Oh, Just Do It Already!

by Guest Blogger Evelyn David

We love mysteries. It's why we got into writing them in the first place. And we confess we love a nice touch of romance in our whodunnits because, well, why not? But here's what we don't like, be it in mysteries, television, or for that matter, real life. We hate, and yes that's a strong word, but we hate the concept that the only interesting part of a relationship is the chase.

Yep, we love good, crisp, flirty banter in a relationship. Think Tracy and Hepburn, Cary Grant and just about any actress, Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Both the man and woman are smart, sassy, and instantly attracted and immediately repelled by the other. The build-up of a relationship captures our imagination, teaches us about the characters, and most of all, it's fun. But what happens next?

All too often writers drag out this stage of a relationship ad nauseum. The "will they-won't they" grows stale after a few years or a few books. At some point, it's not "will they-won't they," but "who cares." If the couple can't commit to each other and also can't quit each other, that tells us something about their emotional maturity. At some point, the unresolved adolescent longing in a 30-something man or woman isn't attractive, it's worrisome.

Many fiction writers have bought lock, stock, and barrel into the Moonlighting Curse. The underlying premise of this myth is that the hugely popular television show Moonlighting tanked immediately upon the coupling of protagonists Dave and Maddie. One kiss, after two years of protracted verbal foreplay, and the show died. The twosome lost all ability to form clever quips; doomed to be assigned to the subset of boring married couples who sleep in separate bedrooms. Who'd want to watch that?

In a very thoughtful essay, Laura Akers points out that it's really an indictment of writers that they are stuck in the junior high school paradigm of romantic relationships. "…the idea that there is no one capable of producing a series [or book] in which two people solve crimes, fall in love, move in, argue about where to spend Thanksgiving, and all the other things that we, as human beings, not only experience but pursue almost above all else, is patently ridiculous. Are all…writers single and have never learned that that first (real) kiss is only the beginning of the best part of what it is to be in love, and in a relationship? That a life together--especially one punctuated by gun fights, serial killers’ riddles, and the like—is the real adventure? Can it really be that hard to make an actual relationship both genuine and compelling?"

And so we have accepted the challenge of defeating the Moonlighting Curse with our Brianna Sullivan Mysteries and the story of our psychic heroine Brianna and her small town police detective Cooper Jackson. We've decided that we want to write about grownups in our mysteries. The focus is still on the who- and why-dunnit, but their relationship moves forward with each book. The mystery's the thing, but the romance is real. We're not talking about Fifty Shades of Grey kind of real. Our mysteries are cozies and sex and violence take place off-the-page. But we are determined that our couples take charge of their romantic lives as fearlessly as they do their sleuthing. No hocus-pocus involved, but poof, the Moonlighting Curse is broken.

If you're already a Brianna Sullivan fan, the ninth book has just been published – Summer Lightning in Lottawatah. It's available in e-book format at Amazon, BN.com, and Smashwords.
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Evelyn David is the pseudonym for Marian Edelman Borden and Rhonda Dossett. Marian lives in New York and is the author of eleven nonfiction books on a wide variety of topics ranging from veterans benefits to playgroups for toddlers! Rhonda lives in Muskogee, Oklahoma, is the director of the coal program for the state, and in her spare time enjoys imagining and writing funny, scary mysteries. Marian and Rhonda write their mystery series via the internet. While many fans who attend mystery conventions have now chatted with both halves of Evelyn David, Marian and Rhonda have yet to meet in person.

Please check out Evelyn's website at www.evelyndavid.com for information about Evelyn David's appearance schedule and writing projects.

Have a good one! Really?

by guest blogger Heath P. Boice

I swear.  The next time I'm going to say it.  I really am.

The next time a cashier, or anyone says to me, "Have a good one."  I'm going to respond, "I already do."

Or maybe I’ll say, "What about two, three, and four?" 

I’ll admit it.  I’m a sucker for good customer service.  This might account for the fact that one of my favorite places on earth is Walt Disney World, the mecca of service “magic.”  But even though I realize that I cannot live in customer service nirvana, is it too much to ask a store’s cashier to say, “Thank you, please come again.”  Or perhaps, even more outrageous, “Have a nice day.”  Instead, these platitudes have been bastardized into, “Have a good one.”  Why is this? 

In today’s world of social networking, texting, and email, perhaps, “Have a good one,” is just about as personal as it gets.  I suppose that compared with “LOL!” (laugh out loud) or, “TTYL,” (talk to you later) “Have a good one” is a veritable feast of hospitality.  But is this the new standard that we want to condone?  I don’t.
Maybe it’s not the statement as much as the overwhelmingly bland way it is commonly delivered.  Never have I heard a cashier at the supermarket say excitedly, “Thanks so much.  Have a good one!!!!”  or the kid at the drive through window shout, “Don’t forget to have a good one, sir!”  It’s always a monotonous drone, almost as an afterthought as I walk away, “have a good one.”  As if Eeyore were working in retail.  Why does this irk me so much?  Perhaps I need a life.

I suppose if there was a law against, “Have a good one,” something worse would probably take its place.  Maybe, “Get the hell away, now.”  Or, “I hate my job.” Or worse, “Did you really need those fries, tubby?”

I guess that there are much more important issues to get annoyed about.  I realize, at the end of the day, that there are more significant things to consider in the world.  Like the use of “at the end of the day.”   I cringe every time I hear it.  Clearly I DO need to get a life.

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A college administrator for 20 years, and former resident of the New Jersey shore, author Heath P. Boice combines both in his new series of cozy mysteries.  The first book in the Ocean Grove Mysteries is "Missing by the Midway."  The second book, Buried By The Boardwalk, will be out this fall.  For more information, check out www.101mysteries.com

You can have a copy of my book ... just not this one

By guest blogger E.J. Copperman

I don't often deny my daughter, now a sophomore in college, much of anything I can afford to give her. For one thing, she doesn't want all that much, and for another, she's my daughter. So she was surprised when I told her she couldn't have the copy of my new book I had just handed her for inspection.

