Family Involvement in Your Writing

I’m thrilled to be posting my first blog to Not Your Usual Suspects, and to join this “suspenseful” group of writers. Thanks for the invite. Now to the question of the day.

Should your family become involved in your writing? Some say they post a message on their office door warning not to be disturbed except in cases of blood or fire. No one in the household reads their stories until they appear online or on the shelf. On the other hand, I know of authors whose spouses cook dinner, help with research, and do many technical/online tasks. So, how involved should your family be in your writing?

It depends, of course, on your level of trust, time to train said family members, where you are in your life, and, of course, any experience they bring to the table. I started writing novels after my sister announced her first sale. At that time, my family moved and I decided not to take a job. Instead, I volunteered at my son’s school (actually to help him out, but shhh, don’t tell him) and wrote. I’ll admit that having a fellow writer in the family helped motivate me, but she was just starting out, too, and we both had much to learn. I wrote a lot before asking anyone in the family for help. After all, why should an educated (science) person like me, who had been writing various type things her entire life, need help? Boy, did I have a lot to learn.

My sister read my early manuscripts and being the loving person she is, was kind with her comments. She suggested things to work on and let me progress. The more improvement I showed, the more in-depth her critiques became. Now we read each other’s work and don’t hold back the punches. Then there is my mother we call the grammar queen. Can anyone say bleeding pages? She worked with a red pen for years and has recently progressed to Track Changes. Dad is a final proofreader. My brother and his wife once read an early manuscript and pointed out research things I’d missed, like it’s not stealthy to flip a rowboat at night with oars stowed inside. They later picked the topic of a paranormal series I wrote with my sister, and since have become great brainstormers.

Hubby was another animal all together. While VERY supportive of my writing, in the early years he didn’t quite “get” how to help. He’d read things I wrote and say it seemed okay to him. I’d have to quiz him to find the weaknesses. When I’d ask for suggestions, he’d give me one and then get offended, as though I didn’t like it, when I asked for more. It took years for him to get the concept of how to brainstorm. In other words, bandy about the first suggestion, add six more, and then combine a few to come up with the solution. I discovered the best time to get him into a thinking mode is to join him in a place with no distractions. The pool or hot tub works nicely. It has taken years, but he has become quite adept at helping me find over-the-top, but perfect solutions to issues. Now he can read for pacing, plot holes, and overall content. Best of all, he is taking up cooking dinner.

And then there are the kids. While in high school, they encouraged me, but declined to read anything. Once they graduated from college, the oldest started to read my action-adventure thrillers (with strong romantic elements, of course), and gave surprisingly accurate comments about pacing and research. Hmm, had he learned from osmosis? The youngest prefers my sci-fi, is still in cheerleader mode (we all need some of that), and claims to skip any sexy parts.

So don’t discount those around you if at first their assistance seems impossible or unhelpful. They might just surprise you. Oh, hubby just walked in and dropped the latest scene on my desk. “Needs more tension,” he said and walked out. Sigh.

Check out my Daphne du Maurier and Maggie award-winning book Repossessed (hubby had a big influence on that one) at www.sandyparksauthor.com. The sequel Outfoxed is coming soon, in which my military (pilot) son and his friends actually provided some of the research. Thanks for stopping by.    
Posted by Sandy Parks

Oooh, Shiny!

by Janis Patterson

I'll admit it. I have a short attention span. I'm all too ready to be distracted by something new and different. Which, incidentally, is why I don't particularly like series – either writing or reading. I want something new.

I never realized that this failing of mine extended to my own books. Several years ago I was fortunate enough to have two romantic/gothic/mysteries published by the incredible Vinspire Publishing. I was delighted to be with them, as both books are really rather special stories to me. Although they are more than half mysteries, they were brought out under my Janis Susan May name instead of the Janis Patterson I now use for mysteries.

Both are set in the mid-to-late 1960s. DARK MUSIC is about a romance writers' conference (yes, there were such things before RWA was begun in 1980) set in a Canadian resort hotel. Then there's a freak blizzard trapping the conferees, including the heroine and her ex-husband; then someone starts to murder the romance writers one by one. It was a fun book.

