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Podcasting for the fun of it!

August 21, 2019 By Barbara Leave a Comment

http://anchor.fm/barbara-ellen-brink

I very recently joined the podcast revolution. Yes, I know, I’m late to the game. Apparently, the revolution has been going on for quite some time. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun with it anyway. Since I’m just learning at this stage, I thought I’d start by reading through one of my novels. So, that’s what I did.

Entangled is now available for your listening enjoyment, in ten episodes, two chapters at a time, on my podcast, Lazy Green Mysteries. I hope you will check it out and get listening. Whether you are relaxing in the backyard hammock, doing laundry, or driving to the grocery store, you can be enjoying a good book. Pure reading enjoyment without actually having to read. Also, you can rest easy that no trees were killed in the audio process. This recording is as green as green can be. So, enjoy!

Go to anchor.fm/barbara-ellen-brink and listen or download the Anchor app. You can also find Lazy, Green Mysteries at Spotify, Google Podcasts, RadioPublic, and Breaker. Other places coming soon!

Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Are you a regular podcast listener? Do you enjoy listening to a story while you are busy doing other things?

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of The Fredrickson Winery Series, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, Second Chances series, and The Double Barrel Mysteries series. She lives in Minnesota and yearns for Hawaii.
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and the winner is… Much Ado About Murder!

June 8, 2017 By Barbara 18 Comments

And the winner is…

For those of you who watch award shows and love to see all the celebrities in their fancy dresses and tuxedos strutting down the red carpet, posing for paparazzi and answering inane questions from entertainment reporters, The Grace Awards may seem a bit lame and lacking in glitter. But for a writer who does her best work alone in a tiny home office and rarely gets asked for an autograph other than when her husband hands her the tax returns to sign… it’s AWESOME!

I feel like a star. I may not have my own star on the walk of fame, but my dad did let me put my handprint in the new concrete he poured for our porch steps when I was eight. Does that count?

So let’s imagine I’m wearing strappy, silver, three-inch heels and a navy colored gown with a lacy top. Oh wait, you don’t have to imagine. I just wore that for my daughter’s wedding, so here you go.

(You WILL have to imagine the red carpet, flashing cameras, screaming fans, and me sitting in the audience with my dear friends and fellow writers, Mary Higgins Clark and Stephen King.)

The big moment is here…

The audience collectively holds its breath in anticipation as Iris Johansen rips open the envelope and reads the embossed words on the card. “And the winner of The Grace Award in the mystery/suspense category is… MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER!!” {massive applause as the orchestra plays Get Up And Boogie}

I climb the steps to the podium – elegant, cool, and poised – and take the golden Grace Award from Iris’ hands. She smiles and nods toward the microphone.

(Every winner gets to make a speech and since this is my blog and I’m the winner…)

“First of all, I would like to thank my readers for nominating MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER for this award and for believing in the characters of Port Scuttlebutt as much as I do. I also want to thank Blake and Shelby Gunner, Alice and Tucker, Evelyn, Jack, Pete, and every one of the players who have taken up residence in my head and make Double Barrel Mysteries such a joy to write.” {orchestra strikes up the get off the stage music but I keep going, talking fast} “I would also like to thank my beta readers, editors, cover designer, my husband for bringing me coffee and chocolate while I write, my dog for giving me walk breaks, my hairdresser, Internet provider, and the UPS man.” {skinny model tries to tug me away from the microphone but she’s weaker than me because she doesn’t eat meat. I stand my ground and keep talking.} “Last, but certainly not least, I want to thank Microsoft Word program, for without your spellcheck, formatting, layout options, and imaginative fonts, I would be lost.” {three skinny models surround me and collectively pull me from the stage as I yell out my last words} Thank you, thank you all. I will finish the 3rd book! I will! I promise!  

~~

Praise from the Grace Award judges:

MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER is a well-written, entertaining cozy mystery. The characters are believable and feel like people you might know in your own town. Blake and Shelby are charming main characters, just the right mix of strengths and weaknesses to keep the pace moving and the plot plausible. Alice and Tucker provide a light, romantic thread while Jack and Oliver add a touch of humor. The setting is presented well and the mystery progresses at a steady pace that keeps the pages turning.

See the winners in all categories at the Grace Awards

Haven’t read The Double Barrel Mysteries yet? Check out my bookstore page or click on the titles below.

ROADKILL #1

MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER #2

~~

Thanks for coming to my award show! Hope you had as much fun as I did. Don’t forget to leave a comment and say hi!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery Novels, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, The Second Chances series, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and The Double Barrel Mysteries, Roadkill and Much Ado About Murder. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and pups.

