October
Don't know about you, but it was probably the middle of August when stores in my area started putting out their Halloween displays.
Time for my latest thoughts on writing, projects, a sneak peek, a new release from M.S. Spencer, one of my favorite author buddies, an interview with author Josephine Jardin and music. After all, music is essential to life.
Ready?
Let's roll.
Writing
As with most writers, I get approached occasionally by people with questions. Some will ask where I get my ideas for my stories. (Anywhere, at any time. Often something I've observed or overheard can jumpstart my imagination.)
Occasionally someone will want to tell me their great idea for a story, which they expect me to write. (I stop them immediately and say 'on advice of counsel, I cannot hear your concept unless we've agreed in advance to a written contract, describing the fees you will pay.)
Some want to know if I base my characters on real people I know. (No. But at times I might liberate idiosyncrancies from people I've met over the years and incorporate those into a character.)
Several years ago, I even went so far as to create the Author's Warning, which is proudly displayed on my table at every event.
· You are in the presence of an author. Anything you say or do may end up in a published short story or novel.
· These interactions may be altered to fit the character and ultimately may not be considered to be flattering to you.
· Your physical appearance, wardrobe, behavior and demeanor may be adjusted. Any body art, piercings, hair extensions or surgical enhancements may be exaggerated or eliminated.
· All characters created are the result of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to any person living or dead are strictly coincidental. Yes, really.
· You will not receive compensation or any acknowledgement for your contributions to the story.
This often catches the attention of shoppers and can lead to a few laughs. And the occasional surprise.
In early September, I was pitching my books at the Wine & Harvest Festival in Paw Paw, MI. This is a great show. It was my fourth year as a vendor and I'm already registered for the 2027 show.
During Saturday's action, a beautiful woman with red hair approached my booth. When I started talking about the Jamie Richmond books, she gave my a mischievous smile and said, "You worked that line on me last year, about posing for one of the covers!" She thumped "Chasing Favors" and said, "You said this one was definitely me!" Her two friends were nodding and smiling.
Yes, Jessica was a returning customer. She enjoyed the two Jamie books she'd bought last year and "Rules of Desperation." This year she purchased the other three books in the Jamie series. While I was signing her new copies, she leaned forward a little and asked "Are you involved with anyone?"
Before I could respond, Jessica elaborated, saying it could be challenging, being around someone who writes such interesting stories.
"My wife claims to sleep with one eye open," I said.
Finished with the autographs, I extended the books to Jessica. "Have to be honest here. My first reaction to your question was "Whatcha got in mind?"
Which lead to laughter all around. I hope she returns next year to buy some more books.
Maybe I need to add another line to the warning.
The Sneak Peek
Devious is in the spotlight this month. Officially, this is the first book I ever wrote. Jamie Richmond was an investigative reporter for almost ten years. She excelled at unraveling complex stories and created a significant network of contacts around metro Detroit.
Now she's left her job as a journalist to pursue her passion of writing mystery novels. Like any good author, Jamie does extensive research for her books. It's during that research that she uncovers an actual crime. Jamie's curiosity and stubbornness lead her to trouble.
Thursday evening, I returned to an unexpected heat wave. My apartment was stuffy and quiet. I was reminded of a spinster aunt who spent her life cooped inside her little flat, afraid to venture out into the world. I threw open the windows and switched off the furnace. I’d taken nothing but business suits with me and was dying to get comfortable in a pair of jeans. I dumped the contents of my suitcase on the floor of the closet and was shucking my heavy wool outfit when the phone rang.
“Hey, Jamie. How was the trip?” Malone’s deep voice cooed in my ear.
“It was good.”
“How about dinner?”
“I thought you were working.”
“I am. Cops have a right to eat too, you know.”
I was standing in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but stockings and high heels. I wondered if Malone would like the outfit. Maybe I should ask him.
“So do you want to meet me or not?”
“Yes, Malone. Where?”
“O’Leary’s in ten minutes?”
“I’m naked. Give me twenty,” I said. If I told him what I was really wearing, he might break out laughing, or faint dead away.
“Forget O’Leary’s. I’ll be right there,” he teased.
“Twenty minutes.” I kicked off the heels and squirmed out of the stockings. I opted for a pair of very lacy panties with a matching black bra, and rummaged in the closet for a corduroy skirt and a cotton blouse. I called this my flirt skirt. It was knee length but had functional snaps that ran down the front of it. Depending on how flirtatious I was feeling determined how many snaps were left undone. I grabbed my bag and hurried off to meet him.
