Living the Dream

An Interview with Me

Many thanks to my author friend Uvi Pozansky for featuring this interview with me in her newsletter. https://uviart.bmeurl.co/13A7E66F

Susanne Lee Matthews, Author ofThe Awakening

Today I have the pleasure to present an author who is retired educator. Susanne Matthews spends her time creating adventures for her readers in a variety of genres that range from contemporary to romantic thrillers. She loves the ins and outs of complex stories and the journey it takes to get from the first word to the last period of a novel. She lives in Eastern Ontario, Canada with her husband.

When did you decide that you wanted to be a published author?

As a child, I guess. I am Asthmatic, a condition that was much harder to treat in the 1950s and 1960s than it is today. I spent a lot of time home sick, along with regular stays in the hospital, which I suspect was more to allow my family to sleep than to help me. I loved books. At first, it was picture books. Then I graduated to Little Golden Books, with text to accompany the pictures. From there, I moved on to graphic novels, what we used to call comic books. In time, I was able to read more complex novels like Swiss Family Robinson, War of the Worlds, Treasure Island, as well as my Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys books. I remember telling my parents that I would love to be able to write books like that to entertain people who were sick or spent a lot of time alone like I did. My dad was a great storyteller, and I hoped I had even a sliver of his imagination.
As the years passed, asthma treatments improved, but I would still have the odd bad bout. When I did, I retreated into my books again. By this time, I’d discovered history, ancient civilizations, and mythology. There wasn’t a book on Ancient Egypt, Greece or Rome in our library that I didn’t read.
I graduated from high school and went to university where I chose to complete my Bachelor of Arts with a double major in English and history. I also fell in love, got married, and over the course of the next ten years, I was lucky enough to be a stay-at-home-mother to our three children. Nap time for them meant reading time for me. Once they were all in school full-time, I returned to university and earned my Bachelor of Education.
Over the years, I primarily taught English, and the creative writing activities were always my favorites. When I retired in 2010, I read books by the truckload, eventually spending more time critiquing what I was reading than enjoying the books. One day, a friend said that I should take the plunge and try my hand at writing a novel. I’d already written short stories for children for our local newspaper, poetry, and curriculum, so I figured what did I have to lose? I penned the novel, submitted it to a publisher, and it was accepted. The edits required were eye-opening, but I learned more about writing by doing than I had in the 35 years of teaching it. My first book was published on April 23, 2013, Shakespeare’s birthday, something I considered a good omen. Since then, I’ve published 54 novels and I’m currently at work on 55, 56, and 57.
I’ve satisfied my need to write books to entertain others, and I hope they are pleased and satisfied with my work. While I’m at the age where most people retire completely, I’m not ready to stop writing yet. There are still a few characters racing around inside my head, begging me to tell their stories.

You write books in the romance genre, but I can see that you do so in several different subgenres. Which book do you have with you today and into which of these many sub-genres does it fit?

Actually, the book I have with me straddles several genres. The Awakening, is from my paranormal-fantasy-romance series, Listen to the Stones. It’s a multi-book series written along the lines of JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series, or JK Rowling’s Harry Potter books. I’m not claiming to be as brilliant and talented as they are, but I’m hoping the people who enjoy that type of book will enjoy mine.
There are four books in Listen to the Stones, each one covering a step of the journey not only of self-discovery and love, but also of the on-going battle between good and evil.

Here’s the description for the entire series. Listen to the Stones, Four Book Series True love is the most powerful magic in the universe. For ten millennia, the world has waited but now, the time of reckoning approaches. When it arrives, the Chosen One will have a chance to break a curse and reverse an eons old spell. The choice is hers, to be made using free will, the gift given to all by Danu, the mother of the gods. If she makes the right choice, she’ll save her world; the wrong one will doom them all. But to do so, she has to believe in herself, her psychic abilities, magic, and the power of love.
“You must fulfill your destiny, find true love, and break the curse.” Those were Marina Fraser Robertson Mitchell’s grandmother’s last words, but Nana hadn’t been well for a long time. She’d lived in a fantasy world no doubt brought on by her unusual beliefs and the recollection of the folk tales she used to read to her as a child.
But Nana’s words could well be prophetic. Her life has consisted of one overwhelming loss after another. Added to the sense of failure is the fact that she senses that she doesn’t belong here. She spends her days battling fears and phobias, trying to downplay the way she can hear and feel the thoughts of others, and her nights fighting off monsters in recurring nightmares that threaten her sanity. But these bad dreams feel more like memories than imaginings. At the heart of them, amidst the horror, are strange standing stones that speak to her in an ancient language, a faceless lover, and a red-eyed creature who terrifies her.
When she loses the last thing she holds dear and her world is crumbling beneath her, she’s distraught, convinced that she should never have been born. But things aren’t as dismal as she believes. Changes are happening within her, some as frightening as they are liberating. The answer may be within reach—an inheritance from a great-uncle she never knew existed. To claim it, she has to return to the Scottish island where she was born, but can she do so? Can she face the thought of living on an island, surrounded by deep water, the thing that terrifies her most?
A firm believer in mysticism and reincarnation, archeologist and novelist Jerome Morrison can’t deny the power of the mysterious stone circle near Fraser Hall, stones that speak to him. The last few years, a woman has haunted his dreams, a woman he loves above all others, a woman he’s convinced was his in another lifetime but was lost to him. Now, he must find her, positive that his future lies with hers. But discovering that everything he knew about himself is a lie confounds the situation. When the dreams stop and strange things begin to happen to him, there’s a sense of urgency he can’t dismiss. Discovering that his mystery woman is none other than Marina Fraser, heir to the Fraser estate and the land on which the mysterious stones sit, comes as a shock, especially when she doesn’t recognize him and there is another, one who triggers powerful feelings of hatred within him, vying for her attention, her love, and her land. How can he convince her that they are meant to be together when she doesn’t trust him or recall the love they once shared?
There’s a war coming, one they must fight united. The future is at stake, and time is running out. Each side must muster their forces for the final battle. Evil has grown even stronger than the gods anticipated. Three will fight, two will survive, but which two? The answer lies with the Standing Stones on the Fraser estate.
Will these two lost souls find true love, or will the demon-demigod’s rage and power keep them apart? Only as one can they prevent him from dooming the world to a living hell. The first book, The Awakening, focuses primarily on Marina, the heroine of the saga. With her, we live through the changes as she discovers that she is far more than she ever thought she could be. We also meet the hero, Jerome, and the demon-demigod, Teine, through dreams and nightmares that shake Marina’s world.

