Interview with Pat Esden – Reach For You

Give a warm welcome to Pat Esden, author of  Reach For You, book three of Dark Heart  Available for pre-order now, release on June 27, 2017! Don’t miss the rafflecopter at the end of this post.

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Pat Esden and Reach For You.

Hi Tena, Thank you for interviewing me today. I’m excited to be here and to answer behind the scenes questions about REACH FOR YOU (Dark Heart, book 3).

My pleasure Pat.  Tell me, what inspired this particular story?

REACH FOR YOU is the third and final book in the Dark Heart series. The idea for it came to me when I began to brainstorm A HOLD ON ME (Dark Heart, book 1). I wanted the series to end with Annie, the main character, finding her HEA, but I didn’t want it to come easy. To me, the struggles Annie goes through in this book are both emotionally devastating, challenging, and the logical conclusion to the other books.

 Who is your favorite character of all of the books you’ve written and Why?

I don’t think I could pick a favorite. But one of the most fun characters to write in the Dark Heart series was Lotli. She doesn’t physically appear until the second book (there are hints about her in book 1). But once she appears, she brings out both the worst and best in Annie, the main character.  Lotli is mysterious and powerful. She’s a master of magic and manipulation. I enjoyed giving hints about her true past and powers. One of my favorite scenes in REACH FOR YOU is when the truth about Lotli is revealed—and that truth may just be more horrible than Annie suspected.

 Do you see yourself in your characters?

It isn’t something I consciously do, but there is probably a part of me in every character. A lot of Annie’s reactions to Lotli are emotions that I’ve felt at one time or another. Other characters have qualities I admire, like Chase’s selflessness (though in his case it gets him in trouble).

 Where do your story ideas come from? If they come to you in the middle of the night, do you get up and write them all down?

My story ideas usually do start as flashes of scenes or lines of dialogue. I’m more likely to get those while driving and listening to music. I keep pens in my car and in my bag, along with notepads.

When I deep into drafting or revising a novel, I get a lot of ideas when I take a break from my computer. Walking the dog, showering, taking a nap—they all work equally as well. As far as in the middle of the night goes, yes. I used to keep a pad by the bed, but now I’m even more careful to not lose those flashes of inspiration. I’ll turn on a light and write things down at my desk or sometimes even turn on the computer and open a fresh document. What probably irritates me the most is when I work on a tough section of a project until I’m exhausted, then I go to bed and fall asleep only to have the solution come to me ten minutes later. Why couldn’t it have come to me before I crawled into bed?

 Why do you write what you write adult contempoary paranormal and fantasty? 

I love the idea of magick being real. I like taking the mundane day to day life and turning it into a grand adventure where anything is possible. I also love a hard-earned HEA.

How about a little about Reach For You?

Her passion is her greatest weakness. His legacy is his prison. To reunite, both must fight the demons within.

A world of deception and danger separates Annie Freemont from her mother—and from Chase, the enigmatic half-ifrit with whom Annie’s fallen in love. But she vows to find her way back to them, before Chase succumbs to the madness that threatens his freedom. The only person who can help is the magical seductress, Lotli, a beautiful, manipulative woman . . . a woman who has disappeared.

Annie must stay strong, even as the future she imagined is slipping away. With the help of family and friends, she discovers that Lotli is being held against her will, by those who want to exploit her powers. But though weakened, Lotli remains a powerful alley and adversary. A bargain is struck. And now Annie’s only chance to rescue Chase could also tear them apart . . .

Loyalties will be tested, walls will be breached, and enemies will be fought, yet Annie’s greatest battle lies within her own heart—to trust her love for Chase to overcome its greatest enemy, and to save those she holds most dear from the terrifying realm of the djinn . . .

Amazon     BN       Kobo      Indie Bound

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May 28- July 2

Book 1- A Hold On Me – On Sale for $2.99

Book 2 – Beyond Your Touch- On Sale for $3.99









Chapter 1

We journey. Ceaseless and hungry.

Carved into stone tablet. Tenerife, Spain

The campsite was ominously silent. Then a breeze lifted and my ear caught the faint clank and rattle of the bones and knives hanging in the pine trees behind us.

“You don’t think they’re both dead, do you?” Selena whispered.

