DOING TIME - NO, NOT THAT KIND

Oops, on Monday, August 6th, I have to be in three places.Which is why I'm late here.  I'm at Sky Purrington's gorgeous blog, A Writer's Mind http://skypuringtonwrites.blogspot.com/ and at the Keller-Fort Worth Writers As We Were Saying at http://kfwwriters.blogspot.com/ Please stop by if you have a chance. And on Tuesday, August 7th, I'll be at Rachel Brimble's blog in England. http://rachelbrimble.blogspot.com/ You can see I'm doing my time traveling via the internet.

WE HAVE A WINNER! The winner of Cindy Nord's NO GREATER GLORY is Kathleen. Cindy will be contacting you, Kathleen. Congratulations!

 Now to today's blog from me.


Thanks for stopping so I can remind you about my Heather Cameron cozy mystery series, DIGGING FOR DEATH.  This book is available in print and Kindle e-book. I love feel-good books, and DIGGING FOR DEATH fits that definition. Sure, someone dies, but he's the meanest man in town and it's off scene so the reader isn't exposed to the gore. So, pour yourself a worthy beverage (alas, mine is hot tea) and join me while I tell you about Heather and her family.

Heather’s great-great grandparents helped found the town of Gamble Grove north of Dallas on Highway 75. Gamble Grove is only a real town in my imagination. It’s near where Van Alstyne or Anna are on the map. My dad was born nearby at Pilot Grove and my own maternal great grandparents were named Gamble, hence the name. Like real towns in the area, Gamble Grove is rapidly growing and fighting to retain its small town charm as it copes with expansion. Local businesses struggle to compete with the big box chain stores.

Heather’s grandfather founded Gillentine Gardens and Landscape Design. In spite of the usual big box type stores that come with growth, customers are loyal to Gillentine Gardens. Heather, who majored in horticulture and landscape design at Texas A&M University, also holds a B.S. in business. She is a sharp young woman. The death of her parents when she was eight resulted in her being raised by her maternal grandparents and great grandmother. One of her companions what Walter Sims, who had been a good friend of her dad’s and worked for her grandfather. Now Grandpa Gillentine has retired and put Heather in charge of the business.

Here’s the blurb:

Garden center manager Heather Cameron is DIGGING FOR DEATH to prove her old family friend and employee, Walter Sims, is innocent of murdering the meanest man in town. Heather can’t trust the police to find the real killer when all clues point to poor Walter. The dead man was beaten to death with Walter’s shovel several hours after they were overheard arguing, and the two men had a long history of enmity. Walter definitely looks guilty, but Heather is sure—well, almost positive—okay, she certainly hopes her friend and mentor is innocent.

Heather Cameron

  Heather is compelled to scour the fictional North Central Texas town of Gamble Grove to exonerate her old friend. She’s encouraged when the new police detective in town, Kurt Steele, shows interest in helping her look for clues. Or, is Kurt just interested in spending time with Heather?
The deeper Heather digs into the dead man’s life, the more she justifies his ruthless reputation. Walter is indicted, but police begin to suspect the victim’s stepson as murderer. Heather is convinced the stepson couldn’t have murdered anyone either—although it’s clear no love was lost between the two men. The attempted murder of the victim’s real son creates a new twist. A chance observation at dinner after the reading of the murdered man’s will slips the last piece into the crime’s intricate puzzle. Can Heather solve the murder without becoming another victim?

Here’s an excerpt:


Lining the Rockwell’s drive nearest the new garden plot were a fire engine, an ambulance, a van, what was probably an unmarked police car, two black and whites and—dang, wouldn't you know it?—the Gillentine Gardens truck. The muscles in my stomach were like vise grips clenched on my insides as I drove past the other vehicles and parked. Sickly dread overwhelmed me at what I might find.
I wanted to turn my car around and drive home and run up to my bed and pull the covers over my head. No such luxury for me. I climbed out of my car and strode quickly toward the crowd, swallowing down fear’s metallic taste in my mouth.
Container rose bushes destined for Bootsy Rockwell's garden almost filled the garden center’s staked-bed truck. Miguel Diaz sat on the truck’s bed with his feet dangling off the end. Steve Harris sat beside him. Bad vibes shot through me. A uniformed policeman and another man stood talking to Miguel. Miguel looked ashen and ill, but he nodded to me. Steve said nothing, merely hung his head.
"Hello, Heather." Miguel shook his head, despair evident in his sad brown eyes. "It's really bad."
"What's happened?"
The officer turned to me. "You know the whereabouts of Walter Sims?"
"He's supposed to be at the garden center. What's happened?" I repeated my question.
Steve looked up, but said nothing.
Miguel looked as if he were trying to send me some sort of signal. "Heather, it's—“
The man in plainclothes quieted Miguel with a glance as he stepped forward. Good heavens, what a giant. Must be six-four with shoulders broad as our truck. Even a long, tall Texas gal like myself had to look up to meet his gaze.
Whoa. What a gaze it was. Worried and puzzled as I was, I couldn’t fail to notice his eyes were delphinium blue and his dark hair the color of moist peat moss was cut short. He wasn’t GQ handsome, but definitely attractive.

Detective Kurt Steele

"I take it you're Miss Cameron? I'm Detective Kurt Steele and this officer is Sergeant Jack Winston. We need to ask you a few questions."
"Not until I know what's happened. Why are you questioning Mr. Diaz and Mr. Harris?" Darn, stress must have fried my mind. I couldn’t believe I refused a detective.
"Vance Rockwell was murdered early this morning. We want to speak with Walter Sims. No one here seems to know where Mr. Sims is.” He paused. “Do you?"
Rockwell dead and Walter missing? Panic rose with the bile in my throat.
No, please don’t let Walter be the killer.
At that moment, paramedics wheeled a gurney bearing a black body bag past the truck and loaded it into the ambulance. Oh Lord, Rockwell dead from Walter’s shovel? And Walter hated him.
Carole King was in my head, and the earth really did move. Dropping away from my feet, leaving me drifting. The sky tumbled down. Swirling, everything was swirling. Spiraling around me. I thought I might throw up or pass out—or both.
The detective stepped forward and grabbed my arm, anchoring me in the mixed up universe. "Miss Cameron? Maybe you should sit on the truck by Diaz and Harris."
But the sky still tumbled, the earth spiraled around me. I was a kid spinning until I was drunk with dizziness.  Sky flipped places with earth. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
"Yes...Yes, I’d better." With Detective Steele's help, I staggered to the truck. I shrugged off his hand intent on levering myself onto the bed. But I stood there as if in a trance.
The detective hoisted me up onto the truck s if I were a kid. I sat there wondering if I were going to pass out.
I felt Miguel’s hand at my neck. “Your head, put it between your knees.”
I did as he instructed, closing my eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. When I straightened, my head was throbbing but the earth and sky had resumed their correct positions.  Sky above, earth below.
Willing my eyes to focus on the detective, I insisted, "Walter wouldn't bash in anyone's head." I prayed I spoke the truth.
Detective Steele referred to his notes. "It appears he and Mr. Rockwell had a heated argument yesterday about a quarter of five. Mr. Sims stalked to the truck—“he pointed at Steve”—where Harris waited, and peeled off."
Drat Walter, coming here when I’d ordered him to stay at the garden center. "If you consider anyone who argued with Rockwell a suspect, you'll be interviewing half the state." I almost included myself but thought better of it. "Besides, you said Walter left."
Sergeant Winston said, "Maybe he returned."
"Phffft." I peered at Detective Steele. "Sounds like you’re grasping at straws. What kind of detective work is that?"
Steele's clenched jaw displayed a small tic.
Oops, I shouldn’t have said that.
He stood directly in front of me and glared. "We just started the investigation. If we had some cooperation, maybe we could wrap this up in time to buy donuts before we take our lunch break."
Way to go, Heather. Not a good idea to annoy the police.
I took another deep breath. At this rate, I’d soon hyperventilate. “There’s no need for sarcasm. I don't know where Walter is, but I know he wouldn't kill anyone, not even Vance Rockwell."
He raised his eyebrows, making his nice blue eyes more noticeable, darn him. "Not even? What does that mean?"
"Rockwell was not a popular man. I imagine you'll find a long, long list of people with motives, detective. Leave Walter alone." I glanced at Miguel slumped beside me and patted his shoulder. "Leave all my employees alone. None of them would have done such a thing."
Detective Steele poised his pen over his notebook. "Where were you just after midnight, Miss Cameron?"
I thought again about his nice blue eyes, but pushed those thoughts aside because of his nasty question. "In my apartment. Asleep."
He raised one eyebrow.
I shot him a glare. "Alone."
"So, you have no alibi?"
"People who live alone never have an alibi. That doesn't mean they're guilty of anything more serious than drinking juice from the carton."
He pulled out a business card and handed it over. "We'll be in touch. Call me if you hear from Mr. Sims."
"Can Mr. Diaz and Mr. Harris go?"
Detective Steele nodded. Miguel and Steve slid off the truck bed to the ground, and Miguel helped me down. While they walked to the truck's cab, the detective speared me with another no-nonsense glare.
"If you hear from Walter Sims, you'll be doing him a favor if you convince him to call us. We need to talk to him, and the sooner the better."
I turned and walked back to my Jetta. My heartbeat fluttered and my throat threatened to close so I couldn’t breathe. I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to the car, but I climbed in and turned the ignition.