The second book is ECHOES IN THE DARK, about a photographer with a broken leg who gets taken – reluctantly – by her ex-husband to an aged resort hotel in the Arkansas wilderness to join an archaeological dig he is spearheading. (And before you ask, when I wrote these two books I was in the throes of a painful breakup of a long-time romance that had gone sour. Writing was cheaper than analysis.) The heroine also has a head injury and is prone to hallucinations. When she sees a ghost that isn't an hallucination, her troubles really start.

These are both good books. I like them and enjoyed writing them. I didn't realize how I had pretty much forgotten about them. Recently Vinspire has started bundling their books and asked what we were doing to PR them. I was ashamed to admit even to myself that I had done nothing in the longest time. I had put so much time and energy on writing new books (isn't that what we're supposed to do?) and on getting my backlist and a new one or two published and released during my 30 June-30 October publishing blitz that these two little gems had simply faded into the background, a spot they really didn't deserve.

So now I'm really doing a lot of publicity for them, but it's making me think about how my - or anyone's - career should be prioritized. I only have so much time. I have to write. I have to publish. I have a family and a life and other obligations.

What has to give?

What indeed.

UPDATE : My publishing blitz is going right on schedule. This fortnight's offering is THE EGYPTIAN FILE, a new, never-before-published romantic adventure (with a large dollop of mystery, too) set in contemporary Egypt. What secrets does THE EGYPTIAN FILE hold? Will my heroine survive to find out? Well, of course she does, but for a while it's touch and go. And what about that handsome cab driver? Who is he, really?

The Monday Morning Blogging Blues

This is my fourth attempt at writing a blog this morning, and let me just say that attempt #3 was the ultimate in author irascibility. But see, I still have enough restraint to pull that back.

 

YOU’RE WELCOME.

 

I am deep, deep into the first draft of the third novel of the year, and being pulled away from it is physically painful. Which is where I find myself wondering if readers really want or need to hear from me in between books? I don’t know. We hear so much about social media and the need to keep readers interested and engaged. There is so much competition out there, how would readers know to find me if I wasn’t blogging somewhere every week?

 

Good question.

 

I don’t know the answer.

 

I know that I am faking my way through this blog because I am desperate to get back to the story I am writing, so I am pretending to be a normal human who likes normal interaction.

 

But for future reference – not just for me, but for this blog in general – what would you like to hear from us (besides the best damn books we can write?)

 

Here’s a list of potential (recommended) writerly topics – I went through several of these blogs and this is the only one where I thought the guy had a handle. But it seems only fair to point out that while he might have a handle on writing blogs, who the hell has ever read his fiction? Nearly 44K followers and I’ve never heard of him.

 

And that’s the dilemma, right?

 

I would rather be known for my fiction than my blogs. And I think it is safe to say that my wish has come true. And all kidding aside, that's a comfort on mornings like this one.

 

So you tell us here at Not the Usual Suspects. What kind of blogs would you like to see in the future?

 

1 - Excerpts from our Carina Press Novels.

 

2 - Backstory of Said Novel.

 

 3 - A Behind-the-Scenes Look at Said Novel. 

 

4 - “Directors” Notes. I personally like this one! "Explain why you chose to start with a particular scene. Talk about the scenes you had to delete—or those you had to add to improve the story."

 

5 - Interview with Yourself. *splutter*  

 

6 - Interviews with Your Characters.

 

You tell us. Basically blogs are for your entertainment. So what would be interesting to you, the reader?

 

 

 

 

Nerd Girl

I’ve spent the last few months working on a new kind of mystery writing project. Officially, I started as a researcher for a 10-episode, Netflicks TV show. (The premise is suspense/sci-fi. But if I tell you any more than that, someone will put a hit out on me. J

My unofficial, and more accurate title: Nerd Girl.

During regular meetings with the writers, I would listen to rough story elements and build an enormous list of questions to investigate:

“What do women prisoners in South Korea eat?”

“How many Nancy Drew mysteries are there?”   

“What are the steps for arranging an Indian/Hindi marriage?”

Then, I went hunting.

Can I stop here and admit that I love research? I love finding things. Great little hotels. People’s phone numbers. Where the ketchup ended up in the fridge…If something needs finding, I’m your girl.

I searched online news sources from all over the world, popped into the local college library for my more exotic research, and set up a dozen interviews with friends, or friends of friends. 