Here’s the burb for The Awakening. An only child raised by a secretive, single mother who forever mourned the loss of the man she loved and an Irish grandmother who espoused a strange blend of Christianity and paganism, Marina Fraser Robertson Mitchell has eschewed all beliefs in magic and fantasy that made up a great deal of her early life, but doing so hasn’t stopped the vicious nightmares about monsters and a deep water phobia that have haunted her for years.
As her thirtieth birthday approaches, changes are happening within her, alterations to her personality that lead to psychic abilities she neither wants nor understands. She’s convinced that she’s on the verge of madness, an insanity brought on by some form of physical illness or mental illness inherited from her maternal grandmother.
When her ex-husband sends over three boxes and a footlocker that were misplaced after her mother’s passing, Marina discovers that everything she knows about herself is a lie. While her mother’s letter gives her some explanations, it doesn’t explain her ESP, her sense that she doesn’t belong here, and her phantom lover. She has more questions than answers.
At the suggestion of her neighbor, a friendly, elderly woman with a cat named Rosie, Marina visits a psychic on her thirtieth birthday, but that only increases her confusion. The unusual woman greets her with the words, my lady, and exhorts her to accept herself for who and what she is. She warns her that the choices she makes from now on will determine who wins the final battle for the fate of the world. Shaken, Marina leaves, well aware of that those words are similar to those her grandmother spouted in her dying days.
As the nightmares she’s suffered so long continue, she searches for answers and a reprieve, an escape from a life in which she has lost everything that matters. Her prayers may be answered when she discovers that she has inherited property on the Isle of Lewis and Harris, the place where she suspects the standing stones from her dreams are located, stones that speak to her in the dead of night and may hold the answer to her future.
But can she accept what she’s becoming? Does she dare return to the place where she was born, a place her mother fled in fear? Everything she knows about herself is a lie. Is the truth waiting for her there? She has a choice to make. Will she make the right one? Only time will tell.

The series sounds fascinating. What made you decide to write something so complex?

I didn’t set out to write a four book series, but most authors know that the story they set out to write and the story they end up writing are never exactly the same. No matter whether you’re a plotter, a pantser, or some type of hybrid, life happens, and things change. Sometimes, the story just doesn’t work, and when that happens, you have to go back and figure out why. Writing involves putting words down, but it also means research, character development, rereading what’s been written, editing, and rewriting some more until the piece is as good as you can possibly make it. Sometimes, what you expect to be one story evolves into several others. During the summer of 2023, I had the opportunity to visit the Standing Stones of Calanais on the Isle of Lewis and Harris. If you haven’t heard of them, and I hadn’t until we booked the cruise, the stone circle is a neolithic monument on an island in the Outer Hebrides in Northern Scotland. It isn’t the only one of its kind since similar ones have been found in various places around the world including the Orkney Islands, the Brazilian rainforest, and even at the bottom of Lake Michigan here in North America.
I’d visited Stonehenge a few days earlier, and as much as the site with its great stones impressed me, it paled in comparison with my reaction to the Standing Stones of Calanais. It touched a creative spark in me that I rediscovered a few years ago–my love of fantasy and paranormal.
While I have written other novels in this genre, this is by far my most complex endeavor. Looking at the stones, walking among them, and touching them set off a chain reaction within me that I hadn’t expected. The need to create not just a story but an entire mythology about the place overwhelmed me. I not only needed to write the story, but I also needed to introduce the site to my readers and transport them into a realm of possibilities while keeping one foot grounded in this time and place, but I knew this couldn’t simply be a romance. I had to find a way to explain the stones. Why were they here? What were they? Even my unimaginative husband could see faces in them. Had there been a Medusa-like creature in the mythology of this place that had turned its residents to stone? One of the myths they mention in the visitors’ centre stated that the stones could be the island’s early inhabitants turned to stone for refusing to embrace Christianity. I took that premise and ran with it, changing it into something far more ancient. I decided the focus of the Listen to the Stones Saga would be on liberating the trapped souls and undoing the curse responsible for their misery.
The first step was to create a mythology, a backstory to explain how the stones had been cursed and who and what could break the spell. I researched and drew from Celtic, Scottish, Irish, and Norse mythologies. I learned all I could about paganism, druidism, Wicca, witchcraft, and the supernatural as it pertained to Scotland. The more I discovered, the more intrigued I was.
The story flowed from my fingertips. I fleshed out Marina, the main character and the key to breaking the curse, and Jerome, the hero who would need to be by her side to ensure success. I introduced the dark lord, the villain of the piece and the various secondary characters required. As I wrote, new ideas flooded me, ideas that invaded my dreams and stayed with me long after I woke. As I neared the end of the novel, I realized it would be a monster to publish. It was close to 700 pages long, and that was before final edits! What to do?
The stones kept calling to me, begging me to tell their story. In the end, instead of writing one book, I’ve written a series with each book leading to the last one, the ultimate battle between good and evil. The books are: The Awakening, The Homecoming, The Bonding, and The Reckoning.

Can you share any of the story with us?

Of course. Chapter One is the mythology that I created for the story, so here’s an excerpt from Chapter Two.

