All in the Family

For a limited time, my book, All in the Family is available from Amazon for 99 cents.

Taking over the police chief's job in her hometown should have been easy for Callie Johnson. At least that's what she thought. After

working in a big city, small town crime would be a breeze. What a suprise when she arrives to finc her grandmother, the judge, accused of murder. As if that isn't enough, she's attacked while walking to her car. Between criminal investigations, her nutty family's antics and her Aunt Beatrice Lulu's matchmaking, Callie definitely has her work cut out for her. Will her grandmother be exonerated? Can Callie ward off her aunt's unsuitable suitors? 

Review:
Callie's a small town police chief who doesn't need department investigators or a dating site. She's got Aunt Beatrice Lulul! And her other aunts, of course. A delightful, slightly wacky family you'll love.

Excerpt:

Callie looked around her first crime scene in Symtheville. Typical vandalism – nothing special about it. According to Jim this park had been vandalized several times over the last couple months. But this time was different. This time they had a witness. Sergeant Billings nodded to the little girl standing next to Officer Peters.

“That’s my witness?” Couldn’t be more than six or seven – what could a kid that age tell them? Still better than nothing.

“Hi.” Callie knelt next to the child – eye to eye so to speak. “What’s your name?”

“Berry.”

“Berry, that’s pretty. What’s your full name?”

“Huckleberry Kane.”

“Huckleberry! How’d you get a name like that?” Callie darn near bit her tongue. One of these days she’d learn to think before she spoke. Although the kid didn’t seem to take offense.

“My Grampaw named me.” Berry pulled on a strand of curly, red hair, lowered her freckled face, and kicked the dirt with her bare feet.

Those had to be the prettiest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen. “Well, Berry, that sure is a pretty name. I understand you saw who spray painted the park and broke the swings. Did you know them?”

Berry hooked her thumb through the strap on her bib overalls, kicked the dirt and shook her head.

“Can you describe them to me?”

Berry shrugged. Her tiny little shoulders brushed against her curls.

“Okay then...” Callie stood. Kneeling wasn’t the most comfortable position, and Berry wasn’t much of a talker. Wonder what she’d do with a sketch artist. Names certainly weren’t forth coming. “Sergeant, where’s the child’s parents?”

“Uh, um, her parents are dead, Chief, her grandfather has custody. He hasn’t arrived yet. We sent someone for him about twenty minutes ago.”

“Twenty minutes, where do they live?”

“Just a few houses down, according to the kid.”

“Go see what’s taking so long. I want to take Berry to the station, let her look at some pictures, maybe sit her down with a sketch artist.”

 “Chief Johnson!”  Peters raced across the park and stopped just short of knocking into Berry. “Chief can I see you alone a minute?”

Callie followed him a short distance away from Berry. “Okay, Peters, what’s going on?”

“Her grandfather, he’s...uh...” The officer looked at Berry and lowered his voice. “They found him unconscious on the kitchen floor. They called for an ambulance. They just took him to the hospital.”

Great, just what she needed another complication. She blew the hair out of her eyes. “Does she have any other relatives?”

“I don’t know, I was going to check with the neighbors. No one around here talks much. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get information.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Callie went back to Berry and knelt down next to her again. What a rotten thing to happen, poor kid.  “Berry, do you have any aunts or uncles?”

“Uncle William.”

“Okay, good. Where is Uncle William?”

“At work.”

Callie let out a chuckle. Of course he’s at work, what was she thinking? “Do you know where he works?”

“At the flour mill.”

“Officer, contact the flour mill, see if you can find William Kane. Let him know what’s going on.  I’m taking Berry to the hospital. Tell him we’ll meet him there.”

Callie stood and took Berry’s hand.  Better stop off and get the kid some shoes. “Okay, Berry, where do you live?”

“Right over there.” 

“Good, let’s get your shoes, and then we’re going for a ride.  Your grandpa said it was okay.”

“Why is Grampaw in the hospital?”

 Smart kid.  Now what?  Be honest, sure she’s only a kid, but she deserved the truth. So much for trying to keep it secret. “Your grandfather got sick and the ambulance took him to the hospital.  I’m going to take you there now, and we’ll meet your uncle. Okay?”

Berry pulled her hand out of Callie’s and raced toward the house.

Callie hurried to catch up and followed Berry into a small bungalow and looked around. Neat and tidy, but lived in. She couldn’t contain her curiosity and looked around the small living room. Furniture looked old but in good condition. Small TV in the corner. Nothing fancy here. A fairly new rag doll sat on an old rocker. Probably Berry’s. She smiled. Didn’t look like Berry played with it much. If she ventured a guess, she’d bet Berry was a a tom-boy. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Heck, she’d been a tom-boy herself. Still was if push came to shove. The kitchen had been cleaned, but the delicious aroma of breakfast still filled the room. Bacon and eggs. Her stomach growled. Half a bagel wasn’t much of a breakfast.

Berry came back with her shoes and put them on. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“So Berry, how old are you?” Callie asked on the way to the hospital.

“Six.”

“Do you go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What grade are you in?” She’d never found it so difficult talking to a child before.

“First. Is Grampaw going to be okay?”

Callie glanced at the little girl, sitting on the seat next to her. Poor kid must be worried sick about her grandfather. “I’m sure he’s going to be fine.” What else could she say? She had no idea what was wrong with the man. Hopefully, it was nothing serious. She pulled into the parking lot at Park General Hospital and helped Berry out of the car.

“Grampaw isn’t going to die is he? Like Momma and Daddy did?”

Fortunately, Callie was spared having to answer. The doctor reassured her and Berry that Grampaw was going to be just fine. “You’ll be allowed to see him in just a few minutes.”

Berry and Callie went into the waiting room and sat down when a tall, muscular man caused a disturbance at the information desk. She jerked upright to see what was going on.

“My niece!” the man shouted.

“Uncle William!” Berry jumped up, raced to the man, and flung herself into his arms, and clung to him.

Callie hurried to join them. “Mr. Kane, I’m Chief Johnson.  Berry witnessed some vandalism at the park. I was hoping you’d allow her to come down to the station and look at some pictures and maybe talk with a sketch artist.”

William Kane threw Callie a look so murderous; she thought she’d been stabbed. His brown eyes glared into hers.

“No! She can’t come down to the station.  What do you mean taking a six year old child in for questioning?”

 “Mr. Kane, she’s our only witness. And I haven’t taken her anyplace for questioning. I brought her here to see her grandfather, who, thank God, is going to be fine, by the way.”  Damn it! Callie turned away and bit her tongue before she said anything else to anger this man.  She needed his permission – unless Grampaw gave his, and under the circumstances, Callie figured William Kane would fight it.

 She turned back to face him. Good looking in a boy next door sort of way. His blond crew cut suited him.  “Look, Mr. Kane, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here.  I know you’re worried about Berry and your father, and believe me – I only have her best interest at heart.  But she is a witness, and I think she can identify the boys who did this.”

William took a deep breath and redness deepened his cheeks. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’re right I was worried about Berry and my dad, but that was no reason to attack you that way.” He wiped his hand on his pants and extended it toward her.

She shook his hand. His smile extended all the way into his eyes and wrinkled his nose in a funny sort of way.  Cute! “Good then you won’t object and will bring Berry down to the station to look at some pictures? This is the third time this summer that park’s been vandalized. I really want to get these kids.”

“I’ll bring her down, but only if you’ll agree to have dinner with us. My way of apologizing”

Berry hugged William’s neck. “We get to eat out, yippee!” She loosened her hold, slid down out of his arms, and skipped over to Callie. “Say you’ll come, Miss Callie, please say you’ll come.”

Callie laughed.  “Well, with an invitation like that how can I refuse?” 

Work in Progress

So, I'm busy at work revising two previously published stories. One is done and now I have to begin another. I also have a couple other stories in the works, but hit a road block, better known as writer's block. 

When I begin a story, I know the beginning and the end, most of the characters - or at least the hero and heroine. I think that's the problem with the two stories I started. I don't know the end of either of them. 

To make matters worse, the characters aren't speaking to me. Until they do, I won't be able to write. They need to tell me how the story ends. 

One of the stories is a take off of It's All in the Family, written from Aunt Beatrice Lulu's point of view. I love that old lady. The aunts in that story are a lot like my family used to be. We've calmed down a lot over the year, partly because we lost a sister and brother. 

I'm the second youngest of six children. I had three older brothers, an older sister and a younger sister. The oldest of my three brothers and my older sister passed from this world on to bigger and better things. We miss them dearly, especially my sister. She was my best friend and truth be told, the instigator of a lot of our foolishness. Not that the rest of us were innocent. Far from it. What one of us didn't think of the other would. And my younger sister is just as bad, as are my brothers. 
We've certainly played our share of jokes and tricks on each other through the years. Once, my sisters and I made fake fruit baskets and delivered them to all our brothers. We left one on my oldest brothers' doorstep, delivered another to a neighbor because we knew my brother wouldn't be home and the third, we took to my brothers' place of employment. Unfortunately, we didn't think to put something heavy in the baskets and the minute they picked them up, they knew they were fake. 
But, I'm off topic here. I was speaking about my works in progress, wasn't I? Hopefully, I'll finish them soon and get them published. 

More snow

What do I expect? It is winter after all and only the beginning of February. There's at least six more weeks of winter. I guess we got spoiled the last few years. This year has been brutal with the cold temperatures and above average snowfall.
It's not the snow I mind so much it's the bitter cold. Dangerously cold temperatures that even closed schools. Normal temperatures for January and February are in the 30s. We've had an awful lot of single digit temps with chill factors well below zero.
But it can only get better, right? As they say, Spring is just around the corner. I still wish I knew who 'they' were.

On the brighter side, I just released a book, Trouble Comes in Twos, a previously published and revised edition of Double the Trouble. Available from Amazon 

My Special Edition is also available from Amazon for only 99 cents for a limited time. Three books in one. Time to Love Again, Designed for Love, and Shadows in the Attic.

Something New

I'm going to try something different. I've been lax at posting on my blog, so I'm going to try to post a little every day. I hope my posts don't bore you. I've heard readers want to know personal stuff about authors. 
You already know I'm a wife, mother, grandmother and great grandmother. Most of you probably know my favorite authors, I enjoy quilting and embroidery, and that my family is important to me. 
So what else is there to know? 

 Before my family, God is most important in my life.Yesterday, my daughters and I started a Bible Study. We started with reading the Book of Ruth. It was a great evening. Besides praying and sharing the word, we had great fellowship and discussed many things. I look forward to our session next month. 
So, now you know a little more about me. 

We May As Well Dance

 Note from Roseanne: I'm sharing this blog from Ginger Simpson's blog because it was so beautifully written and really affected me. I hope you get as much out of it as I did.

 Shared from Ginger Simpson

retrorestyling.blogspot.com 

These are not my words, although I did edit a few  They came to me in an email at an uncanny time.  A long-time friend just lost her 39-year-old son, and a few days later, my uncle passed away.  The words serve as a reminder that we never know when our time will come.  Whoever wrote this gives new meaning to "stop and smell the roses."
****
Read Very Slowly...it's pretty profound:

Too may people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming, or are too rigid to depart from their normal routine.

I got to thinking one day about all those people on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back on their diet.  From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible.  How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed?  Does the word 'refrigeration' mean nothing to you?

How often have your kids dropped in and you all sat in silence while you watched 'Jeopardy' on television?

I cannot count the times I called my sister and said, "How about going to lunch in a half hour?"  She would gas up and stammer.  "I can't.  I have clothes on the line, My hair is dirty.  I wish I had known yesterday, because I had a late breakfast.  It looks like rain."  And my personal favorite, "It's Monday."  She died a few years ago.  We never did have lunch together.

Because Americans cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches.  We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect.