By asking around, I discovered a connection to someone who had actually toured a women’s prison in South Korea! Did you know it is surprisingly complicated to confirm the fact that there are 175 Nancy Drew Mystery Stories? (Don't get those Drew fans started about sequels. Unless you bring your lunch.) Later, I learned some of my women friends actually had arranged marriages. Whaaaat?

Talk about serendipity! I felt like the private detective in a story who has suspiciously convenient sources all over town.

Lots and lots of photos were captioned and saved. Movies related to the setting and characters, turned out to be another great source, so I dug into IMBD and kooky film blogs galore. TV/film people need to see the world; visuals are necessary inspiration. Pintrest was the motherlode.

Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I got flagged for every government Watch-List there is after searching terms like: prison + Korea, gang names?, and counterfeit + drugs. (FYI, I may call all of you as character witnesses when I claim, “Honestly, your Honor, I’m an innocent writer/researcher!”)

Here’s where you can learn from my mistakes. I made one huge goof when I started. I did my research from my regular google launch page.

(moment of silence.) Yeah.

That was dumb.

Really, really weird emails started showing up in my mailbox. (Some of them were so odd I was tempted to save them, but didn't have the necessary CDC levels of quarantine.)

Then, I discovered google incognito. And learned to clear my history and cookies on a regular basis.

All the bits and pieces I gathered went into a OneNote notebook with links and references. Some of what I found was used, some wasn’t. But I learned a ton, and I admit, nerd-girl had a lot of fun working as a script researcher.

So here’s your chance: put the nerd-girl to work for you. Anybody have any questions I can answer?
  

Julie Wachowski is a writer. And a nerd-for-hire. Find her lurking on facebook and J.Wachowski.com

THE ARMCHAIR ROMANTIC - by Kathy Ivan

I'm an anomaly.  I freely admit it.  Unlike everyone else I know, I rarely travel.  Vacations?  What is that?  Exotic places around the globe have never been graced with my esteemed presence.  Other than an occasional writer's conference, you will rarely see my eyeballs outside of the town where I live. 

But writers write about places other than where they live, right?  If I only wrote about the town where I live, trust me, most of you would be bored out of your minds.  There's not a whole lot shaking around here. 

I'm a voracious armchair traveler, though.  Through the magic of books, I've visited many places around the world.  I've been to some of the most exotic locales on earth without leaving the comforts of home.

I've walked on the beaches in Hawaii, my toes curling in the black sands while the crystal blue waters lap gently, each wave curls against the shore.  The trade winds blow a soothing breeze, and the scent of hibiscus and plumeria fill the air. 

I've strolled along the Champs-Elysees in Paris, smelled the freshly baked bread and pastries.  Jumped back as reckless drivers sped through the streets and dined at sidewalk cafes across from my love on a romantic getaway for two, while sipping champagne and sharing intimate moments.

I've visited the pyramids in Egypt.  Slalomed down the Alps.  Gone deep sea fishing off the Florida Keys. 

Good writers transport me (and hopefully you, too) to places we might otherwise never see through the magic of their words.  They bring alive the sounds, scents and tastes of every element, so much so that if you were to close your eyes for just a moment, you'd find yourself transported deep within the pages of the story—feel as though you are right there with the hero and heroine—experiencing every nuance of their surroundings.

This is what I try to bring to life when I'm writing.  My romantic suspense books are set in and around New Orleans, Louisiana.  The French Quarter.  The Big Easy.  Just hearing the name of the place evokes preconceived notions of what it's like.  I want you to hear the Cajun and Creole dialect in the words.  Feel the energy of the crowds on Bourbon Street at night.  Experience the joy and excitement of Mardi Gras.  Smell the spicy jambalaya so hot and fresh it makes your mouth water for the first bite. 

So, the next time wanderlust strikes and you can't physically get away on some tropical escape—step within the pages of a book and fly away. 

Kathy Ivan is busy writing her next New Orleans based romantic suspense, and wishing she was there.  Her current release, Connor's Gamble, is on sale for the next two days for $.099 at most e-book retailers. 

MEMORIES.

 

As I consider writing a ‘Vintage’ (50s-70s) romantic suspense, I make notes of memories and last week spoke to others about their recollections. Everything from funny to stupid, to bitter sweet was mentioned. As I reviewed my notes, I wondered what children and teens of this day and age would have to recall as memories. Sitting next to one another texting? Sexting?  TGP’ing and or egging a house is a no-no for this generation of pranksters. “Not good for the environment,” I was told by a self-assured teenager sipping from a water bottle. No, these days it’s hacking into a teacher’s computer to get a test or change grades.