O'Leary's wasn't crowded when I arrived. Malone was in uniform, sitting at a booth near the back of the restaurant. He greeted me with a tender hug and a chaste kiss on the lips then pulled me in beside him on the bench.
"Saving it up for later?" I asked.
"Bank on it. How was the trip?”
“Okay. Shannon wants me to do a hundred pages of rewrites for the book and my publisher wants a synopsis for a series of mysteries we’ve been kicking around. If I can sell them on the series, I’ll get an advance. We also talked about a promotional tour for next spring.”
“Is that a big deal?” Malone asked.
“It could be, depending on the reviews. There may be twenty cities in the Midwest, with talk shows and autograph sessions. If they are footing the bill, it can help increase sales. I’ll know more after the first of the year.”
Malone opened his menu and scanned the page quickly. A waitress approached, wearing a green leotard and skirt with a black apron. He glanced at me and raised his eyebrows. "Want me to order for you?"
"Sure, I'm starving."
Malone turned to the girl. "We’ll have the roast lamb stew, tossed salads with raspberry vinaigrette, and coffee."
"You eat here often?" I asked as she wiggled away. I'd swear she put a little extra swing in her hips for Malone's benefit. I didn't know whether to be angry or jealous. Idly, I undid a couple more snaps on the skirt. It fell open to mid-thigh.
"Couple times a week. Sean’s a decent guy. The food's good and the prices are reasonable. A lot of the guys stop in. The service is pretty good too.” He winked at me. It was obvious he’d noticed the extra wiggle.
"You're a good guy, Malone."
He leaned over to kiss me. His left hand landed softly on my knee. I watched the expression hit his eyes as he realized this was a smooth bare leg he was feeling. Malone gently slid his hand a little higher. A shiver of excitement ran through me. It took several moments for me to withdraw from that kiss.
“Want to skip dinner?” I was glad this part of the restaurant was dark, since I was blushing beet red.
“I think we’re going to need that nourishment for later.” Malone reluctantly removed his hand from my leg.
After dinner he walked me out to the parking lot. He stopped beside my car and leaned against the door.
"Did I tell you how much I missed you, Malone?" I put my arms around his neck. His hands went to my waist.
"Nope."
"Would it be improper for a girl to kiss a cop while he's on duty?"
Malone's eyes went to his left wrist. "I've got two minutes before I check in."
He tipped his head down to meet my lips and kissed me warmly. If anyone was watching, I didn't see them. I didn't care. His left hand remained on my hip. The right had somehow drifted between my legs and undid two more snaps. The skirt was only fastened to the top of my hips now. A shudder ran through my whole body as his fingertips stroked my bare leg.
“Welcome home, Jamie.” Gently he pulled away and straightened up.
“Thanks for the flowers.”
“My pleasure. Glad to have you back.”
"How glad are you, Malone?”
"See you later?" he asked.
"Oh yeah. It may take me a while to be able to drive. And I seem to be having this problem with my door. It just won't stay locked at night." I pushed his hands away and stepped back before I attacked him in the parking lot.
"I'll have to see what I can do to remedy that. And Jamie…don’t change your clothes.”
Works in Progress
Legendary Hollywood icon Mel Brooks wrote many songs for his plays and movies. One of my favorites is "Hope for the best. Expect the worst."
You can even hear Brooks signing it here.
What's the connection?
Last year I finished writing "Agonasti's Dilemma" which could be classified as historical fiction or a crime novel. Or something else. It's set primarily in 1992 in Detroit, when Leo Agonasti, who appears in several Jefferson Chene mysteries, is still active in his role as a financial advisor. The fact that some of Leo's clients are from organized crime families is a major component for the story.
My 'hope for the best' was that I could attract the attention of a literary agent, who would a) love the story, b) decide to represent me as a client c) get me a contract with one of the big 5 publishers d) see the novel released and e) the national attention and sales would also result interest in all of my previous work.
Pretty ambitious, right?
Earlier this year, I met several literary agents at a conference. Two were very interested in the book and asked for copies. So, hope for the best was in the works.
The 'expect the worst' came to fruition when those agents eventually declined to represent me. The last one rejected me in early September.
Insert your favorite curse words expressing disappointment here.
But I've always been a firm believer in having a backup plan or two.
I'm reviewing the manuscript, since it's been sitting on the shelf for a year now. Then I'll have it edited by Nancy Light, who did a wonderful job for me with "Fade Away". If everything works out, this will be ready for me to self-publish in early Spring 2027. That's a much faster turnaround time than I could expect with a traditional publisher.
