SPECIAL FEATURE!!

EVERYBODY CALLED HER A SAINT
BY

CECIL MURPHEY

Who would want to kill the sainted Twila Belk?. . .Especially since she had footed the bill for an Antarctica cruise with 48 of her “closest friends?”
But when a search team discovers the body of the murdered benefactress on Brown Bluff Island, an unlikely duo joins forces to solve the heinous crime.
Though once engaged, Reverend James Burton and Psychologists Julie West are no longer even on speaking terms. Can their mutual love and admiration for a dear, departed friend allow them to set aside their animosities long enough to bring Twila’s killer to justice?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cecil Murphey is an international speaker and award-winning author who has written, co-written, or ghostwritten 108 published books, including the NY Times bestseller 90 Minutes in Heaven (with Don Piper). Writing Everybody Loved Roger Harden, his first cozy mystery, was great fun for him. For more information about Cecil Murphey, visit his website - http://www.themanbehindthewords.com/

To read more of EVERYBODY CALLED HER A SAINT be sure to subscibe to:
Heartsong Presents: Mysteries!

OTHER HEARTSONG PRESENTS MYSTERIES BY CECIL MURPHEY

EVERYBODY LOVED ROGER HARDEN
Psychologist Julie West and Reverend James Burton arrive late for dinner on Palm Island-but just in time to discover their host, millionaire Roger Harden, murdered. Ten possible suspects share close quarters on the secluded island, all of them with deep secrets and sufficient motive to have wanted the wealthy "benefactor" dead. Can Julie and Burton ignore the mysterious attraction developing between them long enough to discover who among them didn't love Roger Harden enough to let him live?

EVERYBODY WANTED ROOM 623
When psychologist Julie West arrives at Cartledge Inn in response to an urgent call from Stefan Lauber, a supposedly reformed criminal recently released from prison, a near-hysterical desk clerk tells her that Lauber has been murdered in his room-room 623.

Fun Friday

This week, Spyglass Lane is showcasing Where the Truth Lies by Elizabeth Ludwig and Janelle Mowery. For more on the Masschusetts Mayhem series, check out their websites!

Mystery Door

Thursdays are Mystery Door days! Choose a door. A surprise is waiting for you!

MYSTERY AUTHOR IS BACK!!!

WE'RE BACK!!! Today, we're going to meet another Heartsong Mystery Author. Remember the rules: You must indentify the author, leave a comment, AND include your e-mail address so we can contact you. We will draw a winner from all of the correct entries.

Now for today's Mystery Author!

Welcome, Mystery Author! What state are you from originally? What part of the country do you call home now?

I was raised in the great state of Texas. Now I live in the great state of Missouri and loving it.

How many children do you have? Grandchildren?

7 children. 15 grandchildren

Your Heartsong cozy mystery isn’t the first book you’ve written for Barbour. Can you tell us a little about your other book without giving away too many details?

Hmm. It's about a group of ladies who live in Arizona in the nineteenth century. It has a little bit of mystery and a lot of love.

The main character in your Heartsong cozy mystery has just received an inheritance that will change her life. What did she inherit?

A boarding house for senior citizens.

And finally, Mystery Author, what is the first name of your main character?

Victoria

Well, there it is. Kinda tough this time. Let's see if we can fool our expert guessers! WHO is our mystery author?????

Short Story Mystery

Sealed and Delivered by Elizabeth Ludwig

Part 3

Detective Ralph Brady stooped near the fireplace, his sharp gaze scanning the smoldering ash.

Ah, there it was.

He smiled and turned his attention back to the crowd gathered around Lady Manchester and Jeffrey Monroe.

Charles scrutinized the stamp in his hand, adjusted his glasses, and stared some more. Suddenly, his face paled. “He’s right,” he whispered. “It’s a fake.”

“What!” Lady Manchester exclaimed. She grabbed the stamp in question and brought it almost to her nose. “It can’t be!”