Do you remember riding a bike with no helmet, arm and knee pads? I swear I never knew anyone who got more than road rash from a bike crash. I think we must have peddled five to ten miles a day in summer. Never alone but in ‘gangs’. LOL! I played in the swamp, chased gators, (relax, nothing over five feet long) was chased by wild pigs. Climbed trees and coquina cliffs without a safety rope or net. The only time I can remember falling was when I went to sleep in the crook of an old oak and woke up falling. I hid silently in stickery bushes peering into windows to watch the only TV on the island. Now, children of that age seem distraught if there is no video display equipment of some kind in every room, if not their hand. Will they remember the time they visited their dotty g-ma who had no cell or wi-fi service and they had to, gasp, talk to one another? Will they reminisce about the early days of facebook and pinterest?

I drank palm berry moonshine that, when strained, was sometimes used as fuel in the tank of a car. Had to wear a girdle, white gloves and stockings to church. Stop laughing it was the 50s and 60s. Thank gawd for the burn your bra movement. Which I immediately joined.    

I survived relatively unscathed. I do occasionally twitch a bit. Can’t decide if it is from the moonshine or the girdle. I can show you a couple of scars but will not tell the story unless you’re sitting there with me.    

What becomes the head scratcher for me is, can you imagine what will the future that the days of 2014 will be considered the good old days?  And… when authors are writing a vintage story about 2014 what will they include?

 

Are your memories, pressed between the pages of your mind.  Sweetened thru the ages just like wine. Do you dream of the old days when life was beautiful and you knew what happiness was. Or, was all the crazy shit you did last night the best memories

Rita writes about military heroines. Extraordinary women and the men they love. You can get

Point of No Return

Under Fire:The Admiral

Under Fire

where ever fine ebooks are sold.

 

Coming soon Hunter’s Heart

Moving House - and moving a new release?

I originally planned to post this piece earlier this summer when a friend said she was “moving house.” While it’s not what we’d call it – we’d simply say “moving” - the term stuck with me since we’re literally moving a house. Well, it’s an old log cabin, but let’s not get too technical.

When we bought our property in the mountains, it came with an assortment of fallen or tumbling down barns, sheds and cabins. Thousands of pounds of debris later, we’re close personal friends with all the people who work at the dump.

We’re down to the last barn standing. Snow banked against the lower tier has made at least one log rot, so the building lists precariously. Having grown up in the South, I was used to older buildings and loved the charm of Charleston where the building age has crossed the 300-year threshold. (Okay, those of you in Europe quit laughing. Three hundred is old over here.) It was a shock to find that out here in the west, a building that’s a hundred is a rarity. So we wanted to preserve the cabin if we could.

Unfortunately the cabin occupied the prime high ground (big surprise, right?) where we wanted to build our house. We’d learned with some of the other buildings we’d constructed that anything over 200 square feet required a permit. Off we went to chat with the building department about what moving the cabin would require.

Here’s the gist of that conversation(s):

Us: We’d like to salvage this historic old barn but weren’t sure about the building requirements.

Building dept: If you take it apart (and treat the logs so they are less likely to rot) and move it, you have to bring it up to code. 

Us: It’s a barn. Like stacked Lincoln logs. 

BD: Yes. 

Us: So what does code mean? (How in the hell do you bring a stack of logs to code and who wrote code for them in the first place???)

BD: You have to have engineered trusses and …

Us: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What would we put the trusses on?

BD: You’d have to build a structure to carry the beams and trusses and you’d need an engineering analysis that the roof can support the snow load. 

Us: It’s been standing for over 100 years. Apparently it can handle the snow load. 

BD: But it MIGHT collapse. So you’d have to bring it up to code.

Us: Wait, you said “if” we take it apart. Is there an alternative?

BD: If you pick it up intact, you can move the barn, but you have to have a building permit to put it down. An analysis of the foundation and footings. And to issue the building permit, we really need an engineering analysis of the foundation and whether the roof…

Us: What if it falls apart when we try to pick up a stack of logs?

BD: Then you’d have to apply for a building permit to put it back together. Bringing it up to code.