 

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Your middle-of-the-week mystery fix!

August 3, 2016 By Barbara Leave a Comment

DockedSailboats2

Looking for a fun, new series with plenty of mystery, murder, and romance to go
Roadkillsmallaround? Check out my Double Barrel Mysteries series. If you want to start at the beginning of the series, pick up a copy of book one, ROADKILL.

In book two, Much Ado About Murder, Blake and Shelby Gunner are setting up residence in Port Scuttlebutt and opening their own private investigations office. Hope you enjoy the excerpt below!

ImbedMuchAdo2Shelby could hear the whine of the electric saw when she stepped out on the porch with her cup of coffee. Vanilla bean scented steam rose in the cold autumn air as she held her cup between the palms of her hands and sipped. She shivered in spite of wearing an angora sweater beneath a quilted jacket. It was hard to believe that days before Blake was working shirtless down at the boathouse. Today he’d need to wear long johns and flannel. It was already beginning to feel like Christmas. All they needed was snow.

The radio came on in the kitchen where Alice was busy mixing bread dough. It sounded like the weather report. Shelby gulped the rest of her lukewarm coffee and slipped back inside to catch the news. Maybe there would be something about the murder. The police had been tight-lipped about the case when Blake showed up asking questions. Even the brotherhood-of-blue mantra did little to open the way for him.

Blake was still upstairs sleeping, but he’d be down soon. He had an invitation to visit his grandmother at the big house for lunch. Apparently it was a single invitation, since he hadn’t invited her along, but that was okay. She had plans as well.

“Sounds like we might get snow by tonight,” Alice said, turning the radio down when the commercials came on. She slipped a clean towel over the lump of dough in the mixing bowl, and slid it closer to the stove to rise. “Good thing Mr. Dugan started early today. Maybe he’ll have the office windows and door in for you by this evening.”

“That would be wonderful.” Shelby refilled her cup from the carafe and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Especially if he turns out to be guilty.”

“Guilty? Did you find something incriminating out there at his place?” Alice peered over the refrigerator door as she pulled breakfast items from the shelves. “I mean… that would be terrible. For Tucker’s dad especially.”

Shelby shook her head. “Nothing like that. But we didn’t find anything to prove his innocence either, so…” she shrugged.

“Hey. Loose lips sink ships,” Blake said from the doorway. He pulled an imaginary zipper across his mouth. “Mrs. Private Eye, may I have a word with you?”

“Don’t worry,” Alice said, “I haven’t had time to get all the juicy details out of her yet.”

Shelby followed Blake into the sitting room and faced him, hands on her hips. “What was that all about? Paranoid much? If anyone in this town can be trusted, Alice can.”

“I know that. But sometimes things slip out inadvertently. I want to keep this ring business under wraps for the time being. I haven’t even questioned Pete Dugan about whether he knew his ex-wife was seeing someone else or not. First things first. Okay?”

“Fine. I won’t mention the ring to anyone.”

He stepped closer and tipped her chin up with one finger. “You know how beautiful you look when you’re peeved with me?”

“I’m not peeved. I just don’t like lying to my friends.” She’d done enough of that growing up. Lying to protect her alcoholic father from losing his job, lying to keep the social workers away, lying to bill collectors, the landlord, her friends.

“You don’t have to lie, babe. They’ll understand if you tell them you can’t talk about it. The same way you understood when I couldn’t share everything about the cases I worked on as a detective. Information is key. We have to keep it to ourselves until the exact right moment. Get it? Surprise attack. We want to get a natural, unguarded look at our suspect’s true feelings. Most people wear a façade, especially when they feel cornered.

“Now our client is a suspect?”

“Until I’ve proved otherwise.”

She leaned into him and he drew her close. She closed her eyes and breathed in his just-showered scent. “You smell like fresh strawberries.”

“I used your fruity shampoo. Mine was empty.”

“It smells good on you,” she said, nuzzling his neck.

“Hold on now.” He moved back out of reach, a silly grin on his face. “Are you trying to get an invitation to lunch, or…?”

“I can’t believe you’d think that. Only married four years and you’re already pouring sand on the flames.”

His brows came together. “Are you messing with me?”

“Of course. Who else would I mess with?” She reached out and tugged him back by the collar of his shirt. “Now kiss me before I leave. I’m going to the café for a chat with Luanne.”

