Hello blog friends,

Today I'm pleased to welcome award-winning writer Sue Coletta to my site. She has a New Release that she'd like to tell us about. But first, a little about Sue. She and her husband live in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire. Years back I traveled through that beautiful area with family, and it's truly a natural wonder. 

Sue is a prolific writer, and her books include psychological thrillers, mysteries, and true crime/narrative nonfiction. Now, she exclusively writes eco-thrillers. She is an active member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and International Thriller Writers. Feedspot and Expertido.org named her Murder Blog as “Best 100 Crime Blogs on the Net.” She also blogs at the Kill Zone (Writer’s Digest “101 Best Websites for Writers”) and is a Resident Writing Coach at Writers Helping Writers.

Her latest book, Savage Mayhem, is available on pre-order for only .99 cents until April 11th. With that kind of bargain, I rushed to place my order.

​Thank you for inviting me to your blog, Gwen!
​
The early novels of the Mayhem Series are pure psychological thriller. But the series began to change into the eco-thriller genre halfway through book 4. To explain why, I need to backtrack.

I grew up with a houseful of animals. My mother rescued injured wildlife and pet-sat for
anyone who needed a haven for their furred and feathered babies. At an early age, my
brother and I learned to respect the Natural World and to cherish every being within the
Animal Kingdom.
​
For years, I struggled with the atrocities committed against animals (still do). In 2015, a wealthy, entitled trophy hunter shot Cecil the lion with a crossbow and let him suffer for hours while he posed for photos beside him. 

Also in 2017, I learned about a three-year-old Orca named Tokitae aka “Lolita.” Poachers ripped her away from her family pod in 1970, transported her to Miami Seaquarium, and forced her to perform for food. Or starve. For over 53 years, Toki was imprisoned in a tank the size of a hotel pool, isolated and depressed, withering away until her death in 2023. I could never shake the details of Toki’s story. How can anyone think imprisoning an animal is okay?

In 2018, news hit about the death of Sudan, the last male white rhino on Earth. His death shattered me. For the first time, I witnessed how human greed and selfishness wiped out an entire species. And that changed me in such a profound way. No longer could I look away or pretend this crisis didn’t exist.

This passage from Unnatural Mayhem explains how I’d been feeling for years…

Hello blog friends,

I hope you are enjoying the season. In our area, the cherry trees are in bloom. Walking under their branches yesterday, I traveled through time to when I lived in Japan in the 1970s. I loved Spring there.

One of the most poignant memories I have is of little old ladies in kimonos sweeping the sidewalks of the fallen cherry blossoms. Because of this sweet memory, I've written a few tankas of my experience. Poet Colleen Chesebro invites all of us to try to capture spring in syllabic verse. I've included a few seasonal words - cherry blossoms, tranquil dawns, clear nights, Mother Nature, and seasonal attire. I hope you'll journey with me today.

Have a wonderful week, dear friend. ❤️

Hello, blog friends.

Today we celebrate writer ​Jacquie Biggar's new release. Most of you know Jacquie, but if not, she is an award-winning author of romance who has been listed on USA Today's bestseller list. Jacquie describes her books as centered around tough, alpha male characters who fall for strong and independent contemporary women. Sounds intriguing, right?

Jacquie has just released Book 2 of the Defiant Sisters series. I read the first book, Letting Go and couldn't put it down. I'm very much looking forward to Finding Me.

Let's hear from Jacquie!​

Thank you for sharing my new release on your blog today, Gwen. It’s deeply appreciated!

A few years ago, a regular customer of my restaurant lost her husband to suicide. It shocked our small community and devastated her family. They seemed like a happy, loving couple, so what happened?

The same occurred to a famous, well-loved dancer called tWitch. He and his wife had three children, the youngest only two years old. And yet, he, too, is gone.

