Join me and the other authors at http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com for some interesting excerpts and perhaps find a new book to real. Mine is up at http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com and is a cozy mystery and about a neighborhood's troubles. In this excerpt you'll meet Kathrine's new tenants
BLURB:
Katherine is a retired nurse and a retired church organist. The small Hudson River village where she lives in her Victorian “Painted Lady” makes her the neighborhood matriarch. Along with her Maine Coon Cat Robespierre, she guards friends and families.
When amoral Rachel moves into the first floor apartment of Katherine’s house, trouble erupts. The murder weapon is one she recognizes and makes her fear for her friends and family. Finding the killer becomes her goal.
Editorial Review
Murder and Mint Tea is a gem in its genre, combining the voice of a classic American whodunit with that of a traditional British detective novel. Murder She Wrote meets Miss Marple in a beautifully crafted tale that makes the reader want to reach into the pages and dispense justice to the villainess themselves. ~ Writer Gail Roughton
EXCERPT:
When Ted Thomas’
silver Mercedes with a rusty trailer in tow pulled in at the curb, a giggle
escaped. Andrew’s best friend always
considers his impression on others before he acts. The sight beyond my window was enough to
shatter his suave playboy image.
A blonde woman
left the car. Two children erupted from
the van and tore across the year running through one of the flower beds. I raised the window in time to hear their
name-calling. Two men opened the door of
the van and carried pieces of furniture to the house. A couch, two easy chairs, a dinette set,
several dressers, a bed, mattress and some tables. I thought of the odds and ends of furniture
in the attic. Would the offer of beds
for the children offend my tenant?
As soon as they
unloaded the van, the man carried boxes from the trailer. The children dashed up and down the
walk. Ted and the blonde stood like
Siamese twins joined at the hip and watched the progress. Tem had attempted to disguise himself by
wearing dark glasses.
The phone
rang. Without missing a second of the
unfolding drama, I answered.
“Just me.” Sarah said.
“What’s she like? Are the kids
nice? Is that Ted Thomas?”
“It is.”
“Is that all?”
“You know as
much as I do.”
“Didn’t they
come for the keys?”
“Andrew must
have given them a set.” A black Lincoln
“What’s so
funny?” Sarah asked.
“Ted. He’s acting like he’s about to be caught
performing an illegal act. He’s wearing
dark glasses. Maybe he’d like a false
beard.”
“If he’s afraid
of being seen, why offer to help?”
“I can’t answer
for him but I’m sure I’ll learn.”
“It’s not like
he can’t be seen with her. He’s divorced
and so is she.”
Sarah was right. Ted has been divorced for five years. Though he and Andrew are buddies and Ted’s
ex-wife is a member of Sr. Stephens, I’ve never learned the details of the
split. “Talk to you later.”
“Good
enough,” Sarah said. “Shame you’re an invalid. Otherwise you could make a neighborly call.”
“Goodbye.” None of my family or friends knows how far
toward independence I’ve traveled.
Yesterday before Bessie left I’d reached the landing. Today I intended to go to the first floor.
The van backed
out of the driveway. Ted got into his
car. As the Mercedes and trailer pulled
away the blonde blew a kiss.
Curiosity as
strong as the cat killing kind egged me into action. I rubbed Robespierre’s head. “Too soon to go down.”
An hour later,
Robespierre pawed my face and startled me awake. He jumped from my side and padded to the
kitchen. The cat door flapped. I hobbled to the kitchen and took the tray
from the refrigerator and set it on the table.
Then with extreme caution I started down the stairs. After a brief rest on the landing I
continued. In the foyer I wiped my
sweat-drenched forehead and felt as if I’d worked hours in the garden on a
sultry day. I rang the bell to announce
my arrival.
After a short
wait, the door opened a crack. “Who’s
there?” a child asked.
“Katherine
Miller from upstairs.”
The crack
widened. Eyes the blue of summer skies
seemed to be the only feature on a dust streaked face. A mass of tangled brown hair hung down the
girl’s back. Her gaze focused on the
crutches. “What did you do to your leg?”
“Slipped and
broke it.”
“Susie, who is
it?” A woman’s voice, strident with
anger, echoed in the near empty apartment.
“The lady from
upstairs.”
“Can’t you ever
do anything right. I told you not to
open the door.” The girl seemed to
shrink. Her shoulders hunched as if
expecting a blow. “Find out what she
wants and get back to work.”
“There’s a
platter of cold cuts and salads for you.”
I raised my voice in an attempt to remove the child from the
communication line. “Moving day can be
hectic. I wanted to welcome you.”
A boy sauntered
to the door. “Snoop. That’s what you are. You come to snoop. You’re an ugly old witch.”
His verbal
attack stunned me. “This is my house.”
He pushed a lock
of honey blond hair from his forehead.
“Don’t believe you.”
“Bring the tray
in,” the woman called. “Susie, put water on for coffee.”
“She don’t have
anything,” the boy shouted.
“The tray’s
upstairs. I’m on crutches. I came down to see if one of the children
could fetch it. Don’t bother with
coffee. I know you’re busy.”
“Stay. I need a break.”
“Then I will.”
Planting my
crutches firmly on the slate I crossed the foyer and entered the living
room. The few pieces of furniture seemed
lost in the L-shaped room. Years ago a
concert grand had dominated the space.
“Be just a few
minutes. Lord, I’d forgotten what real
neighbors were like. In the apartment
complex where I lived, I was lucky if anyone spoke.”
“You’ll find
this is a friendly neighborhood.” Hoping
she would appear I continued through the living room. A conversation with a disembodied voice is
eerie.
“Snoop,” the boy whispered. He sat on the floor in front of the
Television and ate chips from a bag. Why
wasn’t he helping?
My Places
My Places
http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com
BUY MARK
http://bookswelove.net/authors/walters-janet-lane-romance-fantasy-suspense-medical/
8 comments:
Very vivid! And how I identify with your lady on crutches!
Love "curiosity of the cat killing kind" Great excerpt
This is a rather chaotic move, it seems.
I have the feeling this is not going anywhere good. ;o
I love cozy mysteries! This sounds awesome!
That's a great phrase: "Curiosity as strong as the cat killing kind." Really expressive and original while still using a cliche. Well done!
Interesting opening, Janet. I have to wonder how this will play out. Good hook.
So true - a conversation with a disembodied voice is eerie. Great snippet.I can never find your Tweet button??? Did you hide it somewhere?
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