Happy St. Patrick's Day!

How fitting that St Patrick's Day falls on my blog day. With a maiden name of McGarity, let the party begin!

My dad was half-Irish, my mom a little, too. So, today is a big event for me. And it doesn't hurt that I'm living in an Irish community, where the town hall closes for the day, the bars open early, and everybody gathers at 11am in Erin, a small town down the road, to watch the St. Patrick's Day parade. Floats, dancers, horses, and more green beer than you could imagine.

I even bought a box of Lucky Charms for breakfast.

After the parade, shuttle services will begin transports to the bars for more drinking and live music. Later, those still standing will dine on corned beef and cabbage.

St. Paddy's day wouldn't be complete without a good luck toast:

“I've drunk to your health in company,I've drunk to your health alone, I've drunk to your health so many times, I've darn near ruined my own! Here's to me!”

My plan is to avoid the afternoon action, but watch the parade and feast on corned beef.
How about you? Are you celebrating?

Whew! I made it at last!

I'm here! pant, pant. Racing into the library. . .pant, pant. . .firing up laptop. . .pant. . .hooking up to wireless. . .pant. . .need caffeine. . .no. . .not yet. . .must post blog. . .ah ha! I'm on at last!

Whoa!! Checking out comments. . .looks like I've been having waaaaaaay more fun missing in the blogosphere than in real life! Wow! Maybe I should "disappear" more often. And maybe I could find that real life Don Juan. . .or was it Don Jose? Whatever. Don't think I want to see that donkey EVER again. I've got long legs and riding a donkey means my toes are dragging through the cactus. Not fun.

Where am I really? Well, I really AM right in the middle of a desert. A rather famous desert with lots of bright lights and traffic. . .and gambling. You guessed it. Las Vegas. I landed later Sunday night after flying from Los Angeles following the Left Coast Crime mystery conference. And my Las Vegas hostess picked me up from airport and off we went to have dinner. I thought I could post easily on Monday while I was staying at her place and writing. Alas, there was no wireless connection. We take "being connected" for granted in our society nowadays. So, suddenly finding yourself disconnected is disconcerting to say the least.

My apologies to everyone----Cozy Chicks sisters and bloggers, readers, and fans. I regularly post on Monday nights so it's up and ready a little past midnight of every Tuesday. Today, well, better late than never. But. . .it was great to see that all of you guys "out there" came up with your own blog post. Love it, love it.

I'm here in Las Vegas because today, Tuesday, March 16, I was invited to participate in the Henderson Public Libraries regular author interview series called "Carr Chats." They're hosted by New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr who lives here in the Las Vegas area. I was delighted when I was contacted last fall to participate and told then I would add it to my Left Coast Crime conference trip. I love, love, love a chance to meet with readers and other authors. Plus, they have a Q&A session after the interview and booksigning. I'm really looking forward to this.

As for Left Coast Crime mystery conference---it was great as usual. Left Coast Crime is named for our "left coast" or West Coast and is always held in the western part of the country. It's been in Denver, Seattle, San Francisco, Hawaii, El Paso, and this year Los Angeles. Next year, 2011, it will be in Santa Fe, which is a beautiful area in New Mexico. If you've never been to see Santa Fe, this might be a great time to do it. Not only will there be scores of mystery, thriller, and other mysterious authors there, fans and readers and other book people are everywhere. And, it's hard to beat the sightseeing in Santa Fe. It's also the center of some of the finest art being created in the US. No exaggeration. Many painters, sculptors, and other artists have made Santa Fe their home because of its atmosphere and great weather. It would make a great trip, folks.

Okay, enough rambling on. Must post this now. . .then, I can get some caffeine. (Picture Maggie, arms outstretched zombie-style, chanting "Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!" )

Where's Maggie?

Maggie's in transit from one appearance to another.  If she gets to a computer some time today, she may be able to post.  But if not . . .

Tomorrow Deb will be posting.  Don't miss it!

(P.S.  We're not sure we believe Maggie.  Where do YOU think she is -- and what is she doing?  Let us know in the comments section.)

Stupid Spammer Tricks

“Dear Kind Sir or Madam.”

Have you ever received one (or many, many, more) of those emails? The ones with subject lines like: FROM PRINCE GIVMEMONEE. I can’t imagine anyone falling for that or for the email I got today from “The Federal Bureau of Investigation” with a subject line of YOUR ATM CARD. Please. Would they really contact me via email? I think not.

But someone must be opening those emails, otherwise the spamming would stop. It’s just hard to imagine people falling for that stuff with all the warnings out about them.

Many years back, when I was still learning my way around the world wide web, I almost fell for a phishing spam that I mistakenly thought was from my bank, asking for my account information, etc. I had filled out the form and was ready to send it back when something didn’t feel right. I checked on the bank’s home page and found a warning about just that spammer. Whew! Close call. Lesson learned.