I scanned the dilapidated camper ahead of us, a do-it-yourself RV created out of an old bread truck. Despite the midafternoon warmth, the doors were shut tight. The tent behind it, barely visible from our angle, bowed under the weight of rain that had pooled in its canopy. There was no campfire smoke. No trampled grass. In comparison to when we’d come here last week, the place looked deserted.

Goose bumps pebbled my skin. I gave the camper another once-over. “Zea was really old and sickly. He could have died—or if the kidnappers came here first looking for Lotli, they could have found him. They might have—”

Selena cut me off with a glower. “You mean, supposed kidnappers.”

My jaw clenched. Yeah, that was exactly what I meant. I understood why my cousin didn’t like that everything we’d discovered pointed to her boyfriend, Newt, being involved in Lotli’s disappearance, and perhaps Zea’s as well. But I thought we’d gotten past that, like a bunch of times already.

I swiveled toward where we’d parked our Land Rover. The Professor stood rooted next to it, a mixture of disgust and apprehension crinkling his face. From his scholarly glasses and sandy brown hair all the way down to his polished loafers, he looked anything but ready for our reconnaissance trip out here on the back roads of Down East Maine. An afternoon of research at Oxford University would have been more appropriate. “You want to check inside the tent while we look in the camper?”

His gaze flicked to the soggy tarps. He cleared his throat, then—as posh as ever—said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not totally against the idea. But the thought of discovering a rotting corpse is a teensy bit abhorrent.”

“Would you rather discover one in a closed-up camper?” I snapped. It was lucky we’d driven into the campsite from the main road instead of walking like we’d done the last time.  I’d assumed the Professor had an adventuresome spirit to go with his young Indiana Jones good looks. Especially since he was an archaeologist, though this summer he was tutoring Selena’s eleven-year-old brother as a favor. Still, and despite how eager he’d seemed to come with us, the Professor had freaked the second we started past the creepy stuff Zea and Lotli hung in the trees to scare people off: the knives and bones, pieces of copper pipe, broken mirrors, and doll parts. Frankly, I was surprised he’d even gotten out of the Land Rover at all.

I pasted on a smile. “Sorry. I don’t much care for the idea myself. Let’s just hope he’s napping or something.”

The Professor wiped his hands down the sides of his chinos. “I truly hope you’re right.”

As he headed for the tent, I tramped toward the camper with Selena close behind. If only Chase were here now. The creepy stuff hadn’t bothered him at all, and the fear of Zea being dead would have only driven him forward faster.

My chest tightened, my longing for Chase aching inside me, raw and unrelenting. If it weren’t for me, he would be here now. Instead, both he and my mother were trapped in the djinn realm, prisoners of his father, Malphic. If it weren’t for me, Lotli wouldn’t be missing either.

“Well?” Selena jerked her head at the camper door. “Are you going to just stand there?”

I raised my hand and knocked. One second passed. Two seconds. I rapped harder. Nothing. I tried the doorknob. It turned beneath my grip. I opened the door a crack, hesitated, and took a deep breath before pushing it open all the way.

A wave of hot, musty air rushed past me as if the camper had been closed up for days.

“Hello?” I said, sticking my head inside. I gave the air a cautious sniff. No dangerous odors, like a leaky gas stove, permeated the air.  No rotting-trash smell—or decomp.

Selena nudged my shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”

I swallowed hard and stepped forward.

The place was cramped, a gypsy wagon on steroids. Tassels and prisms curtained the windows, letting only faint streaks of light inside. Miles of fuchsia and turquoise fabric draped the ceiling and walls. Animal skulls, feathers, and nubby candles clustered inside miniature altars. The fridge, table, and chairs, every surface that wasn’t fabric covered, was painted purple or black. Stars decorated the ceiling. An antique bed piled with crimson quilts and an avalanche of pillows took up the camper’s entire backend. It was cozy enough, I supposed. But I couldn’t begin to imagine what life had been like for Lotli, apprenticed to Zea as a child because of her magic abilities, essentially indentured. Not that I thought a devout shaman like Zea would have been cruel to her. It was just so different from anything I’d experienced.

“Zea, are you here?” I called out. “We need to talk to you about Lotli.”

