I'd like to share one of my favorite songs of the season...https://youtu.be/ifCWN5pJGIE?si=QncjRfUoMCHtHiIf
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That's a good question. I'm still writing but health and family issues have left little time for anything else the past year. I'm not certain when or if I'll resume the author interviews, but I will keep you posted. Speaking of posting, I have migrated to Bluesky and rarely check my old twitter accounts. You can find me at JL Buck @Bluesky. Have a terrific holiday!   Welcome to Matter of Inquiry! Please join me in welcoming guest author Kate Michaelson, featuring her debut mystery novel, HIDDEN ROOMS. It's nice to meet you Kate. Please tell us something about yourself.  Bio: Kate Michaelson’s first novel, HIDDEN ROOMS, won the 2022 Hugh Holton Award for best unpublished mystery by a Midwest writer, and it was published by CamCat books in April 2024. She holds an MFA in poetry and a PhD in Educational Psychology and has published articles, short stories, and poetry in journals such as The Laurel Review and River Teeth. In her free time, she loves anything that takes her outdoors and away from her laptop. She lives in Toledo, Ohio with her husband and their pets. Something unusual/unique about you: "I inherited my love of books from my mom. Some of my favorite memories are of her reading to me before bed and then taking me to the library. I remember being almost overwhelmed by the selection of books at the library, and she told me to try a mystery. Little did she know what she was starting!" Author Contacts: Email: kate.michaelson.writer@gmail.com Instagram: @katemichaelsonwriter Twitter: @katemichaelson3 Website: www.katemichaelson.om INTERVIEW: JLB: What inspired your featured book or series? KM: Many of my own experiences inspired Hidden Rooms. After years of working to find a diagnosis and treatment for my own chronic illness, I realized that dealing with a poorly understood condition is a lot like solving a mystery. This experience and my love of writing inspired me to write a mystery in which the protagonist investigates a murder while looking for answers to her own bewildering symptoms. My hope was to write a page-turner that also validates the real-life experiences of people struggling with undiagnosed or hard-to-treat chronic conditions. JLB: What is the easiest—or the hardest—part of writing for you? KM: The hardest part of writing for me is going from a very rough draft to a coherent second draft. My first draft is such a mess that I have to overcome my shame at having written it, all while trying to summon confidence in my ability to make it better. The easier part comes later on when the plot is fairly well set, and I can really dig into the language and details. JLB: Do you use beta readers prior to submitting you manuscript to a publisher? How do you select them? What do you expect them to tell you? KM: I do use beta readers. As a relatively new writer, it’s difficult for me to know if a story is working until I learn how a reader responds to it. I realize that readers’ responses are subjective, but if I hear the same feedback from multiple readers, I know I need to listen. I’m a member of a mystery book club and was lucky to have a few readers volunteer from there. I asked them to point out issues with logic and places where they felt bored, but I welcomed any feedback. JLB: As a reader, where do you go to find a new book to read? A friend, google search, browsing a brick-and-mortar bookstore? KM: I’m in a few book clubs and always get recommendations from my other writing friends, so I never find myself without something waiting for me on my to-be-read list. I also try to read mysteries that have been nominated for awards like the Edgars and Agathas. Reading books by some of the best writers in my genre inspires me and reminds me how much I have to learn. JLB: What is your next writing project? Anticipated release date? KM: My next book is called Resting Sad Face. It follows a professional mourner working in Sarasota, Florida who gets drawn into the suspicious death of a powerful real estate developer. I’m also working on a sequel to Hidden Rooms called In the Bones. It begins with the discovery of skeletal remains in a farm field and centers on Riley’s search for a childhood friend who disappeared long ago. JLB: Which of the trivia questions did you pick to answer? KM: See below -