Recently, some of my author friends received emails purportedly from another author who was stranded in England, unable to get home, needing funds wired ASAP. Somehow a spammer had hacked into this poor author’s email account and sent out the letters, undoubtedly hoping to make a killing from gullible people wanting to help a friend in need.

Who are these gullible people that keep spammers in business? Have you ever fallen victim to a clever spam letter? What is the one spam that irritates you the most?

Don’t you wish there was a foolproof way to block them?

A Negotiation That Worked

by Leann

Spring has definitely arrived in south Texas. I have the used tissues to prove it. But part of the allergy problem is spurred by everyone and their distant cousin working on their yards. You know, pruning, edging, mowing, mulching. Things I do not do. I don't even have a brown thumb. It's black ... or maybe that color that shows you've voted in an Iraq election. I could kill a house plant in someone else's home.

But my husband loves to be outside. Every year he plants a large vegetable garden consisting of mostly tomatoes. We usually end up with enough tomatoes to feed an entire homeless shelter for the summer. That's to avoid mistakes. The more you plant, the better the odds that you will have plants that survive a freak late frost or even chemical warfare in our neighborhood.

This springtime ritual has been going on for many years. He visits every possible place that might sell tomato plants. (This after trying hard to grow them from seed for a few years. We don't talk about that.) Then he visits the same stores again ... and again. Needless to say this takes plenty of time and energy. And that means that our prune-the-shrubs-fest never seems to happen. Our shrubbery has gone jungle. In fact, some of the bushes have grown so high that no light comes in the house--the windows are obscured. I'm betting the neighbors think we are actually in the witness protection program.

But I understand about priorities--and those tomatoes are a priority. They make him happy. His grandfather was a farmer and I think growing vegetables is in his blood. But the shrubs. Yikes. So this year, when a landscaping crew was cleaning up a neighboring yard, the head of the crew came over to me and asked if I wanted our yard done. Um, that would be a "You bet I do." But this is dicey. See, my husband doesn't really want to do the pruning and shaping and cutting (he has a bad shoulder for one thing) but he doesn't want anyone else to do it, either. It's the guilt. He feels he should be doing it. And that, my friends, is how it never gets done. Then the tomatoes always win--as well they should.

So I got brave--yes, this can be a sore subject--and was able to try a different approach. It went like this: "I know you want to work on your tomatoes, but the yard really needs work. I had an offer. Can I tell the guy yes?"

Hallelujah it worked! Or maybe I'm giving myself too much credit. I think what worked is the realization that some things are a little much now, that we've worked hard and saved our money for moments like this. We are able to pay for someone else to do that which we hate or is just too much work. It's a good feeling if you allow it to happen. But of course, like me when the people are coming to clean and I must clean before they clean, he had to mow and edge first. But after all the work was done by both my husband and the landscapers, man does our yard look magnificent. Mission accomplished.

And now, drum roll ... the winner of the Name That (fictional) Cat contest is ISIS! A cat named for the goddess that she thinks she is. Thanks everyone who helped. Do you like it?

Thay It ithn't tho...

By Lorna

A few weeks ago, we each posted one truth and one lie.  My truth was that as a child I lisped.  Since then, I've done nothing but lisp.

From first to fourth grade, I spent two afternoons a week sitting in front of a mirror while some woman coached me into concentrating on the letter S and making up stories about Sammy the Snake, or repeating silly sentences.  (Although I don't remember actually having to say "She sells seashells at the seashore," at least not during speech therapy classes.) 

Practicing my S sounds was never high on my list, probably because I don't remember ever actually lisping, but my parents confirmed that, yes, I did in fact lisp.  I hated going to speech therapy.  There were usually at least two other kids that I didn't know, and they came and went, whereas I was stuck there for YEARS.  And while I always loathed school, usually I'd miss out on one of my favorite classes (Social Studies -- how's that for a subject that a lisper liked best).

I never had any friends in school, and now I look back and wonder if lisping played a part in that.  Kids can be cruel, and maybe I just found it easier not to interact with them.  I spent a lot of my time reading, although usually not what I was supposed to be reading.  I remember in third grade, I'd read the entire Social Studies book before Thanksgiving, so the rest of the year was kind of a bore--dragging through stuff I'd already read.  But, since I was at speech therapy during that class, I guess it didn't matter in the long run.

The therapist kept telling me I didn't put my tongue in the right place, but since my mouth was shut when I said an S, how was I supposed to know where to put it?  They used to feed us little candies.  "Now put this on the tip of your tongue, put your tongue on the roof of your mouth, and say, 'Sammy snake' three times."  (Is it any wonder I HATE snakes?) Eventually, I stopped going, so I guess I must have stopped lisping.

Most of the time.

When I find myself in times of trouble, it ain't Mother Mary who comes to me, it's Mr. Lisp.  The worst was when I had a boss who lisped.  Ohhh...those were tough times.  He was a really nice man, very smart and funny, but I can't be around anyone who lisps without falling into it again.  That was an awkward couple of years. 