Marina Fraser Mitchell stared up at the darkened ceiling, tears of despair running down the sides of her face. How much longer could she go on this way? She was almost thirty, alone, struggling to make ends meet, and there didn’t seem to be any likelihood that the year starting in thirty minutes would be any better than the one ending. Not for the first time, she lamented the miserable life she had. She should never have been born, and yet deep inside her, the small voice she considered her conscience claimed she’d been put on this earth for an important reason, and sooner or later, that purpose would become clear. Perhaps she should’ve gone to Lenore and Jay’s party, had a few drinks, and rang in the new year in style, but socializing with others depleted what few resources she had.
As Lenore put it, she just wasn’t a people person. People were loud, sometimes so loud that it was as if they’d crawled inside her head and wouldn’t let her think. Lenore, her best friend, had suggested it could be a hearing issue like harmonic distortions. She’d visited an audiologist and the woman had assured her that there was nothing wrong with her hearing. If anything, she was extra sensitive to sounds. That hadn’t helped at all.
Marina sighed. The truth was that she’d never been comfortable in crowds and shied away from situations where making nice-nice with strangers was required. Given the choice, she preferred to be alone or with the few people she knew well, people who accepted her as she was—warts and all. Not that she had actual warts. Perhaps that was why she’d chosen to be a chef. Sure, there were people in the kitchen with her, but when it came right down to it, she was in charge and could socialize as much or as little as she wanted. Anything else was exhausting.
And make no mistake, she was exhausted. For the last few years, she’d felt her mind and body slipping away from her control, like a puppet on a string with someone else controlling all of her movements and thoughts. It was as if she was a character in a Punch and Judy Show, the one getting pounded all the time. Not only was her body tired and aching, her mind was fractured, and her soul was drained of all the joy that made life bearable.
While she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when this loss of control had happened, it had grown worse over the last five years, almost as if Fate herself were punishing her. Why? What could she possibly have done to deserve this? It was true that she’d made a few bad choices, decisions that had come back to bite her in the ass, but didn’t everyone? Wasn’t the point of making mistakes to learn from them? Sure, a few of hers, like her marriage, had been flagrant disasters, but had it really been all her fault?
There was a cure for the ailment that gripped her. She needed her faceless dream lover who’d appeared to her four years ago at one of the lowest moments of her life, not that things weren’t almost as bad now. In his arms, she belonged. She felt rejuvenated, alive as she rarely felt these days, and most of all she loved and was loved in return. The happiest day of her life should’ve been the one when she’d accepted that she would never find that love in real life, that she could stop searching for it, but instead, the knowledge filled her with both sorrow and dread.
She’d been searching for love and a sense of belonging her entire life. It wasn’t that her mother hadn’t loved her, but every time she’d looked at her watching her, Marina had seen the overwhelming sorrow in her mother’s eyes as she recalled the man she’d loved. Nana had been caring, but had always maintained a distance from her, one that had grown wider after the delusional dementia had changed her, and whatever love she’d had for her had turned to fear and anger.
And then, she’d met Bob. She’d liked him, enjoyed being in his company, but had she loved him? In her own way, she had, but the love she’d felt for him was a far cry from the passion her phantom lover ignited in her. It certainly hadn’t been enough for her ex-husband, a man who needed to be obeyed and adored by one and all. She’d done everything she could to please him, but he’d constantly criticized what he called her half-hearted efforts to be a good wife.
She should never have married him … she knew that now. Even on her wedding day, there had been an emptiness inside her, something missing that she couldn’t identify. Had that been the reason her marriage hadn’t survived the pandemic, her mother’s death, and her second-trimester miscarriage? Had it encouraged her husband’s roving eye, something she’d realized early in their union? A marriage without trust was no marriage at all. Perhaps the loss of her child had been a blessing. Having a baby wouldn’t have changed anything; it might just have made everything worse. But she’d wanted that baby so badly…
And here she was, older, worn out, and alone again. Even her fantasy lover had abandoned her.
She swiped at the tears and sighed. What she needed was a few nights of deep, uninterrupted, restorative sleep. Anyone who said sleep was overrated was a fool. Falling asleep should be automatic. You climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and closed your eyes. Sure, some nights it took a few minutes to drift off, but recently, what little sleep she managed to get consisted of confusing dreams, long periods of wakefulness, and terrifying nightmares, many of them involving the one thing she feared most—deep water.
Every now and then, she would catch brief glimpses of the comforting green hills she’d first seen in her late teens, the ones with a stone circle in the distance. When she’d first seen them, she’d drawn them and had shown the sketch to her mother. Her mother had praised her imagination, but her eyes had been filled with sorrow. Recently, she’d dreamed that those stones spoke to her in the same ancient language her lover did, but their haunting words made no sense—The time of reckoning is at hand. Return to the land of your ancestors. Find true love. Make the right choice. Free us.
Choice? What choice? It was true that her current life was a mess, but it seemed that all the choices she made backfired—not going to school, staying to look after her grandmother and then her mother, and marrying a man she didn’t love. As for the land of her ancestors, wasn’t that right where she was, or could it be Ireland where her grandmother’s family had originated? Did it matter? The truth was she wasn’t going anywhere.
Her worst nights were filled with vicious nightmares. She would awaken crying, frightened—no terrified—by horrendous creatures reaching for her, ripping at her flesh with claws, and sucking the life out of her. When they’d started, not even Bob had been able to console her. Eventually, he’d stopped trying and had moved to his own room, increasing the void growing between them. Then, she’d lost the baby. He claimed she needed to see a psychiatrist, insinuating that her grandmother’s illness might now be hers. He might well be right since the night terrors continued, including new ones where she was drowning or being buried alive, sensations so real that they stayed with her for hours afterward.
The nightmares wouldn’t be so bad if her lover were there, standing beside her, fighting off the monsters with her, but he never was, and she always awoke cold, wet, and alone. She would give anything to be in his arms again.
Tears trickled from her eyes, ran down the side of her face, and landed on the pillow. She turned onto her side, pulled herself into the fetal position, and prayed to the man who existed only in her dreams.
“Come to me, lover,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what’s keeping you away, what’s keeping us apart, but I need you more than I ever have.”
The nightlight combined with the open curtains cast pale, shadow-filled light in the bedroom as Marina cried herself to sleep. The bed beneath her vanished, replaced by a woven blanket atop soft grass inside a green grotto created by the closely knit trees. Common sense told her this bower existed only within her imagination, but that didn’t matter. It was as real as she needed it to be, and tonight she needed it and him more than ever. The fresh aroma of pine, cedar, and the woodsy scent that was his alone invigorated her. As usual, their love nest was dark and shadowy, but she was never afraid here, especially when he held her as he did now.
She ran her hands along his muscled arms, across his tight shoulders, over his slightly hairy chest, and down his taut abdomen.“I’ve missed you, my love. Without you, loneliness is unbearable.”The words didn’t come from her mouth—they never did. Instead, they formed in her mind, in the ancient language her psyche understood.
She reached up and caressed his face, still shrouded in darkness, as her fingers caught in the hairs of his soft, neatly groomed beard. What would it be like to see his face clearly, to lose herself in the color of his hair and the magic of his eyes? The eyes were the mirror of the soul. She didn’t doubt his feelings for her. They were as real as her own, but since he was only a figment of her imagination, how could they be real?
With her hand against his cheek, she felt his smile.“As I’ve missed you, dearest one,” he answered telepathically. His jaw tensed. “Let’s not waste a minute of the precious time we have. I need you, sweetness. It’s been so long…”
She sighed. “You’re the only good thing in my life. The only time I feel whole is when you’re with me. I know you aren’t real, but if you are a figment of my imagination, don’t leave me again.”
“I’m as real as you are, my love. I will find you, and we will be together once more as we were meant to be. You must believe as I do.” He raised her hand to his chest. “I feel it here. My heart beats for you. We belong together. We are one.”
He rolled her onto her back and fastened his lips on hers. He tasted of mead and honey, and she was soon on her way to a realm of sensations that only he could create. His smooth hands traveled along her bare skin, filling her with unparalleled desire. His tongue plunged into her mouth, battling for supremacy with hers, a battle she happily ceded. This was more than a physical joining. It was a melding of body, heart, and soul. If magic existed, then this was it. It lived and breathed when they were together.
His lips left her mouth and traveled to that delicate spot under her ear, and her entire body tensed, becoming an instrument that only he could play. His hands moved along her torso, setting fires wherever they kneaded and caressed. Desire built inside her, an ache only he could assuage. He moved over her, spread her legs, and plunged into her core, sending them both spiraling into a whirlpool of sensations. Her body exploded into a thousand points of light, filling her with the energy she’d been lacking. She reached up to hold him tightly to her, when suddenly, something ripped him away from her. His pained cry tore through her mind.
Startled, she sat up, her arms and hands automatically seeking to cover her nudity.
A dark, billowy shape filled the entrance to the bower, stealing the heat from the confined space and filling it with the odor of evil, death, and decay. She shivered. The form’s only distinguishable features were its unblinking, burning, crimson eyes, eyes she’d seen before in the depths of her nightmares.
“You are mine. Not his. Not then, not now. Everything that you are, everything that is you, is mine and only mine.”
The angry words, spoken in the ancient language, erupted inside her mind, bringing with them memories that couldn’t possibly be her own and a deep-seated fear she couldn’t shake. The translucent blob slithered closer, a fetid stench unlike anything she’d ever smelled before wafted over her as the darkness gobbled up the dim light. She screamed, scrambling to pull herself away from it.
A brilliant light filled the grotto as if the very skies above it were aflame. The blob thinned, becoming more like smoke than a dark cloud. A gigantic black cat appeared filling the space between her and the miasma, its back arched as it hissed and growled at the intruder. Expecting more cat noises, she jerked as a woman’s voice filled the emptiness.
“Enough, servant of darkness, let her be. The appointed time has not yet arrived. Neither you nor your master has any power here. She still belongs to me as does the vessel that bears her essence. Be gone. When the time comes, they will be one and the choice will be hers, and hers alone.”
An impossibly bright flash of white light, brighter than any fork of lightning she’d ever seen, made Marina cover her eyes. The creature yowled in pain, and forcing herself to look, she watched as the vapor was sucked away like a genie pulled back into its bottle. The grotto vanished. Jumping up, sweat-covered, her heart pounding, Marina glanced around the dimly-lit room.
What the hell was that?
This dream had been different from anything else she’d endured. The birthmark on her left arm, the one that looked a lot like a bruise from fingers gripping her, throbbed. That arm had always been weak, easily bruised and injured. Mom had claimed she had a genetic bone deformity under the birthmark, something she’d inherited from her Irish ancestors. Occasionally, like tonight, it produced a burning ache that could last for hours.
Marina closed her eyes, forcing herself to recall the dream before it faded from her mind as they usually did. Her lover had been in their secret love nest. They’d come together in their usual spectacular manner, but the energy she’d experienced during the mating was dissipating far faster than it usually did.
There had been others in her dream—a large black cat, a woman’s voice, and the angry, evil miasma with burning red eyes. Her gaze fastened on the alarm clock. Midnight. The witching hour Nana would’ve said. It had only been a dream, a new nightmare to plague her sleep. If only her lover were real and not a fantasy. He would hold her in his arms and protect her from the creature of the night, the evil entity with the crimson eyes that burned her very soul.
She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. In the mirror she stared at her reflection. There was something about her eyes—had the color changed? It did occasionally, depending on what she was wearing, but tonight, they seemed blue rather than silvery gray. The dark circles under her eyes gave her a haunted look. And why not? Wasn’t she haunted? Wasn’t she cursed as Nana would’ve said? She blinked. The blue in her eyes was gone. She shook her head. Perhaps she was going crazy. Only time would tell.
“Believe in him, believe in yourself.”
Marina jumped. “Who said that?” She glanced around the small room. It was empty. “Here’s something new. Hearing voices. That can’t be a good thing.”
She poured two ibuprofen tablets into her hand to assuage the ache in her arm, swallowed them, and returned to bed. The sensation of being watched lingered, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
She turned onto her side and allowed the frustrated tears to fall once more. The woman’s words echoed in her mind.
The choice will be hers, and hers alone.
“My choice? As if that’s ever made a difference, but it would be nice to know what I’m supposed to choose,” she blubbered.
Before she could dwell on the conundrum, she fell into a restless sleep. Thank you so much Uvi Poznansky for having me here. I appreciate it.