Head. Desk.

It took forever to find anyone who’d even consider taking a small, off the wall, structural engineering project. While we searched, we went ahead and disassembled the cabin and treated the logs.

Finally, a friend of a friend agreed to write it up after my engineer husband drew up a discreet structure that carries the trusses and that we can bolt the logs to (making the new part nearly invisible). The balance will be hidden by salvaged wood from other long gone buildings. The frame will also support a new sliding barn door (easier to open when there’s several feet of snow).

Several months and several checks later, we had the analysis and hubby once more visited the building department. 

BD: Ah, this design might work and I see you have the engineering analysis. Yes, I could approve this. 

Us: Great! So you’ll issue the building permit?

BD: Oh, no. This just approves the engineering analysis. We need this (ream of paper) for the building permit. 

Us: Pause…consideration…do we really want to save this (ridiculously expensive) bit of history?

Yes.

Picks up papers and shuffles back to car.

The building department did issue a permit and we’re working on the foundation, so hopefully soon I can report back that the cabin is securely stationed in its new position on the farm.

What does any of this have to do with a new release? Nothing that I can think of…unless you talk about structure of a story. Foundations. Perseverance.

Nah.

CYPHER released this week. An early reviewer called it a twisty mystery with a compelling romance, which describes it well.

When a hit-man kills the wrong person, a Greenville, SC detective confronts hidden agendas and conflicting motives in a powerful local family, while trying to control his attraction to the intended victim—a woman who should be dead, but instead is hell-bent on saving the remnants of her family.

Unwilling to stand by while her family and world are destroyed, she rips apart the secrets surrounding Cypher, the company her father built—and will take any measures to defend.

Available at the following online retail sites:

Amazon      Barnes & Noble      Kobo                 

Shark Week and Romantic Suspense

There is so much hype for Shark Week that I'm not even sure when it really is. Sharknado was on a couple of weeks ago, but I believe that this is the actual Shark Week. 

Humor me for a moment as I talk about Sharknado. (Yes, I hear you all groaning!) I might be divulging spoilers if you haven't seen the movie...but somehow I don't think that is going to disappoint you... :)


I have to tell you, the cameos in the second movie were worth the torture of watching it. They dug up (probably literally from the grave) Robert Hayes from the original AIRPLANE as the pilot of the 747.  They had Jared from Subway sitting on a bench...in the subway! Judd Hirsch from Taxi drove a cab!  

Another plot phenom was to have Daymond John from Shark Tank (LOL -- Shark Tank) get run over by the Statue of Liberty's head as it tumbled down a New York Street.  

In all this brain cell-killing madness I found a certain beauty. This is why I never believe in 1-star reviews on books. No matter how bad you think a book or movie is, someone, somewhere exhausted a lot of thought to craft these absurd scenes. Is there not a perverted sense of brilliance in having a woman's hand bit off in mid-air by a tornado-flying shark...only to later have that very same shark land on top of the Empire State building next to the hero and this very same woman, so that he can pull her severed hand out of its mouth and extract the engagement ring to propose to her again? I'm going to just go ahead and confess that I could never come up with that plot twist!

Okay, back to sharks and romantic suspense. How many shark-themed romantic suspense novels are you aware of?  I read STRANDED WITH HER EX by Jill Sorrenson. It was very good. I'm sure there are many others that I'm missing. I know our very own Toni Anderson finds an eloquent way to weave marine life into romantic suspense in SEA OF SUSPICION.

What is it about sharks that fascinates us? Do you think they can live in harmony with romantic suspense?


Brought to you from the very eccentric, Maureen A. Miller.

Timing is Everything

You know how sometimes life works in mysterious ways? Sometimes, there's a synchronicity in the things we do or say or with the people we meet and totally unassociated things can become extremely associated. I don't know about you, but I find those times very random and very surreal.

Or a person can deal with any type of issue or emotion and something in life might happen that could snap them in another direction. Hopefully a better direction, although sometimes that may not be the case.