Once I finish reviewing "Agonasti's Dilemma" it's back to work on Chene 4.
Events
October was a perfect time to catch my breath after a very busy summer of festivals. I'm shifting to indoor events with three on the books for November.
Portage Central High School
Saturday, November 7 9 to 3
Comstock Park High School
Saturday, November 14
Portage Parks & Recreation
Sunday, November 22
A New Release
M.S. Spencer and I have been 'book buddies' for more than ten years. Which is a little unusual since we've never actually met. But we support each other's work and celebrate whenever a new book is published. She does a knack for creating believable characters and putting them in unusual situations. Witty dialogue and a touch of steam is often included at no extra charge.
Award-winning, multi-published author M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. She has worked as a librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, and nonprofit director. In September, 2026 she will have published nineteen romantic suspense and mystery novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
Here's the latest from Spencer
Tilting at windmills can be hazardous to your health.
What do a government official, a loony environmentalist, and a batty old lady have in common?
Zoe’s run-in with the newcomer in Albion Cottage is hardly promising, but his gunmetal gray eyes and air of mystery stick with her. Why is he hiding? Who is he? His prickly attitude grates on the neighborly—well, to be honest, nosey—folks of the village of Amity Landing, but when he confesses to Zoe that he is the witness to a gruesome murder, she jumps at the chance to help the handsome stranger.
Two more corpses make their appearance in quick succession, but their connection to the first body is murky at best. Is it simply a series of unfortunate incidents? Has Amity Landing become a hotbed of homicide or is there a pattern to the madness? Do more have to die before Zoe and the stranger can fit the puzzle pieces together?
Here's a scene from the book.
She turned on the lamp. “Here’s a notepad. Something’s scribbled on it.” She held it under the light.
The letterhead said Department of Justice. The main text was a series of alphanumeric and other symbols. Someone had transcribed the symbols into letters. “It’s a code!” She picked it up and mounted the companionway to the deck. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen. “Sebastian!”
Cold fingers latched onto her ankle from underneath the boat. “Shh. Jump down.”
She dropped over the side to the ground. “What is it?”
“Iona was driving past along the road. I don’t know if she saw me.”
They waited for five minutes. Zoe poked up a cautious head. “No one there.” She stood up.
Sebastian crawled out. “What were you so excited about?”
She showed him the paper. “Look what it says. ‘Aaron, expect new participant 12 am. Murder witness. High ranking escort. Confirm.’ ”
He read it twice. “Aaron? Not Iona?”
“Could it be referring to a different witness? A whole different case?”
“I was scheduled to be brought here at midnight on October 12. It has to be about me.” He gazed at Zoe. “Who was this Aaron? And where the hell is he?”
A wintry voice behind them said, “I was called in to replace Aaron Hess.” They whirled around. Iona stood there. Zoe half expected her to be aiming her Glock at them. Instead, she held out a shaking hand and whispered, “Give me the note.”
Sebastian held it tight. “It’s an order from someone to Aaron to expect me. Where is he?”
“He died in the fire.” Her eyes, when she raised them, were bleak. “We were…engaged.”
Zoe went to her, but the woman stood rigidly. “Please don’t. I’m… I’m fine.” When Zoe backed off, she heaved a breath. “I was assigned to bring Sebastian to him that Saturday night. I came two days early to confirm with Aaron that he’d gotten my note and was ready for Sebastian. When I couldn’t find him, I left. I was half a mile away when I heard a loud boom. By the time I arrived, the flames were as high as those pine trees.”
“Did you see Aaron?”
“No. The fire engines blocked my line of sight, and the police held me back.”
“But…but they should have allowed you to stay!”
“I could hardly tell them who I was—or who Aaron was.” She said miserably, “Besides, I had a job to do. I had to retrieve Sebastian and find another hideout for him.”
Zoe’s heart broke at the agony on her face. “I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t sniffle. Not a tear rippled the surface of her eye. She forced a microscopic smile. “It’s all right. I’m all cried out.” She held out her hand. “The note?”
“The original was in code.”
“Oh, that. It’s a game we play—played. Our own little secret means of communication. Aaron loved cryptograms. Deciphering them relaxed him. By high-ranking, I meant me.” She tucked the note into her pocket. With infinite sadness, she whispered again, “I meant me.” She straightened. “Now, would you like to explain what you are doing here?” She waved her hand. “This doesn’t look like Albion Cottage.”