This led me to wonder (and worry) about the children left behind. How do they handle the loss of their father? Do they blame themselves? Each other?
​
The Defiant Sisters Duet is an exploration of two sisters, Renée and Izzy, affected differently
by the loss and how it eats at the family’s dynamics.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

FINDING ME

Izzy: 
     My life is not like I dreamed it would be. I had the foolish fantasy of finishing high school,
going to college, making something of myself - maybe even becoming famous.
     Instead, I'm the infamous kid of the father who killed himself in the family's backyard.
     How's that for a legacy?

Renée: 
     I came home for my mother's funeral, but I'm staying to mend bridges with my sister. We have another chance, and whatever it takes, we need to come together as a family or live the rest of our lives knowing we let our brother down.
     They say pride goes before a fall, but it doesn't tell us how to avoid the scrapes along the way.

EXCERPT

Izzy

     My stomach is rolling as I walk out on Jay. I can’t believe I quit my job. What was I thinking? Me and my damn redheaded temper. It’s been the bane of my existence ever since I can remember. Dad used to call me his little Scotch Bonnet. It wasn’t until I started school that I
learned he was referring to the pepper in conjunction with my not-so-sweet disposition.

     Dad. It still hurts to think of him, but at least now I can see past the pain to the good times
we shared as a family--Before.

     We had our issues; I wasn’t so young I couldn’t tell Mom and Dad fought more than they
got along, but I figured it was the same in every household across America. Renée would turn up the music in her bedroom during those times; it hurt her to listen to the yelling and cursing. I sat on the bottom tread and gazed up the stairs, waiting for the moment Mom needed me. “Set the table, Elizabeth,” was code for “Get up here and settle your father down.” It didn’t happen often, and it wasn’t his fault. Dad worked hard, and sometimes he needed to let off steam, that’s all. He would drag me onto his knee, his thick arm holding me a little too tight, and tell stories about what he was going to do when his money came in—from where I never figured out—stories of travel and new cars, hotels, and Vegas. He always wanted to go to Las Vegas. Mom would say, “Don’t be silly. We can barely pay the bills,” and it would set him off again, his boozy breath hot on the side of my face. If only I knew then what would happen five years later, I would have… I don’t know, but I would have stopped it somehow. And that’s on me. Instead of being there when my parents needed me most, I was at a stupid party kissing a boy I barely liked on my sweet sixteenth. The night our lives changed forever.

In her own words: My name is Jacquie Biggar. When I'm not being a klutz, I'm a wife, a
mother of one, a grandmother, and a butler to my calico cat. Watching reality TV shows such as
The Voice and Amazing Race is one of my guilty pleasures. Every Monday night, you can find
me laughing at the judge's shenanigans as I'm plastered to my armchair. I love hanging out with
my husband at the beach, taking pictures, and reading romance novels (what else?). I have a
slight obsession with Tim Hortons, enjoy gardening, everything pink, and talking to my friends.

Hello blog friends,

Has your Spring been as crazy as mine? One day it's sunny and warm, the next day it's hailing or snowing. The unpredictable nature of this time of the year makes it hard to plan and especially difficult to prepare the garden for seedlings. 

Colleen Chesebro invites all of us to try to put our local experience into a poem about the season. I've tried to capture my part of the world with words such as storms and cold nights, March winds, forage, and snow flurry. And I've created two tanka for that purpose. 

Here's my contribution: 

I hope you have a wonderful week with plenty of sunshine. Fingers crossed for good hiking days. Even thirty minutes in nature gives us needed inner strength. 🌞

Hello blog friends,

Today I've a special guest, writer Jan Sikes. She has a new release, and she's eager to share a bit about the book with all of us. 

Most of you know Jan. She's a prolific and award-winning author. Her books always touch the heart. I'm looking forward to turning the pages of her new book, A Beggar's Bargain, especially after reading her excerpt below.

Since this is the first book of a series, I suspect A Beggar's Bargain will set the stage for those that follow. 