JLB: I have enjoyed chatting with you, Kate. As we finish up, please tell us about your book!  HIDDEN ROOMS Genre: traditional mystery You can run fast. You can run far. But you can’t outrun family. Long-distance runner, Riley, has been fighting various bewildering symptoms for months, from vertigo to fainting spells. Worse, her doctors can’t tell her what’s wrong, leaving her to wonder if it’s stress or something more threatening. But when her brother’s fiancée is killed—and he becomes the prime suspect—Riley must prove his innocence, despite the toll on her health. As she reacquaints herself with the familiar houses and wild woods of her childhood, the secrets she uncovers take her on a trail to the real killer that leads right back to the very people she knows best and loves most. Buy links: Amazon, Gathering Volumes, and Bookshop.org Excerpt from Hidden Rooms: Late September 2022 I grew up inside a lightning bolt, in a family of pure momentum. My siblings and I were young, stupid, and fearless in our white gingerbread house, surrounded by dark earth, green shoots, and wild woods—untamed beasts running loose from morning to night. We snarled and bucked, more a pack than a family. Born less than a year apart, my brother Ethan and I spent most of our lives scrapping after the same few things, pinching each other where we knew it would hurt the most. But we also protected each other. When Trevor Paltree shoved Ethan off the metal slide the first day of preschool, I kicked Trevor’s little ass, and I’d do it again. Only, now, I didn’t know what protecting my brother looked like, though I felt fairly certain that kicking his fiancée’s ass was not it. Besides, I couldn’t even say what exactly Beth was up to, which (admittedly) undermined my argument. Putting my head down and going along with the wedding might feel cowardly, but it also seemed like the least destructive path forward. So, that’s how I found myself pulling up to Ethan and Beth’s house to pick up my puce monstrosity of a bridesmaid’s dress with Beth’s recent words still replaying in my mind. “Riley, you know I’d never do anything to hurt Ethan.” The problem was that she also once said with a wink and a smile that what Ethan didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. I parked in the shade of a low-limbed oak and got out, lifting my hair off my neck to catch the breeze. The autumn sun had built throughout the afternoon into the kind of fleetingly gorgeous day that makes up for Ohio’s multitude of weather sins: one last warm postscript to summer. Rain loomed in the low shelf of clouds to the north. I crossed my fingers that it would hold off until I could get home to walk Bruno. Maybe I could even get a run in if my energy held out. My phone buzzed, and I knew without looking it would be Audra. She called most days and knew that the previous night, I’d finally worked up the nerve to talk with Ethan about Beth. She would want the details. I was amazed she had waited this long. “How’d it go with Ethan?” Her melodious voice skipped along briskly. People usually went with what she said simply because they were so swept with how she said it. As her sister, I was an exception. “Hello to you too.” I continued toward the house but slowed my pace. “I’ll give you one guess.” “Hello, dearest Riley. I guess he got mad.” “Not just mad. He guilt-tripped me. I asked if he’d noticed anything wrong with Beth and he acted all injured about it. He told me, ‘she thinks you’re her friend.’” I mimicked Ethan’s self-righteous tone. The jab still stung. “I told him I think of her as a friend too, which is how I know she’s hiding something.” Admittedly, I couldn’t untangle what it was. It was something I sensed more than saw—a shift in posture or flicker behind an expression. The past few weeks she’d become more self-contained than ever, which was saying something for her. “Yeah, but can you really be friends with someone who has no personality? It’s like being friends with a mannequin. I don’t know how you can tell if she’s hiding something when she never shares—” “Look, I can’t talk about it now.” I lowered my voice as I neared the house. “I’m at their place getting my dress. Call you later.” As I climbed the porch steps, the front of their house looked so Instagram-perfect that I wondered whether I’d been seeing problems that weren’t there. The afternoon light slanted across pumpkins and yellow chrysanthemums that Beth had arranged just so. Dried bundles of corn rattled in the breeze. Careful not to disturb a precarious wreath of orange berries, I knocked on the door and tapped my foot, ready to grab my puffy dress and go. When no one answered, I rapped once more and tried the handle. Unlocked. This was not unusual in a town where nobody locked their doors, but Beth wasn’t from here. She’d moved to North Haven her senior year of high school and, thus, hadn’t lived here long enough for people to think of her as a local. But, to be fair, that usually took a lifetime. {End of excerpt} Coming July 9, 2024 England, summer of 1813. Lady Anne Ashburn and her father are at Seaford, a seaside resort, recovering from her