For those who would like to know more about me and my writing, here is my Contact information:

Book Link:
The Awakening is available from Amazon in eBook, paperback, and audio formats.

Author Links:
Website

Tuesday Tales: From the Word CONFIDENT

It’s Tuesday again and welcome to this edition of Tuesday Tales. Can you believe it? We’re only ten days away from the first day of spring 2026. This winter has been a long one and despite what the calendar says, it isn’t over yet, but today we have sunshine, and for now, most of the snow is gone. Today, our authors are writing to the word prompt CONFIDENT. I’m continuing with The Case of the Missing Prince, my Evie Chambers Mystery.

“Let me get this straight. Zandro wasn’t supposed to be in Calgary at all, let alone in the hotel where you arranged to meet Andressa.”

Viktor nodded. “That’s right. We hadn’t even set a time to meet until I called her, but I had no reason to suspect that she and Zandro knew each other. Her name never came up in his background check. I never suspected that they were acquainted.”

I snorted. “I would say they were more than acquainted if they spent the night together.”

“That may be, but their personal lives are none of my business.”

“He claimed they hadn’t seen one another in years, although he did seem to follow her career.” I mentioned the paper he mentioned they’d discussed.

“She’s brilliant and has risen to the top of her discipline. Andreea frequently guest-lectures at foreign universities. She’d just come back from Japan, when I contacted her after Leo’s brush with ZCE, so I didn’t expect her to go off again so soon. She was staying at a hotel close to the university, but since I had meetings at our hotel that afternoon, she agreed to come to me at four. I didn’t expect anyone from the team to be in the bar. I had checked on Anton, and then made arrangements to meet the others downstairs for a pre-dinner drink at seven. I assumed we would’ve finished our drink long before that. She spotted me and was heading my way when someone called her name—”

“Wait! Zandro called her name?”

“Yes. Didn’t he tell you that? She said his name aloud when she recognized him and hurried over to the bar where he sat. I hadn’t even noticed him until then. Since the last thing I wanted was for Zandro to know that she and I were supposed to meet, I hurried over to them and pretended not to know her. She was surprised, but when you work in espionage, you need to be prepared for anything.” He rubbed the back of his neck, no longer as confident as he’d been. “It seemed that she and Zandro had been very close at university years ago, but she ended the relationship and married another. She and her husband divorced last year. I won’t condone or denounce what happened between them. People get lonely, and old love is better than none.”

