Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 7

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 scroll to the bottom of the blog where it says OLDER POSTS.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" MJ glared at me.

"What?"

"You gave this bird to Skye. You can't suddenly up and decide that you're taking the bird away after telling her Kookie belongs to her."

A slow stain crept up my neck. I turned to my friend and said, "Skye, I apologize. MJ's right. What do you want to do?"

Skye gave a long, low sigh. "I'm not sure what to do, but I don't want to own a dead bird, so maybe it's best that we find a way to reunite Kookie and Helen."

Honora had been curiously silent throughout Pete's exam. Now she patted Skye's arm and said, "You're an old soul, Skye. You've made a brave decision."

With that decided, I thanked Pete and asked for a bill. "MJ's already promised to go with me to a concert at the Kravis Center, so you're paid up."

"MJ, can I impose on you for one more favor? Can you handle the store by yourself while Skye and I take a ride? I can't just put the bird in the car and drive over to the assisted living facility."

"Why not?" MJ raised perfectly plucked eyebrows at me. "Even if you have to get turned away and you have to take him back into the car, at least he might start eating again. Isn't that the goal?"

I bit my lower lip. Having a big bird in the store made me nervous, but the thought of having that same bird in my car while I was driving nearly put me over the edge. I wanted to scream, "But I hate birds!" As I dithered, trying to find the right words, another white feather drifted off of Kookie and fell to the tile directly in front of me. What was it Kiki Lowenstein always said? Time to pull up my big girl panties and do what needed to be done. "All right. Fine. Let's do this."

After I pulled Black Beauty, my Camry, around front, Skye walked out with Kookie on her shoulder. Although I shivered as she climbed in and adjusted her seatbelt, what really bothered me was the churning of my tummy as Kookie climbed off of Skye's shoulder and onto the back of the passenger seat.

"Do you know where this place is?" My voice sounded like a frog's croaking.

"I think so." Skye issued directions, and we were off, winding our way over the railroad tracks, turning south on Dixie Highway, and heading toward Hobe Sound.

A few more turns along the way and we pulled up at a sign, "Martin Gardens: Senior Living Facility." The name brought a smirk to my face. "Evidently the owner played a lot of Monopoly as a kid."

Skye didn't get that. Instead, she pointed to our right. "Look."

As I turned my head, my jaw dropped. Plunked down in the middle of a mud puddle was a residential building, a place that reminded me of a school without one spec of landscaping. Not even a stray weed. I'd never seen such a barren spot in all my life.

"Oh, my gosh," said Skye. "That's plug ugly. It's awful! Can you imagine? What if you lived there and your window opened out on...on that? Yard after yard of ugly, dirty mud? How could they do that? Is it even legal?"

I pointed the nose of the Camry toward the sliding glass doors under a green fabric canopy. As we moved closer, a sign became obvious: ENTRANCE.

"Wow. What a totally cheerless, desolate place," I said.

And to that Kookie let out a loud, angry squawk.


~To Be Continued~Okay, kids! Show me some love! If you are liking this serialized short story, go to my Facebook page and hit "Like" the little blue thumb in a tiny white box under the big picture of me. (My toes point to the right. There are three boxes. "Like" is the second box.) Or tell a friend about the Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery Series. Here are the links:  Tear Down and Die  http://tinyurl.com/TearDD and Kicked to the Curb http://tinyurl.com/KickedTTCurb the blog post and click on OLDER POST.

Kiki Lowenstein and Too Much Squash (Short Story Excerpt)

 You can read this whole short story free if you load it on Sept. 27 (Friday) and Sept. 28 (Sat.) by going to http://tinyurl.com/2muchsquash

~

Note: In the timeline of Kiki’s life, this short story comes after Picture, Perfect, Corpse: Book #7 and before Group, Photo, Grave: Book #8.

Chapter 1

A Wednesday in August…

“How’s your mother feeling?” Lottie Feister quizzed my daughter Anya.

I was sitting cross-legged on the other side of the shelving unit so I overheard Lottie’s question. I thought about getting up and answering her myself, but I’d sat down here for a purpose. I was searching for a particular sheet of embellishments. I suppose I could have made my presence known, but I didn’t feel like moving. An hour earlier I’d had a particularly nasty bout of morning sickness. Right now, sitting still suited me—and yes, I was a little curious about Lottie’s interest.

          “Mom’s fine, I guess. She gets pretty sick to her stomach, but she told me that’s normal. In fact, I went with her to the doctor for an appointment, and the physician’s assistant said that morning sickness is a good sign. That it means Mom’s hormones are changing,” said Anya.