"But I haven't read this one yet," she protested. "Why won't you let me read it?"

I told her I was perfectly happy for her to read OLD HAUNTS, the third in the Haunted Guesthouse mystery series. In fact, i'd have been disappointed if she didn't want to read it, as I truly value her opinion (especially since she loved the first two books in the series--the girl has good taste). But I remained adamant; she couldn't have that book.

I have a few rules I apply to myself. I always skip the second step when climbing stairs (don't ask me why--I'm pretty sure even I don't understand that one). I always put on my socks before anything else in the morning. (TMI?) I always cross off the "Down" clues on the New York Times crossword puzzle as I decipher the answers, but not the "Across" ones.

And I always--always--keep the first copy of one of my books for myself, and nobody else.

There's something about that first copy, the one the publisher sends an author before the number of copies for "promotional purposes" they send because it's stipulated in the contract we sign. It's a reminder that this was a dream job, something I aspired to for years and years before gathering the nerve to even try it. It brings me back to the first copy of the first book I wrote, the way I felt when I was holding it in my hands for the first time. That's a sensation that doesn't get old. It represents effort and luck and joy and hope and a thousand other things I can't necessarily articulate.

And it's a feeling that doesn't ever go away.

So on a shelf in my office is the first copy I received of each of my books, in any edition and all configurations (large print, etc.). As the shelf becomes more crowded, it becomes a source of pride and memory. It's the kind of thing that strokes an author's ego for the right reason; it's not about money (because the money actually would take up less room on the shelf, even in singles), it's not about "fame," however incongruous a term that is for what we do. It's not about being lucky that an editor liked your writing and took the time to read your book when she could have read someone else's. It's not about beating out another writer for a space on that shelf; competition in this business is a ridiculous concept; we're all in it together.

Seeing those books, those first books, is a reminder that it took hard work to get there, and that other people helped along the way. It's a feeling of real gratitude and pride, and I look at that shelf every once in a while when things are going other than great, to remind myself that maybe I don't have it so bad after all.

So I'm sorry, honey, but you can't have that book. Instead, I'll pre-order one from a bookseller and have it sent to your college P.O. box.

You don't ever turn away an interested reader. I'm not crazy.
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 E.J. Copperman is the author of the Haunted Guesthouse mystery series, which continues Feb. 7 (Hey, that's tomorrow!) with OLD HAUNTS.

The ghosts haunting Alison Kerby's Jersey Shore guesthouse are sad. Maxie wants to know who murdered her ex-husband, and Paul pines for his still-living almost-fiancee. The only one who isn't missing her ex is Alison-because The Swine just arrived on her doorstep...

Available Tuesday from:

Amazon ~ Kindle ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Nook ~ Books A Million ~ Indigo ~ The Book Depository ~ iTunes ~ Independent (US) Bookstores

You can find out more about E.J. at www.ejcopperman.com
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Can I PLEASE just speak to a human being?

by guest blogger Nancy J. Cohen

How often have you tried to reach customer service on the telephone only to be transported through multiple levels of automated replies? Not only does this take up your time, but it raises your aggravation factor tenfold. 

“Just give me a person,” you shout into the phone to no avail.

When that doesn’t work, you punch the “O” on your keypad. Instead of bringing up the operator, you get a message that says, “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize that response.” And the litany of automated choices begins again.

A while ago, I came across a post online that mentioned a website called http://gethuman.com. This useful site lists companies with instructions on how to bypass their telephone tree.

A miracle!

Of course, every time I want to call someone, I’m not going to look up this website, scroll down to the company, and read the instructions. Too much rigmarole. But the site does give some general tips that may be useful. For example, repeatedly say “Customer Service” or “Representative”, and you might get connected to a live person. Or push the zero key. As mentioned above, though, this may not get you the operator, in which case the automated choices are read to you again.

It’s just so annoying when we have to talk to a machine these days instead of a person. Trying to get hold of someone in your doctor’s office is probably the worst. You end up leaving a message, and if you’re lucky, you might get a call back by dinner time. The cable company? Forget it. We’d finally reached tech service and scheduled an appointment. The night before, we received an automated phone call that said the problem in the area had been fixed and our appointment was canceled. What problem in the area? I had to call up all over again and reschedule, then wait for two more automated confirmation phone calls.

Give me back the old days when real people answered the telephone.
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Nancy J. Cohen is an award-winning author who writes romance and mysteries. Her popular Bad Hair Day series features hairdresser Marla Shore, who solves crimes with wit and style under the sultry Florida sun. Here latest entry in the series is Shear Murder:  Who knew weddings could be murder?  Hairstylist Marla Shore is weeks away from becoming a bride herself when she walks down the aisle as a bridesmaid at her friend Jill’s ceremony. Things take a turn for the worse when the matron of honor ends up dead, the cake knife in her chest. Now what will they use to cut the cake? BUY NOW!

Follow Nancy on her Social Networks: Website   ~ Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads

Leave a comment during Nancy’s blog tour and enter to win a free signed book.
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Surely that's WORTH a giant cookie!

by guest blogger Janet Bolin

My mystery-writing career began when someone lost a shoe.

I found it.

To the consternation of the woman walking with me, I shoved the shoe into my briefcase and took it home.

The next morning, I took the shoe to work and called my doctor.

Are you still with me? Oh, sorry, that was rather a large . . . um . . . step.

Okay, here’s how the conversation went, sort of.

Me: “Have any of your patients reported losing an orthotic?”
Receptionist: “No.”

Me: “Because I found one. It matches my orthotic.”

Receptionist: “Is it yours?”

Me: “No. The sticker on the bottom of mine says Bolin. The sticker on the bottom of hers is torn, but these are the letters I can read. T-E-N-A.”

Receptionist: “First or last name?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Silence.