mother’s death. When the earl is called to Parliament in London, Anne becomes bored and explores nearby Singing Cave. Her maid is telling her tales of smugglers and the ghost who haunts the cave when they discover the body of a dead woman. By the time authorities go there, the body is gone, and no one believes Lady Anne. When her own attempts to discover the woman’s identity are hindered by the local magistrate’s disparaging remarks, she reaches out to Lord Ware. Lucien, Viscount Ware, and his fellow agent Andrew Sherbourne are engaged in a secret inquiry for the Crown, hunting for a kidnapped young woman whose father is being forced to spy for France to keep her alive. Lucien would have gone to Seaford just to see Anne, but he and Sherbourne find it an odd coincidence that she has found a young woman…and they are looking for one. What Lucien learns in Seaford nearly gets him killed and leads him and Lady Anne back to London. Another murder, a bounty on Lucien’s head, a perilous ride in the park, an ambush, a mysterious note, and a very slippery French spy keep Lucien and Lady Anne busy searching for answers—and determined to catch a traitorous murderer before he gets away. Previous titles in this series (available now): The Dead Betray None (A Viscount Ware Mystery #1) The Dead Cannot Hide (A Viscount Ware Mystery #2) The Dead Came Calling (A Viscount Ware Mystery #3 Welcome to Matter of Inquiry! This week’s guest is S.A. Kazlo, the author of the Samantha Davies cozy mystery series. Good morning, Syrl! Let us begin with some information about your background.  About the Author: Syrl, a retired teacher, lives in upstate New York with her husband and two lively dachshunds. She writes the Samantha Davies Mystery series, featuring Samantha Davies and her loveable dachshund, Porkchop. When not writing she is busy hooking, rug hooking that is, and enjoying her family. Her newest book, number five in the series is, Chilled to the Dog Bone. Author links: FB- S A Kazlo Twitter- @sakazlo Instagram-@sakazlo LInkedin-sakazlo website- Home |Samantha Davies Mystery www.sakazlo.com INTERVIEW: JLB: What is the hardest part of writing for you? SAK: Like a lot of authors, it is the marketing. Wouldn't it be lovely if all an author had to do was pen their fabulous works and people would flock to buy them? Guess I can always dream. JLB: Do people you know ever sneak into your writing? SAK: Oh, my yes. I go to the gym a few mornings a week and a gentleman I know said while I was on the recumbent bike that his wife really liked my series. I was very flattered and asked him if she'd like to be in my next novel. He beamed and said. "Yes." I asked, "As the victim or murderer?" His reply, "She's put up with me all these years, definitely the murderer." So, murderer she will be. She's not the only one who's asked to be the murderer in one of my books. You never know what someone's wildest fantasies are or maybe I should be wary of the friends I keep. JLB: Do you write with or without an outline? SAK: My first book, Kibbles and Death, I wrote from an outline, but now my characters have taken over my imagination and won't let go so they pour forth their two cents onto my computer whether I like it or not. JLB: Authors live or die by reviews, but do you read them? SAK: Yes, I do read reviews of my books. I am honored to have someone write a review and feel I should take the time and read them. Luckily, most of them have been particularly good and encouraging. On the few occasions some one has left one not so stellar I've learned from them, too. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. JLB: What is your next book, and how soon can readers get it? SAK: My next writing project is Mistletoe, Mutts and Murder, book 6 in my Samantha Davies Mystery series. This one is set at Christmas time. Sam's parents have flown North from sunny Florida to spend the holidays with her. Unfortunately, murder has come to town, too. I expect it to be released in November 2024. JLB: Which of the trivia questions did you chose? SAK: Here they are--
