Book on Sale at Amazon Today!

January 25, 2020

Prime members, get Sunny Side-Up today for only $3.17!

FRIDAY FLICKS: Scrambled FREE

Today and tomorrow I will be offering my eBook, Scrambled, for free. If you haven't read the Susan Cramer Mystery series yet, now is the time!

Scrambled has received mixed reviews, and I'd like to hear yours. 

Expect twists and turns, red herrings, mounting questions, and an amateur detective that's new at the job. Scrambled is a clean read, and many teens have enjoyed the book.

Would you rather listen to the audio? Listen here for a taste!

Or get the eBook FREE here.

HAPPY READING!

FINAL PROOF

Working on my final proof today for Hard Boiled.

Not my favorite task, but a very needed one.

After all of the editing and beta readers, it's taking one last look at my book with cover and formatting and checking those small errors that always seem to make it in the final proof.

Front cover and back cover once over

Weird paragraphing

Commas in strange places or no commas where there should be commas

Forgotten periods

Centering of chapter headings (even forgotten chapter headings. I've got one of those this time. No once caught it!

Quotation marks in the wrong places or no quotation marks where there should be quotations marks

Awkward sentences that no one else spotted

And so it goes...

Happy Writing! (and editing!)

Kathryn

Gearing Up for a New Book Release!

Like a good, clean mystery?

Then you might want to gear up for my next installment of the Susan Cramer Mystery series! 

Book 3
New Release Date:
July 2016!

What would you do if you returned home from vacation only to find out that someone you knew had been murdered? Would you plan your life as far away from any and all connections? Would you get a new alarm system for your house? Move to another state? Try to find the killer?

Find out what Susan Does, whom she meets, and what finally opens her mind to the truth—the whole hard boiled truth.

It may be the hardest reality she's ever faced.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

SCRAMBLED

By

Kathryn Jones

Eating Out

Six months later a thought occurred to her that the fat man had been the catalyst; her last straw, her wake up call. 

             “Are you open?” the man had asked.  His voice had been deep and yawning like 

the Grand Canyon. 

“Of course.”  She looked up.  The man was fat—even more endowed than her own husband who’d gained a mere seventy pounds since their wedding day 20 years ago.  Fat oozed like soft butter from his great waistline.  His black and white checkered shirt, though buttoned, gaped to his belly, revealing a matted mass of hair.  She tried not to stare at it.  The word “pig,” came to mind.

            “Did you find everything all right?” she asked.

            “Just ring me up,” he growled, scratching his unshaven face.  “I have an appointment.”

            If someone had said, ‘Make a wish, Susan,” she would have wished for freedom in that moment—freedom from the customer, and all those to follow; freedom from her horrible job and marriage, freedom from unavailable friends and broken down cars.  She would work a bit somewhere else, and then travel to some exotic location.  Perhaps Paris or Hawaii…

            “Miss!”

            Susan felt the crisp dollar bill in her hand.  “Sorry, sir,” she said, handing the disgruntled customer his change.  She watched his back-end leave the store.  Blubber, bump.  Blubber, bump.  Blubber, bump…

            It was the fat man who had finally given her the courage to take care of herself for the first time.  Perhaps it was not a conscious choice, but it was definitely a choice.  She left work that day never to return, got on a bus, leaving her rotten car in the parking lot—her fat husband wondering where she’d gone.  She hadn’t looked back. 

            Occasionally, like today, when the hotel lights burned deeply into her skull, and her eyes felt heavy from the tasks of serving, she would remember.  The terrible times when she tried to get pregnant.  His anger about her job, or the way she folded his underwear. She would think about the way he spoke to her; hardly, and then, harshly, as if the words he had meant to say to her long ago needed to come out now in one heated rush.

Also, the short moments of tenderness—her broken-down heap of a car that had still managed to get her to work, the doughnuts and candy bars that always made it into the kitchen cupboards and then quite naturally were fed by him into her open mouth—because he always shared what he bought for himself.  All those moments that made her life one with him. And now she was left with an aloneness she couldn’t begin to understand.

            “Jenny?”  The pounding on Susan’s front door made her blink.  She would never get used to her new name even if she lived to be a hundred years old.  She stood, walked to the solid piece of wood called her door, and peered wearily out the keyhole even though she didn’t need to.

            “What is it this time, John?”  Tonight, John seemed to be wearing some sort of pullover sweater and blue jeans.  His short, red hair was combed down the middle, and splayed to either side like the opening entrails of a fish.  She might have laughed if she hadn’t cared for him.  He was the dorkiest man she’d ever met, albeit the nicest.