I've lived relatively lisp free since then . . . until I wrote about it a few weeks ago.  I have been in lisp hell ever since.  Just thinking about it can make it happen.  And I can feel it coming on.  It's like my tongue gets too big for my mouth and I dread speaking.  Last May I had lunch with my editor and it was like there was a giant lisp balloon hanging over my head, just waiting for me to screw up.

I visited someone in the hospital last week, a place with gives me the heebie jeebies, and all the while I was there, the big, gassy green LISP BALLOON hung over me.

I had to give a talk on Wednesday, I had a speech all prepared, but I knew I wouldn't be able to give it because that by-now GIGANTIC GREEN LISP BALLOON was dogging my steps.  Luckily, I have fellow author pals to commiserate with.  A couple of them suggested I just write down three points, and wing it.  They were right.  The speech went fine, with nary a lisp to be heard.

Just thinking about writing this post has me back in lisp horror.  So after today, I will not think about it.
Probably until the Agatha awards are announced.  After I lose, I think I'll be feeling a lot better.  At least my tongue will be able to relax.

Anything like this ever haunt you?
=======================
By the way, check out our new Cozy Chicks pages.  Look up at the top left list of links.  Heather, the magnificent, has put up pages giving all the Chicks' backlists (try saying that three times without lisping).  We're still giving away bookmarks -- and will soon have a package available for librarians. 

Spring Ahead

by Heather

I know I’m not the only one who’s relieved spring is just over a week away, right? I’m looking forward to warmth and sunshine and flowers and green grass, and I’m so excited I don’t even care I’ll be losing an hour’s sleep on the 14th.

But there are some cons to spring… Claritin has made its first appearance in the house this week. Hello, seasonal allergies. And for me, I always have nightmares this time of year, of tornadoes that come in the middle of the night and destroy everything. Shudder. I *despise* those dreams.

And perhaps the biggest con of the season: spring cleaning. What’s your worst chore? For me, it’s the mini blinds. I’ve never managed to find an easy way to clean them, which makes me dread it, which makes me put it off, and soon it’s just easier to buy new blinds!

Closets need to be cleaned out of winter gear. The oven needs to be cleaned (I always wait until it’s warm enough to open the windows). The fridge needs a good cleanout too.

Spring always means home improvement, at least in my house. It’s the perfect time to paint. Rugs need to be steam-cleaned. The shutters really need a coat of paint. The house needs a bath, which means renting a power washer. And the big project—completely remodeling the kids’ bathroom (trust me—it needs it).

On the whole, the good outweighs the bad by far. And some of that may be because I love home improvement projects (though I’m a bit scared about tackling that bathroom), or maybe because I’m not the one with the allergies…and I can even deal with the nightmares as long as I can wake up and see the beautiful flowers.

Just one more week...

~Heather

BBC Me!

By J.B.

Big sigh of relief. I’ve just finished a book and have handed it off to my first reader. This gives me a week to relax, read, and watch some BBC films before I have to make final corrections and email it to my editor.

Why BBC? What’s wrong with the American films available at my local Blockbuster store?

I choose BBC productions more and more as I get older, delighting in the character development and beautiful scenery.

Here are some of my favorites:

1. Cranford
2. Pride & Prejudice
3. Emma
4. Jane Eyre
5. Persuasion
6. Rosemary & Thyme
7. Monarch of the Glen (only the first couple seasons)
8. The House of Elliot
9. Midsomer Murders
10. Sherlock Holmes

I’ve watched these films/series over and over again and am ready for something new. I’ve heard The Last Detective is good and I’ve also been told to get my hands on Ballykissangel.

Can you help me indulge in a little BBC next week and recommend a new series or film?

Deb Baker's New Look

Blatant Self Promotion Warning!

Here's the new me! Am I cute or what? And as Hannah Reed I'm smarter, a better writer, and way younger. I am the Queen Bee. Yesterday, I discovered the first Queen Bee mystery is available for pre-order on Amazon. Kind of stumbled across it, which is the way we authors discover things.

And the cover design for Buzz Off arrived. Here's a sneak peek.

A little about it:

It’s September—National Honey Month—in Moraine, Wisconsin, and things are looking up for Story Fischer. Her messy divorce is final; the honey from her beekeeping business has been harvested; and the Wild Clover, the market she owns, is thriving. Life seems pretty sweet until her mentor in the honey business is found stung to death in his apiary.

Story is still trying to explain to the panicked locals that Manny was killed by wasps, not honeybees, when another body is found floating in the Oconomowoc River. This time the evidence points to Story’s ex. Sure, Clay’s a womanizer and a buzz kill—but a murderer? With the townsfolk stirred up against her honeybees, and a handsome cop—who also happens to be Story’s former high school sweetheart—putting Clay in cuffs, it’s up to Story to get them both out of a very sticky situation.

