Celebrate National Peanut Butter Day!

It's National Peanut Butter Day! What's your favorite way to eat it?

No one's talking

Mr. L and I go out on a date for lunch at least once a week and the one thing we notice EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. is that most who go out to eat are seated and immediately whip out their phones. Sometimes they only put the phone down between bites. Last week, we went out to eat and the man and woman (who were older than me) sat down and the man immediately whipped out his phone. I could see them through their entire meal. He was on his phone for nearly the whole time they were there. The only conversation during that 45-minute span was when they were ordering. Otherwise, the woman sat there looking around and not speaking...BECAUSE HER HUSBAND WAS ON THE PHONE.

I expect that kind of behavior from younger people, so it was surprising to see it from an older gentleman.

More than 20 years ago, one of my friends confided to us that she told her husband, "I'm not going out if there will be no conversation between us." He didn't have a phone to whip out, but he was reluctant to speak to her when out. So, they stayed home.

I don't get it.  Mr. L and I have been together for (mumble, mumble) years. In all those years, we have NEVER run out of conversation. We both work from home. We talk all day long (albeit sometimes shouting between our offices--which are connected), but we have never run out of things to say to each other.

I feel sorry for these people. If you have nothing to say to each other--why are you still together?  Go find someone (friend, family member--whatever) to talk to.

What's your opinion on this?

I'm Rocking the Cat

My cat, Poppy, is a rambunctious little girl. Her favorite thing to do is to "flip and flop." She loves to roll around on the rug looking as cute as a button.

Unfortunately, she likes to flip and flop on my lap, too, and it never ends well. But I've finally found a trick to keep that wiggle-worm still. I rock her--like a baby. When I'm at the computer and she jumps onto my lap, I scoop her into my arms and we sit and have a cuddle.  This has turned our mom-and-girl time into a much more pleasant experience for both of us. (When I'm sitting on the couch, Poppy likes me to have an afghan on my lap. She'll liable to sit with me more often when I've got an afghan.)

As it turns out, Poppy likes to watch YouTube videos almost as much as I do. Just this week we've watched episodes of Restaurant Impossible and What's for Tea? (Love What's for Tea? It's about Scottish woman, named Sheryl, who cooks dinner (sharing the recipes) often in a crock pot, or a grocery store haul, and she ends her videos with beautiful shots of Scotland. (I love her!) This is the kind of food I grew up with. (My mother wasn't Scottish, but my Dad was half Scot.) This is the kind of food I want to make.  (Poppy is content with 9 Lives.)

But Poppy isn't just a mama's girl. Lately, she's developed an independent streak. Instead of spending all her time with us in our offices, she's been snoozing on the couch or behind the living room drape. Go figure. But our times together are much more calm (with a lot less biting) than they used to be just because I finally figured out what she needed as opposed to what she wants.

Does your pet require you to adapt to its needs?

Pop some corn today!

Oh, yes -- it's National Popcorn Day. Are you a fan?

Drink milk on National Milk Day

I like milk. I like whole milk (which tastes like melted ice cream to me--and I rarely have it), 2% milk, and even skim (now called fat-free) milk. Not such a fan of chocolate milk, but I like hot chocolate (made with milk).

I don't like pseudo milk. (Think almond, oatmeal, etc.)
Are you a milk fan?

It's Christmas Eve

Happy Christmas Eve!

The Brookview Inn is beautifully decorated for the season and will be booked solid tonight--and tomorrow, the dining room will host a lovely holiday brunch.

Have you ever spent Christmas away from home?

Would you wear this sweater?

Today is National Ugly Christmas Sweater Day.

Do you have a holiday sweater? I have one--but I didn't buy it. After my mother passed, I acquired hers. It's H-E-A-V-Y and so far I haven't worn it, but I'm planning on wearing it tomorrow when Mr. L takes me out to lunch to celebrate the season.

Can you imagine my character, Tricia, wearing one?  I honestly can't. I can, however, see Angelica wearing one. I think her granddaughter, Sofia, would love it. And I can see her buying them the same sweater.

Do you have an ugly Christmas sweater?

National Hard Candy Day

Are you a hard candy fan? I like hard candy. Sometimes I'm in the mood for peppermints and sometimes for butterscotch.

