Murder and Iced Tea is featured today with Thursday's Opening Scene #MFRWAuthor #BWLAuthor #Murder mystery #cozy #Robespierre

 Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window and the glass panel of the door, brightening the room. The yellow walls glowed and made me happy. I stared into the garden and noticed how the mints had spread. The three and a half years since Lars and I had married, sold our houses and purchased this four bedroom ranch as our home had been happy but because of the COVID epidemic, quiet. 

“Meow.” Robespierre emerged from the cat door and padded to his food dish. He stared and called again. 

I grabbed a box of dried food from the huge pantry closet and shook a minor shower of granules into the bowl. The brown and black long-haired Maine Coon cat attacked the offering. A few bites later he settled on the floor and stared Sphinxlike at me.

 I glanced at the kitchen clock above the small antique table and chairs. Time to pack my contribution to the neighborhood Labor Day gathering. From the pantry, I removed the largest cake holder. After opening the lid, I took the three tiered chocolate cake from the chest freezer and fitted the pastry into the holder. One down. I reached for my glass of iced mint tea and sipped. 

When I thought of how Sarah’s boys would crow with delight over the cake, I chuckled. Even though the pair had recently become teens, they remained suckers for the cake. I hoped Lars would soon return from his golf game with his son. I wanted to reach Sarah’s yard in time to help set up the food. 

Today we celebrated the end of selfquarantining for COVID. The past three years had meant that in person gatherings were only with immediate family. During the early hectic days, over Lars’ protests, I’d returned to the hospital to help with the influx of patients. The families in my neighborhood had been fortunate. Though many of my friends had developed the disease, no one had become seriously ill.

 As I opened the refrigerator, Robespierre stirred. He prowled to my side and stared at the jars I removed. Pickled shrimp, one of my special appetizers and one my allergy to the shrimp protein kept me from tasting. 

“Merrup.” 

I looked down at Robespierre. “You wouldn’t like them.” The huge cat’s expression marked my words as lies. I scratched his head. “I should give you a taste but I’m not cruel.” Who knew what effect vinegar and herbs would have on the cat. After finding a small cooler, I poured ice into the bottom and fitted a plastic bag inside. I decanted the jars of shrimp into the cooler, closed the bag and added it to the sides and top.

 I had just closed the cooler when Lars entered the kitchen. He brushed a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll shower and change. Then we can leave.” He strode away.

Robespierre stretched in that feline way of denying he had a rigid spine. The cat wound circles around my legs before exiting the kitchen via the cat door. I stood at the kitchen door and watched his antics. First he chased a butterfly and leaped onto the wall. There he chose a sunny spot. After adding tea to my glass, I sat at the kitchen table to wait for Lars.

My Places

   https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 http://bookswelove.net/

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/

 

Buy Mark My Places

 

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/

 

 

 

Murder and Iced Tea #MFRWHooks #BWLAuthor #Cozy mystery #Robespierre #Main Coon Cat #Halloween Parade

 

Join the authors at #MFRWHooks here http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com for some intriguing excerpts. Mine is found at eclecticwriter.blogspot.com and is from Murder and Iced Tea, a collection of short stories

Blurb:

When the mayor declares there will be no Halloween parade, a village tradition, Kate and her friends are surprised by the announcement. Sarah, Kate’s neighbor and friend is furious and she vows there will be a Halloween parade. A chance meeting with the mayor on Labor Day, also a no parade day sets Sarah and the mayor at odds. What can be done? There should be a parade, since there hasn’t been one since the start of the COVID epidemic.

Sarah gathers signatures on a petition she presents to the mayor. Mayor Bloom, refuses to acknowledge the gesture. Sarah vows she will find a way to thwart the over-weight man she calls Mayor Lard.

Kate receives a phone call from a friend in Vermont. The town where her friend lives has recently purchased some lamp post decorations that look like those she remembers from the Hudson River village. Are they the same. Kate sets out to learn.

While exploring the basement storage room at the town hall, Kate discovers the decorations for all the holidays are gone. She also discovers the body of the mayor. He has been hit over the head and also stabbed. Kate wonders who was so furious. Suspicion falls on her friend, Sarah. Kate sets out to find the killer and prays it’s not her friend.

EXCERPT:

Mayor Bloom straightened in his seat. “Greetings, Ladies. What a beautiful day for a ride around our marvelous town.” He smiled. “I’ve heard you’re planning a neighborhood feast to celebrate the end of COVID.” 

