Guest Post by Mae Clair.

Today I’m thrilled to host talented Author Mae Clair! I’ve personally read and enjoyed a number of her books and she comes highly rcommended! She’s here to discuss a new anthology created by seven authors, including herself. They all have something in common,  murder and mystery. You can find out more about purchasing your copy at the end of this blog.

Thank you for visiting! I’ll let Mae take it from here.

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Thanks for hosting me today, Mark. I’m delighted to be here sharing news of an anthology in which I have a short story.  Murder They Wrote brings together seven authors writing in various sub genres of whodunits and various time periods.

 

You can see the variety reflected in the blurb: 

Anthology Cover  Murder comes in 7 different genres. By 7 different authors.

Are you a fan of courtroom drama? In the anthology’s first story, Abraham Lincoln defends a friend’s son against a charge of murder.

For lovers of speculative fiction, Jason Fogg dissolves into mist to sneak through open windows and snoop for clues.

How about a cozy? Jazzi, Jerod, and Ansel discover a dead body while renovating a kitchen, dining room, and half bath.

Have a craving for a Regency? Lord Peregrine and his wife, Elizabeth, use their sharp minds and quick wit to solve a murder at a garden party.

Need a bit of literary fiction? A young, lonely widow must deal with the theft of a valuable butterfly collection.

And what about a little psychological horror? Twin sisters discover that their attic is haunted by not one, but two ghosts.

Last, but never least, the anthology concludes with a historical mystery. A young, newly married knight is accused of murdering his obnoxious host at a holiday gathering in his castle.


I am so pleased to be part of this anthology with such an excellent group of authors. My story, A Winter Reckoning, gave me a chance to play outside of my usual supernatural mystery genre. Naturally, the mystery is still there, but this tale lacks for a supernatural presence. No ghosts or creatures.

What you do get is a young knight who accepts a task that would normally fall to his father who has been detained at court. That leaves Richard Essex to escort his mother’s closest friend to a holiday party, in order to protect her from the party’s lecherous host. To complicate matters, the father-in-law who despises him is among the guests.

One of my favorite parts of writing this story was in creating the roster of suspects. It was fun to “stack the deck” with so many potential killers. The pleasure of a mystery rests in trying to piece together the clues and identify the killer before the lead character does. Richard has his hands full with so many suspects. It’s my hope you’ll be guessing, too—trying to discern who has the strongest motive when the host ends up dead. Did I mention Richard is blamed?

My story is just one of seven in which you can do plenty of sleuthing!

Murder They Wrote offers a variety of clever tales in which there are clues to be found, red herrings to avoid, and villains to unmask. And because each short story is a complete mystery, you can engage your detective skills a little at a time, or all at once as your mood dictates.

Thanks again for having me as your guest today, Mark!

Meet Mae Clair and find out more about how to get in touch and purchase her works!

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Connect with Mae Clair at BOOKBUB and the following haunts:

Amazon| BookBub| Newsletter Sign-Up
Website | Blog| Twitter| Goodreads| All Social Media

Bio Box 04-23-19

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #15 #IARTG #ASMSG @pursoot #WritingCommunity #fiction

pursootfictionchallengeHappy Sunday! Here is my take on talented Author Suzanne Burkes’ weekly Fiction In a Flash Challenge.  Authors are invited to write a short story about the photo shown. Please click on the above link to go to her blog site. Thank you so much, Suzanne for hosting this regular challenge!

Rosemary’s Treasure

“Grandma, are you sure you want to go up there? They’re in bad shape, and your hip.”

“Oh, pish posh,” Rosemary waved dismissively. “Should have done this years ago and those were built when quality counted.”

“That was seventy-seven years ago. This place has been abandoned for—”

“Twenty years, other than some vandalism, the bones are solid.”

“Maybe, but yours aren’t. Please, just let me have a look. The third floorboard from the back wall of the closet, right?”

Rosemary patted Emily’s hand. “I need to do this myself, with a bit of help from you.”

Emily wiped a tear and hugged her grandmother. “I understand. You were eight and you’ve waited this long. It was your only hope. All these years . . . ” Her grief soaked the purple shawl.

“Shh . . . I’ve made my peace. This must be done before I see him again. I pray God will allow it in Heaven. Father has the other half, that’s why they never found it on him.”

Rosemary’s eyes stung but she must show restraint, be the brave girl that her father had said she was just before he left for the Great War. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Emily broke her embrace and took the tissue from Rosemary.

“But you must let me check each tread before you step on it and let me guide you. Those are my rules, I’m sorry. I love you too much to lose you.”

Rosemary nodded. “Agreed.”

They moved ahead, arm in arm, with Emily sweeping away the debris with her foot to clear a path. At the base of the stairs, she tested the railing and was satisfied.

“You see, built to last. The stairs will be the same, though the third step might creak. I learned to avoid that one when I’d sneak downstairs after bedtime to grab an extra cookie.” She pointed to the room they’d just left. “My parents would be sitting in their chairs, Mother with her nose in a book, while Father would be asleep. I never got caught, but sometimes I think Mother knew.” Rosemary smiled.