They made a mash of their excuses, but evidently Iona wasn’t in the mood to chastise. “I’ll take you home.”
At that moment, a truck engine roared to life. As they emerged from behind the boat, they caught a flash of blue as a vehicle turned onto Hilltop Road, spewing up gravel from a pothole. It vanished in the trees. “Sheesh. This isn’t the Daytona 500, fella.”
Zoe bent down and picked something up from the driveway. “Huh.”
“What is it?”
“A pipe.” She held it up. “From an oil tank.” She swiveled to the still smoking heap of debris. “The oil tank’s gone.”
You can learn more about Spencer at the links below.
The Author Profile
At the end of September, I participated in my last outdoor show for the year. This was a brand new event, right in my backyard The Crooked Nook Book Festival was in Kalamazoo. I was pleasantly surprised to see more than forty authors participating, many of whom I'd never met before.
That's where I encountered Josephine Jordin. We chatted for a few minutes and discovered a connection, since both of us have worked with Nancy Light on projects.
I couldn't resist the opportunity to learn more about her.
Everyone takes a different path to becoming a published author. What was your journey like?
Writing has long been a sought-after passion for me but always took a backseat to my evolving responsibilities. Losing my mother a few years back, however, encouraged me to shuffle my priorities. I soon found myself with pockets of free time to rediscover myself, and my suppressed passion returned in full force. Initially, I pursued traditional publishing.
Following an encouraging exchange with a small press publisher, I opted for the self-publishing route. I ultimately decided that I wanted the freedom to blend genres and tell a story that doesn’t necessarily meet a predetermined checklist. I realized, however, that part of my journey was critical, as it gave me the confidence I needed to pursue my own path.
My debut novel, Ready for a Storm, was published in July of 2025. The book has since received the 2026 Readers’ Favorite Bronze Award and the International Firebird Book Award, for which I’m most grateful.
Are there any requirements you need when you’re working on a story?
Peace and quiet! My patience for interruptions has waned over the years, much to my family’s disappointment. A little herbal tea goes a long way, as do the soothing sounds of Mother Nature. During the few warm months we have in northern Michigan, I prefer to write outside as much as possible.
Do you prepare an outline before you start writing a story?
Absolutely! Though I often deviate significantly at times…
Tell us about your latest book.
Slated for release in January, Weathered the Storm, the third and final chapter in my Storm Series, will bring closure to my trio of titans’ stories. As Ava and Mace head toward wedded bliss, a threat from the past emerges, jeopardizing their happily-ever-after. Meanwhile, Scotch thirsts for his own happy ending as Redge faces uncharted territory.
Have a scene from the series you’d like to share?
This is from “Ready for a Storm”, the first in my Storm Series
The sound of raucous laughter awakened Ava from her afternoon nap. She rolled out of bed and aimed for the ensuite. She wanted to ensure she looked at least semi-presentable for whatever, or rather, whoever lurked in her kitchen. A glance in the mirror revealed tousled hair and pillow crease impressions on her cheek. Taking a hair clip, she secured her long mane in a quick updo and proceeded to massage her cheek to a satisfactory condition. She smoothed her olive green off-the-shoulder long-sleeve short set, took a calming breath, then advanced toward the commotion.
As she closed the short distance down the hall toward the kitchen, her vantage point afforded her a surprising view. Somehow, while she slept, her kitchen had been transformed into a staging area for an MMA event. Three hulking men, dressed all in black, now stood around her island. Clad in muscle-fit tee shirts, with arms that would make the reigning Mr. Universe stew with envy, their presence unbefitting of her home, they appeared at ease. Ava noticed her island quartz now displayed several snack platters; a touch she was sure was Grayson’s doing. The man knew how to entertain. She crept forward and spied her brother. Looking amusingly out of place in his dress pants and button-down shirt, he engaged in conversation with the kitchen misfits and appeared to be having a grand time. Ava caught some chatter about a door getting kicked in and chickens, and then her kitchen erupted in boisterous laughter once again.
Deciding she was nowhere near ready for this level of testosterone, she tiptoed in retreat down the hall toward her bedroom.
Three steps in, Brody’s booming voice called her out.
“Ah, look who’s finally awake!”
Damn! Ava felt her cheeks grow hot.
“Sis, come, let me introduce you to Brody’s friends!” Grayson called out.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ava pulled her shoulders back and exhaled, then completed her journey to the kitchen, where three new sets of eyes locked onto her.
“Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my sister, Ava.” Grayson’s lips spread into a proud grin.
Driven by habit, Ava offered her go-to camera smile. “Hello. Thank you all for coming.”
“Brody, would you do the honors?” Grayson asked, gesturing to their guests.
“With pleasure.” Brody pointed his hand toward the first addition. “This is Scotch, retired Royal Marines sniper, and the biggest ego you’ll find here.”
“True dat. Nice to meet you, lass.”
“Hello.” Ava extended a gracious smile as she proffered her hand; his enveloping hers as they shook. He greeted her with sparkling emerald eyes, a mischievous smile, and a deep Scottish accent. Standing at six-foot-three, he was the shortest of Brody’s crew, but not by much. His black t-shirt struggled to contain his broad, muscular frame, revealing several splashes of colorful ink across his biceps. Shaggy ginger hair, which looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in months, and an unkempt beard, took her by surprise. Then again, the past twenty-four hours had been filled with surprises.
Brody inclined his head toward the middle guest. “This is Redge.”
Ava once again proffered her hand and greeted the titan in front of her with a smile.
“Miss Ellis.” Redge nodded. His sable eyes stared into hers as he reached for her hand, cloaking it from view. Yet another surprise, as Ava expected a European inflection, but Redge’s baritone voice featured an American accent. Standing at six-foot-seven, and half as wide, with flawless ebony skin and a clean-shaven head, he made for an astounding presence.
“Redge is former Navy SEAL and hands down the best dancer in the group,” Brody continued.
“Hey, mate, I take offense to that.” Scotch glared at Brody.
“You wouldn’t if you saw yourself dance,” Brody delivered with a roguish grin.
“Last but certainly not least, this is Mace, who’ll serve as alpha.” Brody gestured to the remaining guest. “Retired British special ops and the best marksman of us all.”
Redge narrowed his eyes at Brody. “Now I’m offended.”
“Don’t be. He’s older and had more time to practice.” Brody grinned.
Ava scanned the marvel standing before her, then extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Steel blue eyes locked onto hers as he clasped her hand in a firm yet gentle shake.
“Likewise.” Mace spoke with a bassy British accent that was soft and warm, not brusque like she anticipated. Dark, shaggy crewcut hair, with hints of silver throughout, framed his sculpted face, finished off by a few days of beard growth. His fitted shirt suggested he, too, grappled with finding clothes to accommodate his massive chest and six-foot-five-inch frame.
With difficulty, Ava diverted her gaze and turned to address the group. “Thank you all for coming so quickly. I truly appreciate your willingness to help.”
“Happy to.” Scotch’s voice boomed as he shoved an air-fried mozzarella stick in his mouth.
Intrigue settled over Ava as she observed the five of them breathe life back into her kitchen. Despite their made-her-heart-flutter accents, the foreign commandos’ Americanized dialect astonished her. But so did their pervasive testosterone and hearty laughter. What in the world has Gray gotten me into?
What’s next?
Another sweet and spicy romance sprinkled with suspense, of course! I’m planning a standalone series set in northern Michigan.
Any upcoming events where readers can find you?
I will be a featured author at Chateau Chantal in Traverse City on October 25th, as well as Right Brain Brewery (also in Traverse City) on December 5th.
You can learn more about Josephine at her website.
You can order your copies at the links below.
Music
Marvin Gaye
Marvin Gaye's hits are frequently playing on whatever streaming service I happen to be listening to.
Many refer to him as the Prince of Motown. He had over 40 songs that were in the national top 40 listings during his career.
Gaye was known for blending rhythm and blues with soul as a popular singer. He was also a songwriter, musician and record producer. He is considered one of the greatest singers of all time.
His awards include multiple Grammys, induction into the National R&B Hall of Fame, the Songwriter's Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Here's my top five favorites from Marvin Gaye.
I Heard it Through the Grapevine: https://youtu.be/5ZnrZnFSlWU?si=Nio000jszkYFgA92
What's Going On: https://youtu.be/H-kA3UtBj4M?si=WoY6JYACx2DUe2eE
Got to Give It Up: https://youtu.be/jkCUWNbTiA4?si=h30lvWaoNF2YRta7
Let's Get It On: https://youtu.be/9vAiESu5wrA?si=j5Lk1XElZ98_t3ZD
Sexual Healing: https://youtu.be/rjlSiASsUIs?si=Bfgny19NqxhDZDoc
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