A soft roar erupted from the bidders gathered around the room. Calmly, Detective Brady grabbed a fireplace poker and scrapped a bit of paper from the ashes. The remnant secure in his hand, he rose and faced the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention.” The buzz continued. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Lady Manchester, please!” Still no one heard. Drawing a deep breath, he said, “Jeffrey Monroe is under arrest.”

The room fell silent and all eyes swung to him.

“What?” Lady Manchester said.

“What?” Jeffrey repeated.

Confident, now, of their attention, Detective Brady crossed the room to stand before Jeffrey. “What did you intend to do, Mr. Monroe? Forge a new stamp after you’d destroyed the old one?”

Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do,” Detective Brady said. He took the fake stamp from Lady Manchester’s limp fingers and waved it in Jeffrey’s face. “I think you created this clever fake knowing Rochester would be able to discern the difference between this and the original. I also think you intended to profit from the affair by announcing to the world that it was you who discovered Lady Manchester trying to peddle a million dollar counterfeit.”

Tugging at his tie, Jeffery cast a quick glance at Lady Manchester. Daggers shot from her steely gaze.

“I also think,” Detective Brady continued, “that you planned to sell a newly printed forged stamp to a collector. You were banking on the idea that you’d be able to find an unscrupulous buyer regardless of the fact that they’d never be able to show the stamp in public, which is why you went to the fireplace and dropped the real stamp into the flames.”

A loud gasp went up from the onlookers in the room.

“Y-you’ll never be able to prove that,” Jeffrey stammered. “You have no proof.”

Detective Brady held up the partially burned bit of paper, his lips curled into a smile. “I have proof, Mr. Monroe. Right here. All the proof I need."

Stay tuned next week for a brand new Short Story Mystery!

For Discussion: Did you figure out Jeffrey's plan?

Monday Mystery Theater

The Case:

Two men are seated side by side in a commuter train, one dressed in gray and the other in black. The man in gray hands something to the man in black. At the next stop, the man in black pulls out a gun with a silencer, shoots the man in gray dead, and leaves the train.

The Mystery:

What did the man in gray hand to the man in black? Why did the man in black kill the man in gray?

The Clues:

1. The man in black was looking for evidence.

2. The man in gray was European.

The Answer:

Think you know the answer? Fill in the comment box to submit your guess. Winner receives a free Heartsong Presents Mystery!

Special Feature!

THE WILES OF WATERMELON

by
LYNETTE SOWELL

Newlywed Andi Hartley is not at all sure she’s ready to look like an over-ripe melon. . .

.

In fact, she’s still getting used to being married. But her husband, Ben, wants to start a family right away. Gulp.

Their family plans are put on hold, however, when Andi’s kitten runs from the house to their watermelon field and digs up a bone attached to the remains of a thirty-year-old skeleton. Buried secrets come to life. . .and then the colorful owner of Greenburg’s best eatery is murdered. As Andi unearths more and more of the suspicious history surrounding the skeleton, she realizes both deaths are related. Is she also about to unearth a murderer?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

LYNETTE SOWELL works as a medical transcriptionist for a large HMO. But that's her day job. In her "spare" time, she loves to spin adventures for the characters who emerge from story ideas in her head. She hopes to spread the truth of God's love and person while taking readers on an entertaining journey. Lynette is a Massachusetts transplant, who makes her home in central Texas with her husband, two kids by love and marriage (what's a step-kid?), and five cats who have their humans well-trained. She loves to read, travel, spend time with her family, and is a green-thumb-in-training.

.

AND NOW AN EXCERPT FROM . . .

THE WILES OF WATERMELON

Rain pounded the window of our first-floor bedroom. Thunder had woken me at who knows what insane hour in the middle of the night, and all I could do was watch the show until the storm passed. Lightning illuminated the field of watermelons across the driveway. The vines lit up with the flash, and the watermelons among the leaves remained steadfast against the rain. A sudden movement among the vines made me rise up on one elbow in bed. The movement stopped.

