Murder in the Bedroom by Katherine Pym

Madam, did you murder your husband?

Apparently, bedrooms are perfect for murder. The victim is usually already in a prone position (won’t fall and break anything). The victim is usually already asleep so there’s no resistance to their demise. The mattress will soak up the blood, if that’s the way a murderer wants to perform the act. All he or she has to do is cover up the dead body with blankets already on the bed. 

Easy-peasy. 

We will kill them now

Authors have often killed off a person in the bedroom. Take Anya Seton in her Dragonwyck. She used the oleander flower to brighten up a sick room. I’ve read this plant is extremely poisonous. Even if a bee takes its pollen, and you later gather honey from said bee’s nest, eat the honey, you can fall very ill. I haven’t heard if you can die from the honey, though. Anya Seton merely had her naughty protagonist set an oleander plant near his sick wife’s bed. The next morning she was dead. Very cleanly done. No blood. Her body was already covered with blankets. 

Back in the day (maybe even now), some innkeepers (sort of like the dastardly couple in the musical Les Mis) would kill a wealthy customer for the gold he/she carried. One couple who owned the Crane Inn near Reading, England murdered wealthy patrons for years without getting caught. 

Waiting for the victim to drop

Their process was elaborate. They outfitted a bedroom located above the kitchen (nice and cozy in the winters I expect, what with heat rising, so a coveted room). The innkeepers nailed the bed to a trapdoor located over a huge boiling cauldron used to brew beer. When the trapdoor opened the poor victim fell off the bed into this boiling cauldron, clothes and all, he never had a moment to cry out but would be immediately parboiled, then drowned (sort of like the play Sweeny Todd but with water). The innkeepers would mount a ladder into the bedroom, steal all his goods, and reset the trapdoor. The body would then be cast into a local river. 

That seems like a lot of hard work. 

Then Thomas Harding (another author) wrote of a woman whose husband continually imbibed. One night she couldn’t take it anymore and sewed her dead-drunk husband very tightly in the bedclothes. She unstitched him the following morning to find him quite expired. The coroners said it was a stroke. On her wedding night with her next husband, she very casually told him what she had done. I’d wager the new husband didn’t sleep well that night. 

Someone died here

There are many bedrooms that are ghost ridden due to suicides, murders, and just plain natural deaths. There was a time when, if you tried to sell your home, the estate agent would ask if anyone died there. If you answered yes, the house would be difficult to sell. So, what do you say? 

 

Nothing, and do sleep well, tonight. 

 Many thanks to: Warm & Snug, The History of the Bed, by Lawrence Wright, First published 1962 by Routledge & Keagan Paul, Ltd. England

Pictures come from Wikicommon, public domain

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Writing Groups and Critique Partners by Diane Bator

One of the best things any author can do is join a writing group or find other writers to critique their work. I wouldn't be where I am today without the support of both a local writing group and an online critique group.

When I moved across Canada from Alberta to Ontario in January 2006, I didn't know anyone in town - or even in the province. A year later, I found the Headwaters Writers' Guild. As eclectic as any group of writers could be, we varied in ages from young parents to seventy year olds. From new writers to veterans of the publishing world. But we all shared one love:  the written word. We have all been published in some form or another and we have all celebrated each others' successes. As we've aged, we've learned and been their to support one another through life's trials and tribulations. They were the people who encouraged me to write and finish my first novel and heard each word before the manuscript was ever sent to an agent or publisher. Our numbers ebb and flow as members come and go, but a few of us have been a part of the core group for many years. This April, for example, will mark my ninth year with the HWG and I still attend meetings as much as I can and at every meeting, I write a new scene for a new novel.

In our writing group, we take turns as leaders and use our two hours ever second Sunday to read things we've written and gather feedback from the group. We also take 15 - 20 minutes each meeting to write using prompts the leader that week chose for the occasion. Writing prompts, even used alone for some quiet writing practice, are a great way to exercise a writer's skills at letting thoughts flow. Many of the best stories and novels that have emerged from our group have their basis in our prompts.

Shortly after joining the writing group, I joined an online critique group. Through one of the women in this new group, I was introduced to my agent who has believed in me from the start, then to Books We Love who published my first novels.

In the years since, I've gone on to work with other now-published writers as critique partners. Reading other author's works in progress is a great way to provide continuous learning and help to recognize patterns and habits in our own work - good and bad. It also provides for solid connections in the writing world which can help with any writing career.