What hard candy do you prefer?

Not what I needed to find

Yup, it's flat as a pancake.

Yesterday, I went out to the garage to get the car and run an errand and noticed that my bumper was a lot lower than Mr. L's car. (We we have the same cars.) Uh-oh! A flat. In all the years I've been driving, this is only my second flat tire.

Unfortunately, after Mr. L called AAA, the towing company got an emergency call from the cops, so we had to wait over two and a half hours. By the time the car got to Goodyear, they had finished work for the day (they're short-staffed) so Angelica (that's my car's name) had to stay overnight. Hopefully it was just a nail. That's covered by AAA. If the tire needs to be replaced (It's in good shape, so I hope not), then it's on me. So, I need to wait until later this morning to run my errands (hopefully, the last of my holiday shopping).

Has anything kept you from getting stuff done during this chaotic month?

On my Christmas Tree

Because this is our girls' first Christmas (with us), we decided to go light on the Christmas tree decorations, although they've been up more than a week now and the girls have paid very little attention to the tree. That said, we only have about half the ornaments on the tree, but of course, I had to have most of my favorites.

After my mother passed, I got first pick of her ornaments. She found this little cutie at a garage sale. She felt sorry for it because it was naked--so what did she do?  She found a piece of net and made this angel a skirt. Every time I think about this  angel, I smile because Mum gave her something to wear.  She seems much happier that way. It's a must that she goes on the tree every year.

I always loved this little angel. Maybe it's the patches on her little outfit.  For many years she was on my mother's tree, but about ten years ago I begged, sat up pretty, and my mother gave her to me.

My mother had a thing for dolls and had many of them on her tree. I only kept the ones I like, and I liked her.

Another of my mother's tree dolls.  This one is is dressed all in paper, which makes her very fragile. I wrap her well when it's time to take down the tree.

You're probably asking, "Don't you have any ornaments of your own?" I sure do. (Oh, boy do I!) This little kitty angel was a gift from my boyfriend, who a year later became my husband. She's been on our tree since the beginning.

Every year, my mother would go to a quilting conference near Syracuse. Every year she would bring me back something. (One year she brought me a mug of a kitty in a shopping bag because my cat, Kate, loved to play in shopping bags. (Still have the mug, although it's pretty faded by now.) One year, she brought me this pretty paper bow. It sits near the top of my tree and gets packed away in the original pretty paper bag it came home in, plus it's own gold-tone (Forman's) box. (Did I mention that I often buy old boxes of now-defunct department stores at yard sales?)

The first Christmas I had my own tree, I bought this little pink paper angel at Penney's. Along with her were (and I still have them) a paper lumberjack (yes, really--with a little paper ax--you can see him in the left-hand corner of the first photo above--he looks like Santa) and a paper clown. I don't like clowns, but this one wears a red-and-white striped clown suit that reminds me of salt water taffy, so he can be on my tree every year, too.

I got this little Made In Japan angel (along with 5 of her sisters--there were originally 8 in the box) at a yard sale last year. I have a thing for Made In Japan figurines and I was happy to welcome her and t the others to the tree.

For a while, kitty angels were a big thing. My mother bought me this one before they became ubiquitous and for the whopping price of $25. (It's even signed by the maker.)  It's porcelain (not plastic) and it always has a place of honor on my tree. And now I have my own silver tabby angel (my Emma--but I hope it'll be decades before she's an angel),

I have a lot of "animal" ornaments on my tree (even an elephant and a couple of fish--one smoking a cigar!). But I probably have more cats than anything else. This little cutie is asleep in a Santa hat.

I bought this Westie ornament in honor of my parents' first Westie, Buddy. What a good dog. He went to obedience school twice and was a joy to walk. He always sat at the curb, and he never did his business during a walk, so you never had to carry a bag. (He waited until he got home.) His first winter, my Dad trained him to wait to have his feet wiped of snow (or mud). He'd patiently stand there and offer you each paw so you could wipe them. And he stood quietly while you picked the snow from between the pads on his feet. That dog was just a joy.