Me: (getting desperate—as anyone who has ever purchased orthotics knows, they are hideously expensive.) “It’s in a blue suede woman’s shoe, size 8M.”

More silence. Then, with a great deal of doubt, “I’ll see if we have any patients matching that.” Click. Dial tone.

My sense of triumph lasted at least an hour. But day after day passed, and I didn’t hear from the doctor’s office. Some poor woman had lost an expensive item, and could be hobbling around on very sore feet. On one very sore foot.

What could have possibly happened to her? Maybe something terrible.  
  
I started to write about a woman setting out to find the owner of a lost shoe.  I scribbled and scribbled (actually, I keyed the words, but scribbling sounds much more dramatic) and couldn’t stop.

Finally, I received a call. “I hear you found my shoe.”

Tena showed up at my office to collect her shoe and her expensive orthotic. She brought me a HUGE chocolate chip cookie in the shape of a high-heeled shoe. “The people in my office are calling you the Shoe Goddess,” she said.

Breaking off and gobbling chunks of cookie, the people in my office probably started thinking of me as the Chocolate Chip Cookie Goddess.

We all lived happily ever after.

All of us, that is, except for the woman in my story who lost a shoe . . .

That was my first manuscript, the one that lives in the proverbial drawer. But I was hooked on writing mysteries.

What about you? Did you ever do something strange that propelled you into accomplishing something you’d always wanted to try?
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The first book in Janet Bolin’s Threadville Mystery series is Dire Threads. Visit her website or talk to her on Facebook and/or Twitter.  The second book in the series is Threaded for Trouble, arriving in stores June 5, 2012, and is now available for pre-order.

Dire Threads:  Amazon ~ Kindle   ~ Barnes & Noble / Nook   ~  Indigo   ~  Books A Million   ~  The Book Depository    ~  Independent (US) Bookstores

Threaded For Trouble:  Amazon   ~  Barnes & Noble   ~  The Book Depository   ~   Books A Million  ~ Independent (US) Bookstores

CHARGE IT!

by Guest Blogger Sylvia May

When Lorna asked if I’d like to guest blog on Pet Peeve Thursday, I replied with a resounding yes. Trouble was, I couldn’t think of any Pet Peeves. Not one thing to complain about. Aren’t I lucky?

Nevertheless, I settled into our comfy chair with my laptop, figuring inspiration would hit eventually. Turning on the computer, I was greeted with a message telling me there were nine minutes of power left on my battery. Oh yeah, I’d forgotten to plug it in the night before. Annoyed with myself, I scrambled out of the chair to get the charger and realized that I did have a Pet Peeve to write about.

A few mornings ago, after virtuously dragging myself out of bed at 6:00, I donned my running clothes, grabbed my cute little iPod Nano (which has on it an invigorating and motivating playlist) and went outside. Did my stretches, put in the earbuds and turned on my Nano. Except it wouldn’t turn on! You guessed it; I’d forgotten to charge it.

That same day (same day!) I was out running errands when my cell phone rang. “Hi Sylvia,” my sister began. “I wanted to ask you—” and then the phone died. Really? Had I forgotten to charge that too? (And this one is crucial, since our cell phone is our only phone.)

You’d think I would have learned my lesson. Not so. The other night I climbed into bed with my iPad, which I primarily use as my e-Reader. I was eager to devour a few more chapters of the wonderful book, Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese, before nodding off. Alas, before I’d gotten through a couple of pages, the battery died. Then I remembered that my daughter, who was visiting us for a few days, had been playing Fruit Ninjas on my iPad, frantically trying to beat her own score of 564, an activity that had apparently run the power down.

I am obviously dependent on my portable electronic devices—for work, for reading, for play. But I seem to forget that they only work when they’re charged!

So now, I’m trying to make it a habit to plug everything in before going to bed. Well, I plug in my iPad in the morning, since I actually use it in bed. I’ve been at it for three days. So far, so good—everything is fully charged when I set out to use it.

Have you run out of power recently?
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Sylvia May’s emotionally charged debut novel, The Unraveling of Abby Settel, was released two weeks ago. A women’s fiction novel, it is a story of mid-life reinvention and the importance of friends. Watch the trailer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNZvTaIOIZE), visit her website (www.sylviamay.com) and her blog (http://sylviamaysblog.blogspot.com/).

The Long And Short Of It

by guest blogger Jeff Cohen

News came last week that Tom Cruise may (or may not) have optioned one of Lee Child's Jack Reacher books and may (or may not) be planning on playing the ex-military cop and bedder of many (temporarily) uniformed women in a movie. And as with most such news (as when Katherine Heigl was cast as Stephanie Plum), the immediate reaction from fans of the book--who have been casting the movie in their heads for years--was negative. Not Cruise! they blogged, tweeted, posted and probably carved into cave walls. Anybody but Cruise!

Now personally, I don't really care who plays Jack Reacher in a movie. I've read many of Lee Child's books, and think he is remarkably good at what he does. I also think Lee is a very nice man and a mensch, and he should take as much of Tom Cruise's money as he can get and buy himself another great sports car (at least) and a season box at Yankee Stadium, or another house, or something. He deserves every dime.

And I can understand how fans of a book series can get themselves into a snit when someone is cast in the film of said book series who doesn't fit their concept of the character. If I am ever lucky enough to have a film production company option (or better, buy!) one of my novels for a film, I will have a more personal stake in the casting, but if I cash the (hopefully large) check, I'll have absolutely no say in the matter, as any author short of J.K. Rowling can tell you. I get it: fans read the books, they picture the character--in whom they are sometimes VERY emotionally invested--a certain way, and they are disappointed when the actor(s) involved aren't in that mode. It's upsetting.

But the sticking point here, from what I've read online, is not centered on whether Mr. Cruise can handle the role from an acting standpoint. He's actually a very good actor with a lot of range (See A Few Good Men and then Risky Business and then Rain Man). Sure, his public persona is sort of nuts, but find me a centered, normal actor whose name ISN'T Tom Hanks. Yeah, that's what I mean. They're all nuts.