JLB: It’s been a pleasure to talk with you, Syrl. Before we wind up this interview, we are all eager to hear about Chilled to the Dog Bone!  Chilled to the Dog Bone (Samantha Davies Mystery #5) Genre: cozy mystery It's Saint Patrick's Day weekend in chilly upstate New York, and Samantha Davies, children's picture book author and sometime sleuth, is excited to attend the annual outdoors games put on by the local Wings Falls fire company. It will be a weekend filled with fun activities such as a skillet toss, four-wheeler race, and the ever-popular decorated wooden outhouse race across the ice. Sam is looking forward to dancing the night away with her beau, police detective Hank Johnson at the Firefighter's Ball. Sam's rug hooking group, the Loopy Ladies is sponsoring one of the outhouses and their senior member, Gladys O'Malley, will have the honor of riding on the "throne" to the finish line. Only not all goes as planned when the neighboring fire company's chief is found in Gladys' place—frozen solid and dead as a doornail! To make matters worse, both Gladys' and Sam's fingerprints are all over the evidence at the murder scene, taking them from attendees to suspects. Now it's up to Sam to clear their names and get to the truth. The only problem is the victim had disagreements with almost everyone in town, from the Wings Falls fire chief to a sexy blonde named Sunny Foxx—with two xx's—and a slew of other suspects. Can Sam find the killer before the Luck of the Irish runs out for her? Or will she become chilled to the bone when the killer catches up to her... Buy Links: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Chilled-Bone-Samantha-Davies-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0CP8P9R37 Excerpt: CHAPTER ONE "How do I look? Should I wear a crown?" Gladys O'Malley, the senior member of my rug hooking group, the Loopy Ladies, sat on her "throne" in the outhouse we were sponsoring. The outhouse race would take place on Sunday morning. This weekend, the Firemen's Convention was being held at the Civic Center in Lake George, a resort town in upstate New York. My local fire company, Wings Falls Fire Department, was the host. It was held annually as close to Saint Patrick's Day as possible. Fun and green beer abounded. All the local fire companies who attended entered a homemade outhouse, decorated by a local group, like the Loopy Ladies, who'd volunteered to sponsor this year's outhouse for our hometown fire company. We often lent our services and talents to worthy causes. This past fall, we sold small rugs we hooked to raise money for Camp Adirondack, a summer camp that invites kids from the inner city for two weeks of fun in the fresh mountain air. I stomped my feet. Even though I wore my warmest fleece-lined boots and a pair of heavy wool socks, cold seeped through from the cement floor of my garage. A space heater blasted out warm air but barely made a dent in the freezing March air flowing into the drafty garage. I glanced at my cousin, Candie, and noticed her tugging a purple wool cap over her ears to stave off the cold air. I envied my dachshund, Porkchop, Candie's calico cat, Dixie, and the newest member of her family, Annie, a small dog of indeterminate breed, snuggled on the rug next to the fireplace in my living room. Helen Garber poked at the bright-orange glasses sliding down her nose. "Haul your skinny old butt out of there and help us finish hanging the rugs we hooked on the wall of the outhouse, so we can get out of this blooming cold." I rolled my eyes towards the rafters of my garage. Leave it to Helen to pick a fight with Gladys. She was the most outspoken member of the group. Her tongue knew no boundaries. She often said she "told it like it is." Not only did her tongue know no boundaries, but neither did her wardrobe choice. The louder and bolder the color, the better. Today her ample figure sported a lemon yellow jacket she paired with hot pink pull-on polyester slacks. I walked over to the outhouse and admired our handiwork. We had painted green shamrocks over a white background in honor of Saint Patrick's Day on the outside walls. Candie stood next to me. "Not a bad painting job, don't y'all think?" I smiled. My cousin had moved north over fifteen years ago from Hainted Holler, Tennessee, and you could still cut her thick southern accent with a knife. "We Loopy Ladies are a multi-talented group. Not only can we hook with the best of them, but we wield a mean paintbrush, too." I turned to the six of us who were gathered in my garage. "Don't you agree, ladies? Our outhouse will leave the others in the dust." Cheers erupted from my fellow hookers. There are usually twelve of us who gather every Monday morning at our friend Lucy Foster's rug hooking studio. Although our absent members were busy elsewhere, everyone had contributed a rug to decorate the outhouse. Susan Mayfield clapped her hands to get our attention. "We'd better finish hanging our rugs. Hank, Mark, and Brian will be here shortly to lift the outhouse onto the back of Brian's truck. They need to drive it to the staging area for the race on Sunday morning." Susan and her husband, Brian, own Momma Mia's, which I believe is the best Italian restaurant this side of the Big Apple. Brian had volunteered his truck for transporting our outhouse to the race's starting area, a park next to the Civic Center. Watch for Lucien and Lady Anne's next adventure, The Dead Sang Off Key, in time for your summer read! Lady Anne has a big role to play this time. I'll post the cover as soon as I see it!  