This is Elga. She's kind of shabby and faded now, but she used to hang from the rear-view mirror of my first car. When I got a new car, I retired her, but I never got rid of her. Now she graces my tree every Christmas. And, as it turns out, she now has sisters. When I married Mr. L, he had several of these little crocheted cuties (all different) and they go up on the tree every year, too!

These are just a few of the hundreds (and I mean that literally) of ornaments that go up on our 7.5' tree every year.  Do your ornaments all have a story?

P.S. My Dad carved Santas as a hobby.  This is just one of them. (They're all different!) I have about 30 of them on my tree. (You can see another one in the top photo at the upper left.)

Coming on December 31st!

COMING DECEMBER 31st

A tattoo parlor on Victoria Square? Some of the merchants get steamed at the prospect, but could they be driven to kill to stop it? That's what the sheriff's office and Katie Bonner want to know when the building's owner is electrocuted with his own saw.

Meanwhile, tensions rise when a hot chef takes over the square's tea shop. Will Katie have three men vying for her affections, or will her rival take the tea cake?

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Books A Million | Indiebound 

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Kindle US | Kindle Worldwide | Nook | Kobo | Apple Books | Google Play

(Check out my website for ebook editions in the UK, AU, IE and NZ)

Watch the booktrailer!

Books, books, books!

FUN FACT:  Books make GREAT gifts. 

It's National Pie Day!

What's odd about National Pie Day is that ... it's not the only one.There'll be another one in January (on the 23rd). Go figure?

So what's your favorite kind of pie?

It's Small Business Saturday!

It's Small Business Saturday -- so visit your independent (Mom & Pop) stores and restaurants today.

And if you need to catch up on your Booktown Mysteries (or someone on your gift list needs to do the same), check out my list of books on my website.  Just click this link. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving from me, Mr. L and Poppy and Emma!

A not so wonderful National Day

National Tie-One-On Day arrives every year the day before Thanksgiving.

Is it really a good idea to tie one on?

It's been my experience that feeling tipsy is nice. Being drunk is not. The room spins and, at least for me, I spent an hour or so worshiping the porcelain god. Oh, and then there's the hangover where you feel like you will NEVER feel well again. I highly recommend NOT getting totally potted. Drink responsibly.

Have you ever wished you hadn't had too much to drink?

Turkey Day Approches

Would you trust Pixie to cook the turkey?

She really, really loves me!

I have been lucky to have a string of wonderful cats. In fact, I came across a saying just yesterday:  "No amount of time can erase the memory of a good cat." They were all special, but one stands out:  Fred.  He was my son. My little prince.  My sweet puppy boy. I adored him from the day I first saw him at Pet Smart. It took me five months to convince Mr. L to finally let me have him. (The store stipulated that he MUST be adopted with his brother, which is why they were both there for THIRTY-NINE WEEKS.)

Unfortunately, George didn't work out. He was a runt, but he was also a bully. He attacked the other cats, and even I was bitten (and my thumb started to turn black), but when he viciously attacked our Betsy, that was the last straw. He had to go. (And believe me, it was a tearful decision. We'd never had a cat failure.) Luckily, Mr. L's cousin's best friend was looking for a cat. George went to live in Buffalo and the minute he saw Cindy, it was love at first sight. He's still with her and he has not only tolerated her other cats, but been best buddies.  Go figure. (We learned the hard way that five cats strains the system.)

After George left, Fred became my boy. He was the most cheerful cat on the planet. All I had to do was look at him and he would purr. He loved for me to throw him over my shoulder and dance. He came when I called him. He wasn't much of a lap cat, but he'd sit with me for at least five minutes every evening. I loved that cat with all my heart and he loved me. I'm still broken-hearted that we lost him to kidney disease 20 months ago.

But loving Fred did not prepare me for Emma.

We got Emma and her sister nine months ago after 11 sad months of being catless. Not that we didn't look for cats. We looked for cats all the time visiting shelters and pet stores. None spoke to us. We wanted babies, because all of our previous cats had been elderly and we didn't want to lose new ones for at least a couple of decades. (We had three cats that lived to be 20.) One of my readers fosters cats.  She told us about Poppy and Emma.