Now, I've always blabbed about the importance of pre-orders when it comes to an author's career, and I'm not about to stop now. Even though Buzz Off isn't available until September 7th, I'm going to offer you a sweet spring deal. Pre-order Buzz Off before May 1st and prove it by sending me a copy of the receipt - either email (hannahreed51@gmaildotcom) or snail mail (email me for the address) and you'll be entered in the May 1st drawing for a honey of a mystery prize. Your favorite brick-and-mortar bookstore will handle the pre-order for you. Or to order right now from Amazon (so you don't forget), Click here

See, I warned you about the BSP. So what do you think of my new cover?

Bloggers' Choice for Oscars

I decided to use the Oscar ceremony Sunday evening as part of my tax prep time. I pretend to watch something on TV, like the talking heads news shows, while I'm going through all the receipts accumulated during my writing-related business travel last year. It's a relatively painless way to accomplish a necessary but tedious task while something mildly distracting is going on in the background.

I have to admit, the entire ceremony is waaaaaaaay too long and drawn out. I was only interested in the actual awards, not the Hollywood hoopla. So it seemed to take forever to finish up, and when it did, it was a surprise. I haven't seen THE HURT LOCKER, but I have seen AVATAR. Now, I will definitely go to see the Oscar-winning Best Movie, THE HURT LOCKER and see what I think. Sometimes I agree with the Academy's selections. Sometimes I don't. That's fine. It's a free country, and we can agree to disagree.

I did agree with the Oscar Awards for Best Actress, Sandra Bullock, and Best Actor, Jeff Bridges. I've watched and enjoyed both these professionals act for years and years and appreciated and loved their work, even when they were underrated. Hurrah! They were finally recognized.

I wasn't familiar with the Supporting Actors' movies, so I'll have to check them out, too. After all, that's one of the reasons for having the Oscar Awards, right? First, to recognize excellent acting directing, screenwriting, and moviemaking. And second, to entice the audience to go see the movies.

So----what do you folks think? Do you agree with the Academy's choices for the Oscars? Which movie would you vote for year's Best? Best Actress? Best Actor? Supporting? Share your thoughts.

An Astounding Stroke of Luck

Sometimes it seems as if the stars are aligned against you. Other times, they are so lined up in your favor that it gives you goose bumps. In the first instance, my return trip from Athens was a great example of the “against” mode: a defunct flight that was supposed to take us to Frankfurt to catch our ride home; a missed connection when rerouted to Rome; a missed flight to the US; lost luggage; no place to stay in Germany – and the worst case scenarios just kept on happening.

But yesterday – wowzers! So many stars were aligned FOR me that I’m still a little shell shocked. Let me explain the amazing set of coincidences.

I received an email Saturday morning from fellow cozy chick Lorna Barrett alerting me to a message from Facebook friend David Chadoir. The message is as follows:

“A very special treat for Cozy Chick Kate Collins (this will knock your socks off). This early morning in Abu Dhabi, I was watching CNN International program "Backstory." I was bleary-eyed and half asleep. A reporter was interviewing a young man in Haiti and they went with him to his home. He pointed out various things in his bedroom, then he said: "This is my book, my English book." The reported asked him if he learned English from that book. He said, "Yes I did." The book was EVIL IN CARNATIONS by Kate Collins!!! In the attached clip, he points out the book at 3:09 minutes into it. CONGRATULATIONS, KATE! I've never read one of your books, but I will now.”

Here’s the link if you want to watch it. The young man is so eloquent and it’s very touching. http://tinyurl.com/yksr9jr
(Be prepared for a brief commercial before it starts). As David points out, the book appears about 3 minutes into the clip.

What is truly astounding is how many stars had to align to bring that to my attention. First, that David happened to be watching CNN that morning. Second, that the reporter happened to pick that boy to interview. Third, that the boy happened to get one of my books – no doubt through book donations – and is using it to learn English. Fourth, that David happened to know of the Cozy Chicks and took the time to contact us. As I said, astounding.

Have you ever had one of those serendipitous happenings? Or the worst case scenarios that just kept piling up?

Oh, and I have a favor to ask. I’m searching for a title for my March 2011 book. The tricky part is melding a vampire theme with flower terms. I’ve come up with a few, but none have been a hit with my editor. If anyone wants to try a hand at titles, I would appreciate it – and if your idea is a hit with my editor – I will dedicate the book to you AND use your name as a character. It needs to be 3-5 words in length. Anyone want to try?

My Oscar Ignorance and One More Cat Name Vote

by Leann

Before I get to my cat name dilemma (too many names had the same number of votes), I must address the big event this Sunday: the Academy Awards. It is what's on everyone's mind, right? Well, not mine completely. But this year, I am pondering how my take on this show has evolved over the years.