          “I hope she can keep working throughout her pregnancy,” said Lottie. “This store is like a second home to most of us.”

          She was referencing Time in a Bottle, the scrapbook and craft store that I was buying. Now I felt glad I’d overheard Lottie’s questions. She probably represented the thinking of most of our patrons. As soon as I could, I would talk to my co-workers. Together we could brainstorm steps to take to reassure our customers. The last thing I wanted was for them to switch loyalties! Not when we’d worked so hard to become their primary source for all their papercrafting needs.

          Bless Lottie’s heart, she was a yenta, which is Yiddish for “busybody,” not “matchmaker” as people have erroneously assumed because of Fiddler on the Roof. Ever since Lottie’s husband died of pancreatic cancer, she’s a lonely woman. The store has become the hub of her social activities—and I understand that. I’ve been there myself. But sometimes Lottie crosses a line. She’s incredibly curious about me and my life, and she’s taken to pumping everyone who works here for more information. Personal information that’s not really any of her business.

          My name is Kiki Lowenstein. I’m a single mom to Anya, who is thirteen-going-on-thirty. My daughter and I are very close, especially since her father George Lowenstein was murdered nearly three years ago. This summer Anya begged me to let her work in the store rather than send her off to summer camp, which she dismissed as being “for babies.” I agreed to the arrangement for many reasons. Most of all, this might be our last chance to have a summer all to ourselves. But when I set down the rules for her “employment,” I forgot to warn her that a few of our customers might try to pump her for details of my private life.

          Clearly an oversight on my part.

          I am, after all, a bit of a curiosity. Even though my sweetheart, Detective Chad Detweiler, wants to marry me, I have declined his offer. I was pregnant with Anya when I married George, and that feeling of shame stained our entire marriage. I expected too little from George because I knew he had married me out of a sense of obligation. Not out of love. When I marry Detweiler—and I plan to do just that—I want to feel confident that he’s marrying me because he wants me as his wife, not because I am his baby mama.

          All that aside, Chandler Detweiler has told me over and over that he wants me. Me. Pregnant. Non-pregnant. Whatever. “There’s only one you in the world, Kiki, and you’re the person I want to spend my life with.”

          You can’t get much more loving than that!

          But then, there’s my growing baby bump. And my rampant hormones. I admit that some days I feel overwhelmed by it all.

          Most of the woman who frequent Time in a Bottle are a bit old-fashioned. They think I am making a mistake by waiting to marry Detweiler. They point out that my baby is his child, and therefore, my little one is entitled to legal protections offered by marriage. They also note that something could go drastically wrong when I give birth. In that case, Detweiler needs the right to step in and make decisions.

Ugh. I know they’re right, but that’s too upsetting to contemplate.

Perhaps their most compelling argument is money. As a St. Louis County law enforcement officer, Detweiler has terrific benefits. I have none. When I think about the expenses associated with having a baby, I wonder if my women friends are right.

But I made a promise to Anya that I wouldn’t marry Detweiler before the baby came. She had a little melt-down when she realized that she’s be the only Lowenstein left in our family because her grandmother, Sheila, is getting married, too.

And I intend to keep my promise to my daughter. I owe her that.

So I’m anticipating the costs of having a baby. I’ve been pinching every penny that comes my way. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve got a smear of copper on my fingertips.

Meanwhile, I need to stand tough while people question my decisions. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t considered the impact of my choices on Anya. It’s just that I didn’t realize how bold people would be in pestering her with questions.

To Read the Whole Story...Click on this link 2MuchSquash

         

Aloha! A Review of PHOTO, SNAP, SHOT by Cindy Chow

Note: Cindy is the first reviewer to notice that Kiki, too, is prejudiced. By the end of Photo, Snap, Shot, she must question her own assumptions about other people


I admit that I completely lack the Martha Stewart gene. My one attempt at a DIY
design project resulted in six - that's six - pieces of my furniture becoming
"'marbelized" in paint. I come by it honestly, though, as ten years of my
childhood photographs reside in shoeboxes at my parents' home, all in their
original Kodak envelopes.

So it takes a lot for me to continue to follow a "crafting" mystery series, as
there's pretty much no chance that I will ever follow the crafting hints and
tips. However, Joanna Campbell Slan's Kiki Lowenstein's Scrap-n-Craft
mysteries is a series that does have the humor, realistic characters, and
complex plots that compel me to read each engaging new entry. The third in this
series, Photo, Snap, Shot(Midnight Ink) continues this excellence and never
disappoints.