At first, Emma was aloof and Poppy was the lover. (She still is, but on HER terms.) It took Emma a while to warm up to us. She's only now learning to be a lap cat (and it seems ONLY when I'm sitting in the family room editing the day's work. Go figure.)  But over the summer, Emma decided that I am her human. She is with me at least 22 hours of the day. She sits beside me (in the other chair) in my office. If I get up, she gets up. She follows me like a puppy. If she's out of sight and I call, she immediately comes running.  At night, she sleeps either at my feet, or next to my pillow.

Lately, we noticed that the normally silent Emma only talks when I go into the kitchen. For the rest of the day, she's as quiet as a mouse. Here's a video I took of her the other day.



I often feel sorry for Mr. L because Emma snubs him. The other day, I walked into his office (which adjoins mine) and Emma walked past him (on his desk) to jump to his other office chair, climbed on top and begged me to make a fuss of her. She would love it if I made a fuss of her 24/7 telling her what a beauty she is and how much she's loved.

Yeah, she (and her sister) is a keeper.

Have you ever had a very special cat?

Rock-a-Bye Poppy

For a while now, I've been having a problem with my baby girl, Poppy. She's the sweetest little girl in the world. Unlike her sister, who pays attention to everything and comes when she's called, and does everything she's told, Poppy is a rebellious girl. She doesn't listen all that well. Like her sister, she's a flipper and a flopper. She loves to roll on the rug--back and forth and forth and back. She's a good lap cat at the end of the day and will sit quietly, but during the day? Not so much.

She also likes to bite -- everything. Not just me, but paper, boxes, desks, you name it, she bites it. She's not teething. She has passed her first birthday, but she still likes to BITE.

Recently I realized that there was a way to calm her. She will settle in my arms and I rock her like a baby. She purrs and purrs and then falls asleep. This is all very nice and loving ... until my arms and feet fall asleep. Then I have to put her down and she almost immediately jumps back on my lap. This makes it very hard to get any work done.

The girls chill under Mr. L's lamp.

Luckily, Mr. L has a 200 watt light bulb in his office. Under the light we've placed three cat beds. (We used to have more cats.) The girls often sleep under the warmth of that incandescent bulb. (We aren't going green with that lamp any time soon.) I also have a small oil-filled radiant space heater in my office and I keep a cushion next to it that's big enough to accommodate both girls. Now that the weather has turned, I'm hoping they will use it more and let me work.

It's not a terrible problem to have cats who love me and want to be with me. I just need to convince them that they need to change their timing.

What's your biggest pet problem?

The End of Summer = Back to School

Okay, summer doesn’t officially end until September 23, but for most of the country, Labor Day marks the end of the summer season.

When I was in school, Labor Day felt like some kind of death knell. Summer was over. School started. Nobody I knew liked going back to school, but I absolutely loathed it. I hated every single day of school, staring with Kindergarten, and some days more than others.  The highlight of my entire school career was the two years I spent in high school with my best friend Lori D. Back in those days, I was known as Lori, too.  “Lorraine” seemed so old-fashioned (and it still does) and I desperately wanted to be cute and thin like she was, and since I couldn’t be either, then at least I could be “Lori Bartlett.” (And incredibly, a two people still think of me that way. And thanks to Facebook, I’m still in contact with both of them. Hi Lori and Lee!)

Just yesterday, I went thrifting with my neighbor and her two boys and I admitted to them that I hated school, and my neighbor’s youngest son (who has the same name as my younger brother) shouted, “YES! She gets it!”

Of course, his mother didn’t want to hear that I hated school, but she also had to concede that a hatred of our educational system still managed to produce a New York Times bestselling author.

Except … that I don’t think I ever learned all that much from public school (besides learning to read and type). Algebra? Forgetabout it. (My favorite subject wasn’t English. Sorry, even now I could not deconstruct a sentence.) All that crap bored me. In fact, I spent a hellulva lot of the hours during my public education daydreaming (and getting in trouble for it). There were stories running through my head and I found it really hard to focus on schoolwork. Mr. L thinks I am probably mildly dyslexic. I had a couple of classes (and teachers, two who were actually married to each other) who encouraged me, but most did not. I fell through the cracks.