I used to love watching award shows. But mostly the Oscars. Couldn't wait. Saw all the movies and had my favorites written down. This red carpet, celebrity business was none of my business. All I cared about was the movies and the acting. I had my favorites, rooted for my movies and enjoyed popcorn and Pepsi (never Coke, always Pepsi). As my kids grew up and we went to more and more movies together--especially my daughter and me--they shared the same anticipation.

Maybe all good things must come to an end. Once the kids were gone, our movie attendance dropped dramatically. Then I got sick with Lyme and other nasty stuff. Being that close to strangers for several hours was too risky. I was sick enough as it was without risking getting even sicker. This past Christmas was the first time I'd been to the movies in two years. Only Sherlock Holmes and Robert Downey could convince me it was time to return. Loved the movie, but it's not up for anything.

Here's a poorly kept secret: I would love to be nominated for an award. And I think that's another reason why the shine is off the Oscar for me. When you want something very bad, dream about it, make it a goal, and year after year, nothing happens, you begin to think that you're just not good enough. At least I do. So watching a show where people dress up and say wonderful things to the crowd as they are honored by their peers gives me a little pang in the gut.

But Sherlock Holmes isn't up for any awards, is it? And yet it drew me out of my movie-phobia. And I was totally entertained, taken away for two hours. I figure that's my job. Not to win something--because really, I've already won. But rather to entertain. Take people to another place where the story can offer up some fun. I think I do that. Will I cross that wish for an award off my goal list? Probably not. But it just doesn't seem as important as it did even six months ago. I sure hope when I watch the Oscars (and none of that red carpet nonsense that I so dislike) that I won't feel that little pain in the stomach anymore. After all, I'll never be up for an Oscar. :-)

Now, I need your help for one more fictional cat name vote. Remember, this is a spoiled, green-eyed, long-haired black cat. And try to think how easy (or difficult) it would be to call a cat by one of these names when you cast your vote. Please send ONE choice to leann_sweeney@hotmail.com so we can pick a name. This sure has been fun and I thank you all so much for offering up such wonderful choices. Top vote getters in no particular order:

Truffles
Godiva
Scarlett O'Hara
Minou
Cleopatra
Cashmere
Coco
Raven
Onyx
Isis

What's your one favorite from this list?

The Power Of One Amazing Reader

By Lorna


Last week, I posted on my personal blog about the upcoming cover for the Large Print edition of Bookplate Special.

Ah...Bookplate Special. It holds a pretty special place in my heart.  I got to write about some pretty uncozy things that I feel are important, things like recycling, food pantries and the working poor, and even an embarrassing medical condition.  Several readers accused me of having an AGENDA for the first two topics.  (I've yet to figure out how being a good citizen of the Earth and helping people in need constitutes any kind of agenda, but -- WHATEVER -- and if they decide not to read any more of my books because of it, "So long, and thanks for all the fish!")

When I received the cover for Bookplate Special I was absolutely THRILLED.  Except for Miss Marple being outside (she's strictly an indoor cat, as are all my real cats--but then it's important to the Marketing Dept. to have her on the cover), it's absolutely perfect.  My cover artist, Teresa Fasolino, is superb.  (Man, would I love to own the original painting of that cover.)  But, as usual, I digress.

So naturally I was a teensy bit upset when I saw the Large-Print cover.  It was dark, it was scary (I mean, a skull and crossbones right next to the words "recipes included" would not make me want to eat any of the food mentioned in the book).  It didn't say cozy mystery to me.  I wasn't happy, and I shared that unhappiness with my blog readers.

Mind you, I have one goal:  TO SELL BOOKS.  The cover up on Amazon
wasn't going to do the trick.

To be honest, I didn't think there was anything that could be done about the cover, but one of my Guppy Sisters in Crime, a former editor, encouraged me to write and ask if something could be done it.  I have no contacts at Wheeler (an imprint of Cengage, the parent company), but I did write two books for one of Cengage's imprints, FIVE STAR.  I wrote to my editor and asked about changing the cover, reminding her that this book spent three weeks on the New York Times bestsellers list, and was now an Agatha nominee.  (Okay, I was bragging a little--but as I said, this book is SPECIAL to me, and I wanted it to have a nice send off in Large Print, too.)

I expected nothing to happen.  I figured I'd just move on, and in fact had a lot more on my mind than the cover once I'd sent off that email.  (Hey, I've got a hubby with a new knee and a sick cat to take care of, not to mention a synopsis that was due and a book that's falling behind.)

I'd been out of the house for 10 hours when I finally got a chance to check my email on Wednesday night, and one note in particular jumped at me (or, at least the subject line did).  It was a note from a fan, a very happy fan, of Bookplate Special.  She happens to be a librarian, and somehow she figured out who to write at the publisher and request that someone look at the cover and perhaps do something about it.

They changed it.  (Honest!!!)