Was he aiming for the invitation I knew wouldn’t be offered? Since his election as mayor, Sarah has turned cool.

Nothing special,” Sarah said. “Just a few neighbors.” 

His smile brightened. Did he intend to claim a spot? He and his third wife lived three miles from here. He wasn’t part of the neighborhood.

 Sarah stepped closer to the car. “Why are you riding around in an irreplaceable antique car?”  

For a moment there was silence. I edged away. 

The mayor leaned forward. “We’re honoring Labor Day.”

 

Sarah placed a hand on the car. “A parade would have been a better way to honor the day. Crowds would have brought customers to town and helped the merchants and the restaurants.”

 “Assembling a crowd isn’t good. Too soon. Maybe next year.”

 Sarah stiffened. “You won’t have a say if you’re not re-elected. A thought. What happens to the money allocated for parades when the money isn’t used?”

 “Saved to build a surplus for something important.” 

“Like what?” Sarah’s hands fisted. 

“I haven’t decided.” She scowled. “I’ve heard a rumor that troubles me.” What had she heard and when? I couldn’t recall hearing any new rumors pointing to trouble. I waited for an answer. Sarah straightened her shoulders. Her expression changed to one of determination. A chill rolled down my spine. Was she inventing the rumor?

 Mayor Bloom laughed. The sound emerged thin and strangled. “There are always rumors.” 

Sarah’s hands tightened into fists. “I heard you’re cancelling the Halloween parade.” 

His lips formed a tight line. “There’s no reason to have one. Three years have passed since the last one. No one is pushing to restore the event. I informed the committee there is no reason for a parade.”

 “You’re wrong.” Sarah leaned forward and raised a fist. “Kate, how do you feel about there being no parade this year?” 

Before I had a chance to answer, the mayor spoke. “There’s no reason to have one. No one has pushed for a Halloween parade. The town council agrees with me. There’s no need.”

 I grasped her arm to stop the attack. “I feel sad to see a tradition ended. I understand why there’s been no parade for several years. To prevent the spread of COVID crowds were to be avoided.” 

Harold Bloom nodded. “How true. We don’t need to spread the disease among the fine people of our town.” Sarah’s face reddened. “You’re breaking a tradition for no good reason.”

 “I am not.” The redness of the mayor’s face matched hers. “COVID achieved that goal. We will have a new tradition.” He leaned forward and touched his friend’s shoulder. “Time to move on. We’ve wasted enough time here.” 

Was he angry about no invitation to our dinner? With a jerk, the ancient car moved. The mayor grasped the seat to keep from being propelled. “Be careful,” he cried.

 I watched the car chug away. What had the meeting accomplished? Nothing that I could see. “Good riddance,” Sarah said. 

My Places

   https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 http://bookswelove.net/

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/

 

Buy Mark My Places

 

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/

 

 

 

Murder and Iced Tea is featured as Sunday's Book #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #cozy mystery #Robespierre #Short stories

 

When the mayor declares there will be no Halloween parade, a village tradition, Kate and her friends are surprised by the announcement. Sarah, Kate’s neighbor and friend is furious and she vows there will be a Halloween parade. A chance meeting with the mayor on Labor Day, also a no parade day sets Sarah and the mayor at odds. What can be done? There should be a parade, since there hasn’t been one since the start of the COVID epidemic.

Sarah gathers signatures on a petition she presents to the mayor. Mayor Bloom, refuses to acknowledge the gesture. Sarah vows she will find a way to thwart the over-weight man she calls Mayor Lard.

Kate receives a phone call from a friend in Vermont. The town where her friend lives has recently purchased some lamp post decorations that look like those she remembers from the Hudson River village. Are they the same. Kate sets out to learn.

While exploring the basement storage room at the town hall, Kate discovers the decorations for all the holidays are gone. She also discovers the body of the mayor. He has been hit over the head and also stabbed. Kate wonders who was so furious. Suspicion falls on her friend, Sarah. Kate sets out to find the killer and prays it’s not her friend.