No, the problem here isn't Cruise's acting. It's not even his nuttiness, as far as I can tell. The problem here is that Tom Cruise is short.

Before you start tuning up, yes, I'm aware that Jack Reacher is described as very tall and powerfully built in the books. Guess what? Bernie Rhodenbarr isn't described as looking much like Whoopi Goldberg in Lawrence Block's books, either. Moses? Not a thing like Charlton Heston. Benjamin Braddock couldn't be described as looking less like Dustin Hoffman if he were described as looking like Whoopi Goldberg. Movies adapt books; they don't simply transcribe them. And actors, bless  'em, are supposed to be able to make a role their own.

But I don't think that's what the problem is here. I think the problem is that people don't like short leading men. In fact, people are not comfortable generally with short men. I can tell you this because, at five-foot-five, I have had a decent amount of experience with how people treat short men. They think we're adorable and have about as much respect for us as they do for fat people and cricket players. Short, fat, cricket players? You don't want to know.

Because it is no longer politically correct to make fun of people based on race, religion or gender (and it shouldn't be, just to be clear), there are few groups left that everyone can agree to mock. Overweight people? Clearly they have no self control and deserve our scorn. Short men? Never grew up, did they? Not to be taken seriously. Members of Congress? Okay. You've got me there.

I can't stand New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, and I live in his state, so you can take my word for it. But I will NEVER make a fat joke about Christie. That moves us off the point--he should be mocked for his terrible policies, not his weight.

Tom Cruise? Maybe he'd make a horrendous Jack Reacher. It's entirely possible. But don't tell me it's because he's short.
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Jeff Cohen writes mysteries about people who, come to think of it, are often below average height.  Jeff's very good friend E.J. Copperman has a new book out, the 2nd Haunted Guesthouse Mystery AN UNINVITED GHOST. 

What am I doing in the kitchen when I'm not ready to cook?

by Guest Blogger Tonya Thomas

I don't know about you, but I'm either losing my mind or I just don't pay attention to the things going on in my life.

More than once a day I'll head into my kitchen from some other part of my house and stand there and look around wondering what the heck I'm doing there.

Okay, I'll admit it. I have a lot on my mind.  In this day and age--wouldn't you?  Worrying about gasoline prices, encroaching inflation and where the heck am I going to get my next idea for my current story ... why wouldn't I be preoccupied by something or other.

In general, writers are just plain weird. I mean, think of it. We live in fantasy worlds and get paid for it. (Nice, when it actually happens, I might add. And it doesn't happen nearly often enough.)
I primarily write short stories about women in complicated relationships. I have better things to think about than does the washer need fabric softener or should I use fat-free or lite salad dressing on my salad?

But these lapses of memory do concern me.  Am I really losing it or am I really just wrapped up in other things?  I don't know -- and until I try to drive to the grocery store and end up three counties over ... maybe I'll pretend to be like Scarlett O'Hara and worry about it . . . tomorrow.

So tell me, do you experience these same lapses and what do you think (or do) about them?

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Tonya Thomas is an award-winning author who currently writes women's fiction.  You can find her stories available for Kindle, Nook, Smashwords and other e readers.  Her box set, THE EDGE AND I, contains five stories for the price of three.  You can find her at her website/blog, on Facebook, and Twitter (@TonyaThomas1), or visit her Amazon store.

It's Not Just A Big Day . . .

By guest blogger Kelly McClymer

Thanks for inviting me to share a pet peeve for Pet Peeve Thursday, Lorna! I have so many (for example, you cannot crumble a piece of paper without a lot of effort, but you can crumple it easily enough: why do writers not know this?!?).

But my big pet peeve right now revolves around weddings. I love to attend weddings, but not because of the big fancy cake or band or dancing (well, okay, I do like the dancing, even though I dance like Elaine on Seinfeld). No, I love the way family and friends circle the couple and support the big step into marriage. It may take a village to raise a child, but it takes family and friends to remind a couple that the wedding day is the beginning of a (hopefully) long and rewarding journey.

My pet peeve is that all the hype around having a perfect wedding day misses the point: this is the beginning. One day of many, many days, if you're lucky. You need some ... ummm ... interesting ... things to happen so that everyone in attendance can laugh about it as they share the memory around holiday dinners and anniversaries.

But no. Everyone wants the perfect dress, the perfect cake, the flawless ceremony. I know this for two reasons: 1) my daughter recently got engaged and has begun trying on wedding gowns and thinking about when/where/how; and 2) I'm releasing my out-of-print historical romance Once Upon a Wedding Series in ebook format and I've been looking at wedding photos non-stop in order to find images for the covers. The artist and I finally decided (after lots of dresses, veils, flowers, etc.) to focus on cakes. There are some awesome (and no doubt expensive) wedding cakes out there, let me tell you. Including chocolate cakes. Chocolate. Cake.

By the time I was finished looking at all these images, even I was beginning to think about how to make my daughter's wedding perfect. Fortunately, I came to my senses by laughing with my husband about how our low-key ceremony, where a friend took photos with our not great camera, and my dad played bartender, was perfectly almost perfect. So I think as we head into June, the wedding month, it is a good time to use my guest Pet Peeve post to remind people that the wedding day is one day and perfect is the enemy of good stories to tell around the holiday table.

Can't you just see Wills and Kate laughing with their grandchildren over how Wills had to give that ring a good push to get it on Kate's finger? I can.
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Kelly McClymer started her career writing short science fiction, but then switched to historical romance for the happily ever after. Currently, she writes young adult novels (The Salem Witch Tryouts series, Must Love Black). Her backlist Once Upon a Wedding series is fatefully being released in ebook form just in time for a promotional effort to help ensure her daughter's wedding has plenty of family and friends to gather around the couple...and make sure there are some memorable flubs to talk about over turkey. And maybe a chocolate wedding cake. You can read the latest news at http://kellymcclymer.com/wordpress

Insult my State -- You Insult Me!

by guest blogger E.J. Copperman

It's one thing to have to listen to the "what exit" jokes and be asked if I knew any of the Sopranos. But what's going on now in the long history of disrespect to my home state is beyond the pale.

