob shook the hand, but added,

‘No, no, I’m just her brother. Just come along for the fun of it.’

‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you both. I do hope you’ll join us at our party tomorrow evening. It’s at my sister’s place. She’s married to Poppy’s manager, my good friend Ivor Norton. You may have heard of my sister. Valerie Blackshaw? Anyway, we’d be delighted if you could both join us. It starts at eight o’clock, it’s not anything formal, no need to ‘dress’, haha. I’ll just jot the address down for you.’ He reached into his pocket for his wallet and drew out a small white card. ‘Do say you can make it; everyone from dinner this evening is invited.’

‘Of course, we’d be thrilled,’ Rob told him.

Valerie Blackshaw? My goodness, she is my absolute favourite actress! She was just incredible in A Fatal Redemption, and in The Younger Sister,’ Dee couldn’t help bursting out, though she knew it was probably silly of her. But Teddy smiled indulgently and she could see he was pleased. Putting away what appeared to be a gold-plated fountain pen, he handed her the card.

‘Well, you’ll be able to tell her that yourself tomorrow. She’ll be delighted to meet you. Miss Evans from the school will be there too, and others you’ll know. But thank you both for your kind concern this evening. Not everyone would bother. And now, look here, Poppy my lovely, we need to get a move on, or you’ll be late.’

‘Right,’ said the girl, calm enough now to slip back into the usual bored tones of a teenager. ‘See you,’ she added to Dee and Rob, then turned on her heel and walked away.

***

 

 

Torn between three loves

As you might be aware, I’m putting the final touches to my book Through Dancing Poppies. It’s the third book in the Miss Gascoigne mystery series, set in the 1960s in the UK, and the release date for this book is 24th April. Not long now!!!

As one book nears its end–production-wise, anyway–other books call their siren song. It’s so tempting. Because when you’ve worked on the same book for one year, two years, more, you can start to feel a bit like someone waiting for the last guest to leave at a party. Just, go, already! I mean, you love them to bits, and will definitely invite them again, but right at this moment, you just need them to leave. That’s what it’s like as you near the end of a book you’ve worked on, in this case, for a little over eighteen months.

So the idea of another book to work on is very tempting.

But which one? Something totally new, like my roughly planned out Ain’t Misbehavin’ a kind of caper set in 1931, featuring a couple of clever con-artists, a mother and daughter who scam people out of a ton of money and are always a step ahead of the law.

Or the next Dottie book – book 9 of the series which is due out in December and still needs final revisions and proofreading? This book is called The Rough Rude Sea, and its appeal is very strong–a ship-based setting travelling between the Canary Islands and the Channel Islands in the summer of 1935. Here’s a teeny extract from the beginning. To set the scene, Dottie and William are about to return home from their honeymoon (spoiler! Now you’ve got to read the first 8 books! 😀 ) but they turn up at the docks to board the ship and…

‘This is not what I was expecting.’ Dottie Hardy gazed mournfully up at the small steamship moored a little ahead of them. The nameplate attached to the bow claimed this ship to be the SS Icarus. Dottie felt this did not bode well.
William paid the taxi driver and turned. He frowned as he looked at the ship. ‘Must be some kind of mistake.’
There was an official of some sort standing at the dockside, by the roped gangplank that led onto the ship. He held a clipboard and had a red pencil in his hand. William went over. The young man looked up, gave William an uninterested look and said, boredom oozing from every pore, ‘Name?’
‘Hardy,’ said William without even thinking. Then he said, ‘Hang on, what happened to the SS Tigris?’
The man yawned, and scratched his chin. William was aware of an urge to shake him. William shoved his hands in his pocket just in case.
‘The company’s gone bust. Three days ago, in fact. This vessel has been courteously provided to bring the first class passengers back to British shores, with no expense to yourself, I might add, all costs have been generously covered by SeaSteamers. Was that William Hardy? And er…’ He paused and looked Dottie up and down in a wolfish manner that had William shoving his free hand even deeper into his pockets, ‘I suppose that is the delightful Mrs Hardy?’
‘You suppose correctly,’ William growled, and thrust his tickets and the passports at the man.
The man perused them with minimum attention and handed them back. ‘Seems fine. Cabin 27, middle deck. Dinner’s at eight, in the main saloon bar and dining-room, top deck. No need to dress.’ He yawned again and turned away, all interest in the passengers lost.
William turned to find Dottie was coming up behind him, the taxi driver bringing their luggage from the back of his car.
‘What’s going on? Has our ship been delayed? Or is it moored up somewhere else?’
William, hardly believing it himself, explained.
She looked at the little ship in disbelief. ‘This is it?’
‘Yup.’
‘Really? It looks so small. You’ll never get five hundred people and crew on that.’
‘Nope. He says it’s just for the first-class passengers. I’m guessing there aren’t many of those.’
She stared at the vessel for a full minute. ‘And are we happy to go on board this little thing?’