And then after high school, I found Star Trek fandom. What I never learned in school, I leaned from wonderful women who mentored me. We met through Star Trek, but it was other fandoms where I first started writing. These wonderful women encouraged me when all I wanted to do was write and didn’t have a clue how to do it. (And I learned even more when I connected with romance writers.)

My neighbor is currently homeschooling her oldest son because traditional high school let him down, and he's doing well. This kid is gifted. He’s a little nutty, but guess what—that’s what sets us creative people apart from the rest of the crowd. If the opportunity to be home schooled had been open to me, I think I would have flourished. Mind you, through high school I still managed to hit honor roll for three of my four years, but I can remember so many times when teachers stomped on my work because it wasn’t “mainstream” enough for them. Excuse me for being pompous, but I’d sure like to shove my NY Times bestselling honors up their butts.

So what’s my point? I’m not at all sure. But my friend’s kid is going to have a lot of options in the future. His parents understand and encourage his creativity. When I look back, so did my parents. When I announced my desire to be a professional writer, my Dad shook his head and said, “Why would you choose one of the hardest jobs in the world?” I had no words. He was only six months away from death when I hit the New York Times bestsellers list for the first time. He never knew that I hit it five more times or got nominated for an Agatha award.

School is still a sore subject with me. Far too many kids are pushed toward college and saddled with tremendous debt that will shadow them for a decade or more. If I was coming out of high school today, I think I would have considered the construction trade. (I did take wood shop in high school, which was actually quite fun.) Even so, I know I still would have been writing, but I would have had a trade and good-paying job. As it was, I was caught in the pink-collar trap and made crap wages for almost all my traditional working years.

So, where am I today?

Glad that I don’t have to go back to school next Thursday. Instead? I’ll be working on my next novel. And that makes me happy.

How do you feel about your school years?

Yard Sale Woes

My neighbor and I try to walk at least three days a week. Everybody needs exercise, right? Last week, she mentioned that she was going to have a yard sale on a Thursday and Friday. Mr. L and I had plans for Friday, but I asked her if she minded if I brought some of my stuff down and tried to sell it on Thursday. "Sure!"

I've had boxes of stuff sitting in my garage for two years. That was the last time I attempted a yard sale. (It got rained out.) While Mr. L is fine about going to yard sales, he's not keen on hosting them. He says we never make any money, and it's a lot of hard work and time wasted.

But, all I had to do was fill the van, drive down the road, and unload it. That was the first fly in the ointment...setting up. I had three card tables, a folding metal shelf, and a tarp, and I needed all of them. There was so much stuff--stuff I considered to be "good stuff." That's the kind of stuff I look for at yard sales. Pictures, picture frames, kitchen stuff, and a lot of what we called "smalls" when I had a booth at the antiques arcade. And at 7:30 am it was HOT and MUGGY. By the time I finished setting up, I was soaked with sweat. (Well, we didn't get to walk, so that was my exercise.)

Before we had even finished setting up, we had a few people stop by--either on their way to work or just coming off the night shift. Right away, my neighbor sold a kid's wagon for $20. Was this a good omen? Well, not exactly. It was another neighbor coming home from work.

We also had a strike against us. We live on a quiet street that is connected on both ends by very busy roads. Unfortunately, there's a bridge under reconstruction at the end one of those busy streets, so the road is closed except to "local" traffic. So possibly thousands of cars never passed our street by the south side.

Highlights of the day:  A woman who bought a sign that said LET IS SNOW. She was visiting our area from Florida. "Hey, we decorate for the holidays," she said when my neighbor laughed. In fact, she lives on the Intercoastal Waterway and said everyone decorates their docks and yards.

Neither my neighbor or I had breakfast, so around 10 o'clock she brought out these JUMBO cinnamon muffins. Holy cow, I haven't had a BIG muffin in a long time and this was REALLY good! And we were sucking back water like crazy, although the humidity did lessen as the day went on.

Around 1 o'clock, another neighbor and her adorable Westie (Cooper) came to visit. So we're sitting there shooting the breeze when something crawling on the garage floor catches my eye. At first I thought it was a cicada (although we mostly see them in August), but then I saw ... THE TAIL.