Seems there's a guy who used to work for a ritzy fashion house in Manhattan (of course), and due to issues I can't comment on intelligently, was being demoted by his company. He suffered the horrible fate of a transfer to manage high-end stores in--brace yourself--New Jersey. And he just couldn't take it.

So get this: He's suing the company for two million dollars. Because they made him work in New Jersey.

I'm asking you.

I have lived in the Garden State all my life. I like it here (although I must confess that when I mentioned that to a friend's teenage daughter last week, she laughed and said, "WHY?"). I find the people intelligent, witty, interesting and entertaining. We are not a bland lot of people trying desperately not to be noticed. We have every possible type of natural environment short of a tundra. We have beaches (like the one where my Haunted Guesthouse Mystery series is set), mountains, fields, wetlands, drylands, pine barrens and yes, some pretty gritty cities (try saying THAT three times fast!).

Transfer to my home state, pal, should cost YOU.

Among this pretentious whiner's complaints: apparently, we have smog in New Jersey (and they don't in New York City?). Our drivers are not up to his discerning standards (which probably translates into: He didn't know how to navigate a traffic circle or a jughandle like a regular person). Our fashion is simply not up to snuff. This all caused him (and I'm not using his name because I believe he's doing this to get his name mentioned) "emotional distress" to the point that he's seeing a psychiatrist (he was probably the last Manhattanite who WASN'T) and taking Zoloft (see previous parenthetical expression).

We Jerseyans put up with a lot. The toll system on our roads is designed so that you have to pay to get out, but it's free to get in. There's a sign at the Pennsylvania border that reads, "Pennsylvania. America Starts Here." We have been the butt of more jokes than Charlie Sheen.

But a $2-million lawsuit because somebody had to come here and work for a nice salary? No. Get out of the way, pal, there's somebody from New Jersey who can do your job at least as well and not complain about the indignity of having to drive on Route 4.

And the next time New Yorkers brag about their "mental toughness," simply refer them to this post. Please.
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E.J. Copperman's delightful Haunted Guesthouse Mystery series is set on the lovely Jersey shore.  E.J.s latest installment in the series, AN UNINVITED GHOST, will be published on Tuesday, April 5. (Did you miss the first one?  Night of the Living Deed?  If so--rush out to get it now.  It's WONDERFUL!!!)
Visit E.J.'s website and blog.

Don't Pick On Me--Or Anybody Else, Either!

by guest blogger Ellery Adams

My father went to high school in a rough area of New Jersey. He was a skinny nerd and quickly became the target of a bully and his gang of followers.

In class, this bully would prick the back of my dad’s neck with a thumbtack, warning him that if he ever “squealed,” he’d get the beating of his life.

My dad believed him.

As the days passed, he just couldn’t take it anymore and he decided, even if it meant getting the beating of his life, to confront this bully. He went after him in a hallway where there would be lots of witnesses, deliberately acting as crazy as he could, and paid for his recklessness with more bruises than he could count. But after that, the bully left him alone, in search of easier prey.


When I was in the 3rd grade, a girl named Ingrid used to steal our lunch money in the Girls’ bathroom. One day, my best friend refused to give it to her and this girl, who’d been left back two times and was therefore much bigger than your average third grader, slammed my friend’s face into a wall of lockers, giving her a bloody nose. I jumped on Ingrid to stop her from hurting my friend further and that’s when the teacher came in. We all got suspended and Ingrid continued to steal lunch money for the rest of that year. She went on to be a terror in middle school.

I know that bullies are usually insecure, self-loathing individuals. Once upon a time, they were simply the biggest and meanest, but in today’s schools they are harder to spot. They use text messages and emails to wound their peers, deliberately trying to ruin another student’s life. Even in the adult world, we face bullies. We’ve seen them at work, at sporting events, and on the highways.

In my recent release, A Deadly Cliché, I write about how bullying can mutate the darkness inside a person, drawing forth ugly responses and a desire for revenge. Wouldn’t it be something if our every day bullies had been put in their place from those first days at elementary school and not allowed to grow into monsters?

Do you have any experience with bullying?
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Ellery Adams writes the Books By The Bay Mysteries.  The first book, A Killer Plot, and her latest release (just this week!) is A Deadly Cliche.  Ellery is a woman of many talents--and many names, too.  If you haven't read her other books, now's a good time.  She also writes as Jennifer Stanley (The Hope Street Church Mysteries) and as J.B. Stanley (The Supper Club Mysteries and the soon-to be re-released Collectibles Mysteries).

She also blogs every Thursday with The Cozy Chicks.

Just because mine are different than yours . . . .

By E.J. Copperman

I love writing mysteries and I REALLY love hearing from the people who read them. Every one. Seriously.

But some of them worry me a bit, even as I find their attention flattering. Here's the thing: I write the Haunted Guesthouse Mystery series (NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED, with AN UNINVITED GHOST coming in April), and as the name might indicate, the story takes place in and around a Jersey Shore guesthouse thats... haunted. By two ghosts. In NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED, they insist that the new owner of the place, a woman named Alison Kerby (that's a hint) find out who murdered them. In the second book... well, read the first book and then we'll talk.

Now, I don't know where you stand on the issue of ghosts, and you don't know where I stand, either (right now I'm sitting, but that's beside the point). And I have grown used to criticism, sometimes even taking it to heart and sometimes not. I don't think you're a pet peeve if you don't like my book--this is America. You can read any books you want.

What scares me are the people who don't like the book because they think the ghosts aren't realistic enough.

