Cozy Mysteries
Hello and welcome to my place! I am delighted to bring you Lyrical Press’s Cozy Mysteries today with authors Lynn Cahoon and Janet Finsilver.
The authors will be awarding digital copies of all books on the tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please click on the banner above to visit their other tour stops for more chances to win, and don’t forget to leave a comment! π
Tea Cups and Carnage, byΒ Lynn Cahoon,Β Mystery
The quaint coastal town of South Cove, California, is all abuzz about the opening of a new specialty shop, Tea Hee. But as Coffee, Books, and More owner Jill Gardner is about to find out, there’s nothing cozy about murder . . .
Shop owner Kathi Corbin says she came to South Cove to get away from her estranged family. But is she telling the truth? And did a sinister someone from her past follow her to South Cove? When a woman claiming to be Kathi’s sister starts making waves and a dead body is found in a local motel, Jill must step in to clear Kathi’s name–without getting herself in hot water.
Excerpt:
Limping home, I saw Gregβs truck parked at City Hall. I went in through the side door that took me to the police station. Amy kept going, heading home to shower before returning to her job as city hall receptionist.
Greg stood by Esmeraldaβs desk and raised his eyebrows when he saw me. βRough workout? Iβm glad I was too busy to go today.β
βOh, youβll get yours. Donβt think demon trainer didnβt notice you were gone.β
βOkay. So why are you here?β He pushed a curl back out of my face. βToo far to walk home after the workout?β
βYouβre just mean, you know that right?β I sank into the couch. It did feel amazing just to veg for a second or two. Okay, so Greg could have been right about my real motives for the impromptu visit. βActually, I wanted to know about your call-out last night. Iβm assuming this was a murder and not an old guy dying in his sleep.β
βAnd you deduced that from?β He watched me closely.
Shrugging, I sank deeper into the cushions. No wonder Greg didnβt mind sleeping in his office every so often. The couch was amazing. βNo one blabbed, if youβre thinking of blaming Toby. You didnβt call, and youβre still wearing last nightβs clothes.β
He chuckled. βYouβre right. I guess Iβm more transparent than I thought. We donβt know much about the murder, except the guy checked in a few days ago under a false name. Of course, the motel doesnβt ask for any verification or even a credit card. Cash only out there.β
βSo heβs not a local.β For some reason, this made me feel better. Sure, it was sad someone had died, but people died all the time. I just didnβt want it to be one of my friends.
βNot that I can tell. But I think itβs the biker whoβs been racing up and down Main Street. He fits the description.β Greg shrugged and grinned. βAnd, thereβs a bike parked outside his room. Yep, Iβm a trained investigator, I notice these things.β
βBig guy?β I thought about how the elderly woman had almost been smashed by the rider just a few days ago.
βNope. Heβs tall, maybe six feet, but if he weighs more than a hundred fifty soaking wet Iβll buy you dinner.β Greg groaned as he stood and walked across the room to his desk. He pulled me to standing. βI hate it when you do that.β
βDo what?β Now that I was upright, my stomach growled reminding me I hadnβt eaten all day. I dug into my tote and pulled out a protein bar.
βTrick me into telling you more than I should.β He pointed to the door. βOut of here. Iβve got work to do.β
I took a bite of my protein bar as I walked out. Pausing at the door, I turned back to look at him. He was already typing into some document. βI take it I wonβt see you for dinner?β
βNot tonight. But Iβll be over on Sunday at the latest.β He paused. βAre you working the festival that day?β
βJust the morning shift. Weβre closing the main store and only running the food truck that day.β I adjusted the strap on my tote, feeling the weight on my screaming shoulder blade. I walked out of the office and wondered how bad the murder had been. Just because it was a stranger that lay in the morgue, didnβt mean someone from South Cove hadnβt been involved or known the guy.
Or why else would he have been here?