Welcome to Matter of Inquiry! This week we're spotlighting a Romantic Paranormal Suspense novel by Mary McFarland. Lila's Ghostly Obsession is a brand new release!  Lila’s Ghostly Obsession Genre: Romantic Suspense/Paranormal PG-13 Even in death, I feel Link’s love. Achingly sweet and intense. “It’s for keeps,” I used to tell him, my lips as close to his—as my soul was to eternity, although I’d no idea just how close. “It’s forever.” So when I awaken dead, I’ve no choice: I must haunt him. That, or watch from my grave while Marin Vegas steals Link. But first, acceptance: I’m a ghost. While my murder seems cruel, I’m no longer that young girl in love and running toward my fate—but from it. Yet fading into black eternity spurs me to a level of courage I never dreamed I had while alive. So, in this foreboding world I now inhabit, my fight to hold on to the love that Link and I promised each other and now leads me straight to the thugs who put me here—and to a truth we’d planned to share. It’s a truth I hold onto tight: Love never dies. Can my plan to keep Link’s love succeed from the grave? Can we hook up one last bittersweet time? Maybe. But only if the dead can speak to the living. So: how do I do that? If Edgar Allan Poe were to rewrite Annabel Lee as a novel, it would read like Lila’s Ghostly Obsession. It’s darkly poignant, a perfect read for fans of ghost thrillers and paranormal romance novels like Wendy Webb’s The Haunting of Brynn Wilder, Julia Ash’s Mystified, and Stacy McKitrick’s Ghostly Liaison. Amazon buy link: https://www.amazon.com/Lilas-Ghostly-Obsession-Never-Thriller/dp/B0CKPHPCWS/  About the Author: A thriller author and techpreneur, I live insanely—by choice—in both worlds. I started writing as a girl, when Mom shooed me outside with some sidewalk chalk and said, “Go do something!” I did. A Romance Writers of America Golden Pen award winner (romantic suspense), I’m published in both the novel and short story form. I write fulltime at my beloved Mucky Manor, an organic herb farm in southern Ohio, and I also serve as CEO of Red Girl Digital Media LLC, a tech startup designing apps and educational media serving authors. A recent honor, of which I’m proud, includes presenting a master class on book marketing at Killer Nashville, where I’m on the faculty and also write articles for the Killer Nashville Magazine. I’m a member of Ohio Writer’s Association, West Virginia Writers, and River Valley Writers (RVW). Something Unique/Unusual Not in My Regular Bio: “I’m a wine vintner specializing in making tomato wine, and I collect antique wine recipes from all over the world. Yes, I like a glass or two now and then.” You can find me at: www.marymcfarlandbooks.com www.redgirldigitalmedia.com www.facebook.com/authormarymcfarland.author Don't miss Mary McFarland's interview on my Ally Shield's blog: |
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SERIES BLURB:
One autumn afternoon changed everything! James Fitzgerald is looking forward to a relaxing weekend with friends. Instead he walks into a blood bath, and a cryptic message points to him as the killer.
The Unintended Consequences Trilogy follows James and his budding romance with his neighbor, Carrie through three complete mysteries. In Payback, both James and Carrie are fighting their attraction to each other, while trying to solve the murder of James’s best friend and her husband, and stop the killer from taking more lives.
In Backlash, Carrie’s teenage son tracks her down and leads her abusive estranged husband right to her, along with some other deadly baggage.
In Backfire, when James and Carrie’s shy friend, Mary starts dating again after a messy divorce, she’s assaulted by a masked man who smells of her first date’s aftershave. As James tries to help her identify and find her attacker, he struggles with the legacy of the murder of his best friend—a rescuer complex that threatens to drive a permanent wedge between himself and Carrie.
Links to purchase the trilogy can be found at:
Payback: https://misteriopress.com/bookstore/payback/
Backlash: https://misteriopress.com/bookstore/backlash/
Backfire: https://misteriopress.com/bookstore/backfire/
One autumn afternoon changed everything! James Fitzgerald is looking forward to a relaxing weekend with friends. Instead he walks into a blood bath, and a cryptic message points to him as the killer.
The Unintended Consequences Trilogy follows James and his budding romance with his neighbor, Carrie through three complete mysteries. In Payback, both James and Carrie are fighting their attraction to each other, while trying to solve the murder of James’s best friend and her husband, and stop the killer from taking more lives.