Um... what?

Those who are serious about their ghosts, or for that matter, really serious about their mysteries, might want to think twice before reading my books. I'm not serious about anything when I can avoid it, and the books are meant to be fun and challenging, like a crossword puzzle, but with laughs. The characters should engage you, the story should keep you turning pages, and the ghosts--well, the ghosts are characters in the book. A fiction book. A comedic mystery fiction book.

If your ghosts don't act like my ghosts, let's assume that my dog might be a different breed from yours, or that I eat a different breakfast cereal than you do. I've heard from readers who have no problems with the idea that the owner of a guesthouse on the Jersey Shore would investigate murders, but they feel that ghosts who can be seen and heard by a select group of people (and you don't know who can and who can't--it's random) is an element that takes them out of the story and ruins the experience.

Again, I can't argue with that. If something doesn't work for you, it doesn't work for you. I could debate the point for hours on end, and I'm not going to change your mind. I'm guessing you wouldn't change mine, either.

But in the interest of my income and my children's astronomical college tuition, I'd appreciate it if people who believe that ghost characters are deal breakers would realize that's a personal preference and not try to dissuade someone else from reading the books.

I'm not in the habit of making threats, but I do intend to haunt anyone who ignores this plea. But hopefully, not for a very long time.
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E.J. Copperman writes the Haunted Guest House Mysteries.  Feel free to visit the author's web site and blog. Feel free to follow on Facebook, too.  And don't Miss An Uninvited Ghost when it's released on April 5th.  (I can't wait to read it!)

I'm Still A Hot Babe!

By guest blogger Laura Alden

Though there are lots of things that annoy me a little bit, there aren’t many things that annoy me a lot, so when Lorna graciously asked if I wanted to write a Pet Peeve column, it took me awhile to come up with a topic that would qualify.

Then, last week I came across something so irritating that, when I discovered it, I started shrieking loud enough that my husband came running.

It was the bathroom scale. And it was ugly.

I didn’t understand it. How could I have gained that much weight in the last two months? My weight has been (relatively) stable for ages. My eating habits haven’t changed and I’m not exercising any less. Heck, I’m so boring I’m not doing anything significantly different than I’ve been doing for the last fifteen years.

That’s when I started suspecting the truth. I went online and started reading the symptoms. And there it was. Weight gain was this website’s number seven list for indications of peri-menopause. Ahk!

I’m not sure what, exactly, I’m peevish about. My own personal weight gain? (And, no, I’m not saying how many pounds.) The fact of menopause? The reality that I’m getting older? 

Most probably what I’m peevish about is that I’m not going to escape menopause intact. My body is going to change and there’s not a whole lot I can do about it. Even though I didn’t sign up for weight gain -- quite honestly I was hoping for a miraculous weight loss -- it’s coming anyway. Sure, I’d heard that many women add a few pounds at this point in their lives. I just didn’t think it would happen to me.

(Sigh.)

But there is a plus side to getting older. I recently turned 48, which means there are only 22 years to go before I get free season passes at the local ski resorts. Now that’s something to look forward to!
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Laura Alden lives in northern Michigan with her husband and two very strange cats. When she’s not writing her next book, she’s working at her day job, taking pictures for the local newspaper, reading, or doing some variety of skiing. She’s fond of long soaks in the tub, red raspberries, and blue skies.  Don't miss her first book, Murder at the PTA. Please visit Laura's web site.   Laura also posts every 19th of the month on the Killer Characters Blog.

PET PEEVE THURSDAY:

By Guest Blogger Susan Wittig Albert

When Lorna said that she’d like to have me as a guest for a Pet Peeve Thursday, I knew exactly what I’d write about: the pet peeve that sparked the central mystery plot in my upcoming book The Tale of Oat Cake Crag, the seventh in the eight-book series,

The Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter. The book is set in 1911 in the Lake District of England, where children’s author-illustrator Beatrix Potter owned a farm and went to escape from the noise and bustle of London.

But in late 1911, something started bugging Beatrix and the other villagers in the Land Between the Lakes. (True story. This really happened. I am not making it up.) The irritant was an airplane. An experimental hydroplane named the Water Bird, the first of its kind in England. The Water Bird made one heckuva racket.

 “A beastly fly-swimming spluttering aeroplane careering up & down over Windermere,” Beatrix wrote in a complaining letter to her friend Millie. “It makes a noise like 10 million bluebottles. . . . It has been buzzing up & down for hours today, and it has already caused a horse to bolt & smashed a tradesman’s cart.”

Now, you and I live in a modern world that’s filled with cell phones ringing and TVs blaring and trucks with illegal mufflers (my own pet peeve), so one airplane more or less probably doesn’t make much of a difference to us. But imagine that you had come to the country to enjoy the songs of birds and the bleating of sheep. Wouldn’t you be peeved if the rural peace and quiet was broken by what sounded to like a steam threshing machine flying buzzing over your head all day long? And what was worse, a second airplane was in the works. In fact, an airplane factory was being built on the rustic shore of idyllic Windermere, the most beautiful lake in England.

Well, Beatrix Potter was peeved. More than that, she was angry. But she didn’t just complain about it. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work. She collected signatures, wrote letters to magazines and to The Times, and petitioned the Home Secretary to do something about the nuisance. And--thanks in part to her efforts--something actually did get done. By the end of 1912, the airplane factory was blown away in a storm and the Water Bird was wrecked.

 I loved this story about how one woman’s pet peeve sparked a revolt against the inappropriate intrusion of technology into a “place of rest and peace.” So I wove the tale into a fanciful mystery about the development of Britain’s first hydroplane, the Water Bird. The story also involves a teenaged dragon who sees his chance to make his mark on history and an owl who doesn’t much like that airplane, either. (You didn’t think that airplane factory actually got blown away by the wind, did you?) Oh, and it also features Winston Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty, who happened to love airplanes.