The melancholy note in his voice had me thinking he might be speaking from personal experience.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

I Came So Close! 981 Copies Uploaded. Thank You All!

Well, my week-long book bundle freebie has come to an end, and I am thrilled. Thank you so very much to everyone who participated. I gave away 981 copies of the Cocktails for You Box Set. Not only did it make a stressful week just a little bit better to know that so many took advantage of my gift, but it also made me realize how many people are interested in my work. I know that not everyone who downloaded the box set will read it, but I hope that those who do will enjoy it, and maybe escape from the current ugliness of the world if only for a few hours. And, if you enjoy the stories, could you consider leaving a review? It costs you nothing but would mean the world to me. If you decide you would like to read other books in the series, well, that would be swell, too!

So, what else is new with me?

After years of being Amazon exclusive, I have decided to experiment with going wide. I removed three books from Kindle Unlimited and published them on Draft 2 Digital, giving readers who do not subsrcibe to Amazon a chance to access some of my books. That includes people who read through KOBO and APPLE as well as other apps out there.

The books I chose for this adventure into going wide are:

Just for the Weekend

School’s out and it’s time to play with the grown-ups. Kindergarten teacher Cleo James is in a rut and needs a change. For the last three years, she’s been at her widowed dad’s beck and call, but enough is enough. When her best friend suggests a weekend in Vegas at a sci-fi convention, she sets aside some of her inhibitions, and agrees to visit Sin City. After all, it’s just for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong? Multimillionaire Sam Mason is sick of gold diggers. He’s looking for someone who’ll fall for him, not his wallet. The opportunity to disguise himself and mingle might just be the distraction he needs before embarking on his next big job. And, what harm can come from playing make-believe for a few days? When he meets a gorgeous redhead dressed to resemble a green-skinned slave girl, he’s entranced, and it gets even better when he realizes she’s mistaken him for a Chippendale. Between the sexual attraction and too much alcohol, he wakes up two days later married to his redheaded beauty. Sam’s head over heels in love with his bride, but she’s vanished. Finding her will be a lot harder than he thinks, especially when she’s played the name game, too.

Finding Melinda

If she isn’t Melinda Crites, who is she? And why is someone trying to kill her? Can she trust anyone? Especially the stranger who makes her heart sing.

When a family Christmas present among siblings backfires, Melinda Crites faces an identity crisis. Not only is she not a real Crites, but she also has no idea who her biological parents are, beyond the information in the DNA analysis.
Struggling with this new knowledge, Melinda decides to join the platform and see what comes of it. Within a month of retesting to make sure there hasn’t been an error made, she’s contacted by a man who claims to be her biological brother and invites her to visit him and the rest of his family in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Desperate to find herself once more and discover her roots, she agrees to go, hoping that by learning the truth, she’ll be able to find her center once more and get on with her life. What she doesn’t expect is to fall in love with her brother’s partner.

When Marc Mason, CFO for Mason-Scott Aquaculture, the largest seafood growing and processing enterprise on Cape Breton, learns that his business partner and best friend, Darcy Scott may have located his missing twin, he agrees to help his best friend discover more about the mysterious Melinda Crites. If she really is his sibling, Darcy plans to give her a share of the business and the family wealth. If she isn’t, then he’ll expose her for the fraud she is.

But not everyone is excited to welcome a long-lost relative, and when a car tries to run down Melinda outside her hotel, quick action on Marc’s part saves her life. The last thing he wants from her is hero worship. She may or may not be a fraud and has no reason to trust him, but how can he let anything happen to the woman who calls to his soul?

A Case of Mistaken Identity, An Evie Chambers Mystery

When a body identified as her own washes ashore near the Pointe au Père Lighthouse, it throws Evelyn Chambers’s life into chaos.
Professional diver Evie Chambers gave up working with the Underwater Retrieval Team when the last body she recovered hit too close to home. Now, she works as a private detective to fill her days and keep the nightmares at bay. The last thing she expects is to become a victim of one of her most frequently investigated crimes, identity theft. While that’s problematic in itself, having the thief die mysteriously turns the theft of her identity into a tricky situation.
The police inspector in charge of the case doesn’t trust outsiders and warns her to stay out of police business. Not satisfied with that attitude, Evie goes to Rimouski, Quebec to discover the truth for herself. She intends to find out why the stranger stole her identity and nothing, especially not a crusty old inspector, will stop her.
Alphonse Binette, the handsome Parks Canada employee who oversees the Empress of Ireland Museum piques her curiosity in more ways than one. In his spare time, Al runs a licensed dive company, one of the few allowed to go down to the wreck, and knows a lot more about the body found on the beach than she expected.
Al offers to help her with her investigation, and while Evie is cautious, she accepts. There are strange things going on in Pointe au Père, starting with a break-in at the museum, rumors of people rising out of the water, strange lights, sounds, vanishing boats, roads that appear where they shouldn’t, and a suspicious fire where another body is discovered.
The police inspector is determined to solve the case without Evie’s assistance or interference, but when circumstantial evidence makes Al the prime suspect in both the murder and the arson, it’s up to Evie to discover the truth and clear Al’s name before someone else dies.

While all three books are still available on Amazon, you can also find them here:

My experiment with going wide will include ten books by the end of April, and, if things work out, we’ll see where it goes from there. You can stay up-to-date on any changes as well as any new books I’ll release by visiting my website, https://mhsusannematthews.ca/

Have a wonderful week.

IWSG Monthly Blog Post for March 2026

Welcome to March 2026. It doesn’t look a whole lot different from January or February 2026 in my neck of the woods–not that I live in the woods. Still cold, still lots of snow, but I’m hopeful that things will change. Spring is bound to show up sooner or later, but for the record, the groundhog is a lousy weatherman.

This month’s question:

What elements do you include in your book launch? Or what do you have in mind for your future book launch? Or what advice do you have to offer to others planning to launch a book?

I’m ashamed to say that I do very little to launch my books beyond posting on my blog, Facebook, and X that I have a new book out. I suck at marketing. I have been a guest on a couple of other blogs, and I’m grateful for that, but overall. I just put the book out and hope my fans and maybe a couple of new readers will see it. Not the best plan, I know.

In the past, I limited myself even further by being exclusive to Amazon, so that I could benefit from Kindle Unlimited, but this year, I am trying something new, an experiment in going wide. I am publishing my books with both Amazon and Draft2Digital and giving up the KU option on ten previously published books in the hopes that I will use the broader market to find new readers. I’m not much of a gambler, and to me, I’m taking a huge chance, but we’ll see how it goes. I selected books in a variety of genres to try first. Fingers crossed that the experiment is successful.