EEEEEK A MOUSE!  It came in from the side of the garage. My neighbor leapt from her chair (I'd already done so and was going EEEEK EEEEEK). The mouse changed direction and ran outside, and my neighbor tried to chase it into the grass, but the mouse panicked and ran back into the garage. Cooper (a terrier, and they were bred to kill rats) wanted to attack, but his mother held him back. My neighbor had the coolest head and took care of the situation.

Around 4 o'clock there was not much happening, and I wanted to pack up, but my neighbor convinced me to hang on until 4:30. We had one more customer -- and I made $1 and my neighbor made a quarter. Woo-hoo! It took 45 minutes to pack everything up (and not as neatly as it was in the morning). My earnings for the day: $39.20. My neighbor did much better.

My take?  The reason I find such good stuff at yard sales is because the average yard sale attendee doesn't care for that kind of stuff. It seemed like people were looking for children's clothes, toys, tools, and cooking utensils. Not much in the way of decor, and nobody wanted anything Christmas (In July, no less).

Back home, Mr. L made me a refreshing adult beverage and since we hadn't seen each other all day, we just sat and talked for more than an hour. It's amazing how exhausting it is just to sit around all day doing nothing. I sit around all day working, but it's different. My neighbor was SOOOOO glad to have company that day. (She'd done the yard sale last weekend, too.) She was going to do it again this morning for 4 hours and then call it quits because the heat index is up in the 100s today and that's just too hot.

Meanwhile, Mr. L is took me to a rummage sale.

The stuff that's leftover? My neighbor is donating hers to a church rummage sale. My stuff is going to Goodwill.

And Mr. L and Mr. H both said -- NO MORE YARD SALES.

Neighbor and I will just have to go to them instead.

Have you ever done a yard sale? Was it worth it?

FB Giveaway

Woo-hoo! Over on my Facebook Group Page, I'm hosting a holiday craft giveaway to celebrate my holiday books. Come on over and leave a comment sharing a favorite holiday memory to be in contention for a different craft project for the next few days.

Today's featured story is CHRISTMAS AT SWANS NEST.

The holidays are fast approaching, and Kathy Grant is hard at work on the renovations of her soon-to-be bed and breakfast. An unexpected winter storm disrupts her friends’ plans, and it looks like her B&B will have to open a little early. And then there are the cryptic notes that hint of a treasure to be found somewhere in the house. Will Kathy and her friends find a cache of cash?

Kindle US | Kindle Worldwide | Nook | Apple Books | Kobo 

Click this link to  join my Facebook Group Page. 

Come Thrift with me #1

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50% Off Smashwords Sale

Smashwords is having a great 50% off sale on many of my Lorraine and LL Bartlett titles that's good for the entire month of July.

Check out my hard-boiled suspense titles.

Murder On The Mind  |  Dead in Red  |  Room At The Inn  |   Cheated By Death   

Bound By Suggestion  |  Dark Waters  |  Shattered Spirits  |  A Jeff Resnick Six Pack    

Evolution: Jeff Resnick's Backstory |  Off Script 

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Check out my cozier titles:

With Baited Breath  |  A Reel Catch  |  Love & Murder

Tales of Telenia: STRANDED   |  Tales of Telenia: JOURNEY

Mystical Blythe Cove Manor  |  Recipes To Die For: A Victoria Square Cookbook

This is a great time to stock up on my titles!

Now Available in Paperback

POISONED PAGES, the 12th Booktown Mystery, is now available on

Tricia Miles, mystery bookstore owner and amateur sleuth, throws a housewarming cocktail party in her new apartment and has cooked all the food by herself--quite a feat for someone who previously couldn't boil water. Then one of her guests is poisoned and dies. Tricia's left to wonder if her cooking is to blame or if there's something much more sinister at play. Either way, Tricia's once again in hot water with her ex-lover, Chief Baker.

Meanwhile the charming town of Stoneham is being disrupted by a vandalism crime wave. It's the hot topic in the race for Chamber of Commerce president which sees Tricia pitted against two bitter rivals. With all that's going on can she find the killer before she's the next item on the menu?

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Order your copy now and help me hit the USA Today's bestseller list!

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