Jan, welcome to my humble home away from home!

I am so thrilled to be a guest on your blog today, Gwen. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having me here so I can talk about my new book, A Beggar’s Bargain.

As I was writing this story, an unexpected twist and new character came into it that added an additional layer to the story. A young boy named Tab is living in a treehouse in the woods on Layken Martin’s farm. Sara Beth gets glimpses of him and finds food missing from the kitchen, but the day she finds him leaves her heartbroken for the boy. Take a look: 

     After a few minutes of traipsing through underbrush, her (Sara Beth’s) nose twitched. Smoke! She scanned the area for the source.

     Her heart sped up at the thought of finding their elusive visitor.

     A tiny wisp of smoke rose from a stand of trees a hundred feet to her left. She slowed her steps, taking care not to snap a twig or shuffle a leaf.

     With the tiny campfire almost in sight, she ducked behind a large oak and peeked around.

    Bent over the small fire, a young boy who couldn’t be a day over twelve, of slight build with a mop of unruly black curls, stirred the coals.

     She crouched and waited. Surely, the rest of the camping party would show.

    A movement in the tree above the boy caught her eye, and she sucked in a surprised gasp. A crudely built treehouse perched among the branches. It would be easy to miss unless one was explicitly looking upward.

     What to do?

     The last thing she wanted was to frighten the young boy. She couldn’t imagine him living out here all alone.

     After watching for a few minutes, she took a deep breath and made her move. Standing slowly, she called out. “Hello.”
​
     The boy jumped to his feet and shimmied up the tree like a monkey. 

To say it took some time for Sara Beth to earn the boy’s trust is putting it mildly. But he became such an integral part of the story.

Can you imagine being on your own at such a young age? And what happened that sent him into hiding? His incentive to build a shelter spoke volumes about the boy’s abilities and determination to survive.
​
Let’s talk!

BLURB:
​
A shocking proposal that changes everything.

Desperate to honor his father’s dying wish, Layken Martin vows to do whatever it takes to save
the family farm.

Once the Army discharges him following World War II, Layken returns to Missouri to find his
legacy in shambles and in jeopardy. A foreclosure notice from the bank doubles the threat. He
appeals to the local banker for more time—a chance to rebuild, plant, and harvest crops and time to heal far away from the noise of bombs and gunfire.

Only the banker firmly denies his request. Now what?

Then, the banker makes an alternative proposition—marry his unwanted daughter, Sara Beth, in
exchange for a two-year extension. Out of options, money, and time, Layken agrees to the
bargain.

Now, he has two years to make a living off the land while he shares his life with a stranger.
​
If he fails at either, he’ll lose it all.

Hello, blog friends. 

This past weekend I attended a conference in Sedona that focused on the gift of life. Anita Moorjani's workshop was particularly heart-filling. I felt at home and that is a rare experience for many of us. The event was tucked away in the red rocks of that area - where the change of seasons was everywhere present and invigorating. 

This week Colleen Chesebro invites interested poets to focus once more on spring's arrival. I thought about my weekend experience, but yesterday changed my plans. Two roadrunners snuck into our yard and ran around preparing their nest. Last year they laid their eggs under a pile of leaves. The photo below is not mine, but there's much that is similar. I hope you enjoy my two tankas, and I'd love to hear about your spring experience as well.
​

​Have a wonderful week, dear friends. 🌞

Hello blog friends,

I've another poem to share. Colleen Chesebro invites us to compose a syllabic poem about the changing seasons, and I've chosen to focus on the moon's role.

On Sunday, the New Moon rises. Barely visible it announces spring and with this sense of a new beginning, people often pause and send forth their dreams. I have many, and I suspect you do to - for our beautiful planet, for those who struggle in our streets, for our collective brothers and sisters who fear for their lives, for the sick and the lonely near and wide. A new beginning, for this I pray. 

My tanka: 

I hope you have a wonderful week. ❤️