I hope that excerpt tempted you to buy DIGGING FOR DEATH. It’s available from
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Digging-Death-Caroline-Clemmons/dp/1478159421/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1344267587&sr=1-13&keywords=caroline+clemmons

Thanks for stopping by!

SPRING AND A SNEAK PEAK

Has spring arrived in your neighborhood? Right now, we have spring temperatures, but this is Texas. The saying is true, “If you don’t like Texas weather, wait three days.”


Still, I’m hopeful. Perhaps you noticed I’ve put the spring redbud photo back as my header. My friend Celia Yeary said the snow scene made her cold and she requested I put the redbud photo back up so she wouldn't freeze when she visited the blog.

Daffodils are in bloom, and the redbud’s buds are swelling. Unfortunately, the elm and cedar are pollinating. Ahhhhchoo! Cough!

Hero and I watch our bird feeders
and bird houses from our breakfast table

Spring is my favorite time of year. It holds such promise! The blue birds are nesting in our birdhouses. Baby bunnies are appearing. Our grass has greened up (and the weeds) and early flowers are blooming. Dandelions and vetch do count as flowers, right?



Darling Daughter 1 brought me a
starter plant of this wild rose
from her wild rose hedge.



Several rosebuds are on my Earthkind roses. Roses are my favorite flower. All in all, I’m a happy gal all spring.

Farmer's Market = Work!

This year, Hero and I plan a small raised-bed vegetable garden, about four feet by eight feet. A few years ago, we planted several acres of vegetables and melons for us and to sell to the farmer’s market. We don’t want to sell produce now. Yikes, is that ever work! What we want is food for our table. Good, fresh, organic food.

Similar to my blue ribbons

In past years I won blue ribbons at the State Fair of Texas for my canned jams, jellies, and veggies. Okay, only one blue ribbon for green beans, but several for peach jam, grape jelly, cinnamon crabapple jelly, and blackberry jelly. Seeing my jars on display with a blue ribbon was exciting.

My worst experience was the year we had a bumper crop of pomegranates. My sister in Fresno puts the juice in ice trays to use with a sprite or seven up. She also uses it in pumch. Hero and I decided that was a great idea and we'd  extract the juice for jelly and to drink. Bad, bad idea. We had no idea how that juice stains! And it sticks to everything! We cleaned our shoe soles and mopped the kitchen four or five times, but our shoes still made sticky whop whop sounds when we walked. I think my sister only works with a few pomegranates at a time. We went way overboard. 

Better than winning a blue ribbon at the fair is seeing my books for sale. I love writing, and love having people tell me they enjoyed my books. It’s an addiction but there is no Writers Anonymous or 12-Step program. So, I’m hooked on writing. I’m only a week or ten days away from publishing a new western historical romance on Amazon Kindle. Here’s a sneak peak at the cover.

Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s from Jimmy Thomas and Novel Romance Covers. He’s a very popular cover model and I’m sure you recognize him from many book covers. Both independent publishers like me who publish on Amazon Kindle and Smashwords as well as large publishing houses use his work.