            “Cup of sugar?”  She could see the white cup held eagerly in his left hand.  He pushed it forward to the keyhole.

            “I’m tired tonight.”

            She removed her eye from the keyhole, wondering if he blushed.  He always turned red whenever she spoke of anything having to do with sleep, or darkness, or her new down comforter.  She wasn’t sure why unless certain words created in him a desire for something he would never get from her. Was it her imagination, or could she feel him going red beyond the door?  And he was probably grinning too, now that he’d managed to breathe a little more evenly.

            “Come on Jenny.”

“Oh, all right.” 

The dead bolt cracked heavily, the double set of chains flicked to the sides of the heavy door, and she turned the knob of her upstairs room.  The Hotel Camaro, once a manor in Walnut Hill, had plenty of solid wood even where it didn’t seem needed—above her bed, on one of the walls in the living room, even above her head on the carved cornices seen throughout the building.  Everything reeked of oldness and renovation—though change would probably not happen in her lifetime—if ever.   The owner, Carter Childs, held his money like a tight fisted kid with his only penny; except Carter had many pennies though he told everyone otherwise.  The tramps who lived at the hotel were a continuous reflection of the future of the hotel and its’ lower than life standards.

John smiled.  His slightly yellow teeth reminded Susan of the eggs she had boiling on the stove. 

“You don’t mind getting the sugar yourself?”

“No problem.  But are you sure you want eggs?”  She could hear his large feet clunking to the pantry as she stirred the boiling eggs with a spoon.

Yes, the egg bomb incident.  How could she forget?  What had she been doing?  Oh, yes.  Carter wanted to see her, an overflowing toilet in room 10, he’d said—John’s room.  And she’d left the boiling eggs on the stove.  When the eggs exploded an hour later she was finishing with the water overflow mishap and had just re-entered the hallway.  Carter was beyond angry when he heard.  Her hotel room smelled like rotten eggs for days and she’d spent weeks walking outside and breathing in the musty city of Southern Philadelphia before permanently returning to her room.

“You do look tired.”

John had the sugar in his white bowl, but like always, he was not returning to the door.  “What can I do?”

“I just need some sleep.”

John blushed.  “Okay,” he said, looking for a place to sit on the old brown couch—her only couch in the very sparse room.

“You’d better go.”

“Maybe I can help.”

“You promised.”

John rolled his large blue eyes.  “I know,” he said, “but you need someone.” 

It had taken Susan six long months to trust John with a few facts about her life; others she had made up to cover her identity.  Her real name was one of them.  That she’d never been married was another—a sure fire mistake she would later see more clearly.  Perhaps John would have been less interested in her if he knew she had simply run away from her husband.  She wondered what he would think of her if he knew of her shallow thoughts of him that had created this mess in the first place.  She wondered if he’d understand that all of her thoughts weren’t shallow, that there was something else she never spoke of with anyone, the surest reason for her departure.  Was he searching for her?  Would she turn on the television one day only to discover her face on the small screen?  Or would he be grateful?  Was he pleased that she had left him?  Would he want to find her simply to file the divorce papers?  She wondered how long it had taken before he’d discovered she was missing.  She was glad they had no children, but only for this reason; no family that would be missing her.

Except her mother of course; her father was dead, and her sister in Virginia.  Kate would have a fit, perhaps even look for her for awhile, and then she’d get caught up once more in the corporate life and forget all about her.  Just like when they were kids and the doll collection was replaced by fake dollar bills and glittering coins purchased as a set from the grocery store.  Kate would later become a teller, and then she would work her way up the company from Payroll Manager to Director of Human Resources.  In addition to bossing all the bossing people around, she would get her degree in management, leaving Susan behind to take on the menial jobs.

Susan would never attend college, would marry the first man who even took a look at her—her husband, Bob, and they would try to have children—without success of course.  In the end, they would sit together, watch T.V. and he would eat and feed her what he’d bought.

Nothing stuck on her bones.  But with him, it was almost like, by getting fat, he was getting pregnant instead of her.  At first she’d joked about it.  And then the joking made him watch television alone in the basement, sneak food at odd hours, and make excuses for his sorry life.

Susan turned to look at John.  He had been silent for an unreasonable amount of time.  “Sorry,” she started and then realized he was gone.... -Book one of the Susan Cramer Mystery Series

  

"Susan Cramer was desperately in need of a vacation, but not at the expense of another dead man."