My best advice for a budding writer of any age is to join a writing group for the moral and literary support they can offer. Don't be afraid to share your work or to get help when you're stuck. A good writing group will give you both if you keep an open mind.

Diane Bator

MAKE LOVE NOT WAR - MARGARET TANNER

VIETNAM WAR – MEMORIES OF THE 1960'S

 At the risk of revealing my age, I have to say the 1960’s was my time. Mini-skirts, stilettos (I’ve got the bunions to prove it), beehive hair-dos, I couldn’t quite manage that, although I did tease the life out of my hair and regularly put in coloured rinses, French Plum or Rich Burgundy, were the colours I favoured. I can remember when the Beatles made their first visit out to Australia. A couple of girls I worked with were lucky enough to get tickets to their concerts, (we hated them, of course), they came to work the next days minus their voices, and stayed that way for about a week, because they had screamed so much.

We used manual typewriters in those days. One original and four copies of everything we typed. I don’t know how many blouses I ruined because I got ink on the sleeves from changing the typewriter ribbon or the black stuff off the carbon paper.

During this time the Vietnam War loomed in the background. The Australian government introduced conscription. It was in the form of a ballot, or the death lottery as many called it. All twenty year old males had to register, their birth dates were put into a barrel and a certain number were drawn out, and those young men had to report to the army and subsequently many of them were sent to Vietnam. This of course caused severe bitterness and division in the community, and even though the government denied it, was subject to abuse and unfairness. Rich men kept their sons at university so they didn’t have to go.  Conscientious objectors were thrown into prison. Only sons were called up, yet families with two or three eligible males didn’t have any of their boys called up.

I only had one brother, and I can clearly remember my father (a World War 2 veteran) vowing, that if his son got called up, he would protest on the steps of the parliament with a placard on his back.

There were protests marches, anti-war demonstrations, and things often turned violent. Not that I went to any of the protest marches, but a cousin of mine did and got trampled by a police horse. A very turbulent time in our history and I was right in the middle of it.

BLURB:  MAKE LOVE NOT WAR

Make love, not war was the catch cry of the 1960’s. Against a background of anti-war demonstrations, hippies and free love, Caroline’s life is in turmoil. Her soldier brother is on his way to the jungles of Vietnam. She discovers she is pregnant with her wealthy boss’ baby, and her draft dodger friend is on the run and needs her help. 

http://www.amazon.com/Make-Love-Not-War-ebook/dp/B0094WQOPU/ref=sr_1_12?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1346642917&sr=1-12&keywords=margaret+tanner

 

BIO:  Margaret Tanner is a multi-published award winning Australian author. She loves delving into the pages of history as she carries out research for her historical romance novels, and prides herself on being historically accurate. No book is too old or tattered for her to trawl through, no museum too dusty, or cemetery too overgrown. Many of her novels have been inspired by true events, with one being written around the hardships and triumphs of her pioneering ancestors in frontier Australia.

As part of her research she has visited the World War 1 battlefields in France and Belgium, a truly poignant experience.

Margaret is married with three grown up sons, and two gorgeous little granddaughters.

Outside of her family and friends, writing is her passion.

http://www.margarettanner.com

 

 

Books We Love's Tantalizing Talent ~ Author Tricia McGill

Tricia McGill was born in London many moons ago, but moved to Australia 50 years ago come next October. She worked in the fashion industry most of her working life, following in the footsteps of her mother and sisters, who all worked in this trade in one form or another. The primary school she attended is still going strong. In this small local school one of her favorite lessons was English and she was one of the best spellers in her class, and loved to be the one asked by the teacher to stand and read for the class. Maths and science held little interest for her, but reading, well, the local library was a treasure house full of adventure and excitement.

Tricia’s books can be found here on her BWL author page:

http://bookswelove.net/authors/mcgill-tricia/

 

"I’ve always been a dreamer and some of my dreams have ended up in my books. Always a romantic it followed that this would be my chosen genre. I love reading and hence writing Time-Travels and hope someone invents a time machine in my lifetime. How exciting would it be to travel back in time to see what it was really like to live without mod-cons and all the things that we rely on today? But—I would always want to return to my nice comfy home and my gadgets. And how would I live without my computer? And air conditioner? I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be a woman in the days when they had to wear layers and layers of unnecessary clothing, not to mention corsets! 