What about you? How do you launch a book?

Tuesday Tales: From the Word GREEN

It’s March! Spring is only a few weeks away. I’m ready to kick Old Man Winter to the curb. What about you? This week, the Tuesday Tales authors are creating scenes around the word GREEN. I’m continuing with The Case of the Missing Prince. Today, I’m introducing you to a new character — doesn’t every disappearance involve a mysterious woman?

“As I do,” I asserted, pushing myself into the conversation once more. “I trust Al to have my back should we run into trouble. He’s honest and trustworthy.” I let the word hang there a minute before continuing. “When I’m hired to do a job, I don’t think of it as going into battle. Rather, I approach it much like I would a game of cards. If I agree to sit down to play poker with someone, I expect all fifty-two cards to be in the deck, not missing or up my opponents sleeves. Sadly, that’s not the case here. Emile Novak hired me to find the missing prince, but he failed to be honest with me; in fact, not one of you was candid with me on Monday. I’m not some green operative fresh off the turnip truck. I’m a skilled professional with the experience and reputation to prove it. Emile provided me with some information yesterday, but not enough. I need to know absolutely everything that happened if I’m going to succeed in recovering the prince. I’ve learned a great deal from Anton, Zandro, and Petrov today, things that should’ve been in the cards you laid on the table. Now, I would like to know why you lied to me.”

He straightened in his chair, his eyes narrow, trying to gauge how far I was prepared to push this.

“I wasn’t aware that I had,” he parried, leaning back, his gaze focused on mine.

“Bullshit!” The word exploded from me before I could stop it. “I realize that dealing with women in authority may not be what you’re used to, but when I asked you if anyone other than your party knew who Leo was, you said no. We both know that isn’t the truth. Andreea Popa knew who he was and who the other members of your party were—except perhaps Anton who wasn’t with you that night. She had dinner with the four of you, and spent the night in Zandro’s bed. He assured me that she knew that you were all climbing the Bow Glacier Falls area the following morning. You claimed that what happened to Leo wasn’t an accident, that someone had followed you to Calgary. You never mentioned her presence to Petrov, and I doubt you said anything to Emile. So, I ask you, how do you know Andreea Popa?

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Cocktails for You eBook Deal: Box Set Free March 2-6 , 2026

I wish I could say welcome to march, but with the weather as it is and all the depressing news these days, I don’t know what to expect, so I decided it might be a good time to offer readers a chance to relax, laugh, and dream. This week, have an eBook cocktail on me. This box set contains the first five books in my Cocktails for You Series. Along with the story, you’ll find the recipe for the cocktail buried inside the bundle. If ever there was a time to lighten up and enjoy, it’s now!

A delicious smorgasbord of romantic comedies designed to make you laugh and brighten your day.
Meet Kelly, Ronnie, Jewel, Sydney, and Robin, five women at a crossroad in life, each one searching to redefine themselves as only they can. Follow them as they blunder their way to falling in love and finding their own happily ever after.
Tequila Sunrise
She left him in stitches before pulling a Cinderella and disappearing. Ten years later, she wants a second chance.
Champagne Cocktail
She wrote a nasty letter to Santa, not expecting he would send a life-sized elf to her door with an offer she can’t refuse.
Buck’s Fizz
She’s determined to control her own destiny and not be a bargaining chip in her father’s business empire.
The Tipsy Pig
A socialite, a lone wolf, a snowstorm, and a pig with a taste for dandelion wine—the perfect recipe for disaster or romance?
Make Mine a Manhattan
What’s an author to do when she’s hopelessly stuck in her latest novel and the deadline is eight weeks away?

Enjoy!

And, when you finish those, check out the other books in the series.

Emerald Glow,

You don’t always get what you want, especially when a typo can spell disaster.

Photographer Lee Andrews has sworn off men and hopes this assignment with travel writer Sasha Fedorov will bring her the recognition she craves. She’ll be sharing a room with the author for the duration of the trip.
Discovering Sasha is male changes everything, especially when he didn’t expect to be working with a woman. Both are determined to be adults about the situation, keep their distance, and complete the contract. But that may be easier said than done, especially when the attraction she feels for him is magnetic. Can they keep their hands off each other and get the job done, or will her heart be broken along with the contract if they can’t?

Sea Breeze,

What do you do when your family disappoints you? Run away, of course.

Eva Malone wants two things in life: her freedom and answers about her past. After she inherits a resort from an uncle she didn’t even know existed, she heads to the seaside town where she was born, eager to uncover old secrets.
When she arrives, the timeworn resort is a disaster, the sky’s about to open, and there isn’t a room to be had anywhere in town.
Mysterious and handsome Callum Doyle emerges from the darkness and offers her a bed for the night. But the oh-so-hot tour boat captain, carpenter, and chef may have an agenda of his own. He’s determined to keep his promise to Eva’s uncle, no matter the cost.
Fighting her attraction to the man is impossible, but when she learns the truth, will it drive Eva into his arms or make her run away again?

It’s A Match

Marissa Kimble had everything she’d ever wanted—a promising career as an electrician and Zak Mitchum, the man she adored, had just proposed. What more could she possibly want?
But fate is a cruel mistress. Everything went wrong when she walked in on Zak and Karen in a hot tub. It was hard to mistake what was happening for anything but what it was. With her trust destroyed, her heart broken, and her pride in shreds, Marissa escaped from Cedar Lake, leaving everything behind, searching for a place to lick her wounds.
Discovering her sister was marrying into royalty and wanted her to be the Maid of Honor was both exciting and terrifying. Not only was she a first-class klutz without any experience in the world of the rich and famous, but her sister also conveniently forgot to mention that Zak would be there, as well as Karen and a few others who’d made growing up in Cedar Lake miserable. As hard as Marissa’s tried, she can’t forgive or forget either of them. Zak is determined that she hears his side of the story, but will she listen?
To further complicate matters, Ken, Karen’s brother, is determined to get her to see him as more than an old tormentor. Will she succumb to his temptation, or will she forgive Zak and give them another chance? Love is often more complicated the second time around.