Thanks to financial support from her late husband's mother, Kiki Lowenstein's
daughter Anya attends the elitist prep school Charles and Anne Lindbergh Academy
(CALA). It's the last place one would expect violence to occur, so when Anya
discovers the body of her teacher there Kiki goes into full panic mode. The
school is eager to cover up any hint of impropriety or scandal, so it's no huge
surprise that the woman's African American boyfriend, the basketball coach, is
immediately implicated and arrested.


After being warned repeatedly from interfering in previous murders, Kiki's more
than a little surprised when Detective Chad Detweiler actually asks for her help
in clearing the coach, who happened to have been a Little Brother Detweiller
mentored and believes is a convenient scapegoat.

This places Kiki in an emotionally precarious position, as Detweiler is the
married man she dreams about while two perfectly acceptable other men, one of
whom is the man she SHOULD want to love, stand at the sideline. As they say
though, the heart wants what the heart wants. However, any rash actions she may
contemplate are definitely curtailed by her watchful mother-in-law and friends.

As Kiki ventures in the rarefied world of the CALA elite, she discovers that the
headmaster's wife and four CALA mothers all had past ties that unite them in
hiding past secrets. The murdered teacher herself also had a cloudy past
despite her recent path to redemption.


What surprised me so much in this novel was how the chip on Kiki's shoulder that
resulted from her insecurities and feelings as an outsider prejudiced her
against all of the mother's of CALA. Slowly, as Kiki questions and begins to
know more about each woman she understands that each woman is far more complex
than she realized in her initial snap judgments. The author fleshes out each
woman realistically and empathetically in a way that enables the reader to
understand the sacrifices they've made and how they've become who they are..

Rather tortuously, but realistically, Slan concludes Photo Snap Shot with a
cliffhanger that leaves some questions unanswered and definitely has the reader
wanting more. The next Kiki Lowenstein mystery can't come soon enough. I love
Kiki, a character who has grown stronger in will and character as the series has
progressed while never losing her sense of humor.


Aloha,

Cindy Chow
Kaneohe Public Library

"A Crop to Die For"

Looking for a fun and different idea for your crop group? Why not hold a dinner mystery theatre event? I've written a play you can put on with only six actors and very few props. It makes a great "frame" for a crop. The cost is only $30, which makes it perfect for a fundraising event. You can use the script as many times as you want for that one fee.

The script, instructions, a "Whodunnit Form" and a form for ordering books is available at YouPublish Just look through my "library" and you'll see "A Crop to Die For" as one of the offerings.

Go Tell It on the Mountain

You remember this song, right? I'm not trying to be disrespectful to anyone's religion, but I think this song title could well be adapted to our work as promoters of our books.

I think it's my job to tell anyone and everyone who meanders across my path about my books, because you never know when you are going to meet a new (potential) fan.

Let me give you a few examples:

1. I was talking with the account rep at National City Bank about transferring some money from one account to another. She said, "While we're waiting for this to go through, is there anything else I could do for you today?" And I said, "Sure! You could take a look at my new mystery on Amazon." Well, wouldn't you know it, she LOVES mysteries and scrapbooking, and she copied down my book title and told me she'd tell all her friends.

2. We said "Hi" to the nice lady in the villa two doors down from us here on Kiawah Island. She told us she was shocked because none of the renters here usually say hello, and she's a very lonely resident. "I've joined local bookclubs to get to know people," she said. And so I followed up with, "What kind of books do you read?" Then I told her about my book, and later I delivered a customized bookmark. Her daughter was visiting when I dropped off the bookmark, and my neighbor had already told her all about my book.

3. I found out that one of my doctors has a holiday boutique in her office each November. I asked if they would have an opening for me to come sell my books--and they were thrilled.

4. I talked to my sister who's a teacher about how important it is to promote my books. We changed the subject, and then, Meg said, "You know, they have a bookclub at school. I didn't even think about it, but there's no reason they couldn't read YOUR book."

5. I talked to Sonja who exercises right next to me at Jazzercise. She told me there's a book club in her association, and she's getting me the contact information.

6. At a party, I handed one of my business cards (with my cover on it) to Vickie Newton, a local news anchor for KMOV. She's planning to interview me as soon as the book comes out.

You don't have to be obnoxious. You do have to be strategic. And the conversation can't just be about you and your book...

But here's my thinking: I personally LOVE books. I really love knowing authors. And if someone shared information about his or her book with me, I'd be happy to hear the good news. As long as the person was respectful and not pushy. I'm always looking for that next new favorite author.

And I trust that there's a universe of other people who feel the same.