My romances cross a few sub-genres and as well as Time-Travels I write contemporary romance, historical, mainstream, and futuristic.

When not writing or working on my books I am a volunteer for a community group that assists disabled folk in their homes with their computer and the internet, a fulfilling pastime.

Any left-over time I like to potter about in my garden, walk my two small dogs or spend time with friends and family."

Amazon

Latest Release: When Fate Decides, Challenge the Heart Book 1

    For too long Tessa has seen herself as plain and dowdy, just an ordinary suburban housewife. With her confidence eroded after being married to a bully who humiliated her at every opportunity, why wouldn’t she presume she was unattractive, and someone no man would find the least bit worth bothering with?

    But now Tessa is a widow, and relishing her new state of independence. Her world is turned upside down by Jack Delaney, a man she spent hours fantasizing over when he worked for her husband. A man who gave her a deliciously secret outlet from her miserable marriage. When Jack enters her life again, professing he finds her attractive, why would she believe him? Especially as he is now wealthy, successful, still extremely handsome, and to add to that, years younger than her.

Amid the Stars:

Amazon

    

 Terrified, and in fear for her life after her husband, an undercover cop, is killed, Melanie Ross has nowhere to hide.

    A squadron from a far planet visiting Earth on a reconnaissance survey prepares to leave, without one of their members who is dying of a virus.

    Irena must remain on Earth, so seeks a replacement to take her craft back to the other side of the Universe. Seeing Melanie’s predicament she offers her an escape. Reluctantly Melanie agrees. Conquering her fears, she must learn to live among a superior race on Qindaga.

    Reve, commander of the star ship circling their planet, bears an inexplicable resemblance to her dead husband. Passion flares amid the stars, but can love with an alien flourish?

Amazon

Leah in Love (and Trouble)

    Violet Amelia Connor, known to all as Leah, is a landscape designer who inherited her love of gardening from the eccentric aunt she lives with. Leah is contracted to work on the garden of Private Investigator Sean Russel and unwittingly becomes embroiled in the handsome PI’s cases. A series of unpleasant experiences land her in real trouble where she is kidnapped, bashed, bound and altogether becomes a party to such mayhem she is forced to wonder how she ever got mixed up in this mess. But her indomitable spirit, obstinate nature, and incurable sense of humor enable her to override all obstacles. And of course there is her overwhelming attraction for Sean Russel that started it all.

Settlers Series (Historical Romance)

Mystic Mountains Book 1

Distant Mountains Book 2

Mainstream

Remnants of Dreams

Time-Travel

Maddie and the Norseman

Futuristic/Sci-Fi Fantasy

Amid the Stars

Wild Heather (Time-Travel)

The Laird Book 1

Travis Book 2

Beneath Southern Skies (Contemporary Romance)

Lonely Pride Book 1

A Dream for Lani Book 2

Leah in Love (and Trouble) Book 3

Challenge the Heart (Contemporary Romance)

When Fate Decides Book 1

MEMORIES ARE MADE OF THIS by Shirley Martin

Buy on Amazon

My publisher wanted our readers to become acquainted with its authors, and this is my contribution.  The title of this  article didn’t originate with me.  Dean Martin popularized a song with this title, and you can listen to it here.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mv9PSkNkUfs

Nineteen thirty-four, the trough year of the Depression.  I don’t remember that year of my birth, but I do recall growing up without the normal amenities that others take for granted.  Later in life, I learned there’s a word to describe this condition. It’s called poverty.  My dad was a civil engineer, but work was scarce during the ‘30s.  I was born near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania but spent my younger years in my mother’s home state of Florida.  When I was four or five, my family–mom and dad, three older brothers–moved back to Pittsburgh.

Jobless, my father took the family out to “the country” where we raised chickens.  We lived in a three-room shack with no running water, no central heating, and no refrigerator.  As noted, we were poor, but as Ronald Reagan said, the government didn’t come and tell us we were poor, so we didn’t know it.  Or at least, my brothers and I didn’t know it.  In lieu of a refrigerator, we dug a deep hole in the ground and covered it with a large rock.  Of course, there was no frozen food then, so we kept milk, butter and eggs there.

My mother made my dresses out of feed sacks.  My father took me with him when he bought the feed sacks and let me pick them out, as I knew that would be my next dress.