My Places

   https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 http://bookswelove.net/

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/

 

Buy Mark My Places

 

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/

 

 

 

Murder and Sweet Tea #MFRWHooks #BWLAuthor #cozy mystery #Maine Coon cat #Robespierre

 

Join the authors at MFRWHooks Here  http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com  for some great excerpts. Mine is fount at eclecticwriter.blogspot.com from Murder and Sweet Tea

BLURB:

Lars is her new husband. He loves Katherine but doesn’t understand why she’s always trying to protect her near and dear. Even though she saved his life while visiting him in Santa Fe, he often questions her involvement in other people’ lives.

Into their lives arrives a new neighbor, Sabrina Gates. Sabrina bought the house next door. She has had a phenomenal success as a new author but moes from her past and present threaten her peace and ability to write. There is the blogger who posts snide and not so nice posts about other authors. Sabrina’s former agent wants a share of the huge amount of money Sabrina has received for a trilogy. And there is her ex-husband, a needy greedy coward who wants money.

Above all there is Robespierre who makes his presence known.

EXCERPT:

I waved to Maria and Sarah and started along the sidewalk. The July sun shone in a cloudless sky. For a moment, I halted and studied the “Painted Lady” across the street. Several vans filled the driveway and men carrying sheetrock and wood strode to the house.

The Victorian had been mine for many years and until I’d converted both floors to apartments, the house had been a single family residence. The new owners, Jenna and Richard, had begun a second conversion to return the house to its original purpose. A smile curved my lips. This pair had married in June and had begun making the house into a home.

I turned the corner onto my street. Sun glinted on the dark waters of the Hudson River and revealed the construction of the new Tappan Zee Bridge.

My thoughts drifted to my husband. Our first anniversary would occur next month and I had visited with two of my friends to plan a barbeque. My kind of party. Lars would have made reservations at the Cedar Inn where our second reception had been held. I had missed the affair and so had Lars. An out of state friend had needed my help and I speeded to her side. Lars and I had our differences but love and friendship allowed us to compromise. Our marriage is based on a long friendship, first as two couples and then as two who had lost their mates.

Robespierre ambled up the street toward me. When he reached my side, the Maine Coon cat butted my leg with his head. Was this a welcome home or a bid for more food? At twenty pounds, he was large. His black, brown and white long hair made him seem larger.

As we passed the vacant “Dutch Colonial” next door to my new abode, I noticed a For Sale sign on the front lawn. The news brought curiosity. Who would buy? The elderly couple who owned the house had moved to a senior complex last year.

Moments later I reached home, a sprawling ranch house situated at the river’s edge well above the shore. The cat dashed to the kitchen. Lars sat at the table cradling a steaming mug of coffee. I sprinkled a few bits of dry food into Robespierre’s dish and filled a glass with spearmint iced tea. I joined my husband.

Lars glanced away from the newspaper. “Don’t leaving Megan with us for the day. He’s heading to the city.”

“He’ll swelter.”

“Possibly but he has an appointment with some publisher for a freelance bit designing book covers.”

“Sounds interesting. We’ll have fun entertaining the child. You know, she’s my fourth grandchild.”

He groaned. “You only have one. Megan is your step-grandchild the same as ----- is mine.”

“By blood, you’re right. Robby adopted me and so did Jenna after her grandmother was murdered.” I met his gaze. “The house next door is for sale. The sign went up this morning.”

Lars shook his head. “Are you worried about the Dunns?”

I glared. “Why would I worry? I know where they are. I’m hoping we acquire good neighbors.”

“And no bodies for you to find.”

I tapped his hand. “Bodies find me. I don’t seek them.”

“Is that a promise?”

The twinkle in his blue eyes dissolved my anger. “I’ll leave the next one for you.”

“Thanks a lot. You’re the one who collects corpses like a berry picker fills their basket.”

My Places

   https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 http://bookswelove.net/

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/

 

Buy Mark

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/

Murder and Bitter Tea #MFRWHooks #BWLAuthor #Mystery #cozy #Robespierre #Maine Coon cat

Join the authors at MFRWHook http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.coms for some great excerpts. Mine is found at https://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com and is from  Murder and Bitter Tea

Blurb:

Katherine’s newest tenant is estranged from her family and is the granddaughter of one of Katherine’s friends. When her friend falls and fractures her hip, the elderly woman is taken to Hudson House nursing home, an exclusive house.

Katherine’s friend becomes concerned about several recent and unexpected deaths. When she dies Katherine’s curiosity and suspicions send her undercover as a nurse. Soon she’s deeply involved.