Noelle’s Gambit

The Hollygrove Inn on the outskirts of Oakville, Vermont, has always been Noelle’s home, but lately, things haven’t gone well. When Clarington Resorts makes her uncle a generous offer, he accepts, but the offer requires them to move out of the inn before Christmas, canceling the annual Christmas Extravaganza, something he failed to mention to Noelle.
Determined not to let that happen, Noelle comes up with a plan she hopes will delay the demolition and shows up at a town council meeting with a significant number of supporters. With goodwill essential to the company’s success in the area, they offer to send someone to discuss the matter and try to come to an arrangement.
It’s up to Noelle to convince the company’s man to let them have this one last Christmas Extravaganza at the inn. But things are not what they seem. There’s something familiar about Jim Hatcher. When she discovers the truth about him, will she forgive him, especially when it looks as if her gambit has failed?

Love at the Pickleback

Andressa Myers is determined to live life on her own terms. Being an heiress to a multibillion dollar fortune is one thing, but having to marry one of the men her father considers the best bulls for his littlest heifer is another. She wants to be loved for herself, not Daddy’s billions. After suffering through a disastrous twenty-fifth birthday party where she meets four out of the five men her father has selected for her, she’s more determined than ever to find a husband on her own. Convincing her father to let her travel for a year is no small feat, but with her half-sisters help and a good old-fashioned hissy fit, she manages it.
But Andie has no desire to travel. She wants to experience real life, and LA seems to be the perfect place to do it. All she needs is a job. After a few cosmetic alterations to her appearance, and a slight change to her name, Andie Harper gets hired as a bartender at an LA Comedy Club. With time running out and her search for Mr. Right seeming to have fizzled, she has to make a choice: go home and give up on love or beg Daddy to give her more time.
Things go from bad to worse when she learns the club’s been sold to Rayburn Enterprises. The fifth suitor who failed to attend her party is none other than Cole Rayburn, the company’s new CEO, a man every bit as elusive as the legendary Howard Hughes.
Fearing discovery, Andie’s concerns fade away when she recognizes the bar’s new manager. L J Simons, the man who worked as a waiter at her birthday party, is kind, considerate, movie-star gorgeous, but doesn’t recognize her. Sleeping with the boss is never a good idea, but she soon finds herself head over heels in love. Their relationship sizzles, and she’s certain that this is the man she’ll marry until, on the night of the club’s grand reopening, a woman with a mouth the size of Texas recognizes her.
Will discovering her true identity destroy her relationship with LJ? But not all the secrets are revealed, and when that happens, will Andie stay or run away?

From Paris with Love

When Paris Galanis’s short story, Captive Hearts, written under a pseudonym, wins a writing contest, the hair salon owner is both elated and terrified. While all she’d expected was feedback on her entry, what should be a dream come true becomes a nightmare.
The publisher’s decision to serialize her novella on their new E-Zine website sends her into panic mode. The last thing she wants is for the people of Timberton to read her story and recognize themselves, especially the town’s most popular bachelor.
While all the single ladies in town view Russ Templeton, the owner of Hunter’s Haven, the town’s only bar and grill, as a ruggedly, handsome, dream catch, Paris sees him as an obnoxious, self-centered jerk with commitment issues that date back to high school when he nicknamed her PG, the Greek geek girl. But Russ has changed. When he asks her to help him co-chair the town’s Canada Day celebration, she agrees. Discovering a tiny kittens leads to a steamy kiss, but his reaction hurts her more than she thought it could. An unexpected date to a wedding, changes everything, until she discovers that once again, he’s used her, but it’s too late, he’s wormed his way into her heart.
When the first chapter of her novella appears, everyone in town is more than a little curious about the local author who writes with such passion, and they’re eager to discover the person behind the pseudonym. With the town busybodies determined to learn the truth and Russ encouraging them, keeping her secret will be harder than ever. Opposites attract, and when they connect, anything can happen, even love.

Naughty Rudolph

Mara Howard hates the cold and everything that goes with a traditional winter in Canada. When she wins a Christmas vacation to Miami, it seems too good to be true. Will this be the holiday she wants, or the holiday she needs?

For the past five years, she’s dedicated her days to mothering the sweet five-year-olds who cross the threshold into her classroom every day and her evenings to Doug Austin, the down-to-earth electrician she intended to marry. But those plans went up in flames when Doug accepted a job in the Yukon, the last place someone who abhors winter, cold, and snow as much as she does would ever consider living.

Rudy Sandcastle returned to his hometown after his wife’s death. Now, the screenwriter lives with his aunt and helps her with her small inn while she assists him in raising his precocious five-year-old daughter, Callie, a child on the hunt for a new mommy. Sadly, unless things improve, the town and the inn’s days are numbered. He needs to find a way to bring tourists to the area this Christmas season, and a contest offering a free vacation may be his chance to do just that. Who wouldn’t want to star in an online travelogue?

Determined not to spend the Christmas holidays bemoaning her fate, Mara gets online looking for an affordable vacation. What could be better than spending Christmas with sun, sand, and sea for company? An online contest for an all-expense-paid Christmas vacation in Miami is exactly what she needs to kickstart a new plan.

But when things are too good to be true, they usually are. It was all in the fine print, but who bothers to read that? A name is just a name, or is it? This Christmas vacation promises to be one she’ll never forget.

Let your spirits be lighter and hope for the best. Spring is coming.

Tuesday Tales: From the Word HEART

Welcome to the last post of February 2026. This record-breaking winter still has us in its grasp. I can appreciate Mother Nature’s hot flashes, but maybe it’s time to turn down the A/C and give us a little heat! Today’s Tuesday Tales word prompt is HEART. I’m continuing with The Case of the Missing Prince and giving you insight into one of the things that gave me the idea for this story. Enjoy.

My eyebrows climbed my brow. Crushed leg injuries happened when a leg was subjected to heavy, prolonged compression—in his case, the weight of the earth and rocks. Severe complications and the possibility of secondary infection which could lead to amputation or death. If he was still walking on that leg, limping or not, he was damn lucky.

“Petrov mentioned that you’d needed surgery. He didn’t get into specifics.”

“Yes, once they managed to get me to the hospital, they reduced the swelling, opened my leg and with the help of rods, pins, screws, and an artificial knee, put it back together. Quite impressive or so I’ve been told. Until they were sure it would heal properly, the possibility of amputation was on the table, but as my mother used to say, I’m tougher than I look, with the heart of angel and the courage of a lion. Unfortunately, the leg is shorter than the other and the limp is permanent, but when I saw the doctor this morning, she pronounced me fit for duty. I can get a note if you need one.”

He was baiting me, and I wasn’t about to fall for it. I was in charge here, not him.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll take your word for it.” I had no intention of seeing this interview turn into a shouting match across the room. “Please sit so we can get started.”

He walked over to the chair in front of the desk and sat. He glared up at Al still standing behind me like some kind of avenging angel.