We lived close to a woods, and I remember the fun my brothers and I had swinging on a monkey vine.  Every Saturday, my dad gave each of us a dime for the movies, and we walked over a mile to the movie theater.  We saw not only the main feature, but the news and a few shorts, such as The Three Stooges and The Phantom.

It gets very cold in Pittsburgh, and every year, I got a new snow suit.  And speaking of snow, we made our own ice cream by scooping up a dishful of snow, sprinkling it with sugar, and pouring milk over it.  Living close to two steel mills, we had to scoop up the snow before it became dusted with soot.

There was no TV at this time, but we had a radio and listened to Jack Benny, Lights Out, The Shadow, and other programs.  (Lights Out was very scary, or so it seemed to me.)  One Sunday afternoon when I was seven, we were listening to the radio and heard the newscaster announce that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor.  Wartime was upon us, and we had practice air raids. Defiantly, my dad left a lamp burning, saying that the Germans would never bomb Pittsburgh.  But of course they would if they were able, the city being the main iron and steel producer of the country.  In any event, the air raid warden told my dad to turn the lamp off.

Wartime brought tragedies.  As I wrote in my article titled, “Cold Winter, Hot War,” one of my neighbors was killed driving a truckload of ammunition that hit a mine.  I still remember his name, Eddy Poljanec.

Skipping ahead a few years, after I graduated from high school, I attended the University of Pittsburgh and graduated from the School of Education.  I taught high school for one year. Back then, we didn’t have days off for planning or making up report cards.  We performed those tasks  on our own time.  At any rate, teaching didn’t appeal to me, and I quit after one year.

A problem faced me then: Where would I work?  One of my friends suggested that I try for a position as a stewardess.  (That’s what we called flight attendants then.)  Aware I had nothing to lose, I filled out a few applications to airlines and sent them in.  Soon enough, Eastern Air Lines hired me.  (An airline that went out of business decades later.)

This was the happiest time of my life.  Based in Miami, I enjoyed my job, traveling to different cities and meeting many people.  This was before Women’s Lib reared its progressive head.  I remember the racy  remarks the all-male crew often made.  If I just got on the plane with a smile on my face, I got an off-color remark.  I just laughed and took the comments in my stride, but I realize that women would never contend with such comments today.

A late bloomer, I hadn’t dated in high school but dated a few men in college.  While living in Miami, I met a man from Beirut, Lebanon, who had come to Miami for pilot training.  His name was Hanna (Arabic for John.  He was Greek Orthodox, in case you wondered.)  We dated a while, but I broke up to date other men.  John and I got back together and soon were going steady.  When he asked me to marry him, I accepted.  At this point, my father flew down from Pittsburgh to meet John.

Finished with his training, John flew back to Beirut.  I saw him off, coming on board the plane with him.   I still remember the look of desolation on his face as we said goodbye.  I think he realized then we would never see each other again.

My roommate and her boyfriend no doubt realized that John was not the man for me, and that we couldn’t have had a happy marriage, with my moving to Beirut.  They introduced me to a man from their office, Ron Martin. Like my father, Ron was a civil engineer.  We began dating, and I had to write a letter to John, telling him I had met another man.  How can one write such a letter and not hurt someone else?

Ron and I married and had three boys, spaced two-three years apart.  After forty-four years of marriage, my husband died of prostate cancer.  With his passing, this was an especially difficult time for me.  Our  youngest son, a firefighter/paramedic, was bipolar, a condition that hadn’t manifested itself while my husband was living.  At least, we weren’t aware of it.  For many years, David suffered terribly with depression.  A few years after my husband’s death, David joined him.  I miss him so very much.

My two other sons lived far away, and I had no one to keep me in Miami.  So I moved to Birmingham, Alabama, where my middle son lived.  A few years after my move to Birmingham, I resumed writing, something I’d done in earlier years.  Now I’m published with Books We Love.
My books are available at Amazon, Smashwords, AllRomance eBooks, Barnes and Noble KOBO, the Apple 1store and at other sites where ebooks are available online.  Some titles are also in print and available at your local bookstore.

This month, I’m featuring “Dream Weaver” my time travel romance.  It was a CAPA (Cupid and Psyche Award) nominee and has garnered twenty-one reviews, mostly 4 and 5 star.  It’s yours during February for .99 cents.

Please check out my website.  www.shirleymartinauthor.com
Check at these places, too.
https://twitter.com/mshirley1496
https://www.facebook.com/shirley.martin716970
http://bookswelove.net/authors/martin-shirley