Obviously, the book is titled BRAZOS BRIDE and it's the first of the MEN OF STONE MOUNTAIN series. BRAZOS BRIDE is the first of a trilogy of three brothers and is set in 1870 North Central Texas on a ranch beside the Brazos River. Stay tuned for the launch date.

Thanks for stopping by.

MYTH OR FACT? ARMADILLOS CARRY LEPROSY

Several years ago friends moved to Texas from Germany and embraced everything western. They found a dead armadillo beside the road and had him stuffed for their fireplace mantle. When I mentioned that armadillos carry leprosy, our friends pooh-poohed my comments.

When my multi-published author friend, Dee Stuart, wrote her book targeted at elementary aged children, THE ASTONISHING ARMADILLO, she investigated rumors about leprosy to no avail. Her book is excellent, and is found in many school and public libraries. Click on the title to buy the book from Amazon.

Back in the stone age, I worked for a dermatologist in Dallas. I remember the horror facing a successful young businessman when he learned he had advanced leprosy and would be forced to move to the leper colony in Louisiana. Fortunately, since the 1980's, multi-drug therapies eliminated confinement to leper colonies in the United States. Still the disease exists and causes major health problems, especially when caught late. There are over 1,000 leper colonies still operating in India, and other countries with colonies include China, Romania, Nepal, Somalia, Liberia, Vietnam, and Japan. Those who are Jewish or Christian remember mention of leprosy in the Bible. Leprosy has been around for at least four thousand years and is also documented in ancient Chinese texts.

Please don't go out gunnin' for armadillos. I'm sure God put the little critters on earth for a reason. In fact, I'm sure there's a reason for everything, even mice, rats, and fire ants...although I detest those three groups of pests. But I digress. 

Now that gardening season has us out enjoying our flowers and lawns, I wanted to issue a warning. Better safe than sorry! Here's the column regarding armadillos and leprosy from the "Information Central Blog:"

Pesky little armadillo looks very prehistoric

Armadillos Carry Leprosy


by Stephanie Suesan Smith, PhD 

There was a time when a major beer manufacturer ran a series of commercials where a giant armadillo hijacked a truck carrying the beer and then laid on its back cradling the bottle while guzzling the contents. Those commercials spawned a cottage industry in killing and stuffing armadillos, then putting an empty beer bottle in their little paws and selling them as souvenir. A new study in the NEW ENGLAND JOURNAL OF MEDICINE suggests that handling armadillos is a mistake.

Leprosy is a rare disease in the United States. It is caused by a bateria and armadillos are the only creatures besides humans known to carry the bacteria. It doesn’t seem to bother the armadillos, but it will cause major problems for the human who gets it. Usually, the first sign is a skin rash that is often dismissed by both the victim and their doctor as an unspecified allergic reaction to something. If treated aggressively at this stage, however, leprosy, also known as Hansen’s Disease, is curable.

Once the bateria sets up housekeeping in the nervous system, it is a chronic disease causing some pretty terrible symptoms. In medieval times, victims of leprosy were outcasts, herded together in remote colonies to await death as the bacteria ate away at the extremities and face from within. Medication can now control the worst of the symptoms, but it is not something you want to get.

Sadly, up to 15 percent of armidillos are infected in some places, such as Texas, where I live. Worse, since they dig in gardens to reach insects, you run some risk of getting infected from digging in the same spot. How many of us have replaced plants and moved earth back where it belongs after an armadillo attack without thought? Next time, I will use a trowel and wear gloves that can be washed in bleach after use to handle that situation.

It is illegal in Texas to have a live armadillo, or to trap them and let them go on someone else’s land. About all you can do is avoid them. If you are in the country, trapping and shooting them is an option. In town, a pest control person can humanely dispose of them for you. You can put a four foot barrier of welded wire fencing around your flower beds to keep them out, too.

For more help gardening, buy my book, “PREPARING A VEGETABLE GARDEN FROM THE GROUND UP.” Available in print or ebook, this book walks you from choosing the site of your garden all the way through what to do after the harvest. Buy a copy for yourself or a friend today!

Thanks to Stephanie for letting me post her May 10 blog today. Remember, wear those gloves when you're working in the dirt, and don't scratch your skin with them.

Please return on May 18th/19th for and interview with author, Amber Scott. In the meantime, enjoy spring at your place.