I minced my way deeper into the cramped space, working my way toward the back of the camper. Cold sweat carved a trail down my spine. I crept past a tiny kitchen and dining nook, then the bathroom—one toothbrush in the holder, a washcloth draped over the edge of a yellowed sink.

I returned to the front of the camper and pulled aside the curtain that divided the living area from the bread truck’s cab. Seats for the driver and a passenger, seashells glued to the dash, insulated coffee cups in the holders—

Something brushed the back of my neck.

I yelped and jumped sideways, whipping around to see what it was and smacking my elbow against the wall. Pain zinged up my arm. I glared at Selena, standing barely an inch behind me.

“Shit,” I said, rubbing the sting from my arm. “You scared the hell out of me.”

She gave me a sheepish pout. “Sorry. I thought you knew I was there.”

“I didn’t think you were that close.” It wouldn’t have hurt half as bad, except I was already sore and bruised from being thrown out of the djinn realm earlier in the day.

Her pout transformed into a smug smile and she flipped her blond hair over one shoulder.  “Looks to me like Zea and Lotli might have pulled a vanishing act after all. Huh?”

I stopped rubbing. “Or the Professor’s about to find something disgusting in the tent.”

“Want to bet?”

I closed my eyes, struggling to regain my composure. We couldn’t afford to waste time discussing the same thing over and over again, any more than I could have afforded the luxury of staying home to nurse my aches and pains. Chase and Mother were in danger. And I couldn’t go back to the realm and rescue them until we found Lotli. Without her and her flute-magic, it would be too risky, perhaps even impossible to enter or escape from the realm.

I shoved past Selena and strode to the tiny bathroom. “While we’re here, we should find something personal of Lotli’s that you can use to scry and see where they’re holding her.”

Glancing around, I spotted a scruffy hairbrush. You couldn’t get much more personal than that. I grabbed it and brandished it toward Selena.

She stood just inside the bathroom doorway, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. “Cut it out, Annie, I’ve had enough of you talking like Newt kidnapped Lotli, the innuendos and little jabs. Maybe his family’s hiding something, but Newt doesn’t have anything to do with it. So quit acting like he’s evil, okay?”

I mirrored her stance. “He told you his dad was a stockbroker, that they owned their summer home. Those were lies. His brother is a registered creep. No matter what you want to think: Newt’s not innocent.”

She turned her back on me, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I don’t know why I bothered coming. You’re so, so . . . You always have to be right—” Her voice died and she slowly faced me. Angry red blotches mottled her face. But tears rimmed her eyes.

My anger drained. She didn’t look pissed. She was trembling like she was about to fall apart. Earlier today, when we’d first heard about the lies Newt and his family had been telling, I’d seen something in Selena’s eyes, something beneath her disbelief.

“What is it? Tell me,” I asked gently.

She raked her hands over her face. “Nothing. You just need to trust me. I know Newt couldn’t be involved. And he wouldn’t have let his brother do it either.”

I leveled my gaze with hers and toughened my voice. “What makes you so certain? Tell me the truth, Selena.”

Her chin quivered. “I just know.”

Tucking the hairbrush handle first into my hip pocket, I stepped closer. I pushed her hair back from her face. “You’re my cousin. Please. Tell me.”

“Nothing. He just wouldn’t do it. He loves me.”

“I get that. But—”

She shoved my hand away. “No, you don’t get it. I know he loves me. Like forever.”  Her eyes pleaded for me to understand what she couldn’t bring herself to say.

A possibility seeped into my head.  My hands went to my mouth, covering a horrified gasp. She couldn’t mean. She couldn’t have.  “What did you do?”

“I kind of—I put a . . .” Her voice faded and she looked down at the floor.

“A spell?” A month ago, the idea of witchcraft being involved would never have occurred to me. Now it seemed more than likely.

“You can’t tell anyone. Mom, Dad, Grandfather—they’d kill me.” She curled her arms over her head, her shoulders shaking as she crumpled down against the wall.

I crouched and put my arms around her. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. It can’t be that bad.”

“It is,” she sobbed.

About the Author:

Pat Esden would love to say she spent her childhood in intellectual pursuits. The truth is she was fonder of exploring abandoned houses and old cemeteries. When not out on her own adventures, she can be found in her northern Vermont home writing stories about brave, smart women and the men who capture their hearts.