OR… I could have a stab at the more contemporary book Dirty Work, which is book 1 of the new Families Can Be Murder trilogy, a spin-off from Friendship Can Be Murder, my books Criss Cross, Cross Check and Check Mate, which feature posh Cressida and her determination to get rid of annoying or nasty people. She confides all to her diary, so it’s not exactly a murder ‘mystery’. In the new trilogy, it’s her husband Matt who is keeping the diary and confessing everything on paper:

In the front of my wife’s old diaries, there’s always some romantic, sweet dedication, full of love and promises of devotion. I did one for her, years ago, but her first husband Thomas, did loads of them, and they were all flowery and romantic, the kind of thing posh blokes always do, and in really expensive diaries, too, you know the sort of thing, designer stationery. She still keeps them in a drawer of her bedside table and she gets them out now and again and sits there all emotional and lost in the past, and… It makes me wonder if she loved Thomas (she never ever called him Tom) more than me. I get a bit jealous when I think of him. Which isn’t fair, I know, but I can’t help it, I just do…
Oh yes. So now I’ve got my own diary, and all it says in the front is ‘99p from Last Chance Book Bargains: your last chance to buy ’em cheap!’ Really cheap too, there’s a calendar in the front, and there’s two 27th Februaries. Is that for some kind of late Groundhog Day, or in case I need a do-over?
But instead of sitting in comfort in the sunroom at home like she does, here I am, stuck in the cab of my van, writing a quick sneaky note as I wait to find out what my dad is getting up to.
‘Matt,’ he said to me one day last week, ‘Could you give us a lift to the New Mills Business Park? I’ve arranged to see someone about something next Friday afternoon, ’bout twoish.’
Well, I don’t mind doing things for my dad—we get on really well, he’s not as young as he was, and he’s always been there for me, even when I was in prison—but he was acting dead cagey, so naturally I was onto him.
‘What’s it about?’ I asked him.
He just tapped the side of his nose. ‘No need for you to get involved, mate. I just need a lift, and don’t for the life of you go mentioning it to your mother.’
Nothing sets off alarm bells like my dad telling me he’s up to something I can’t tell my mum. What’s the old bugger getting up to now? At first I thought it might be some kind of birthday surprise he’s got planned for her. But to be honest, I doubt he even remembers when her birthday is, after only forty-nine years of wedded bliss. It’s like the pin-code on her phone. He needed to use her phone, and it was locked. So he asked her for the code, and she (very cleverly as it turns out) said, ‘Just tap in the code. It’s our wedding date.’
So obviously he was completely stumped. Not big on remembering anniversaries or birthdays, or… just anything really.

So tempting, all these writing/rewriting options. And then there’s a new series idea I’ve been thinking about for several years, The Runaway Policeman. I’ll just leave that with you.

***

 

A Right Cozy Historical Crime, a deliciously diverse anthology of cozy mysteries that span centuries and continents: the blog tour!

Welcome to the A Right Cozy Historical Crime anthology blog tour!
About A Right Cozy Historical Crime:

Step into the comforting fog of time with A Right Cozy Historical Crime, a deliciously diverse anthology of cozy mysteries that span centuries and continents. From ancient alleys to a Victorian medical school, American towns to Scottish glens, these tales take you on a gentle stroll through history – where murder hides behind lace curtains and secrets linger in candlelit corridors. Perfect for fans of clever sleuths, rich historical detail, and mysteries solved with brains and life-experience and observational skills.

The  anthology includes cozy mysteries written by these contributing authors:

Marti M. McNair                 Olga Wojtas

Sheena Macleod                  Loretta Mullholland

Lexie Conyngham                Barbara Stevenson

Meg Woodward                    Dianna Sinovic

Gareth Williams                    Lisa Harkrader

Sheila Dené Lawrence       Penny Hutson

Lisabeth Early

Wendy H Jones (author and compiler)

 My Review:

The is a collection of very varied work – some set ‘now’ and some set int he past, with a variety of settings. This kind of collection is a great way for authors to showcase their work, and many of the stories I read would make excellent ‘prequels’ to a full-blown series of novels.

There is a range of styles here, too, with more formal language suited to the 1920s or 1940s, to flowery descriptive language, and stories where the style is chatty, informal, immersive.

All the stories are good mystery stories with either amateur detectives or professional investigators, but I’d like to call out some special ones that I really enjoyed: Dianna Sinovic’s Curtain Call, Red Heart Summer by Sheila Dene LawrenceLisabeth Early’s Second Sight and Loretta Mulholland’s story Cave Mouth Crime. You’ve got to read those! And of course, the story Cadavers and Conspiracies by the collection compiler Wendy H Jones.

I highly recommend this book!

About Wendy H Jones: 

International Award Winning Author Wendy H. Jones lives in Scotland, and her police procedural series featuring DI Shona McKenzie are set.Wendy has led a varied and adventurous life. Her love for adventure led to her joining the Royal Navy to undertake nurse training. After six years in the Navy she joined the Army where she served as an Officer for a further 17 years.

Killer’s Countdown was her first novel and the first book in the Shona McKenzie Mysteries. Killer’s Crew won the Books Go Social Book of the Year 2017. The eighth book in the series, Killer’s Curse, was released in 2023.

The Dagger’s Curse, the first book in The Fergus and Flora Mysteries, was a finalist in the Woman Alive Magazine Readers Choice Award Book of the Year.

Turning to humorous crime the Cass Claymore Investigates series was born.

Wendy is also a highly successful marketer and is currently in the process of rereleasing her completely updated marketing book Marketing Matters. This will be part of the Writing Matters Series following the release of Motivation Matters. She is also the author of the Bertie the Buffalo picture book and associated soft toy and colouring book.

Wendy is delighted to be one of the authors in two anthologies aimed at empowering women – The Power of Why, and Women Win Against All Odds. She is proud to be the President of the Scottish Association of Writers and is the host of The Writing and Marketing Show podcast, a writing and marketing coach. and CEO of Writing Matters online writing school, Authorpreneur Accelerator Academy.

LINKS TO BUY 

PAPERBACK

KINDLE  

Author links:

WENDY H JONES 

LEXIE CONYNHAM

OLGA WOJTAS 

SHEILA DENE LAWRENCE  

MARTI M MCNAIR 

LISABETH EARLEY 

GARETH WILLIAMS 

DIANNA SINOVIC

LISA HARKRADER 

SHEENA MACLEOD 

 See these other blogs below  for more info and reviews!

#ARIGHTCOZYHISTORICALCRIME

The Roughest Rudest Sea – first draft blues

How I think I look as I contemplate my next scene.

So as I mentioned a few weeks ago, I’m knee-deep in the first draft of my new Dottie Manderson mystery, The Rough Rude Sea. It’s book nine of the series and we join Dottie and William on their journey home–by ship, of course–from their honeymoon. I suppose by rights, I should change the series to the Dottie Hardy mysteries – but let’s leave that on one side for now…

I’m wrestling with characters, trying to piece together the ‘action’, everything is at the juggling stage and the ‘What did I say his name was?’ stage. But at least I’ve got ten months to sort it all out. That shouldn’t be too difficult. I think. Or…?