In Imminent Danger, Abbey Washington has been living her life, but just barely. She works hard at her job, but she keeps to herself. She's reserved and shy except when she's dancing. Dancing is the only time when she has control and she needs the music like she needs air to breathe. Dancing helps her cope, helps her deal with life. So what turns Abbey around? A couple of things actually. Witnessing a crime is one, but potentially being a victim for a second time in her life is the other. It takes a scary situation for her to come out of her shell, to learn to trust, to begin to grow. Her bad timing might actually be the best thing that could've happened to her. (Here's the cover since I can't seem to get enough of it. <G>)

It's like the saying my mom to used all the time: Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes I think that's the theme of all my books. (Now granted, some things shouldn't ever happen, but they do. The trick is to learn from it.)

I'm curious if any of you have experienced bad timing that turned out to be a good thing.

And, in case you're interested, I thought I'd post a quick excerpt from Imminent Danger.

“You’re in a good mood,” Abbey said, coming out of her bedroom.

Blake turned and nearly dropped to the ground in supplication. It took a concerted effort to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

Abbey canted her head. “What?”

What? Was she kidding? What was that in thirty minutes she’d transformed herself from stunning girl to absolute Miss Universe perfection. He didn’t often see her wearing makeup and the effect it had on her already smooth skin and clear green eyes nearly brought him to his knees. Her dirty blond hair hung smooth and long around her shoulders, and the form-fitting strappy neon pink top and black leggings with a matching pink stripe down the side showed off her toned dancer’s body. He pegged her at five foot eight and she was all legs. The girl had legs to her neck. Legs he wanted wrapped around his waist as he pushed inside of her and sent them both—

“Hello.” Abbey snapped her fingers in the air. “Blake. Yo.”

He snapped out of his daydream.

“What’s got you on another planet?” She headed to the sofa and left the smell of citrus in her wake. She rifled through her bag for something.  

“Uh…nothing.” He backed up toward the door. “You ready to go?” If he stayed in her apartment much longer, she might end up out of those clothes she wore. Man, he could imagine stripping everything off her. Slowly and surely exposing every inch of smooth, soft skin.

“I don’t know.” She put a hand on her hip and cocked a stance. “You ready to stop looking at me like I’m your next meal?”

His gaze flashed to hers and he smiled. “Was I doing that?”

She nodded with one eyebrow arched high.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ll work on it.”

“Good. You need to.” She swung a large bag over her shoulder. “C’mon. I don’t want to be late,” she said, passing him to open the front door.

Is Nothing Sacred?

Am I the only person who’s tired of settling down to watch evening TV and being faced with ads naddering on about erectile disfunction?  Take this, take that--when the moment is right.  Until then, sit in two bathtubs and look at the ocean.  But, and this is a big but, if you have an erection lasting more than four hours, call your physician.  Four hours!  I guess I’ve led a sheltered life.

My point being, is nothing sacred?  Sex with the partner of your choice is glorious, but do we have to hear about sexual malfunction over our nightly ice cream (sometimes with a brownie)?

            The tampon ads aren’t too much fun either.  Laxative ads are on that list, also.  Diet pills are a little better, except when I’m polishing off the ice cream.  Give me a good lite beer ad any time, maybe with a studly athlete touting the brew.  I love hearing about all those hops.

Maybe my antipathy for life’s grungier moments shows in my writing.  Now don’t get me wrong.  My murder mysteries (the Murders by Design Mystery Series, thank you very much) have shooting scenes--people get plugged right between the eyes--chase scenes, muggings, fights In a story I’m currently revising, there’s a harrowing birth scene, a poisoning, a stabbing, so I’m not avoiding the dark side of existence.  Not at all.  But those dark scenes are dynamic, life-changing events that are important to the plot.  In them, my heroes are always ready to perform, there are no scatological references (well, only one ladies room stalking scene in Rooms To Die For), nobody’s constantly constipated, or ever for that matter, and the heroine never has her period at a critical point in the plot.

Why not, you ask?  Because fiction imitates life only up to a point.  It doesn’t duplicate every aspect of it. That theory can be opposed, of course, and there are works out there to prove it.  However, in IMHO, fiction’s deepest reality is a fantasy that cherry picks its truths. Which means an author doesn’t necessarily have to emphasize what we all, on some level, would probably rather not read about.  E. D. no.  E. F. yes!  Comments welcome.

Jean Harrington’s latest Naples-set murder mystery, Rooms To Die For, is currently available on Amazon.  The next book in this tongue-in-cheek series, The Design is Murder, is due for release on November 17^th.  You’re cordially invited to check out excerpts at www.jeanharrington.com.