“Heaven help us all,” he said, and then gave her a proper goodbye kiss.

~~~

Ps. Book Three: Midsummer Madness is available now!

 

 

Thanks for stopping! Hope you enjoyed this excerpt. Please leave a comment below.

Barbara

Barbara Ellen Brink is the author of The Fredrickson Winery Novels, Split Sense (winner of the Grace Award), Running Home, Alias Raven Black, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and Roadkill.
Barbara Ellen Brink is the author of The Fredrickson Winery Novels, Split Sense (winner of the Grace Award), Running Home, Alias Raven Black, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and The Double Barrel Mysteries.
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Mystery Lovers Celebrate!

May 3, 2016 By Barbara Leave a Comment

DBlogo4x4In celebration of the May 22nd release of MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER (book #2 in The Double Barrel Mysteries) I have two great deals for you this week!

ImbedMuchAdo2

Now Thru May 6th, get two great books for sooooooo little!

CRUSHED is #Free everywhere right now!   (and)  ROADKILL is just $1.99 at Amazon!

Crushedsmall                                               roadkillcoverImbed

Kobo  Kindle  Nook  iTunes    Smashwords                  Kindle

Don’t forget to PreOrder MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER now! Use the links below:

Nook  iTunes  Kobo  Smashwords  kindle

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery Novels, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, The Second Chances series, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and The Double Barrel Mysteries, Roadkill and Much Ado About Murder. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and pups.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery Novels, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, The Second Chances series, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and The Double Barrel Mysteries, Roadkill and Much Ado About Murder. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and pups.

 

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Between the Lies on The Fall Book Bash

December 2, 2015 By Barbara 3 Comments

~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ 

Author Joy DeKok is sharing an excerpt from her novel, Between the Lies, with us today. I’ve read this one and I can tell you that it is an absorbing story. It would make a terrific addition to your Christmas gift selections for that book-loving friend or family member you have a hard time buying for… or a little holiday gift for yourself.

Joy2Joy has been writing since she was a little girl. Her dream of being an author was front and center in her mind and after years of hard work, she has several books in publication. She has been traditionally published, but is now an indie author.

Joy works part time for her husband and puts in as many hours writing as she can. She prefers writing in the solitude of her office, but can also be found in area coffee shops now and then where the voices and energy of the real world infuse the words on the page.

She’s been married to Jon for 38 years. They live on 35 acres of woods and field between Pine Island and Rochester. Joy loves riding their John Deere Gator with her dogs, Sophie & Tucker, taking pictures and enjoying God. Although unable to have children of their own, they love their nieces, nephews, and the children of their friends. And most of them are having kids of their own and don’t mind sharing them with Joy and Jon at all.

Her latest release is Between the Lies. It’s the first book in a mystery/suspense series. Joy took some risks with the main character. As a former “kept” woman, Olivia Morgan is not easy to like, but she’s the character Joy was given to write about. Writing is like that.

Connect with Joy online:  Facebook   Twitter  Google+  Tumblr  LinkedIn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BTLNorthernLightSeriesRGB1600x2400pxBETWEEN THE LIES (excerpt)

Security called to let me know the private elevator was out-of-order, and I was told to use the public elevator. That had never happened in the ten years I’d lived there, but then neither had the night ahead of me.

A black stretch limo waited at the curb to take me to the ball. And I did it all without a fairy god-mother. Who needed a fat little old lady with a wand and a warning? Not me. No way.

Not until I found the dead guy anyway.

Lloyd, the building security guy, called to tell me my ride was waiting. When the elevator doors whispered open, I stepped in with a practiced little swish. I say practiced, because I had taken three trial runs and added what I thought might be an elegant little entrance move.