An antique-dealing florist by trade, she’s also a member of Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, and the League of Vermont Writers. Her short stories have appeared in a number of publications, including Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, the Mythopoeic Society’s Mythic Circle, and George Sciter’s Cat Tales Anthology.

The first two novels in her Dark Heart series, A HOLD ON ME and BEYOND YOUR TOUCH are available from Kensington Books.  REACH FOR YOU (book #3 Dark Heart series) will be released June 27th. Her short story, Black as a Dark Moon, Scarlet as Sumac, will come out this September in the Fragments of Darkness anthology.


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It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Reach for You!

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Camping- Colorado’s Mueller State Park

After promoting the spectacularly-fun and successful release of my fifth book, A Warlock’s Secrets, second in the Demon’s Witch Series,  which culminated on June 14, 2017, it was time for Mueller State Park, and a camping trip to reset my circadian timing, it was off just a skoosh!  Spending quality time with family, friends and pets (yep took our parrot, Taco, Chow dog, Mystic, and Sammie the box turtle) can recharge your mental and physical batteries. Besides you sleep better in the great outdoors.  It’s a proven scientific fact, you know.

Our absolutely excellent camp site was toward the back of Mueller State Park  up on a hill with lots of room to roam! The sunset was fantastic, setting the azure sky ablaze in orange, red and yellow fading to purple and blue fringing the few scattered high clouds. We didn’t get any sunset pictures because hubby and I were at the star-gazer program in Mueller park’s visitor center’s parking lot!  Dang it!  Knowledgeable individuals set up several telescopes for us to see the stars. Saturn and its moons were breath-taking. The speaker told  us to follow the arc to  Arcturus, the fourth brightest star in the night sky, and drive a spike to Spica.  It’s a star mnemonic to remember the stars locations.  LOL   And of course we located the popular Ursa Major and Ursa Minor better known as Big and Little Dipper and several other constellations.  Astronomy is one of several interests my hubby and I share.

The next morning, after letting Sammie out for a bit, we hiked the newly opened to dogs trail starting at Grouse Mountain Trailhead. We were pleased to discover nearly a month into the trial of dogs on the trail at Mueller, the path was pristine, no trash, and no uh…mmm… deposits left by canines. The sign-in sheets at the trailhead were overflowing with signatures of people from all over the country enjoying the beautiful scenery with their dogs.

After a fun day of hiking, we cooked hot dogs and brats, plus baked beans over the campfire. No the beans didn’t fall through the grates; we put them in a pan. LOL Then we sat back and listened to the chirping crickets, scurry of possible foxes or deer in the underbrush, and the far off yips of coyotes, as we roasted marshmallows for s’mores. In the star strewn sky, the Milky Way along with several of the constellations was clearly visible. We even spotted a few satellites zipping across the sky and one falling star.  Star bright, star light, first star we see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. Made a wish. No wonder camping is good for you!

Sunday was Father’s Day, Mystic and Taco attempted to assist hubby in preparing breakfast of fried eggs, cinnamon rolls, hash browns and orange juice. Yup, he likes to cook while we’re camping, so I let him.  Then it was time to pack up and return to the cement jungle. Sigh.

Upon arriving home, we discovered a baby wren stuck in our backyard porch light. Hubby got out the ladder, dismantled the light fixture to release the little bird to its noisily awaiting flock and parents. So glad we got home when we did, poor little guy was scared to death.

Well, there you have it… our adventures of Father’s Day weekend.  I hope you all had a great Father’s Day.  Check back next week for more adventures! LOL Have a great week!

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New Giveaway & A Warlock’s Secrets Release!

From Tena Stetler, best selling author of A DEMON’S WITCH, comes the second in Demon’s Witch Series, A WARLOCK’S SECRETS  blending the magical and the real…Release June 14th .Author’s Secrets is again doing something a bit different celebrating the release of A WARLOCK’S SECRETS with  Books at the Beach Giveaway & Book Fair – June 19th running through the 30thWin a Kindle HD 8 Loaded with 80 Bestselling eBooks! You could also win one of two runner-up $25 Amazon gift cards. And while you’re at it, shop our AWESOME SUMMER BOOK FAIR with over 50 fantastic romance titles for you to choose from.