I couldn't believe the power of one reader.  (Although the editor at Cengage who wrote to me did say she'd read my blog entry, as well.)  The thing is, I had no idea this reader would try to contact the publisher.  I never expected a reader to go to bat for me.  It was such a wonderful surprise, and the lovely letter I received from the publisher was heartening, as well.  Not only that, but she said they'd just bought the large print rights to CHAPTER & HEARSE, and that she would pay special attention to that cover, too.  Whoopie!

Am I pleased with this new cover?  You better believe it, baby.  THIS COVER WILL SELL BOOKS.  It's cute!  It's says, COZY MYSTERY.  It shows a stylized view of Angelica's cafe, Booked For Lunch.  My eyes immediately zeroed in on the silhouette of the woman with the pony tail and something in my mind screamed:  BARBIE!  Barbie, having a sundae at Booked For Lunch! 

I love Barbie!  (I have since I was a kid.)  Barbie on the cover is going to net me a LOT of readers of "a certain age," which is exactly the demographic you shoot for with a large-print book.


Besides, that, though, it's just a lovely, cheerful cover.  If I had no idea of the book's outcome, this cover would still say to me, "You're going to feel good reading this book."  There are some serious topics included in the book, but there's also a happy ending--or at least a happy end chapter.  (I don't know about you, but I love happy endings.)

And I'm so pleased that this saga of the Bookplate Special large print cover has a happy ending, too.  And I have one reader to thank:  Mary Fairchild.

Thanks, Mare, you're the best.

So, what do you think of the new cover?

Impulsively

By Heather

As most of you know, I’m not a big shopper. But recently I’ve noticed something about my shopping habits—I’m an impulse shopper.

When I run into Target for two things (two!!!) I come out with twelve. I’ll pick up something “we might need soon” or “maybe I can use this for a giveaway” or “this looks really good” or “I can never have too many purses” – it’s just endless.

My most recent impulse buy was a book (surprise, surprise). I have a to-be-read pile that is near to toppling over it’s so tall. I. Do. Not. Need. Another. Book. Yet, when I ran into Target yesterday for three (three!!!) things I ended up wandering into the book aisle (I went out of my way to wander there, mind you) just to, you know, take a look-see.

I ended up buying Saving CeeCee Honeycutt by Beth Hoffman, which is now my car book (the book I keep in the car for those long waits when I pick up the kids or am stuck in traffic, that kind of thing--does anyone else have car books?). So far, it’s really, really great—so it was a good impulse buy at least.

Do you impulse shop? If so, what was your last buy and do you love it or regret it?

~Heather

About Saving CeeCee Honeycutt (product description):

Steel Magnolias meets The Help in this Southern debut novel sparkling with humor, heart, and feminine wisdom

Twelve-year-old CeeCee Honeycutt is in trouble. For years, she has been the caretaker of her psychotic mother, Camille-the tiara-toting, lipstick-smeared laughingstock of an entire town-a woman trapped in her long-ago moment of glory as the 1951 Vidalia Onion Queen. But when Camille is hit by a truck and killed, CeeCee is left to fend for herself. To the rescue comes her previously unknown great-aunt, Tootie Caldwell.

In her vintage Packard convertible, Tootie whisks CeeCee away to Savannah's perfumed world of prosperity and Southern eccentricity, a world that seems to be run entirely by women. From the exotic Miz Thelma Rae Goodpepper, who bathes in her backyard bathtub and uses garden slugs as her secret weapons, to Tootie's all-knowing housekeeper, Oletta Jones, to Violene Hobbs, who entertains a local police officer in her canary-yellow peignoir, the women of Gaston Street keep CeeCee entertained and enthralled for an entire summer.

Laugh-out-loud funny and deeply touching, Beth Hoffman's sparkling debut is, as Kristin Hannah says, "packed full of Southern charm, strong women, wacky humor, and good old-fashioned heart." It is a novel that explores the indomitable strengths of female friendship and gives us the story of a young girl who loses one mother and finds many others.

Apples

Thank you to the amazing and talented Cozy Chicks for allowing me to borrow space here for a day.

The third book in my Orchard Mystery series, Red Delicious Death, came out this week. I'm still boggled to find myself writing a series about an apple orchard, since I've never been a farmer and I have a brown thumb.

The series came about during a conversation with my then-agent (Jacky Sach, now retired). We were talking about one of my manuscripts that I had sent her, which included the characters and the setting I'm still using. She liked it, but she said that in order to pitch it to Berkley I needed a hook. We were kicking ideas around, and I was thinking about what would be appropriate for the setting (which is based on a real house in a real town). First I thought, organic foods, and then a light-bulb went on in my head, and I said, "apples." Jacky agreed immediately, so I planted an orchard on the property (I can prove there was once one there, but alas, it's gone–save

for one graft that I managed to salvage last year). And thus was a series born.

Apples are at the heart (I thought about saying "core," but...) of our national history. The first orchard was planted in this country only a couple of years after the Pilgrims landed. In the 18th century every household had to have apple trees–for cider (hard or otherwise) in those days, because it was considered healthier than the water–and for pies and for eating over the long winter.