The guy in the elevator didn’t notice. He stood in the corner with his chin on his chest and his eyes half-closed and with a Twins cap sitting off-kilter on his head. What a stiff.

When the doors shut, our descent began with a slight shudder, and the man lurched forward and fell face-down near my feet.

“For crying out loud, man, it’s too early to be so drunk,” I muttered.

When the doors opened, I called out to the head of security who was seated at the front desk, “Can you help me with this guy?”

Lloyd, a former marine, rolled the man over, then jumped back. “Olivia, this man is dead.”

I gasped and stared at the guy and noticed his eyes were empty—devoid of life. His face, neck, and scalp were severely scarred. His cap now lay on the floor beside him. I assumed he used it to cover his face which looked tight and melted.

Instead of screaming or fleeing I went to my secret place; the one deep inside me I’d discovered the first time my father came to my room. I hadn’t been there in a long time, but I let the calm flow over me as I shut the door to my feelings. Besides, I had someplace to be, and losing it was not an option.

“Lloyd, I have to get going. You can handle this, right?”

“No. You are a witness and may have evidence on your dress or the bottom of your shoes.”

“Can you please get me out of here?” The body was blocking my exit, had ruined my elegant entrance into the foyer of the building, and was going to make me late for the evening.

Lloyd raised his hand as I tried to explain why I had to get out. He was already on his cell phone, telling someone Mr. Lyons would not appreciate it if the St. Paul police department didn’t send someone over “pronto.” When he hung up he looked at me and said, “Stay put.” He left no room for argument so I stayed with the guy. The very dead guy.

Within minutes, a swarm of police and other officials had the area cordoned off with yellow tape, and hustled around like bees in a hive. At first glance, it seemed chaotic, but their movements were strategically choreographed.

And there was a coroner. I’d always pictured people who work with the dead all looking like old Dr. Frankenstein: gaunt and grisly. This guy was movie-star handsome. “Hello. I need your corner.” His voice sounded so warm it could melt an iceberg. “Would you mind stepping onto these slightly sticky sheets of paper? They will catch any particles from your shoes we might need.” He offered me his hand and helped me step over the dead guy onto large sheets he placed on the elevator floor.

I have no idea what came over me, but I heard myself say, “Thank you, kind sir,” and I curtsied. Maybe it was the dress.

Whatever it was, it must have been contagious because he bowed slightly and said, “My pleasure, lovely lady.”

“Olivia, are you okay?” Lloyd’s bushy eyebrows nearly met in the middle as he narrowed his eyes at me. His voice sliced through the air, ruining a fun moment, and I felt myself stand a little straighter. I squelched the urge to salute and swallowed a giggle.

Instead, I took a deep breath and said, “I suppose I’m a little shocked, but this night is important. I have to go. Please help me . . . it’s for Jillian.”

Lloyd walked over to an officer in regular clothes and pointed at me. They talked for awhile and she made a couple of calls. When she hung up, she walked over to me and said, “I’m detective Harper, Homicide Division. I understand you have an important event to attend tonight. I’ve talked to my boss, and Mr. Alan Lyons, who vouched for you. Both said you can leave if you allow me to inspect the bag you are carrying. I also want to meet with you tomorrow at time decided on by me. Do you agree with these stipulations?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

After she inspected my clutch and tucked a card into the pocket, the detective said, “Your driver is waiting.”

I walked toward the handsome doctor of the dead and heard him say, “The body is still in the elevator. I’d like to get it out of there so your team can look for evidence.” I noticed him look in my direction. As I turned, my dress swished just so. Funny the things that matter at a crime scene and when a handsome man might be watching.

The driver who held my door open looked familiar, but I had no idea from where. He wore reflective sunglasses that wrapped around his eyes almost to his temples.

Something about him made my nerves jangle. Just like the homeless guy did at the cemetery. I wrote it off as anxiety from looking into the eyes of a dead man.

I opened my clutch and took a moment to apply powder to my face and freshen my lipstick. The little beaded purse held those two items, along with a credit card, my key cards, and my cell phone. I looked at the card the detective had tucked inside. On the back was her cell phone number under the words, Talk to you soon. ~~~

Purchase Between the Lies:  Amazon