Enter the rafflecopter below to win.

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, choose from a piece of chocolate fudge cake and ice cream, or strawberry shortcake to celebrate my new release A Warlock’s Secrets. 

First let me tell you what inspired A Warlock’s Secrets.

A Warlock’s Secrets came to fruition after several readers and a couple of reviewers asked or assumed Tristian’s story was next in the Demon’s Witch Series. In truth, I’d never considered writing his story. He was the Demon Overlords enforcer/assassin, for heaven’s sake. After delving into who he really is and what he wants, come to find out, he has a strong moral compass and when love comes his way he is fiercely protective and everything Hannah is looking for in a man. A Warlock’s Secrets, second book in the Demon’s Witch Series is available June 14th!

A little about A Warlock’s Secrets: 
Years ago, a sacred ceremony at the Dragon’s Moon Coven turned deadly. Son of the high priestess, Tristian Shandie’s life changed forever. With a price on his head and revenge in his heart, he has no choice but to follow in his father’s footsteps to a profession shrouded in secrets. Now his skills as an enforcer for the Demon Overlord are second to none. But dangerous secrets he harbors are a liability he can no longer afford.

A chance meeting with a woman he finds irresistible flips Tristian’s world upside down. Hannah is a cyber security specialist with secrets of her own. Bad boys never appealed to her until Tristian, who changes everything. In his darkest hours, she is dragged into his magical world

If they survive, is she strong enough to heal his heart and tame the warlock? Or will their secrets destroy them?

A NEW Sneak Peek between the pages of A Warlock’s Secrets: Oh, yeah I love the cover!

He offered his hand to Hannah as she stood, wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the diner. “How about a ride up the coast?”

“Sure as soon as you explain how you held those teens down without touching them.” She smiled up at him knowingly.  “And don’t give me that crap about telling me or killing me.”

A slight grin curved the corners of his mouth. “How about on an as needed basis and you don’t need to know?”

A soft laugh bubbled up from her throat. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’re a warlock with well-honed powers.” She tilted her head up towards his. “Would I be right?”

HIs grin faded replaced with a stormy expression. “Where would you get that absurd idea?  They merely tripped and had trouble getting up. I suggested they stay put until the police showed up.  Simple as that.”

“Right.  Well on that note, I’ll see myself home.” She turned to her car and opened the door.

For a moment, he considered letting her go. Women are more trouble than they’re worth anyway. That’s when the meddling voice of Birch wafted through Tristian’s mind.  She’s moved on, so should you.  Damn faeries anyway. I’m sure he’s using some kind of magic to do this to me.

“Okay, you win. But only if you tell me why you are disguising your magic signature.” He leaned against the car a smirk on his face.

A Warlock’s Secrets is available at:

Amazon, Kobo, Barnes& Noble, itunes. The Wild Rose Press

A little about the author:

Tena Stetler is a paranormal romance and cozy mystery author with an over-active imagination.  She wrote her first vampire romance as a tween, to the chagrin of her mother and the delight of her friends. With the Rocky Mountains outside her window, Tena sits at her computer surrounded by a wide array of paranormal creatures telling her their tales. Colorado is her home; shared with her husband of many moons, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-year-old box turtle.  Any evening, you can find her curled up in front of a crackling fire with a good book, a mug of hot chocolate and a big bowl of popcorn. Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them. Well,okay there are a few companion animals to round out the tales.

Learn more about Tena:


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Enter the Rafflcopter for Books at the Beach Giveaway June 19th – 30th giveaway here.


Win a Kindle HD 8 Loaded with 80 Bestselling eBooks! You could also win one of two runner-up $25 Amazon gift cards.

And while you’re at it, shop our AWESOME SUMMER BOOK FAIR with over 50 fantastic romance titles for you to choose from.


Thank you for stopping by! Don’t forget to enter the giveaway! It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to drop in anytime. You never know what awesomely talented author will be visiting Author’s Secrets next!  

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Karen C. Whalen Author of Not According to Flan

Give a warm welcome to fellow Wild Rose Author Karen C. Whalen with her new release Not According to Flan

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Karen and latest release Not According to Flan.

Happy Release day Karen and thanks for being here! Let’s get right to it.

What defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same?

I’m an inward thinking person, observing what is going on around me, from the weather to the scenery to the conversations of strangers, to inner thoughts and feelings. I often write down snippets of what I see, hear, and feel. I thought everyone had this inner life, this awareness, but I’ve come to learn that mostly authors share this experience. I can’t separate me as an author from me as a person.

 What do you want your readers to take away from your books?

I want my readers to take away what I take away from the books I love. My best-loved books contain characters who become like my friends. I know I can open a favorite book and visit a character I know well, who inspires me and gives me an example to follow (confident when disaster strikes, brave in times of struggle, happy even when sad events take place). My protagonist, Jane Marsh, is twice-widowed, middle aged, and a little bit zany. She enjoys life in spite of being lonely, and she’s not afraid to put herself in danger when investigating murders. I would like my readers to feel as if Jane is their friend and someone they would like to spend time with.

Where do your story ideas come from? If they come to you in the middle of the night, do you get up and write them all down?

My ideas often come from my job as a paralegal. They also come from personal experience. As a paralegal, I have investigated many lawsuits with bizarre sets of facts, from robberies, suicides, wrongful deaths, and all manner of accidents. Truth can be stranger than fiction and certainly provides me with unlimited story ideas. Also, many of the events in Jane’s life, such as preparing gourmet club dinners, riding her bicycle in downtown traffic while wearing a suit and heels, and smoking cigars, are things I have done myself. And, yes, ideas come in the middle of the night. Sometimes I’ll intentionally concentrate on a difficult scene I’m working on as I fall asleep, knowing that my subconscious mind will work it out. I’ve often awakened with the solution.

Gee it sounds like we have a lot in common, I spent 17 years as a paralegal in a criminal law firms, yep the stories I could tell.  Truth can definitely be stranger than fiction. So tell us a little about Not According to Flan.

Jane Marsh wants to shake off the empty nest syndrome, plus the notoriety of the death of her first and second husbands, by starting over in a new place. She sells her family home to move to a far northern suburb of Denver. At the same time, Jane’s dinner club is undergoing a transformation, and a new man—a gourmet chef—enters her life.

But, things turn sour when, on the day Jane moves into her new home, she discovers a dead body. She cannot feel at home in this town where she’s surrounded by cowboys, horse pastures, and suspects. Not to mention where a murder was committed practically on her doorstep. How can she focus on romance and dinner clubs when one of her new friends—or maybe even her old ones—might be a murderer?

How about a peek between the pages of your new release?

She slipped outside into the warmth of the early September, blue-sky, Colorado day to check on her puppies sniffing around their new territory in the backyard. Leaning over the deck railing facing the lot to the east, she gazed into the bottom of an open excavation where a basement was being poured. Someone had parked a tractor down in the dirt, and near it a white cowboy hat lay on the ground. A man’s hand stretched toward the hat’s brim. Had someone fallen into the pit?

Jane bounded down the deck stairs and out the wooden gate, only stopping for a moment to secure the latch. She rounded the corner of her new house and rushed to the adjoining lot, pausing near the edge of the concrete that formed the basement’s foundation.

A man was shoved against the corner of the foundation wall. His torso and legs were partly covered with dirt. The cowboy hat concealed the top of his head. His left hand almost touched the brim, as if he were about to take off his hat and say, “Howdy do.” A large manila envelope lay a foot or so away from his other outstretched hand.

On the envelope tall, block letters spelled out: “Jane Marsh—welcome to your new home.”

Wow, I love murder mysteries, putting NOt According to Flan on my to read list! Where can we find Not According to Flan?

Book two, Not According to FlanThe WIld Rose Press, and Amazon

And the first book in your series, Everything Bundt the Truth.  Amazon, The Wild Rose, Barnes and Noble

 Karen C. Whalen is the author of the Dinner Club Murder Mystery series. She worked for many years as a paralegal at a law firm in Denver, Colorado. Karen has been a columnist and regular contributor to The National Paralegal Reporter magazine. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and participates in a local writing group, the Louisville Writers Workshop. Find out more about Karen at:



It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Not According to Flan and your Dinner Club Murder Mystery Series!


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