Writers write books so that they can sell books, at least that’s the obvious conclusion most people draw. Actually, I write books to entertain people, make them laugh and lift them up out of the daily routine. Murder is up-lifting? Depends on how you look at it. I like to concentrate on good verses evil as Josephine puts miles on her truck andannoys her suspects until they cry “uncle” and fess-up.
Tomorrow I am trying something different, not dangerous or dopey, just different. Amazon Kindle will be giving away my newest book, Beetles in the Boxcar. I had fun writing this one. Four different love stories blossom as murder and chaos are happening all around Josephine and her Aunt Clara.
Solow hopes you will take advantage of this special “free book”offer between Wednesday, November 13th and Sunday, November 17th, read the book and get hooked on the Josephine Stuart Mystery series. Nothing bad will happen to you if you start with the last book first and the first book last. But if you really are a "first to last" kind of person--you need to start with Secure the Ranch and work your way up to Beetles in the Boxcar.
I slept soundly for a couple hours Sunday morning after a night of tossing and turning. Feeling a lick on my cheek and whiskers tickling my chin, my eyes reluctantly opened. I looked into Solow’s droopy and permanently bloodshot peepers.
He whined impatiently.
“Need to go out?” I pulled on my robe, stepped into slippers and trudged down the hall to the kitchen. As I let Solow out the back door, I heard the rustle of paper.
Clara sat at the kitchen table flipping through the phone book, her reading glasses perched on the lower half of her nose. She looked up and smiled.
“Morning, Auntie. What are you doing?”
“I’m working on a bus schedule and I just finished looking up the Gianelli boys and their addresses. I pondered Joey’s death all night and came up with one idea … murder. It’s the only explanation. I sort of finished off your ice cream while I pondered.”
We were a lot alike, my aunt and I, including the extra fifteen pounds we each carried around. Thankfully my pounds were twenty-five years younger and firmer than hers.
“I understand, Aunt Clara. I came to the same conclusion. Very unsettling, but ice cream always helps to sooth my nerves. What flavor of ice cream would you like me to buy?”