When the Universe Gives Me a “Thing” – I Make Thingade

 

Yeah, this isn't me. I wish! LOL

It's weird how events in the universe really do have a way of bunching up, creating a “thing” where moments earlier there was nothing. My current “thing” is people telling me how to do my job as a writer better. I'm not talking about editors, they're supposed to tell me how to do my job better. #:0) I'm talking about people who haven't written over 50 books. Or even 1 book. Here are my thoughts on that.

Prior to becoming a full time writer, I spent a couple of decades in Corporate America, following orders and having little control over my work. One of the big reasons I worked so hard to step out on my own was so that I could be the master of my own fate. You should also know that I take the quality of my work and efforts extremely seriously. I'm a typical “Type A” personality and nobody is harder on me than me. LOL

I do listen to you when you tell me something bothers you. I really do. I care deeply what you think. My goal is to provide books that fill a need within us both. It's a lofty goal, one which I fail on a regular basis. Because the adage that you can't please everybody all the time is oh so true.

But in the end, my business is my business. I'm going to run it the way I see fit, based on years of practice, training, and experience. I'll definitely make mistakes. It's part of improving and growing. But I'll learn from those mistakes and hopefully do better in the future.

You might think I should do something one way, when my experience says it won't work the way you see it. That's cool. I'll listen, consider your suggestion, and then do what I think is right for me and my business. If you tell me there's a typo in my books I'll change it. Overused words? I'll go in and fix them. I want my books to be as good as they can be.

But if you want to send me emails berating me and flinging condescending demands my way, I'm probably going to just hit delete and remove you from my sphere. Because doing what I do every day is hard enough without dealing with negative, irrationally angry people.

That's just the way it has to be.

So be kind to your favorite author. We're not monsters because we missed a typo. We're not impostors because we ended a book in a way you didn't like. We're just people whose specialty is writing. We're trying our best to create books that touch something inside our readers.

If you cut us we bleed. If you insult us we either get hurt or angry (or both). And if you treat us as if we owe you something…well…we'll probably decide we don't need you in our lives.

And that would be a shame for both of us.

xx

Sam

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Win a Copy of Vlad-Handing!

I just received the paperback copies of Vlad-Handing so I thought it would be fun to do a giveaway! I'll give a signed copy of the book to 2 lucky winners. What do you have to do to win? Just read the excerpt and comment below to be added to the drawing. I'll choose 2 winners on March 31st and announce them in the Group!

Make sure you leave your email so I can contact you if you win!

Good luck!

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Detective Peters climbed slowly out of his unmarked SUV and stood in the street, looking at the building with a frown on his face. He obviously thought he was in the wrong place.

Flo opened the front door and called out to him, motioning him inside.

His look of perplexity soon turned to one of disapproval. “Mrs. Bee. Why am I here?”

She looked around to make sure nobody noticed his arrival. “Hurry up, come inside.”

He narrowed his gaze but did as she asked. “Is TC here?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I can’t imagine any other reason you would have come to this…place.”

Flo shook her head. “That’s not important. We need to talk about Parks.”

But he wasn’t listening. He was staring at Agnes. “Why is she standing there with her hands out and her eyes closed?”

Flo rolled her eyes. “She says she’s meditating.”

“Standing up?”

“Don’t ask,” Flo told him. “Agnes! Will you join us please?”

Her friend opened one eye and gave the Detective a wary look. “I’m fine right here. I think I’ve come to grips with the germs in this two square foot area.”

Peters chuckled, earning himself a glare from the germaphobe. “Oh. You’re not joking.”

“Look around, Detective. Do you think I’m joking?”

“Whatever.” He dismissed Agnes, focusing on Flo. “If you have an idea where Trisha is, tell me now. We’re wasting time. I can’t shake the feeling she’s in trouble.”

“I already told you. Parks has her.”

“Mrs. Bee, we’ve been over this…”

“And you refuse to see what this man is capable of. I’ve seen, Detective. More than once. You have to trust me. TC’s life may depend on it.”

He sighed. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

Flo filled him in on her encounter with Buddy Parks at the diner.

Peters looked very unhappy when she was finished. “Did anyone else hear him threaten you?”

“No. He’s too smart for that.” Frustration made her frown. She knew Peters thought her feelings about Parks were coloring her opinion and she was afraid he’d dismiss her concerns because of it.

She was right. Peters shook his head. “I can’t confront the man based only on your word, Flo. I’m sorry.”

Flo fought tears. “You’ll be very sorry if TC gets hurt because you’re just too dang stubborn to listen.”

He looked at the floor, his face flushed and his jaw tight. He was obviously angry at her. But he was also worried. And Flo hoped that would be enough to make him see reason.

“I’m not asking you to arrest Parks. Just stop by his home or place of business and see what you can see.”