Here’s sneak-peek of the opening of the story; I hope you are intrigued:

August 1935. Gran Canaria.

With hindsight, as she lay dying on the hard floor of the dining-room, Katherine Henshawe realised she should have expected this to happen. She should have been on her guard. She’d been a fool, she saw that now. If she’d had any doubts about the severity of her situation, the gently spreading pool of blood on the floor in front of her gave her a good indication. She tried to call for help, but of course it was pointless. No one came.

‘Save your last few breaths,’ her killer—for she knew now that was who this smiling person was—told her with a wink. ‘Not that it’ll do you much good. Not long now, as I expect you can see for yourself. And with you out of the way, I shall be very rich. Very rich indeed. I hope you enjoyed your holiday!’

At the door, there was a slight pause, then a merry chuckle and the door closed again.

No one would find her in time now. She knew too that she would never see her home in Berkshire again. Katherine Henshawe spent her final moments praying. Not for a miracle. Not for the prolongation of her life, or even for forgiveness and the chance for an eternal life in Heaven.

From the corner of her eye, she could just make out the crucifix on the wall. With her last breath, she prayed that her killer would suffer horribly for what they had done to her.

 

This book will be released in December, as I mentioned, and eBook pre-orders are available. There will also be a paperback version, and a large print, and even a hardback edition as I know some people really like those. Stay tuned for more updates!

***

New year, new books

Most of us had to get back to work this week, and that includes writers! I’m at the creative stage, ideas flowing, crazy ones or a bit more sensible, I’m making a huge amount of notes, then just as likely, crossing them out the next day, only to come back a day after that and think, ‘Yes, actually, I like that idea, it could work really well.’

I’m not much of a planner but I’m doing my level best. I’ve been looking ahead, and trying to plan a work schedule.

I’m intending to spend the next five weeks drafting my new Dottie book – hopefully that will be out in December. That will be book 9 of the series, and I’m calling it The Rough Rude Sea. Dottie and William return by steamship from their honeymoon. Obviously it’s not going to be smooth sailing. (sorry about the pun).

Then, mid-February, it will be all change, and I’ll be in editing mode as I tidy up and polish Through Dancing Poppies, the third book in the Miss Gascoigne mysteries series.

Then…

…at some point I’ve got to crowbar in rewrites and polishing etc of Dirty Work, book 1 in the new trilogy Families Can Be Murder. This is a spin-off of my original trilogy Friendship Can be Murder, book 1 Criss Cross was first published in 2012. This time it’s Matt, not Cressida, writing the diary entries and confessing all.

Apparently I’m also going on holiday… I think I might need it!

***

 

‘So, where do you get your ideas?’

I know I’ve written on this topic a couple of times before, but it’s one of those questions that never goes away.

‘Where do you get your ideas?’

This is one of the first questions people usually ask me – and I’m pretty sure it happens to other writers all the time. It kind of makes me want to groan, because it’s next to impossible to give a sincere and considered answer to this question without boring the pants off everyone by talking for an hour. The short, somewhat trite answer might be, ‘Everywhere!’

But if we really want to answer the question, it takes a minute or two longer. Because really there’s no single answer. Ideas don’t come from one unique, unvarying source. Nor do they come in the same way each time. Anything from the world seen or unseen can come to my attention and lead me to think, ‘Hmm, that’s interesting…’

Inspiration, which is what ideas really are, comes from everywhere and nowhere. A snatch of song, a news story, a little patch of colour on a card in the paint section of the DIY store, the turn of a person’s head making you think just for one split second it’s someone else, someone from another time, someone who should be dead. An unexpected view of yourself in a shop window, that odd moment before you recognise yourself, that brief second when you think, slightly puzzled, ‘I know you.’

