Cozy Covers

If you’ve ever experienced the frostiness of winter, you can appreciate the coziness that the photo in this post generates. It’s no wonder that on this snowy January day I’m bundled in a warm comforter while I tap away on my keyboard.

I have news: I’m working on Book 4 in the Megan Scott/Michael Elliott Mystery series. It will include the usual murder (or murders), suspects, witnesses, and whatever else I decide to throw into the “plot” to spice up the storyline. More on this later!

In the meantime, I’d like to share a passage from Icy Silence that captures the mood of this latest mystery novel in the series. In it, Megan is a weekend guest at a private college school located miles from the nearest city. She describes the ice storm that has isolated her and everyone else on campus from the rest of the world.

“I gazed out the window to survey the damage. The icy silence on campus was deceiving. Tree branches had expanded with ice overnight and intertwined their frosty tentacles with those of neighboring trees. Sheets of ice had slid off rooftops and shattered into jagged shards on impact. The campus was strewn with broken branches and debris, a testament to the damage such a storm can inflict and to the challenges facing the school in days ahead. Even in the aftermath of a destructive path, the tempest showed no sign of abandoning its hold.”

Want to read more? Click here to find Icy Silence at your favorite online retailer.

Christmas Gratitude

Dear readers,

Writing is a lonely profession, but my interaction with readers makes it all worthwhile. In keeping with the spirit of the season, I’d like to thank you for connecting with me and with my books.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts through e-mails and at book-signing events. When you confide how my stories impelled you to continue reading late into the night, my heart fills with joy.

Thank you for leaving book reviews on retailer websites, Goodreads, Facebook, and other social media. Your encouraging feedback inspires me to dream up new mysteries for your reading pleasure.

Thank you for your patience while you wait for my next book in the series to be published. Your enduring interest in my work is the motivation that keeps me focused on my writing every day.

Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

With gratitude,

Sandra

Digging Up Emotions

The power had gone out in the building, and I was stuck in the elevator. Alone. In the dark. With no means of contacting anyone.

Voices from outside the elevator reached me. I pounded on the metal door and called out for help. My efforts must have startled a woman who, after voicing a string of religious expletives, replied that she’d go get the building manager right away.

Time dragged on. I wondered if more people were stuck in the other elevator cars. Why didn’t the building have emergency power to get passengers to the next floor during a power blackout? Was there enough air in the elevator for an hour or—heaven forbid—longer?

I thought of my family, my friends. I didn’t want to die. My heart beat faster. I reached into my handbag for a tissue and wiped the sweat from my brow. Relax, I told myself. Help is bound to arrive soon.

An hour passed before the elevator lit up and the doors slid open. I rushed out. No one was around to greet me or ask if I were okay, but I didn’t care. I was free. I flew down three flights of stairs to the lobby and dashed out into the fresh air.

My unnerving experience was not forgotten. I used the feelings it generated to write a chilling passage in my mystery novel, Icy Silence. It involves ghostwriter Megan Scott, one of my main characters. That’s all I’m going to say about it.

Enjoy the thrills!

Old Port of Montreal

Photo of Montreal, Canada: © Depositphotos.com/chrishomey

In my mystery novel, False Impressions, I mention numerous settings within the cosmopolitan city of Montreal, Quebec. The historic area of the city—Old Montreal—is one of them. The European charm of horse-drawn carriages along cobblestones streets, chic boutiques, and French restaurants—what’s not to love? It’s joie de vivre at its finest!

Equally popular with millions of visitors each year is the historic Old Port of Montreal. Located on the waterfront, it provides access for activities such as cycling, roller-blading, and peddle-boating. It is an important venue for festivals and cultural events, and offers cruises along the St. Lawrence River to celebrate any occasion.

The city is also home to the Cirque du Soleil, its striped blue-and-yellow tents a familiar sight on Jacques Cartier Quay in the Old Port. Other neighboring attractions include the Montreal Science Centre, the Clock Tower, and an urban beach.

It’s no wonder I chose the Old Port as the setting for my upcoming short story, “Timely Escape.” The marina bordering the Clock Tower Quay figures prominently in this tale involving my sleuths, ghostwriter Megan Scott and investigative journalist Michael Elliott. I can’t reveal more about the story except to say that my duo’s quest for justice involves two escaped convicts and a terrifying dilemma. Stay tuned!

If you haven’t yet met my sleuths, click on False Impressions and Fatal Whispers to find out more about their adventures in these first two books in the series.

Tommy's Park

One of the settings I mention in my mystery novel, Fatal Whispers, is Tommy’s Park. This patch of greenery and paved walkways is located at the corner of Middle Street and Exchange Street in the old district of Portland, Maine. The park has lots of benches where you can take a break from work or from shopping. And there’s a Starbucks Coffee shop just across the street.

My sleuths, ghostwriter Megan Scott and reporter Michael Elliott, meet for lunch one brisk autumn day in Tommy’s Park to exchange information gathered in an ongoing murder investigation. Megan only has half an hour before she returns to work at Bianca’s Gardens, a fictitious flower shop on Exchange Street.

A cool wind blows, but the coffee Michael purchased from Starbucks keeps their conversation going. Here’s an excerpt from Megan’s perspective:

The maple trees that had formed a protective barrier against the sun on warmer days were bare. Gusts of winds scattered foliage across a pedestrian path and into the street. I raised the collar of my wool jacket and wished I’d worn a heavier sweater underneath…

I sat down on the bench next to Michael, gave him a quick kiss, then handed him the printouts of the employee profiles from Bianca’s Gardens. “I feel like a thief.” 

“You shouldn’t,” he said. “You’re doing it for an honorable cause.”

Want to find out more? Click here for a description of Fatal Whispers and links to online retailers.