“If he does have TC he’ll just lie about it,” Peters told her, looking miserable.

“Use your instincts, Detective. You have very good ones.”

He expelled air. “I guess it’s worth a try.” When he caught Flo’s eye again his gaze was taut with fear. “TC’s in trouble and I feel helpless.”

She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I have a feeling this will all end tonight.”

“Mrs. Bee, whatever you’re planning you need to give it up. You’re not equipped to deal with a murderer. Leave that to the police.”

Flo shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Agnes and I are just staying here while our apartments are fumigated.”

He glanced toward Agnes and her friend quickly closed her eye. “Om,” she chanted, her eyes squinched shut.

“I got your om,” Peters muttered. He stopped at the door. “I mean it, Flo. Go home and give this up. The last thing TC would want is for you two to get hurt because of her.”

 

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Don't forget to comment below and leave your email. Good luck!

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Sneak Preview of Humpty Bumpkin – Book1 in a Brand New Cozy Mystery Series

Humpty Bumpkin – Book 1: Country Cousin Mysteries

April 2018

The whole communication revolution thing is a mixed bag of wonderful and tedious. Things like cell phones are a revelation, allowing twenty-something women like me, who have trouble sitting still, to stay in touch with the important people in their lives.

But even the best innovations have their downside.

For example, a wise woman once told me never to answer a phone call whose number you don’t recognize. Answer at your own risk, my cousin Felicity proclaimed one rainy day in the arboretum.

And I’ve since learned the intelligence of her advice. Several times over.

One would think I’d learn. Wouldn’t one?

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Joey Fulle?”

I frowned, not liking the “I want to sell you a bridge” tone of his voice. “Nope, sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”

“Actually, I believe I have the right number, Miss Fulle.”

“You’re not right,” I said quickly and disconnected before the man on the other end of the phone had a chance to give me bad news. I had no idea what kind of bad news I was expecting. But I knew it was there, lurking like a vulture in a tree, ugly and ravenous.

My dog, Cacophony, Caph for short, bounded up and stopped in front of me, a clump of fur between her jaws. I grimaced. “Caph, what did you do? Have  you killed something again?”

A blond pitbull with gorgeous green eyes, Caph bounced several times, her muscular haunches springing her several feet off the ground each time, and then barked happily and ran off again, tail whipping the air. I sighed, knowing I should follow her and see if I could save whatever she’d decided to “play” with.

My phone rang again. I hit Ignore and trudged after Caph. “Caphy girl, where’d you get off to?”

The distant sound of barking drew me to a copse of old trees, their gnarled branches bigger around than I was and tangled together high overhead. It was behind one of these, an elegant old Elm tree whose knobby arms spread wider than the rest, that mostly hid my dog. I could see her butt wagging happily as she moved around behind the tree.

“Caph, come!”

My sweet Pitty bounced out from behind the distant tree and grinned at me, her entire body vibrating with excitement. “What have you found, girl?” I murmured to myself. “Come on, Caph.”

But she turned back to whatever she was exploring. That was when I realized she must have cornered something. I picked up the pace and hurried in her direction.

By the time I was fifteen feet away I smelled the rotting stink of meat and knew that, whatever she’d found, I wouldn’t be saving it.

Real panic set in. “Caphy, you come here right now!”

My dog disappeared behind the tree and I growled with frustration. But a moment later she reappeared and started heading in my direction, something hanging out of her mouth. “Ugh!” I fought an impulse to turn and run. Being corpse-woman was not tops on my list of favorite things.

In fact, I was pretty sure it wasn’t on the list at all. “Drop it, Caph.”

Of course she ignored me, her steps becoming bouncier and more excited the closer she came. Clearly she wanted to share her treasure with me. I didn’t know how to impress upon her that having a mangled, half dried corpse of a bunny or squirrel dropped on my shoes didn’t take me to my happy place.

My usual response of shrieking and running screaming away from her treasure just didn’t seem to make an impression.

She was a very bull-headed pitty. I grinned at my pun.

Caph ran up and dropped to her haunches a few feet away. She kept hold of the object, which I was trying hard not to look at, as if she was afraid I was going to take the treasure away from her. She would be right about that. But it wasn’t going to happen until I had a bag or something to use so I didn’t have to touch it. I tried one more time to get her to let loose of whatever she was clutching between her jaws. If I was really lucky I could convince her to drop it and would be able to drag her home.

To my shock she lowered her head and dropped the contents of her mouth.

I glanced down. My stomach did a painful little dance and I think I might have yelped. Caph was watching me very carefully, letting the object lie there as if checking to see how I would react. I was glad it was out of her mouth.

In fact, I would have been elated about it.

But I was too busy shrieking and running away.

Stay Tuned for More!

Posted in Mystery, Sneak Preview, Thursday Tidbit, Upcoming release | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments