Happy Wednesday readers.
We're halfway done with the week!!! To help you through the rest of it, I've got new rose,
MS Spencer on the blog today with her new release, The Penhallow Train Incident.
We're halfway done with the week!!! To help you through the rest of it, I've got new rose,
MS Spencer on the blog today with her new release, The Penhallow Train Incident.
Welcome to the blog MS. It's great to have you on today.
Tell us three words that
describe yourself starting with A, B, and C.
Appreciative (of my blessings). Bookish (I once filled two large rooms with
my books—thank God for Kindle). Curious.
What are your three
favorite things?
My granddaughter, my son, and my daughter.
Are you self- published or
with a publishing company (if so, which one?)?
I am currently published with two companies, I Heart Book Publishing and
The Wild Rose Press.
Is there a process you
stick to, or do you just write as it hits you?
I try to work in the mornings before I totally peak out, but generally I
work when the mood strikes—which turns out to be about 6 hours a day.
Was there any particular
inspiration for your characters or story?
I always draw on experiences I have had, plus a lot of research. Both my BA
and my MA thesis were on the Queen of Sheba, plus I’ve spent a lot of time in
the Middle East, so it was great fun to bring those exotic features to the
page.
Music is a big influence
on my writing. I have certain songs that inspire each chapter, or the whole
book. What helps to inspire you?
Mainly the setting—the location, history, culture of a place inspires a
story. I just visited Amelia Island, FL. Much like St. Augustine it has a rich
and crazy history—I have to use it for a story! My WIP, the Ghost Hotel, is set
where John Ringling of circus fame tried to build a Ritz-Carlton. Worked
started and stopped in 1926, but the hotel sat half-finished until the 1960s.
What better setting for a ghost story?
What’s the one thing you
would do if you could be your character for a day?
I’d spend it with Griffin.
What is the ultimate goal
you have for your career?
What is every writer’s goal—to have my books read and loved by millions.
When not writing, what can you be found doing?
I’m steps from the Gulf of Mexico, so I spend an hour or so basking and
watching for dolphins. I love to bird watch and kayak...and eat!
What do a
small Maine town and the Queen of Sheba have in common? Rachel Tinker and
Griffin Tate must find out before more people die.
Blurb
In the sleepy
coastal Maine town of Penhallow, a stranger dies on a train, drawing Historical Society
Director, Rachel Tinker, and curmudgeonly retired
professor, Griffin Tate, into a
spider’s web of archaeological obsession and greed. With the help of the
victim’s rival, they set out to locate the Queen of Sheba’s tomb.
Their plans are stymied when a war erupts between the sheriff and a state
police detective who want to arrest the same man for different crimes. It’s
up to Rachel to solve a mystery that includes two more murders, if she wants to unlock the soft heart
that beats under Griffin’s hard crust.
The
Penhallow Train Incident is set in the fictional mid-coast Maine town of
Penhallow. Midcoast Maine is not perhaps as well known as the southern beaches
or the Down East sites such as Bar Harbor, but it has its own special charm.
Towns like Bath, Camden, Rockland, and Belfast showcase the Maine of
lobstermen, shipbuilders, and farmers, while towns such as Thomaston on the
many small peninsulas that jut into Penobscot Bay offer gorgeous views and
pleasant cottages.
Just north of Penhallow is Searsport, where our hero and
heroine try out a new restaurant, inaptly named Salmonello’s. Searsport is also home to the Penobscot
Maritime Museum, where Rachel comes into unexpected contact with an enemy.
Excerpt: Salmonello’s
He sat back. “Okay, turn left here.
Now right on Union Street. There it is—Salmonello’s.” He chuckled. “Not what
you’d call a felicitous choice for a restaurant name.”
They walked into what a native Mainer
might envision a traditional Italian trattoria to be. That is, if a traditional
trattoria consisted of a room filled with Formica tables and farm implements, a
salad bar, and a wall of pinball machines. “Doesn’t look like lobster roll is
on the menu. Too bad,” Griffin said jocularly.
The place was empty except for a group
of women at the bar talking in loud voices. A girl of about sixteen with a long
braid and braces skipped over to them. “Anywhere.”
Rachel knew that Griffin was biting
his tongue to keep the retort at bay and loved him for it. “Thanks.”
They found a table as far away from
the din as possible, which wasn’t. Griffin ordered a carafe of their house
wine—“Please, God, at least make it Italian”—and they perused the menu. Without
looking up, Griffin asked, “So, how did George strike you?”
“He only hit the furniture.”
“No, I mean, do you think he’s telling
the truth?”
“About what?”
“Really, Rachel, I’d hate to think
you’re being deliberately obtuse. His story of Masri’s perfidy.”
“I don’t have any idea. You’re the
Middle East expert. Does it make sense?”
“There are lots of stories out there
of fanatical academics pursuing the elusive tomb or artifact. It’s not
impossible. I have a call in to a friend at Harvard.”
“Harvard? Oh, right, about George.”
“And one to a friend at Cairo
University about Masri.”
The waitress plunked a basket of bread
and a glass carafe on the table. Drawing two plastic wine glasses from her
pockets, she inserted the bowls into the bases and set them down. And left.
Griffin poured a smidgen of wine into his glass. With an affected simper, he
rotated it, then sipped, holding the wine on the tip of his tongue before
swallowing it. His eyes opened wide. “Whaddya know? It’s excellent. How
refreshing.”
Rachel sipped hers. “You’re right. Go
figure.”
He called the waitress over. “My dear
child, can you tell me the name of this delightful beverage?”
“Huh? Oh, the wine? I’ll go ask Dad.”
She shuffled back a minute later and read from the back of her hand.
“Tig…Tin…Tignanello, he says.” She read further. “Two thousand nine vintage.
Dad gets it from his cousin in Tuscany. He says it’s ready to drink now.” She
smiled perkily, the fluorescent light pinging off her braces.
“Tell Dad he’s right. Thanks…”
“Sally. You want some more time?”
“No, we’re ready. Rachel?”
“I’ll have the tagliatelle al ragu
Bolognese.”
“The spaghetti in meat sauce. Gotcha.
You?”
“How’s the veal?”
“My brother just brought it in from
Kenworthy Farm. You know, the place that raises all those weird breeds? Calf
got its leg caught in a fence and they had to put her down. Butchered her
yesterday. That’s why it’s on special.”
With a slightly green face, Griffin
handed her the menu. “I’ll have that.”
Rachel laughed. “For a tough guy you
can be pretty squeamish.”
He produced a rueful grin. “I suppose
if I’m going to eat it I should be able to hear how it made its way to my
plate.”
Sally returned and slid tiny simulated
wood bowls of wilted lettuce drenched in what looked like tomato soup under
their noses. “Your salads.”
Rachel took a gulp of wine to fortify
herself and said with determination, “I’m going in.”
Griffin watched her take a forkful,
chew slowly, and push the bowl away. “I hope the wine and not the salad is a
portent of things to come.”
They took a moment to gaze into each
other’s eyes before waking up to the fact that they were gazing into each
other’s eyes. In the lull, while both desperately sought something to say, a
raspy female voice rang out.
“I tell you, Jackie, that sheriff was
way outta line. He as much as told me I’m a liar!” They both turned to see a
woman of about fifty with a staggering cascade of pumpkin-colored hair. Her red
lipstick was a little smeared, and her lashes, thick with mascara, blinked
rapidly.
Rachel nudged Griffin. “I think that’s
Noreen Fowler, Stan Holiday’s girlfriend,” she whispered. “At least she looks
like the woman Edna Mae Quimby described.”
Confirming Rachel’s guess, a tiny
woman with a nose that could follow a cold scent twittered, “Well, Noreen, you
gotta admit your story sounded pretty flimsy. I mean, there were witnesses who
saw John on the train.”
“Witnesses? A buncha tourists who were
busy watching that moronic cowboy show. Probably didn’t give him a second
glance. John’s not exactly a standout in the looks department. I love him for
his personality.”
“Personality? Or money?” The klatch
broke out in snickers.
“Laugh all you want, Ellen. I’ll swear
he was with me that day.”
Someone in the back of the pack cried
out, “And what day was that, Noreen?”
She hesitated. “Last week. I forget
the day exactly.”
Jackie piped up. “It was last
Saturday.”
“Wait a minute.” A tall, gaunt woman
in jeans spoke slowly. “Wasn’t Stan Holiday up here with you last Saturday? I
thought I saw you two on the sidewalk by the cafe.”
Noreen gulped down her beer. “That was
earlier, Betty Jo. John came by later.”
Betty Jo seemed to mull this over,
then stubbed out her cigarette. “But I ran into Maude Jewett in the Penhallow
co-op last week, and she told me Stan was supposed to drive the train.” She
wagged her chin. “That he missed it because he was with you, Noreen.”
The voices rose and intertwined in a
cacophony of anger and insults, and the women spilled out the door.
~
The Wild Rose Press, 3/30/2016, Crimson Rose Line
Contemporary romantic suspense/Cozy Mystery; Sensual
(PG-PG13)
Ebook 79,665 words, Print 334 p.
Buy
Links: Penhallow Train Incident is available in both ebook and print-on-demand.
TWRP ebook:
Amazon:
ITunes:
ARe:
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Amazon Author Page:
OTHER
BOOKS BY M. S. SPENCER
Romantic suspense and mystery, they are available in ebook and
print from The Wild Rose Press, I Heart Book Publishing, and all fine on-line
book stores. For more information, visit
http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com/p/my-books.html
Coming soon from The Wild Rose Press:
The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower (an
Old Town Romance)
Artful Dodging: The Torpedo Factory Murders (an Old Town
Romance)
Thanks so much for having me, Rachel and Griffin visit today. I hope your readers enjoy the excerpt and want to read more!
ReplyDeleteWonderful excerpt. IS this book going to be part of a mystery series?
ReplyDeleteThanks Angelina. So far I have too many settings and plots running around in my head to stick to a series, although I admit Griffin and Rachel are favorites of mine. I have a WIP with another--totally different but equally fetching--couple. Maybe after that... Thanks for reading!
ReplyDeleteGreat excerpt MS. Sounds like a great read. Thanks for being a guest today.
ReplyDelete