~~~

Thanks for stopping! Did you enjoy this latest excerpt? Leave a comment or question for Joy or myself below.

Barbara

Barbara Ellen Brink is the author of The Fredrickson Winery Novels, Split Sense (winner of the Grace Award), Running Home, Alias Raven Black, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and Roadkill.
Barbara Ellen Brink is the author of The Fredrickson Winery Novels, Split Sense (winner of the Grace Award), Running Home, Alias Raven Black, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and Roadkill.
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Mystery, murder, and puppy chow!

November 10, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

The FALL BOOK BASH continues with author Cassidy Salem sharing an excerpt from her mystery, Think Murder. I love that title! There is no mistaking what kind of book you are getting when you read a title like that. And if you love mysteries as much as I do, you will grab this deal today. Think Murder just went on sale for .99¢! That is such a great deal you could buy one for yourself and another for a friend! Christmas is right around the corner and books are the perfect gift. Especially kindle books! You don’t even have to wrap them. 🙂

ThinkMurderfinal_smallAdina Donati came to Washington D.C. to find excitement, not a dead body. 
When a friend is murdered, Adina is drawn into the middle of the police investigation. Tensions rise as the suspect list expands to include Adina, her friends, and colleagues at the prestigious think tank where she works. But every cloud has a silver lining. Between the nice detective, the hot new volunteer at the dog rescue center, and the newly available preppy ex-boyfriend, Adina’s dating dry spell appears near its end. That is, if she doesn’t become the next victim.

~~~

THINK MURDER (excerpt):

Hilary had pretty much wound down by the time we reached McSweeney’s. A popular spot among men and women in their 20s and 30s, the pub was standing room only and the scent of Guinness hung in the air. Most of the guys were scoping the scene seeking out potential hookups – but that was nothing new. Petite and pretty, with strawberry blond hair and sparkly blue eyes, Hilary was a magnet for male attention.

We made our way to the bar and each ordered a glass of white wine. I even managed to grab a small dish of chicken wings for us to share. We did our best to eat, drink, and talk, while standing, constantly jostled by the crowd. Just as one guy was on the verge of striking up a conversation with us, we snagged a small table in the back corner.

More often than not I enjoyed watching the flirtations or even flirted a bit myself, but today my attention was on our conversation. Hilary’s mood had changed since our arrival. Seated at our relatively secluded table, she fidgeted in her chair. After we had both ordered a second glass of wine, Hilary took a few rapid sips, then confided, “Something’s going on with Duncan, he’s been acting strange.” She hesitated, then stammered, “Do you think he’s cheating on me?”

So how was I supposed to answer that question? I hated to lie, still neither Duncan nor I had ever mentioned to her that we had been an item a couple years back – a brief relationship that ended when his interest lagged. To add insult to injury, he had found a replacement for me before breaking it off. Duncan is hot; he knows it and he uses it to his advantage. Faithful is not his middle name.

A bit of a coward, I replied, “I don’t know. Has his behavior changed? Any special reason you think he might be seeing someone else?”

“Just a feeling I have, like there’s something he’s not telling me. He’s been almost secretive since his last visit home.” Hilary’s eyes welled up with tears. “I think maybe I should wash my face, freshen up before we leave.”

While I waited for her to return from the restroom, I finished that second glass of wine and did my best to drive any thoughts of Duncan and his cheating past out of my mind. My favorite strategy for accomplishing that was to check out the guys standing at the bar. Most of them were in their early 20s, with the standard Washington yuppie uniform – business-like suits or at least respectable jackets and ties. The only guy that stood out was wearing a Redskins cap and no jacket. I guess he didn’t know the local dress code. No one there struck my fancy, so I didn’t have to pretend I was going to work up the courage to approach anyone.

Bored and wondering what was taking her so long, I decided to check up on Hilary. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t hiding in there, crying her eyes out. It meant we’d probably lose the table, but I was about ready to head home, and a trip to the restroom before leaving wasn’t a bad idea.

The restrooms at McSweeney’s are way in the back, down a long narrow hallway a few feet past the entrance to the kitchen. The location was a bit out of the way, but someone had the foresight to put four stalls in the women’s room. There was rarely a need to stand in line, at least not this time of day. At night, when there is live music and the place is packed, well that’s another story.

When I pushed the door open, the sink area was empty and the stall doors were all ajar. Strange. So where was Hilary? As I pondered that question, something on the floor of the last stall caught my eye. I walked over to take a closer look and saw Hilary slumped over on the floor.

“Hilary, are you OK? What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer. I moved closer, going partway into the stall.  She was leaning leftward, her long hair falling into a large puddle of blood. I screamed, quite loudly to judge from the size of the crowd that came running in response. I leaned over and tried to check her right wrist for a pulse. There was none. Shaking uncontrollably, I lost my balance and landed on my butt outside the stall.

Buy Think Murder (kindle)

~~~

CsalemCassidy Salem has always been an avid reader. She is especially fond of mysteries (both cozy and traditional). Over the years, her favorite mystery authors have included Agatha Christie, Kathy Reichs, Mary Higgins Clark, and John Grisham. Cassidy also enjoys reading historical fiction focused on American and world history, as well as the classics. 

Cassidy has never met a dog she didn’t like – a fact that influenced her decision to have the protagonist in “Think Murder” volunteer at a dog rescue center. When she’s not reading, Cassidy enjoys singing in an a cappella ensemble. Most of all, Cassidy enjoys spending time with family and friends, and travels with her husband and son whenever possible. Her travels have taken her to destinations throughout the United States and Europe.

Connect with Cassidy:

  • Twitter
  • Website
  • Amazon Author Page
  • Goodreads   

~~~

Thanks for stopping! Have a question for Cassidy or just want to say hi? Leave a comment!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery Novels, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, The Second Chances series, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and ROADKILL, the 1st book in the new Double Barrel Mysteries. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and pups.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery Novels, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, The Second Chances series, The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, and ROADKILL, the 1st book in the new Double Barrel Mysteries. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and pups.
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Split Sense

Split Sense

When a senator and pharmaceutical giant partner to experiment with a new drug on pregnant women, they tap into a world they never knew existed – the supernatural touching the natural – and it will cost the innocent more than they know. Grace Awards Winner!

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