About the Author:
New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho expat. She grew up living the small town life she now loves to write about. Currently, sheβs living with her husband and two fur babies in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. Guidebook to Murder, Book 1 of the Tourist Trap series, won the 2015 Readerβs Crown award for Mystery Fiction. Visit her at www.lynncahoon.com
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/26451
https://twitter.com/LynnCahoon
https://www.facebook.com/LynnCahoonAuthor
Buy links:
TEA CUPS AND CARNAGE: amazonkindle,Β Apple,Β Google, Kobo,Β Nook
MURDER AT THE MANSION: amazonkindle,Β Apple,Β Google, Kobo,Β Nook
Murder at the Mansion, by Janet Finsilver, Mystery
Fortunes, fineries, and foul play . . .
Itβs whale-watching season in Redwood Cove, and B&B manager Kelly Jacksonβs battening down the hatches for the tourist rush at Redwood Heightsβa Victorian-style estate owned by her boss. And due to recent jewelry thefts, her duties include keeping track of the many dust-covered artifacts spread throughout the property. But when Kelly finds Sylvia Porterβs lifeless body, menial tasks donβt seem so terrible.
Enlisting the help of a ragtag group of brainy retirees, aka the βSilver Sentinels,β Kellyβs on the hunt for clues hidden behind the mansionβs glamorous faΓ§ade and for a killer who may want to make history of her next!
Excerpt:
βWelcome, everyone. My name is Lily Wilson, and Iβll be leading the tour today. If you have questions, please donβt hesitate to ask them. Thereβs a sign-in sheet on the check-in counter. Weβll be starting at one oβclock, which is in five minutes.β She turned in my direction and said, βIβd like to introduce the manager of one of Resorts International properties, Kelly Jackson. Sheβs in charge of Redwood Cove Bed-and-Breakfast.β
The members of the group smiled an acknowledgment. A short man in a denim shirt and khaki pants raised his hand. Lily smiled at him and asked, βIs there something youβd like to know?β
He pointed to the entrance to the parlor. βWhat is that shield above the doorway?β
βRedwood Heights was built by Reginald Brandon. Thatβs the family coat of arms,β Lily said. βThere is an official Brandon crest on file. However, Mr. Brandon wanted to design his own to reflect life in the West. On his shield he chose to put the silhouettes of two rearing stallions, symbols of strength. Rifles instead of swords crossed over the top of themβthe weapons of that era. Tall redwood trees filled in the area behind them and were the source of his wealth. You can see his motto for loyalty and honor on the banner.β
I enjoyed her explanation. It added another dimension to an object that had just been an interesting piece.
A tall woman with a long brown braid down her back pointed to a picture. βIs this Mr. and Mrs. Brandon?β
βYes, that picture is of the Brandons,β Lily replied. βThe woman in the picture is the second Mrs. Brandon. As with many wealthy families and historic estates, there are questionable stories in their past. Redwood Heights is no different.β
βHow so?β asked the woman.
βWe donβt have any pictures of the first Mrs. Brandon. She was the belle of glittering New York high society who found herself in remote Redwood Cove. She disappeared not long after arriving. Some say she ran off with a lover. Rumors cropped up that she took a sizeable amount of Brandonβs money, changed her name, and left to enjoy San Franciscoβs growing attractions.β
The cadence of Lilyβs voice took the story beyond a runaway wife. Her tilted head and arched eyebrow led you down a path of mystery and intrigue. The visitors moved a little closer.
Lily leaned toward them and whispered, βSome say she never left at all.β Her words lingered in the dead silence.
Everyone was stillβfrozen in that past time. Goose bumps popped up on my arms. Someone coughed, and the spell was broken.
βAfter a time, Brandon married again. They had no children and, alas, the house went to a distant cousin.β
Iβd been mesmerized by the tale. Snapping out of it, I looked around. Sylvia still wasnβt there.
βThe tour will meet in the parlor. Restrooms are down the hallway to your right,β Lily instructed the group.
I walked up the carpeted stairs to the second floor, running my hand over the smooth oak railing. It had taken hundreds of polishings to develop the fine patina and rich glow.