We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get the baby toilet-trained.  We'll entertain when we replace the living-room carpet.  We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college.

Life has a way of accelerating as we get older.  The days get shorter, and the list of promises get longer.  One morning we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives if a litany of 'I'm going to,' 'I plan on' and 'Someday, when things are settled down a bit.'

When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she's open to adventure and available for trips.  She keeps an open mind on new ideas.  Her enthusiasm for life is contagious.  You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.

My lips have not touched ice cream in ten years.  I love ice cream.  It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my stomach with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process.  The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker.  If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.

No...gone on and have a nice day.  Do something you WANT to, not some on your SHOULD DO list.  If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say?  And why are you waiting?

Make sure you continue reading to the end and you'll understand why I posted this.

Have you ever watched kids playing on a merry go round or listened to the rain lapping on the ground?  Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight or gazed at the sun into the fading night?  Do you run through each day on the fly?  When you ask, "How are you?"  Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done, do you lie in bed with the next hundred chores running through your head?  Ever told your child, "well do it tomorrow," and in your haste, not see his/her sorrow?  Ever lost touch?  Let a good friendship die?  Just call to say "Hi?"

When you worry and hurry through your day, it's like an unopened gift...thrown away.  Life is not a race.  Take it slower before the music stops.

Show your friends how much you care.  SHARE this with everyone important to you.

Looking forward to February

Here it is the end of January, not that I'm sorry to see it go. As most of you know it didn't start out well for me. In fact, I'm still coughing. Add to that the severely cold temperatures and, well, let just say January wasn't my favorite month. Besides that I hate taking down the Christmas decorations. Everything looks so blah. Although I'm used to it now.
So I look forward to February. The month of love. The shortest month of the year. Although I've always thought it was the longest. Seriously, January you're winding down from the holidays, March you're looking forward to spring, which is right around the corner. But February....other than Valentine's Day what do we have to look forward to?
For me, it's the submission and publication of another book, Trouble Comes in Twos, previously published as Double the Trouble, I've revised it and will be sending it to the publisher soon.

Two men, two murders and the twin sister of one of the victims complicates life for Kate Wesley.

Life isn’t supposed to be so complicated, is it? After a five year absence, Kate Wesley returns to Twinsburg Ohio to open a florist shop. Life is good until Mark Westfield enters the picture. To make matters worse her ex fiancé is back in town and looking to pick up where they left off and Kate’s attracted to both men. When she finds a dead body in the cemetery and the twin sister of the victim shows up and a second body is discovered, life couldn’t get much more complicated. Will she be the next victim?

Excerpt:

 “Where’s Emma?” The tall, blond, muscular man yelled, before Kate had a chance to ask if she could help him.

Kate didn’t like his tone or the deep scowl, causing his eyebrows to almost meet above his icy blue eyes. “Excuse me?” Who did he think he was stomping in here like this? She took a step toward him.

“Emma’s supposed to be at the church for rehearsal. And don’t tell me she’s not here, her car’s in the parking lot. Why is she hiding out? Does she have cold feet?”

Kate pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, took a deep breath and counted to ten. She couldn’t lash out. This was a potential customer, although at that moment, she didn’t want to sell him anything, but no use riling him up further.

“I’m sorry, Mr...” Kate paused to let him fill in the blank. Surely this wasn’t Emma’s fiancé. He didn’t act anything like the way Emma described Doug Johnson.

The man didn’t answer, just glared at her.

Something about him struck her. Attractive, self-assured. Something else. Something tugged at her heart. A feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. She ignored it.

Okay, that went nowhere. “Emma left almost...” Kate looked at her watch, “well over an hour ago, but she left her car keys.” Kate took the keys from the desk drawer and held them out to him but quickly drew them back.

She didn’t know who he was, and his attitude left a lot to be desired. She wasn’t about to give the keys to a complete stranger. For all she knew, he could be the guy who was following Emma. How did she know if Emma’s car was really in the parking lot? “Excuse me, Mr...” This time Kate refused to continue until he told her who he was.