Another flash of lightning, and I glimpsed a bulky figure hunched over the vines. So I hadn't been seeing things. Four miles from town, we didn't have neighbors, and our property was flanked by woods on both sides and by the now-swollen Tennessee River to the rear of the property.

"Ben, someone's in our field!" I jumped up and grabbed my robe from its perch on the exercise bike.

"Hold on, sweetie." Ben was on his feet before I could finish sweeping the cobwebs from my mind. "I'llcheck it out. Though I can't say who'd be plunderin' watermelons this time of night."

He moved down the hallway, and I stayed close behind him. My wedding ring still felt new and shiny on my hand. It and the diamond Ben had given me last July slid round and round as my other hand fumbled with my fingers.

Ben stopped and spun to face me. "Andromeda Hartley, get back in bed."

"No way." I took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm at least goin' to look over your shoulder."

"Those kids better not be out there partyin'. No wonder Mrs. Flanders pulled out her shotgun and chased hooligans off her land. Crazy teenagers."

"In a rainstorm. Right. They'll probably be partying somewhere a lot dryer." I didn't like being woken up in the middle of the night, and Ben's logic escaped me.

He didn't reply but tugged me along with him around the corner then released my hand. A flash of lightning in the kitchen windows made me blink. Ben fumbled with the dead bolt on the kitchen door. Once my eyes readjusted to the darkness, I skidded to a stop on the new tile.

Ben flung open the door and dashed from the back steps, across the covered patio, and into the rain. He paused long enough to grab the baseball bat he'd left on the picnic table after softball practice. I followed. My cheeks stung from the pelting drops, and I fought to see into the grays and blacks of the night. Momma would pitch a fit if she knew I'd run into the rain during a lightning storm. It seems once I got married all my common sense went out the window. Ben and I stumbled through the muddy driveway. He stopped and I slid into him. He pulled me close and I leaned against his warmth, and we waited until the lightning flashed again.

Not thirty yards or so away from us, a figure splashed down our driveway toward a darkened car that waited at the edge of the drive. Lightning illuminated the yard but did little to help us see the stranger.The car's rear tires roared against the mud, and the car turned, headlights now on, and sped away on the rainslicked road.

Drenched to the skin, I glanced at Ben. "He sure picked a great time to steal watermelons. Makes no sense. Alone, too."

Under the yard light, Ben shook his head. "Beats me. C'mon, we oughta get back to sleep. Morning comes early. No harm done, anyway. Not worth calling the police over."

"But if it happens again?" I didn't like the idea of someone trespassing on our property. The idea of a silent lurker made me shiver.

We entered the house, arm in arm. I left a stream of water and wet footprints behind me as I got towels from the hallway linen closet. As I backtracked and wiped up the watery mess with an extra towel, I tried to make sense of what we'd seen. I just couldn't dismiss the event quickly, like Ben had. A stranger prowling in the field during a thunderstorm in the middle of the night didn't make sense. Why would someone go to so much trouble to snag watermelons in a storm? And if it was only watermelons, why keep stealing them after Ben and I had moved onto the property?

As Ben and I trudged back to bed, my foggy brain struggled to make sense of what I'd seen. The last thing I remembered before dropping off to sleep was the image of the hunched-over stranger. . .carrying nothing.

To read more of THE WILES OF WATERMELON be sure to subscibe to:

Heartsong Presents: Mysteries!

Other Heartsong Presents Mysteries by LYNETTE SOWELL

A SUSPICION OF STRAWBERRIES: When Charla Rae Thacker and her bridesmaids show up at Andi's soap shop in Greenburg, Tennessee, for a morning of pre-wedding pampering, Andi bends over backwards to make it a pleasant experience for them all. But then Charla keels over and dies from anaphylactic shock after she uses Andi's personally blended cherries jubilee facial scrub. Andi suspects sabotage and murder when she discovers strawberries - a lethal allergen for Charla - in the scrub. Now, Andi must save her business and her reputation.