And of course, Miss Potter, whose pet peeve started the whole thing.

 
Book Drawing!

If you’d like to enter our drawing for a copy of The Tale of Oat Cake Crag, go here.

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Susan Wittig Albert writes the bestselling China Bayles mysteries, the Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter mysteries, and the Robin Paige Victorian/Edwardian mysteries written with her husband, Bill Albert. Click here to heck out her website. Catch Susan's Lifescapes blog, too

It's the thing on the steering column, buddy

 By Guest Blogger Mary Jane Maffini

Now look here, buddy in the Cadillac Escalade: if you can afford that car, you’d think you’d be smart enough to signal when you plan a sudden turn. Just sayin’ as I scrape myself off the dash. Unless you think you are above the law because you’re sitting so high up there. Guess you can afford the lawyer.

And as for you, mister with the hat. Are you really choosing to drive 35 in the 55 zone because you are safety conscious? I’m not buying that. Sooner or later, one of the ten cars behind you is going to make a break for it and try passing, safe or not. Think loud bang noises. I suppose you’ll shake your hat head disapprovingly. But never mind that. What’s actually bugging me about you (and I have lots of time to think about it because I’m stuck doing 35 in a 55 zone) is that you haven’t figured out what to do with that little stick thingie on the left hand side of your steering column. Here’s a hint: it’s called a turn signal. Turn. Signal. When you move it up or down, it will cause the appropriate signal light on your vehicle to indicate, well, turns.

I know. What a sensational new notion! As you might suspect, it is to indicate that you are going to turn shortly, say at the next intersection or into the driveway coming up.

Sorry. I couldn’t help yelling at those people. They just get to me. Then, there are the folks who use their signal to mean ‘Hey, look at me! I’m in the process of turning this second!’ Some of them like to let us know that they have already turned by giving us a couple of blinks. ‘Hey! Look where I just went!’

Or the ladies who come to a complete stop before making that turn. Sometimes in the middle of the road. As if they had no idea where they’d head off to next. Me? I had to stand on my brakes the last time. Really, that’s not what the little stick is about. It’s to give people information. When used correctly it can prevent collisions and near misses. Imagine my surprise when a confused gentleman changed lanes three times today and didn’t signal a single one. Shoulder check? I think not. I spotted a couple of drivers give him the finger but I guess he didn’t notice. He didn’t need to signal. He knew where he was going.

Maybe he’s grandpa to buddy in the backwards baseball cap driving the ancient souped-up Supra who just shot across four lanes of traffic at a right angle from the fast lane to get to the off ramp. Apparently there’s no need to signal there, because when you’re crossing four lanes of highway well above the speed limit, it should be obvious that you’re heading for the off ramp. Or with luck the nearest lock-up.

My friend Sue had an ancient auntie, Helen (a retired librarian a woman of strong opinions) who drove in a small Ontario town and refused on principle to use her turn signals. It’s none of their business which way I’m turning,” she continued to say as long as she was able to drive. The roads are a bit safer since she took that opinion to the great beyond. But I argue that where other drivers are going IS my business, not only because I missed a lovely green light due to someone else’s last minute turn, but because I have a life too, you know. I’d like to hang on to it.

So this summer, don’t make the rest of us peevish and if you see this license plate, make sure you signal!

Now that I have that out of my system, let’s hear from you. What annoys you most about the folks you meet on the road?
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Mary Jane Maffini writes three (count 'em!) mystery series. They are: The Fiona Silk Mysteries, the Camilla MacPhee Mysteries, and the fabulous Charlotte Adams professional organizer series from Berkley Prime Crime. As it happens, Mary Jand has a new book out this month called CLOSET CONFIDENTIAL. You can get it (and the others in this series) at your favorite chain bookstore -- and many independents. Or just click on this link and order it online. Check out Mary Jane's website. You can also find her on the Killer Characters blog every 14th of the month. (Hey, that was just the yesterday!)

A great week . . . except for . . .

by Guest Blogger E.J. Copperman

This has been a pretty good week for me, but that doesn't mean I'm totally peeve-free.
My paranormal mystery novel (but with laughs), NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED, was released on Tuesday, and the response so far has been very gratifying. I've even done a couple of radio interviews to support the release, and that's where the peeve comes in.

I cherish media people who interview authors. Truly, I do. And I understand completely that they can't read every book from every author they're going to interview; there just aren't enough hours in the day (or enough publicity copies to go around, in some cases). And each market is different. So I honestly don't mind answering the same questions over and over. Because each listener who hears about the book and might buy it is a friend of mine.

But does everybody HAVE to ask me about "Jersey Shore," the MTV "reality" show, just because my series is set on the beach in New Jersey?

Trust me, we Garden Staters do NOT all have names like "Snookie" or "The Situation." (That's a name?) We don't spend all our time worrying about hair gel and complaining in hot tubs. We have jobs, families, even teenagers we're proud of (like my daughter, who graduates high school June 21!). Don't judge us by that crowd.

After all, most of them are from New York, anyway.

And what's bugging YOU today?
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E.J. Copperman is the author of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED, the first in the Haunted Guesthouse Mystery series from Berkley Prime Crime. You can find out more at www.ejcopperman.com  E.J. also posts on Killer Characters.  Find his first post was yesterday.  Go ahead--go read it here.

I Can Be Pretty Incredible, Too!

By guest blogger Ellery Adams

The secret identity of the average superhero is painfully shy, clumsy and often socially inept, and uses more brain than brawn.

Why can’t the brainiack be enough? Who needs a cape (if you’ve seen The Incredibles you know that capes are dangerous being they can get caught in jet engines and stuff) or a Lycra suit?

I don’t know about you, but the idea of facing myself in the mirror dressed head-to-toe in Lycra is a terrifying thought. Those donuts do land somewhere, after all.

If I had a secret identity, she’d wear pajamas and flip-flops.