Can she learn who is behind the scheme to end the lives of wealthy patients without becoming a victim?

Excerpt:

The sun of the early April day shone in a cloudless sky.  Yesterday’s rain had left the ground moist and easy for digging.  Daffodils and tulips added color to the scene and delight to my spirits.  I knelt beside one of the mint patches and loosened the soul around the emerging shoots.  Soon the numerous varieties would be high and provide leaves for drying and blending into teas.  This year, I planned to use green tea as a base in some of the blends.

 

            I pulled weeds, then sank back to admire my work.  My Maine Coon cat lay beside the gardening mat.  With a boneless movement, Robespierre stretched.  I sighed with envy and wished I had his supple spine.  He ambled toward the car pulling into the driveway.

 

            Jenna Taylor, one of my first floor tenants, slid from the red hatchback and waved.  “Hi, Mrs. Miller.”

 

            I rose and gathered my tools.  “How was class?”

 

            She grinned.  “Thanks for your help on the Psych paper.  Got an A.”

 

            “I’m proud of you.”

 

            Her hazel eyes filled with sadness.  “You’re the only one.”  She took the basket and carried it to the porch of my “Painted Lady.”

 

            The Victorian house I’d lived in since my dead husband and I had settled in this Hudson Valley village had been converted into two apartments.  I chose the second floor with its view of the river and rented the first.  A week after my return from Santa Fe, I’d acquired Jenna and her friend as tenants.  The young women were students at the local college, Jenna in Nursing and Louise in Business.

 

            I paused at the foot of the steps.  “Why don’t you call your grandmother?  I’m sure she’d be glad to see you and as proud of your accomplishments as I am.”

 

            She shook her head.  “And bring my problems with my uncle on her head.  He hated my mother.  After my dad died, Mom asked him for help and he refused.”  Tears glittered in her eyes.  “You should have heard the things he accused me of after my cousin’s death.  I’m better off staying away from family.”

 

            I touched her hand.  “The accident was five years ago.  Surely he’s over the loss by now.”

 

            She combed her fingers through her short honey blonde hair.  “He never forgives or forgets.”  She handed me the basket.  “Have to change for work.  See you tomorrow.”

 

            “Tomorrow,”  I echoed and followed her inside.  Robespierre trailed me upstairs.  There, I spilled a little food in his dish.  He thinks he should be fed every time he returns from outside.  I always indulge him by adding a few dry tidbits.

 

            I put the kettle on.  I hurt for Jenna.  She’d seen more tragedy in twenty-three years than anyone should bear.  Her father’s death, her mother’s alcoholism and series of abusive relationships.  Orphaned at fourteen, she’d gone to live with her grandmother.  Three years later, there’d been the accident and her cousin had died.  For some reason I hadn’t learned until recently, Jenna had become a runaway.

 

            In January, I learned from an acquaintance who taught at the college that Jenna had enrolled as a student and was looking for an apartment.  When she was a child, I’d felt sorry for her and angry about the way her uncle had treated her.  I offered her the first floor apartment at a reduced rate and had signed a lease with the girls.  Over the past few months, Jenna and I have become friends.

 

My Places

   https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 http://bookswelove.net/

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/

 

Buy Mark

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/

Murder and Poisoned Tea #MFRWHooks #BWLAuthor #cozy Mystery #Robespierre, #church organist

Join the authors at MFRWHooks here http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com for some great excerpts  Mine is found at eclecticwriter.blogspot.com from Murder and Poisoned Tea

 The moment she hears his mastery of the organ, Katherine covets him as St. Stephen’s new Minister of Music. Handsome, charming and vastly talented, the women of the congregation adore him. Even Katherine is swayed by his manners and ability, But Roger not only brought beautiful music, he brings poisoned notes to the choir. Katherine seeks to find the secret of why he has changed churches yearly. She prays the discovery will be in time to prevent a tragedy.

Review
The Mrs. Miller Mysteries series is a sheer delight. Miss Marple and Jessica Fletcher would love Katherine Miller. I know I do. ~~ Writer Gail Roughton

School cook

5.0 out of 5 stars Another great read By Janet Lane-Walters

Reviewed in the United States on January 12, 2023

Verified Purchase

Readers if your into mystery’s. Janet Lane-Walters is exceptional writer. Her books are hard to put down when your reading them.