            A leisurely vacation turns deadly when an old man falls dead at Susan's feet on the cruise ship Aloha.

            Was she some sort of death magnet?

           

            Maybe so. Maybe not.

            One thing was for sure. Through the lies, secrets, and surprises to be discovered on board and off, Susan will learn at least one important thing, and this thing called "love" will be something she wished had never followed her out to the high seas.

-Book Two of the Susan Cramer Series

Love Hawaii? Get Sunny Side-Up

Sunny Side-Up may be on pre-order status, but if you've been waiting for part two of the Susan Cramer series, you just my want to pre-order your copy now!

The official release date is October 1, 2014, but don't be afraid to get your hands on something sunny side-up a bit early.

Get Sunny Side-Up at Amazon

Susan Cramer was desperately in need of a vacation, but not at the expense of another dead man. 

A leisurely vacation turns deadly when an old man falls dead at Susan's feet on the cruise ship Aloha. 

Was she some sort of death magnet? 

Maybe so. Maybe not. 

One thing was for sure. Through the lies, secrets, and surprises to be discovered on board and off, Susan will learn at least one important thing, and this thing called "love" will be something she wished had never followed her out to the high seas.

PUZZLED?

Another plug for my book, Scrambled: A Susan Cramer Mystery now FREE at Amazon.com through Saturday the 6th!

LIKE PUZZLES? 

Click here

See if you can beat my time!

Sunny Side-Up NEW COVER and PROLOGUE!

Okay, things are heating up quite nicely for my newest book, Sunny Side-Up, (Book Two) in the Susan Cramer Mystery Series to be released in October 2014!

New cover!

Here's the blurb that will be on the back of the book:

"Susan Cramer was desperately in need of a vacation, but not at the expense of another dead man."

            A leisurely vacation turns deadly when an old man falls dead at Susan's feet on the cruise ship Aloha.

            Was she some sort of death magnet?

           

            Maybe so. Maybe not.

            One thing was for sure. Through the lies, secrets, and surprises to be discovered on board and off, Susan will learn at least one important thing, and this thing called "love" will be something she wished had never followed her out to the high seas.

 PROLOGUE:

The old man wore a black suit, a starched white shirt and a black bow tie, the standard fare for men of his age. They were both on a cruise ship, and though she didn't really know him, they’d been speaking. At least, she'd been speaking. The man was drunk and could hardly stand; he'd kept asking her to repeat herself.

She'd been speaking about her divorce and subsequent trip when his blue-gray eyes had clouded over and he'd collapsed in a heap in front of her.

She'd reached for him, of course. But his body had slipped through her fingers like a fish in shallow water.  He'd tried to breathe, taking in two shallow gasps. But he was lying there now, his blistered face to the sky, his eyes staring, his left leg bent behind him in some sort of twisted leap. He was dead, Susan was sure of that.

            “Help!” she screamed, watching the dance floor for someone, anyone...

            And then suddenly, she was there, an old woman in a gold dress, her bronzed skin twinkling against the burnished fabric. She leaned over the man.

            “What happened?” the old woman's voice quivered. It reminded Susan of a child’s.

            As the salty air caressed Susan's cheeks, she looked out at the great blue ocean for only a moment and thought of Henry.

            “I…I don’t know, we were just talking.”

            The woman in gold, her hair perfectly coiffed, reached for the man’s wrist. And in that moment Susan saw Henry James as John Middleton, lying dead by the old coal burning stove at the Hotel Camaro.

            The woman was sobbing, leaning over the man, trying to shake him awake.

            “What did you do?” she wailed. Her eyes were a blotchy black and mascara was running down her naked neck.

            Susan looked away.

The champagne glass near the deck’s railing had spilled. The place where it lodged was a red and sticky, wet.

            “I can’t wake him!”

            The waves must have crashed against the large cruise ship, but Susan hardly noticed; she barely saw those who had suddenly gathered around her including the face of Charles, one of the officers on board ship. He pronounced the man dead.

            “But, how can he be…dead?” the old woman gasped, holding her chest, breathing in the sea air in shuddering gasps.

Susan stood next to the railing. She looked out at the sea and wasn't sure when the old man was taken away with his sobbing wife. How had she gotten to the railing anyway? Why was the man dead? And just as important, who had killed him?

           ***

Comments or questions? Would you like to review the book for me in exchange for a free copy? Contact me at: kathy@ariverofstones.com.

Haven't read book one yet? Find it here.