In Backlash, Carrie’s teenage son tracks her down and leads her abusive estranged husband right to her, along with some other deadly baggage.
In Backfire, when James and Carrie’s shy friend, Mary starts dating again after a messy divorce, she’s assaulted by a masked man who smells of her first date’s aftershave. As James tries to help her identify and find her attacker, he struggles with the legacy of the murder of his best friend—a rescuer complex that threatens to drive a permanent wedge between himself and Carrie.
Links to purchase the trilogy can be found at:
Payback: https://misteriopress.com/bookstore/payback/
Backlash: https://misteriopress.com/bookstore/backlash/
Backfire: https://misteriopress.com/bookstore/backfire/
EXCERPT from Backlash, Book 2 in the Unintended Consequences Romantic Suspense Trilogy
CHAPTER ONE
Carrie
For the half-second before the dog reacted, I assumed the person ringing the doorbell was James, arriving for dinner.
Then Ginger went ballistic.
Heart pounding, I power-walked into the living room, trying to convince myself that Greg hadn’t found me, that it wasn’t him at the door.
I really had to get a handle on my fear. This was no way to live.
The doorbell rang again and Ginger raced ahead of me to sniff the crack at the bottom of the door. Another burst of ear-splitting barks bounced off the walls.
Definitely not James. He only rang the bell once before using his own key.
My chest so tight I could hardly breathe, I looked through the door’s peephole. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a scream.
Wait! Greg’s features, yes, and brown hair like his, but… The face was younger, with dark stubble on boyish cheeks and wide eyes staring back at me—the same sky blue as my own.
I fumbled with the locks and threw the door open. “Philly!”
He grinned, then ducked his head a little. “Hi, Mom.”
***
James
My mind was elsewhere, on the auditions I had lined up over the next week. It was always nerve-racking to be between plays. I rounded the front corner of the old farmhouse and stopped cold, trying to process the scene before me.
Carrie didn’t know any local men well enough to be hugging them. Therefore, this man was from her past, which did not bode well, despite the hug.
My stomach hollowed out.
Was this Greg? Was she the type of woman who ran back into her ex’s arms the minute he was kind to her?
I felt nauseous.
Ginger shoved past Carrie’s leg and trotted over to me. I absently patted the golden retriever’s head as I watched Carrie and the man step apart.
No, more a boy. My insides unknotted some, but my heart hammered harder. Not Greg, but still not good.
“Look at you,” Carrie said to the boy, a big smile on her face.
I stepped up onto the end of the long front porch, my footsteps dull thuds on the wooden floorboards.
The kid startled and pivoted to put himself between me and Carrie, a reflexive move that should not be instinctive in a teenage boy.
He was almost as tall as me, already five-ten, but slender. His blue eyes, so like Carrie’s, were wide in a boy-man face.
Carrie waved for me to approach. “James, this is my son. Phillip, this is my neighbor and friend, James Fitzgerald.”
The son, at this point, didn’t surprise me, but the friend did a little. We were a hell of a lot more than friends.
But hey, it’s her kid. I’ll follow her lead. I stuck out my hand. “Pleased to meet you, Phillip.”
I used the handshake to turn him toward the open front door and began herding them inside. “Best not to be standing around out here,” I said without thinking.
Carrie’s delighted expression deflated like a popped balloon, and I felt like a heel. I could’ve let her enjoy her reunion with her son a few minutes longer before reminding her of the threat that reunion represented.
Once we were all inside, Carrie laid a palm against Phillip’s cheek. “I can’t believe it. You’re shaving.”
His cheeks turned pink under the smattering of dark hairs. “This started a few weeks ago…” He trailed off, his expression part pleased, part sheepish.
“Hey,” I said, “you two catch up for a few minutes.” I slipped back outside, locking the door behind me.
I scanned the stretches of grass on either side of the gravel lane leading down to Carrie’s and my houses. They were beginning to green up after a long winter.
Then I moved my gaze to the woods up by the main road. No signs of movement and no sounds that didn’t belong. A cool breeze carried the scent of damp earth. I headed across our lawns to my own front porch.
A few minutes later, carrying a small paper bag of shaving supplies, I let myself in Carrie’s door with my key.
She and Phillip were sitting in the middle of the living room sofa, their heads bent together. The boy was chattering away—something about school—his voice cracking a bit.