Helpful

Report

Julia Bock

3.0 out of 5 stars Murder and poisoned tea-Book 2

Reviewed in the United States on October 4, 2021

Verified Purchase

This is a good story and good characters some new some old from book one. I'm sure book three will be the same with a new murder. I will come back to these at another time.

One person found this helpful

Helpful

Report

Sandra Semerad, author of Carrie Sue’s Diary and other thrillers

5.0 out of 5 stars Love the series

Reviewed in the United States on September 28, 2021

Verified Purchase

I love this series, though I seldom read cozies. I’m hooked on these books.

One person found this helpful

Helpful

Report

Cat of all Cats

4.0 out of 5 stars More on the way?

Reviewed in the United States on July 9, 2017

Verified Purchase

Hopefully will continue and improve. Story line a bit weak, needs more development.

EXCERPT:

On Groundhog Day when Robespierre, my Maine Coon cat, jumped

from his place on the window seat, one thought popped into my head.

Company. Who? After following him to the kitchen, I watched him push

his bulky, brown and black body through the hinged opening at the bottom

of the door. Moments later I peered down the dimly lit stairwell.

Robespierre had sprawled in the center of the third step and blocked my

visitor’s progress.

“Good grief, Katherine, I hope he’s not planning to bite me again.”

Edward Potter, pastor of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, glared at the cat.

His voice had risen to a high pitch. “Whatever do you feed him? He’s ever

so much bigger than Bitsy.”

The temptation to say my pet fed on pastors was strong. I refrained

and fought to control a grin that threatened to blossom. Teasing Edward

usually results in a lecture delivered in an indignant voice.

With an air of disdain, Robiesperre stretched. His back rippled in a

way I envy. Then he slithered around Edward.

When Edward reached the top of the steps, he turned and peered at

the cat. “He’s becoming more brazen.”

“Only toward selected guests. He ignores most people.” I turned my

head and Edward brushed my cheek with his lips.

Edward is a dapper little man with an ear for gossip and a penchant

for turning even the slightest event into a fiesta or a disaster. He’s astute

about church politics. The coffers at St. Stephen’s are filled through his

ability to cosset and cajole the elderly population of the church, mainly

wealthy women. I partially fit the category, being over sixty-five, and while

not rich, I’m at least comfortable.

When he entered the sunlit kitchen, the expression on his face

announced a problem. He walked into the living room. Unlike most of my

guests, he considered chats at the kitchen table for commoners. In the

living room, he perched on the edge of a Queen Anne chair, purchased

years ago before antiques became the rage. In the past twenty years,

stores selling every manner of old things have spread plague-like in the

business district of the Hudson River village where I live.

“You’re tense. How about a cup of mint tea?”

“Not all the tranquilizers in the world will calm me. It’s a disaster, a

complete and utter tragedy.” His hands fluttered. The words rolled out like

a sermon promising hell and damnation. “How will we maintain the quality

of the services? Easter will be a disaster.”

My forehead wrinkled. What in the world had stirred him into this

state? The last time had been when one of the altar boys had spilled the

communion wine. Had there been a fire at the church? A flood? A

plague? The strident fire whistles had been silent for days. What had

occurred? Knowing a full and dramatic scene would develop, I wanted

mint tea.

“I’ll heat the water. Then you can tell me about this tragedy.” Mint

tea is my all-purpose remedy, calming nerves and stimulating the mind,

bringing alertness or sleep.

I retreated to the kitchen, filled the kettle and stuffed a silver ball with

an assortment of dried mint leaves. While the water boiled, I assembled the

pottery mugs, sugar and spoons on a wooden tray.

“Why will Easter be a problem?” I set the tray on a Duncan Phyfe

table.

“We may have to cancel the season.” He patted his thinning light

brown hair.

I swallowed a laugh. “How can we cancel one of the main reasons

for St. Stephen’s existence?”

“Are you making fun of me?” His voice rose in pitch. “I’m

absolutely serious.” He accepted a mug. “Mary’s husband has been

transferred. It’s a disaster.”

I mentally sorted through all the Marys in the congregation and tried

to decide which one’s leaving would cause Edward to fall apart. Who had

triggered the word of the day? On another level, the need to giggle soared.

Perched on the edge of the chair and holding a teacup with both hands,

My Places

   https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 http://bookswelove.net/

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/

 

Buy Mark

https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/