Her sidekick would be a faithful and courageous dog or a bevy of clever cats.

She’d gain extraordinary powers by reading cozy mysteries and eating chocolate (in any form).

Her weapons would be words – she’d toss them from books like miniature lightning bolts.

And her Nemesis? Anyone who looks like a character from Sex in the City or talks on their cell phone in inappropriate places.

 The truth is, I do have another identity and she also writes cozy mysteries. If you can guess my other name, send me an email to elleryadams@comcast.net and I will mail you A KILLER PLOT button and a signed bookmark to reward you for being such a super sleuth.

And while you’re here, tell me what your super power would be if you could pick only one. Personally, I’d choose superhuman metabolism – LOL!

 Ellery Adams
A KILLER PLOT: A Books By The Bay Mystery - Coming 6/1/10
from Berkley Prime Crime
elleryadamsmysteries.com

UPDATE:  THE CONTEST HAS NOW ENDED.  SORRY YOU MISSED IT!

In My Not So Humble Opinion? I think not!

By Guest Blogger Jeri Westerson

I wasn’t an English major. Too bad. Would have been handy now that I’m a published author, but I’m still pretty happy with my art degree and put it to use as a graphic artist for about fifteen crazy years in Los Angeles.

But now that the written word is my brush and the paper my canvas, I get picky about how people use their words. Or letters.

LOL. WTF. All sorts of short cuts for people to quickly type their answers to others in this electronic age we find ourselves in. And I don’t think I even mind it if you’re texting. But come on. In an email, you can at least type out the words. We have time and space for communication, after all.

But I think the one that puts me off the most is IMO. That is, In My Opinion, followed up by IMHO, In My Humble Opinion. I have seen writers tack these onto their posts to soften a harsh criticism or a bald statement. They have even attached it as a suffix to their missives just to prepare any hapless readers about what was to come. But I have news. It’s always just your opinion. You wrote it. It’s your opinion, humble or otherwise. It’s a redundancy to say it and if I were correcting your paper in English class I would tell you so. And I wouldn’t have to attach an IMO because you’d know it was my opinion. I’m the one with the red pencil scratching all over your paper.

I know it’s just a bad habit, or our way of diffusing unpleasant news or statements. Maybe women, who are used to being nurturers, may feel it's the ladylike thing to do. After all, we usually don't want to make waves or hurt other people's feelings. Saying it's just our opinion is our way of declaring, "Hey, not everyone feels that way!"

But I say own it. If you’ve got something to say, say it. We all know it’s your opinion. You don’t have to tell us twice.

Well, that’s just my two cents worth, anyway.

And what's bugging YOU today?
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Jeri Westerson is the opinionated author of the multi-award nomined Crispin Guest Medieval Noir novels. Her newest is SERPENT IN THE THORNS. You can read an excerpt and see the book trailer on her website www.JeriWesterson.com.  And don't miss Jeri's blog, Getting Medieval.

Looking for something to Celebrate?

Oh wow, it's May 4th -- and that means it's time to celebrate my friend Leann Sweeney's Happy Book Day.

Her latest release, THE CAT, THE PROFESSOR AND THE POISON is officially out today.  It's the second in her Cats in Trouble Mystery Series.
Leann has more to celebrate -- the unveiling of her brand new shiny web site, which was done by our friend, author Doranna Durgin through her Blue Hound Visions web site design.

I think book release dates are loads of fun--same with unveiling a new web site.  And they should require cake.  Lots of it.  And possibly champagne.  And lots of bells ringing and confetti flying and ...

Oh, just go order the book.   I don't think you'll be sorry.

Hey, Pal, let ME deal with my own mail!

(By Guest Blogger Mary Jane Maffini)

Dear Mr. Spam Filter:

I know you have a job to do and I realize it's not an easy one, but it's way past time you gave me a break. Seriously. What is this thing with booting my emails into the depths of your porn dumpster with purveyors of V*ag*ra, faux university degrees, and cheap Canadian drugs? Plus I definitely do not want to spend any more time in purgatory with bored Russian girls who claim they have seen my picture and can make me very very happy.

You see, here's the fact to get straight: Mary Jane. That’s my name. It may also be slang for a five-leafed herb popular as an illicit relaxant, but in this case it's just my name. That's not my fault either. I didn't pick it. Blame my parents back in the dim mists of time when these double names were all the style. None of them were code for cannabis: not Mary Jane, not Peggy Sue, not Betty Lou. So to reiterate: I am not some herb being sold online which if smoked may cause you to laugh like a loon and devour the entire contents of your mom's fridge at one sitting or even get arrested.

Nor do I appreciate you adding the designation BULK to my sent emails. I work hard at losing weight and really don't need you throwing that in my face. You don't sound too skinny yourself, pal.

To recap, I'm tired of having my messages go missing and pleading unsuccessfully with you to lighten up.  I know I am not the only one with this problem: Exhibit A: my husband recently sent himself a message from his own Blackberry, which you promptly dispatched to his spam filter. It sounds like one of those impossibilities as in being your own grandpa, but you let this happen to him and it's on you.

Friends have missed radio interviews, dinner party invitations, probably court dates, and maybe even proposals, all because something little thing sets you off. Have you considered anger management courses? I may need one of those myself, because while I get sent to the email wilderness, you let the real spam creep into my Inbox every single day.

I've given you far too many warnings without success and you have missed every opportunity to get your act together. At this point, I have no choice but to let you go. As of now, consider yourself surplus to requirements. Get a real job.

I'll deal with the Inbox.

Sincerely,

Mary Jane Maffini (and that's not Marijuana Muffins to you)
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Mary Jane the author, not the hallucinogenic weed, writes the Camilla MacPhee, the Fiona Silk, and the Charlotte Adams mysteries.  Her latest book was Law & Disorder.  Don't miss her upcoming book, Closet Confidential, which will be available July 6th.  Please check out her website:  www.maryjanemaffini.com