My first real exposure to apples happened when my family moved into a house that had been built in the 1920s, in what had been farm country until then. The front yard was filled with towering apple trees that hadn't been pruned for decades–they were taller than the house. That first year they produced an amazing crop: we were hauling apples out to the back of the property in wheelbarrows, and the discard pile was three feet high. The trees never produced as well again, at least in the few years we lived there.

I remember vividly the first apple I picked directly from a tree and ate–it's still the standard I use for every apple I eat. Of course I'd eaten plenty of apples before, but this was the perfect apple, crisp and sweet and full of flavor. I have no idea what kind it was, but I'll never forget it.

So now I scout out abandoned orchards and heirloom varieties. I make apple pie, apple cake, apple slaw; applesauce and apple butter; pork roast with apples, duck with apples. You name it, I've probably tried it. I can tell you where to find apple wine and apple brandy, even apple vodka (that's something you can make with the ones that are too damaged to sell for eating). I've learned how hard it is to grow perfect shiny apples–and to do that you usually have to blast them with chemicals. I've learned about the scientists at Cornell University who are saving the apple genome, so we don't lose the wonderful diversity of varieties that have survived this long. I've planted two apple trees in my front yard, and I've just ordered two more–all heirloom varieties. And I write about apples (with the occasional murder now and then).

I love apples.

Going Shooting

This is the daily morning scene outside my office window. The Toms are strutting their stuff. The hens are pretty much ignoring them. This photo could have been better. You can see my flash bouncing off the window. The whole thing could be sharper, but you get the idea.

Wouldn't it be great if you could share your photos with me, too. Because these days, everybody is shooting. Ha! You didn't think I was going to shoot my turkeys with a gun, did you?? No way. When I go shooting, it's with a digital camera. Unfortunately, Blogger doesn't have an application for photo sharing. Yet.

Which reminds me of several years ago, when I noticed how popular picture taking was becoming and suggested a photography mystery series to my publisher. The response  - We've tried that in the past and it didn't do well.

Okay, but times change. Interests evolve. Themed series are big right now. Sure, the technology, the mechanics, cameras themselves change, but light, composition, subject matter, all stay the same.  What do you think as a reader?  Would a mystery series about a photographer appeal to you?

Saluting the Winter Athletes

By Maggie

Like most of you, I was fascinated by the Olympic Winter Games. I didn't get to watch all of the events, but I did see several. First of all, I have to acknowledge the progress that the United States has made in mastering winter sporting events. Years ago, the U.S. barely had a presence on the podium. This year. . .wow! Our winter athletes were awesome, truly awesome. We're even medaling in Nordic Alpine skiing and startling the daylights out of the Scandinavian countries who have always owned these sports. Kudos. . .United States athletes. Way to go.

That being said. . .my hat is off to our neighbor to the North, Canada, and the marvelous Canadian athletes. They were a joy to watch---especially in the figure skating events and ice dancing. This was the first time that I found myself more enthralled by the ice dancing than the female figure skating. And the male figure skaters' performances were outstanding--especially our American Gold Medalist who was magnificent.

Still---I absolutely loved watching all of the ice dancers skate to the same tango with the same movements. You could really see the subtle differences in performances---the more fluid movements of one pair, the grace of another, the delicate line of the bodies. And the two pairs who trained together, the Americans and the Canadians, took Silver and Gold. Their performances were outstanding.

As always, the short track speed skating events were riveting. It's fascinating to see them sail around those curves, bodies at 45 degree angles or closer to the ice, fingertips grazing the surface. They're so graceful, yet are ready to break formation in an eyeblink in order to take the lead. And skiing---once there was enough snow on Whistler Mountain---was breathtaking, especially the ski jumping and the slaloms and those mad free-for-all ski races. Plus, the drama. What would Olympic alpine skiing events be with The Drama of the day. Ho, hum.

And then, there were the class clowns, The Kids, the Riders, aka Snowboarders. Here in Colorado, we're used to seeing boarders/riders all over the slopes. They outnumber skiers some days. But it's such fun to watch them at the Olympics. They don't have any "dramas" going on. They're too busy riding and pushing themselves to execute those fantastic routines that I find mesmerizing. Watching them work their boards higher and higher until they're airborne and then maneuver themselves through intricate twists and flips before returning to earth once again. They looked just like all the other snowboarders I've seen---in jeans and shirts, bandannas---and even though they were at the Olympics, they still took the time at the top of the chute to pop in the ear buds, then pull out cell phones from their jeans pockets and text someone, before heading down the chute----ready to ride. Gotta love it.

What was your favorite Olympic event?

Move Your Money!! Hurry!

Mega-bonuses. Subprime lending rates. TARP funds. Off-shore bank accounts. Fraud charges. AAACK. Somebody make it stop!!