She looked so damned happy that I couldn’t help smiling, even though the implications of his presence were terrifying.
CHAPTER ONE
Carrie
For the half-second before the dog reacted, I assumed the person ringing the doorbell was James, arriving for dinner.
Then Ginger went ballistic.
Heart pounding, I power-walked into the living room, trying to convince myself that Greg hadn’t found me, that it wasn’t him at the door.
I really had to get a handle on my fear. This was no way to live.
The doorbell rang again and Ginger raced ahead of me to sniff the crack at the bottom of the door. Another burst of ear-splitting barks bounced off the walls.
Definitely not James. He only rang the bell once before using his own key.
My chest so tight I could hardly breathe, I looked through the door’s peephole. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a scream.
Wait! Greg’s features, yes, and brown hair like his, but… The face was younger, with dark stubble on boyish cheeks and wide eyes staring back at me—the same sky blue as my own.
I fumbled with the locks and threw the door open. “Philly!”
He grinned, then ducked his head a little. “Hi, Mom.”
***
James
My mind was elsewhere, on the auditions I had lined up over the next week. It was always nerve-racking to be between plays. I rounded the front corner of the old farmhouse and stopped cold, trying to process the scene before me.
Carrie didn’t know any local men well enough to be hugging them. Therefore, this man was from her past, which did not bode well, despite the hug.
My stomach hollowed out.
Was this Greg? Was she the type of woman who ran back into her ex’s arms the minute he was kind to her?
I felt nauseous.
Ginger shoved past Carrie’s leg and trotted over to me. I absently patted the golden retriever’s head as I watched Carrie and the man step apart.
No, more a boy. My insides unknotted some, but my heart hammered harder. Not Greg, but still not good.
“Look at you,” Carrie said to the boy, a big smile on her face.
I stepped up onto the end of the long front porch, my footsteps dull thuds on the wooden floorboards.
The kid startled and pivoted to put himself between me and Carrie, a reflexive move that should not be instinctive in a teenage boy.
He was almost as tall as me, already five-ten, but slender. His blue eyes, so like Carrie’s, were wide in a boy-man face.
Carrie waved for me to approach. “James, this is my son. Phillip, this is my neighbor and friend, James Fitzgerald.”
The son, at this point, didn’t surprise me, but the friend did a little. We were a hell of a lot more than friends.
But hey, it’s her kid. I’ll follow her lead. I stuck out my hand. “Pleased to meet you, Phillip.”
I used the handshake to turn him toward the open front door and began herding them inside. “Best not to be standing around out here,” I said without thinking.
Carrie’s delighted expression deflated like a popped balloon, and I felt like a heel. I could’ve let her enjoy her reunion with her son a few minutes longer before reminding her of the threat that reunion represented.
Once we were all inside, Carrie laid a palm against Phillip’s cheek. “I can’t believe it. You’re shaving.”
His cheeks turned pink under the smattering of dark hairs. “This started a few weeks ago…” He trailed off, his expression part pleased, part sheepish.
“Hey,” I said, “you two catch up for a few minutes.” I slipped back outside, locking the door behind me.
I scanned the stretches of grass on either side of the gravel lane leading down to Carrie’s and my houses. They were beginning to green up after a long winter.
Then I moved my gaze to the woods up by the main road. No signs of movement and no sounds that didn’t belong. A cool breeze carried the scent of damp earth. I headed across our lawns to my own front porch.
A few minutes later, carrying a small paper bag of shaving supplies, I let myself in Carrie’s door with my key.
She and Phillip were sitting in the middle of the living room sofa, their heads bent together. The boy was chattering away—something about school—his voice cracking a bit.
She looked so damned happy that I couldn’t help smiling, even though the implications of his presence were terrifying.
Author
J L Buck writes in the mystery genre, currenty enthralled with Regency-era England. She is multi-published in paranormal
/fantasy under the pen name of Ally Shields.
Check out my profile on AllAuthor (including my Ally Shields fantasy books). Here you can read my books' sample chapters, get updates on my books and latest deals, ask me questions, discuss my books and much more. Follow me on AllAuthor.
https://allauthor.com/author/jlbuck/
https://allauthor.com/author/jlbuck/
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