He glared at her for a minute. “What do you mean she left? Her car’s still in the lot. And why do you have her keys?” He reached out to grab them, but Kate put her hand behind her back.

He stared at her.

No way was she giving this man more information. Gripping the keys tighter, she folded her arms across her chest and stared back at him, matching him glare for glare.

Who did he think he was? How dare he come into her shop and accuse her of hiding Emma? That was just plain ridiculous.

The stranger took a deep breath. Obviously he realized anger and yelling weren’t getting him anywhere. Not that Kate cared much what he thought. She wasn’t saying another word until he told her who he was. She could stare just as long as he could. She’d learned stubbornness a long time ago.

Spreading his hands out in front of him, in sort of an ‘I surrender’ mode, his eyes softened to a dusty blue. He let out his breath.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s start over, shall we? I’m Mark Westfield, Emma’s brother.” He extended his hand, but Kate ignored it. “She’s supposed to be at church for rehearsal and hasn’t shown up. I’ve retraced her steps, and no one has seen her. I saw her car in your lot.” He let his hand fall to his side.

“This may sound like a strange request, Mr. Westfield, but may I see some identification?”

 “Identification?”

He looked at her as if she asked him to undress. “Yes, ID. I don’t know you. How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“Fair enough.” His lips moved just enough to hint at a smile.

He took out his wallet and handed her his driver’s license.

Kate stared from him to the license. Not bad looking, same fair coloring as Emma. Mark Westfield–thirty-seven. Only a few years older than her. Now what made her think that? She shrugged off the thought.

“Okay.” She handed it back to him. “Emma was here about an hour or so ago, like I said. She paid for the flowers and left, said she had a lot to do. A few minutes later, I found the keys. By the time I got out to the parking lot, she was gone. I figured she had another set, or someone picked her up.”

Mark ran his fingers through his short cropped blond hair and paced in front of her desk. “I don’t understand it. If she left her keys, and her car’s still here, what happened to her? Doug’s at the church beside himself worrying that she stood him up.”

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t. She was all excited this afternoon. Couldn’t wait. Maybe a friend picked her up?” A shiver ran up Kate’s spine. What did Emma say about being followed? Still Emma shrugged it off as her imagination. As excited as she was, no way she stood Doug up. Should she mention it?

“Most of her friends are in the wedding. Hell, the rest of them are at rehearsal. No, I can’t think of anyone. Besides, Emma wouldn’t leave her car and go with someone. She might have followed them and met them somewhere. No...that’s not like her at all.”

“Maybe you should call the police.”

“Call the police? Are you nuts? I can hear it now. Bride disappears two days before wedding, family panics. You know they’ll say she had cold feet.”

FREEDOM COMES WITH AGING

FREEDOM COMES WITH AGING - Repringed From Ginger Simpson's blog

This is an email I received from a dear friend, and I really needed to read and absorb the words.  I hope you will, too.

Start Shared words:

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world, too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play on the computer, until 4AM, or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50s, 60s & 70s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love, I will.

*I will walk the beach, in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves, with abandon, if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And, eventually, I remember the important things.

Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break, when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so  blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore.  I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).

MAY OUR  FRIENDSHIP NEVER COME APART, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S STRAIGHT FROM THE  HEART!

End Shared Message****

Please feel free to share this with others who need to appreciate the gift they've received.  Yesterday, I discovered a dear friend for many years lost her son during the night.  He simply went to sleep and didn't wake up, and he was a classmate of my youngest son who is 38.  Sadly, Jeff passed from complications caused by a medicine prescribed to combat the epilepsy he contracted during his military career.  The end result was liver disease, and now his mother has outlived her child…something I'm certain none of us want to do.  So…laugh today, live like there's no tomorrow, and dance if you want to.  Yesterday was the past, today is the "present"…a gift from God to you. 

Thanks to Ginger Simpson for allowing me to share this blog. 

*Footnote from me: No way am I going on a beach, Not in any kind of bathing suit.