The stairs proved to be every bit as resilient as promised, but every tread protested the disturbance.

The hideous orange and white floral-patterned linoleum flooring installed by the last tenants had chunks missing and revealed the hardwood underneath. Decay wasn’t always bad.

Emily gingerly walked her grandmother across the tripping hazard to the first room on the left. Time had left only a thick layer of dust, cobwebs, and a musty smell in the barren room.

“Hmmm . . . used to be a lot bigger,” Rosemary said. She blamed her watering eyes on the dust and mold. “I loved this room, but after Father was gone, well, we had to move.”

She sighed deeply and shuffled towards the tiny closet. Emily’s hand went to grab her arm, but she brushed it off. “I’m good for now, but I’ll need you to help me kneel.”

The old woman reached the closet and Emily helped her to her knees.

Rosemary struggled to remove the floorboard and Emily offered to help.

“No! I must do this!” Her face softened and her tears splattered into the floor dust. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to snap. This arthritis is making it hard. Did they nail it down?”

After what seemed an eternity, the board yielded, and was hoisted with a collectively  held breath. Would it still be there?

Emily handed over the flashlight. The small beam illuminated only cobwebs and dirt. Rosemary dug frantically to clear them, and the light reflected off a silver object lying in between the floor joists.

Rosemary picked up the necklace with shaky hands. Emily gasped, for there it was, the legendary object that she’d heard about since early childhood.

A heart, with one half missing, the other half perhaps lay on a faraway battlefield.

Rosemary clutched the jewelry to her heart, and then wept loudly. Emily rushed to her side and tried to console her grandmother through her own tears.

It took several moments to recover, and Rosemary showed her the inscription in the heart. Because of the shape and the missing piece, it read, ALW TOGE . . . Always Together.

“Oh Grandma, is that true? Do you really believe that?”

“Yes, Emily, all of my life I knew he was there, and soon I will get to see him again and this heart will be whole.”

Don’t be a Cheechako! Trivia Answers Revealed.

Good morning, afternoon, or whatever time you find yourself reading this post. Now, before we put our Mackinaw jackets on to prepare for the frigid climate of a wintry Yukon, I want you to stretch out. If we’re going to find some gold, then a lot of digging needs to be done.

Oh alright, we’ll just do one exercise. It’s a simple one, all you need to do is shrug and roll your eyes. Got It? Bully for you! Now repeat after me, “I am ready to “expand” my mind with useless trivia that has no practical value, whatsoever.”

Do this three times . . . now you’re in the proper mindset.

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Duffer:

A:  a slow-witted man

Bunco:

C: anything phony or deceptive

Barabas:

A: Indigenous homes along the lower Yukon River built half underground, inhabited in winter.

Kanin:

C: an ornately decorated dugout canoe

Now, in case your head can take more, here are some bonus words:

Cheechako:  Someone new to Alaska or the Yukon; originally, a gold rush newcomer.

Sourdough (yes, it’s a type of bread, too)  A person who has survived at least one winter in Alaska

Now for some cool nineteenth century slang to use at your next social(ly distanced) function:

Catawamptiously chewed up: utterly defeated

“Face it, Zena, I’ve won ten rounds of rock-paper-scissors. You have been catawamptiously chewed up.”

Catch a weasel asleep: in reference to trying to surprise a person who is always alert.

“Good luck with the surprise party for Charlie, you might as well catch a weasel asleep.”

Hornswoggle, honey-fuggled: to cheat

“Mary Anne, you’re nothing but a honey-fuggler! You’ve somehow predicted the bingo numbers.”

Wake snakes: make a lot of noise, cause a ruckus, or just have a great time.

“Let’s wake snakes with this Pampered Chef party!”

 

 

 

 

Don’t be a Cheechako!

I hope everyone had a good weekend, in particular my friends to the south who celebrated Independence Day weekend.

I haven’t done this in quite some time, but folks seem to enjoy it, so today I’m bringing out another word trivia. Now, these are not just any words, they are connected with my upcoming book. They stretch back to the days of the Klondike.

Please, if you can, practice ‘googlestraint’ and I’ll give you the answers in my next blog. Have fun!

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Duffer:

A:  a slow-witted man

B:  the front bumper of a dog sled

C: a con man who is terrible at his trade

D: combining brass filings with gold dust to fool the weigh scales

Bunco:

A: a card game that evolved from Poker during the Klondike

B: a gold claim with very few, if any, yields

C: anything phony or deceptive

D: a low-class drinking establishment

Barabas:

A: Indigenous homes along the lower Yukon River built half underground, inhabited in winter.

B: in reference to the Biblical figure who was released instead of Jesus. A scoundrel who escapes justice.

C: a claim jumper

D: the buckle used to connect the suspenders to a pair of Mackinaw hip-waders

Kanin:

A: the canvas baffle on a rocker box (rocker boxes were used to separate gold from sediment)

B: the pivot pin on a weigh scale

C: an ornately decorated dugout canoe

D: the small overhang usually found on the false front of a business

Happy Independence Day!

Wishing all of my friends down in the U.S.A , a happy Independence Day.

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