Sylviaβs room was the first door at the top of the staircase. I knocked quietly. When there was no response, I knocked harder. She must really be a sound sleeper. I tried the door, but it was locked. I rushed downstairs, retrieved her room key, and glanced at my watch. If Sylvia hurried, sheβd still have time to make the start of the tour. Arriving back at her door, I knocked again.
βMrs. Porter, itβs Kelly. The tour is starting in a couple of minutes.β I got no response, so I unlocked the door and peeked in. Sylvia was sitting in front of her dressing table, her back to me.
I opened the door a little farther. βMrs. Porter?β I stepped inside the room. In the filtered light from the curtained windows, Sylviaβs image reflected in the mirror. Her eyes were closed, and her head rested on her shoulder. She must have dozed off before making it into bed for a nap.
My attention was drawn to a brooch on the left side of Sylviaβs blouse as I approached her. I hadnβt noticed it before. It was a lovely pieceβa large egg-shaped pearl surrounded by a burst of red.
I touched Sylviaβs shoulder. No response.
βMrs. Porter?β I gently shook her.
Sylviaβs head rolled forward and hung down. Her dangling hair covered the side of her face.
I gasped, and my heart began to pound. I looked more closely at her. The burst of red wasnβt part of a pinβit was blood.
About the Author:
Janet FinsilverΒ and her husband live in the San Francisco Bay Area. She loves animals and has two dogsβKylie, a Rhodesian ridgeback, and Ellie, a boxer/coonhound mix. Janet enjoys horseback riding, snow skiing, and cooking. She is currently working on her next Redwood Cove mystery.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31695
https://www.facebook.com/janetfinsilverauthor/
https://twitter.com/JanetFinsilver
Buy Links:
TEA CUPS AND CARNAGE: amazonkindle,Β Apple,Β Google, Kobo,Β Nook
MURDER AT THE MANSION: amazonkindle,Β Apple,Β Google, Kobo,Β Nook
Harmony, I want to let you know when you posted about my book, I wrote a comment, but it wouldn’t go through. I’m so glad I tried again today. It’s been fun reading the comments and interacting with your readers. Thanks again for mentioning me!
Thanks for sharing about my book, Murder at the Mansion. I really appreciate it!
Since I’m writing in a series, my characters come first. A lot of the South Cove crew pop in during the books, even if they aren’t a big part of the story.
That being said, I have bits and pieces of story that I know I want to explore. Like in Tea Cups, I wanted to work with estranged sisters and the idea of family. So Kathi moved to South Cove, opened Tea Hee, and her sister, Ivy, follows.
What comes first for you–the story or the characters?
Hi Becky! Thanks for stopping by and for your question. I look forward to seeing what the authors have to say! π
Hi, Becky! I agree with Lynn. When you have a series, the characters are first. They help create the story.
When you start a new book, do you have all the characters in place and an ending planned, or does it come to you as you write?
Hi Peggy! Thanks for stopping by and for your question π
Hi Peggy! Actually, when I start a book, the characters and the ending are the only thing I do have planned out. It’s the action that the characters walk me through as I write. It’s like knowing you want to get from NY to California and you know who you’re going with, but that’s it.
My South Cove crew keeps me on my toes.
Peggy, I have the characters and the ending figured out. However, I often add people as I go. A lot of it comes as I write. Thanks for asking!
Thanks for hosting! And to answer Mai T – I draft at the keyboard and write as much as possible. Typically an hour a day, but sometimes, more.
Hi Lynn! It’s my pleasure to host you today, and I hope you have a great tour π
Could you describe the mundane details of writing: How many hours a day to you devote to writing? Do you write a draft on paper or at a keyboard (typewriter or computer)?
Hi Mai, thank you so much for stopping by, and I love your question: can’t wait to see what Janet and Lynn have to tell us π
Hi, Mai! The amount of time varies. I generally write five days a week. I work on a computer, but I also make a lot of notes on paper during the day when ideas come to me.
Thanks for hosting!
My pleasure! π