“I take it he’s coming with us?” He did nothing to minimize the look of displeasure on his face. “I see no need to include others on our search.”

“He is,” I barked the words, annoyed by the man’s lack of savoir faire. He had no right to tell me who could or could not work this case. “Al Binette is my most trusted employee.”

“And yet, his name isn’t on your company’s employee roster. Why is that? You aren’t the only one who researches those with whom he must work,” he challenged, reminding me of his parting shot on Monday.

“I realize working with people you don’t know may not appeal, but remember that works both ways.”

Before I could respond, Al placed one hand on the top of my chair, indicating that he would deal with the man himself. Why not? If this was a pissing contest, I wanted no part of it.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Tuesday Tales: From the Word KISS

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales, the blog post that allows a select group of authors to share their works in progress with you. Since Saturday was Valentine’s Day, this week’s word prompt, KISS, is most appropriate. Enjoy?

Two hours later, Al and I had finished the working lunch Hallie had picked up for us at Coffee Clutch. We’d gotten a little frisky after we’d eaten … nothing over the top, but we’d kissed and cuddled while we’d discussed the case. I’d never realized how helpful it was to have someone I could trust with me when I had issues, and believe you-me, I had issues. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe what the men had told us, it was just that I should’ve been told all of that up front, and the fact that I hadn’t been pissed me off.

While Anton hadn’t revealed anything particularly surprising, other than the fact that he’d spent two days in his room with the runs—if that was true—the information from Zandro had been disturbing to say the least. Why hadn’t Viktor mentioned Andreea Popa when I’d asked him if anyone had known that Leo was the prince? He’d lied to me, and I wanted to know damn well why. He was the one who’d claimed they’d been followed. It seemed to me that Ms. Popa was as good a candidate for that role as anyone else, and the fact that she and Zandro had engaged in a little pillow talk before her vanishing act and the prince’s certainly was of interest to me.

The intercom on my desk buzzed. I glanced at my watch. It was too early for Petrov; he wasn’t due here until two-thirty, while Viktor was scheduled for four. Perhaps Hallie had discovered something about Andreea. Why hadn’t she just brought it in? Silly me. She was no fool and might’ve guessed what we were doing behind closed doors. The intercom buzzed once more, pulling me out of my head.

I stood, straightened my clothing, walked over to my desk, and depressed the button.

“Yes, Hallie, what’s up?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Ms. Chambers…”

The emergency alarm in my brain went off, and my eyebrows drew together. Something was wrong. The only time Hallie spoke to me that way was when there was a client present. I checked my watch again. I hated being late, but then I would never show up an hour early either. If it wasn’t one of the Zoborans, who else had come to see me? Had Emile sent Nadia over with more information? I looked over at Al and shrugged. I would know soon enough.

“What’s the problem, Hallie?”

“I … Baron Bukowski and Mr. Opole are here.”

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Tuesday Tales: From the Word BLEAK

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales, the blog that lets you look at the work in process of the authors involved in it. It is still bitterly cold where I am, -20 C, -28C with the wind or -4F and -18F for my readers in the US. This week, our word prompt is BLEAK, like the weather with 15 cm or 6 inches of snow in the forecast for today. I am so over winter!

I’m continuing with my Cozy Mystery, The Case of the Missing Prince. and I have a surprise for you! That’s right. Here’s the cover.

Al laughed. “You don’t have to cover up on my account. I thoroughly enjoy the view.”

Cheeks burning, I forced myself to drop the sheet.

“Then, you might as well get an eyeful!” Drawing on my bravado, I stood, reached for the coffee mug, and flounced down the hallway to the bathroom, as if I were a runway model in Paris during fashion week, showing off the latest couture design. “Eat your heart out!”

Al’s rumbling laughter followed me down the hallway. “I will, but I’m saving you for dessert after dinner.”

Now, that was something that would keep me going today.

Twenty minutes later, casually dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and half-boots, I entered the kitchen. Al sat at the table, engrossed in something on his laptop. Knowing my breath was now minty-fresh, I bent down and kissed him.

“Good morning.” I inhaled deeply allowing his forest-fresh aftershave to blend with the aroma of coffee, cinnamon, and maple syrup. “It smells fantastic in here.” I glanced at his laptop and noted that he was catching up on the news on the CBC app. “Anything special going on in the world today?” Most of the news was pretty bleak these days, but one had to stay informed.

He shook his head. “Not much. Same old rants and raves, but it appears to be a slow news day.”

“Well, that’s a blessing. Lately, we don’t get many of them. The old saying, ‘no news is good news,’ has never been more accurate.” I sipped from my half-empty mug, the coffee now cooler than I liked. I made a face and set it down. “Did you get a chance to look over the files again? The ones from my interview with Emile, Jacob, Petrov, and Viktor?”

He nodded before standing and going over to the counter, coming back with the carafe and refilling my mug with hot coffee before going back over to the stove. He opened the oven door and took out two plates covered in French toast, complete with the sliced bananas he’d promised, and decorated with powdered sugar that I didn’t even know I had. The can of maple syrup sat in the center of the table.

“I did. Loved the way you referred to Viktor as Mr. Male Chauvinist Pig, MCP for short.”

I shrugged. “He did apologize … sort of, but it didn’t feel sincere.”

“It probably wasn’t.” His gaze met mine and held it. “Is that why you wanted me here? Because you think he won’t follow your leadership?”

I shook my head. “It did cross my mind that he would be difficult, but that isn’t why I wanted you here. I trust you. I don’t trust him. And I missed you. You were coming soon, and I wanted you here sooner,” I admitted.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

IWSG Blog for February, 2026

Here we are in February and I’m certainly seeing the effects of Climate Change in the prologued periods of cold we’ve had this winter, not to mention more snow than ever.

February 4 question – Many writers have written about the experience of rereading their work years later. Have you reread any of your early works? What was that experience like for you?

Rereading early works, especially things I wrote before I decided to try to be a published author showed me how very little I knew about writing, despite the fact that I’d been teaching high school English for years. While the storyline wasn’t bad, the head-hopping and other writing errors were shameful. Even the punctuation needed work. Luckily, in my early career, I had some excellent editors who showed me the error of my ways. I’m a much better writer for having written those early stories and so many other books. It seems the more you write, the better you can get–but perfection? That’s another matter.

But, on the same note, since I’ve started to put my books into audio files using the Virtual Voice function, I’ve listened to books I wrote several years ago, surprised that I could be taken in by my own stories the way I have been. I suppose it’s all a matter of taste. I love transporting my readers to other times and places, and if I do it to myself, so much the better.

If you want to see what others think, click the link. Insecure Writer’s Support Group.