An overheard snatch of conversation, ‘Don’t lose my hat, man, my hat’s my identity,’ and ‘Of course she never did find out who’d sent it.’ A film, a book, a taste, a smell, a memory, a story your mother told you – you’ve known her all your life yet this is the first time she’s ever mentioned this particular incident.

I have based two full-length stories on dreams, three short stories and one novel on songs, a poem on a piece of art, a novel based on a documentary I saw on TV about ancient tapestries, (Opus Anglicanum: Latin for English work), and another about the Reformation. I’ve written a short story about an arrowhead, and another about ancestral bones and the relevance they might have to a Neolithic man, about a couple of  trips to Skara Brae in the Orkneys.

I’ve written a whole series of stories about the fact that all too often people think it’s okay to take the law into their own hands. (I’m looking at you Cressida, MC of the Friendship Can Be Murder trilogy!) I’ve written about work situations, about hopes and plans for the future, about family tree research, about children, and pets, and parents. About love. About the absence of love. About Faith. About fear. About books I read as a child. And books I read as an adult. I’ve written about identity and what it means to be who I am, who you are. I’ve written about death – loads.

I saw a gorgeous man on the bus many years ago and wrote a story about him, (The Ice King – still not ‘available’, but if you’re intrigued, here’s a link to a short bit about him.) I’ve read news reports and been inspired to create my own story around some of those. I’ve written in hospital having just given birth, in hospital awaiting treatment for cancer, at work during my lunchbreak when I felt so depressed I just wanted to run away and hide. I’ve written when sitting on the loo, sitting in the garden, on holiday, in bed with flu, and in cafes all over Britain, Europe and Australia. I’ve written on buses and trains and planes. I’ve written when someone I cared about has died. I’ve even got inspiration from sitting down at my desk every day and just making myself write. Sometimes I’ve written page upon page of ‘I don’t know what to write’, like lines that we had to do at school, and still nothing has come to me and I’ve gone away desperate, feeling that the well has not only dried up, but was only a mirage to begin with.

If you are a writer, you squirrel away in the eccentric filing cabinet known as your brain EVERY single thing that you ever experience, and a bit like doing a jigsaw puzzle or creating a patchwork quilt, you keep trying pieces together every which way until something fits and makes a pleasing and meaningful picture. There’s not really a pattern to it, there’s not a system or a set of regulations to follow. You just do it.

That’s where I get my ideas.

***

Quick catch-up!

Writing.

It’s one of those things that everyone you meet says they could do too if they only had the time. Maybe they are right. but I’ve always felt that if something means a lot to you, you find the time, you make the time, you figure out your priorities and squeeze your passion into every crack and crevice you can.

I can remember grabbing time on my commute to work, or during lunch breaks, in the evenings when my better half was watching something on TV that didn’t interest me, or just any spare moment or snatched ten minutes I could find. Ten minutes, several times a week can give you one or two thousand words, times that by 52 weeks in a year, and you’ve got a novel.

These days, I’m officially old, and I no longer work outside the home, so I can spend quite a bit of time every day (not as much as you’d think, there are always distractions…) writing or thinking about what I’ve just written or what I might write next.

My latest book, Midnight, the Stars, and You: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 8, came out in September. And in December, I have two books being released, The Cousins, a sort-of mystery, a stand-alone novel, is one of them, the other is the German language edition of my book A Wreath of Lilies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 2. The German title is Ein Kranz aus Lilien.

I’ve already started looking ahead – I’m always doing that – and have plans to publish Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 3 Through Dancing Poppies in maybe April next year.

Then after that… well, so many decisions to make, so many books to write…

We’ve just come back from holiday. In fact, I’ve been lucky enough to have a couple of holidays this year and they had elements in common: a seaside location, and a large number of diverse people in a small area. This is exactly the kind of thing that breeds ideas in my head. I made COPIOUS notes, did a ton of people-watching, took hundreds of photos, and now I’m sitting at my desk thinking, ‘Hmm… what if…?’

It’s too soon to make any announcements, but something is definitely brewing…

 

cover image by Agalaya.

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