I don’t know about you, but I’m really disgusted by what Big Banking did to our economy. I’m sorry, what they CONTINUE to do. I long for the day when we had people like George Bailey in charge. (“It’s a Wonderful Life,” in case my reference sailed past you.)

So I was delighted when I heard about this new movement to take control of our economy away from Those Who Are Ruled By Greed. It’s designed to stop these horrendously bad banking practices by using the power of our dollars. I learned about it this morning on the CBS morning program.

You can check it out for yourself at http://www:moveyourmoney.info

The site is designed so that you can locate a small bank or credit union in your community that will offer lower interest rates on credit, sound loans, higher interest on savings, and personalized service, everything you can’t get from the Big Banks. In other words, your very own George Bailey.

I love the idea, personally, of taking back control. I also love the idea of working together to do something we could not do individually. I don’t have a lot of money in my savings account. But thousands of people grouped together do. Tens of thousands have even more. WE’VE GOT THE POWER, BABY!

Isn’t that exciting?

I’ve used two local banks for decades and am very satisfied. Do you have your money in a community bank? Would you switch? Or do you feel safer with a Big Bank?

Kate, rattling the piggy bank

Congratulations to Our Winner!

And the winner of the random commenter drawing is Katie in Kentucky! You have won a $10 Barnes and Noble gift certificate. Please contact us with your email address at cozychicks@gmail.com. (If we don't hear back within a week, we'll draw another winner.)

Name That Cat! First Vote

by Leann

I am seeking a great name for a very important cat that will appear in my third Cats in Trouble Mystery (out in 4/2011). To help you choose, remember this female cat is long-haired, black, with green eyes, and belongs to a very wealthy woman. She is a super pampered feline.

Please choose ten names from this fantastic list that all of you created and E-MAIL your choices to me at leann_sweeney@hotmail.com Votes cast in the comments are too hard to keep track of, so please e-mail me! Votes in the comments or on a list won't count.

Here goes! Name. That. Cat.

Angel, Antigone, Athena, Amarantha, Angelina, Amora, Absinthe, Alexandra, Angelica, Amaretta, Amour, Ashanti, Alice, Adrianna, Ava, Anastasia, Angelique, Adora Rose

Brandy, Baby, Beluga (like the caviar), Bella, Blase', Belladonna, Bella, Bast (Egyptian cat goddess), Burgundy, Bianca, Beryl

Cleopatra, Cat, Chatte, Chardonnay, Chere, ChiChi (showy or trendy), Cashmere, Chartreuse, Chocolate, Crystal, Charisma, Charlotte, Caroline, Champagne, Cassandra, Coco, Chanel, (or Coco Chanel), Celeste, Contessa, Caviar, Carlotta

Darling, Darcy. Darby, Dalal (means spoiled one), Dazzle, Dahlia, Duchess, Diana, Delilah, Dominique

Emerald, Envy, Ebony, Ezmeralda, Evita, Elizabeth, Ekaterina, Empress, Endora, Elvira

Frisky, Fern

Godiva, Gigi, Gamin

Harriet (the cow in my second book is Harriett), Hazel, Her Royal Highness, Hershey

Izzie, Isabelle, Isis (jet black beauty named after Egyptian goddess of death)

Jade, Jewel, Jasmine, Jezza Belle, Jetta, Juno

Kitten, Kiki LaFleur, Katya, Kali, Katia, Karma, Kahlua

Lolita, Leona, Lily, Latifah, Lola, Loki (Norse god of mischief), Leila

Mercedes, Ms Callie, Maricella, Murphy, Magic, Maxie, Maxine, Mouse, Mousse, Midnight, Margaret, Minx, Midori, Mingnon, Mignonette, Maeve, Melanie, Mirabelle, Mocha, Minou (French for "meow")

Nefertiti, Niala, Noir, Nimue, Ninette

Ophelia, Onyx, Obsidian

Princess, Pandora, Penelope, Precious, Pocohantas, Pyewacket (famous cat that belonged to a witch) Paris, Paris Hilton, Posh, Paree, Peresphone, Priscilla, Peaches, Pinkie

Queen, Queenie

Roxanne, Roxie, Regina, Ruby Petunia, Raven, Rhianna

Sophia Loren, Sophia, Sunshine, Slydell (Sly for short), Smooches, Smitten, Sweetie, Sheba, Scarlett O'Hara, Scarlett, Serena, Sable, Selene, Sasha, Sabrina, Sweetpea, Smoke, Seraphim (highest chorir of angels), Sauda, Sacha, Sin

Truffles, Twyla, Tasha, Tigress, Topaz (for black topaz), Tiara, Tatiana, Tara (for Scarlett's home), Teal, Tessa, Tuxedo

Vivien Leigh, Viv, Vivvy, Velvet, Veronica, Victoria, Veruca

Zsa Zsa, Zahara

Okay. WHEW! What's YOUR favorite character cat name?