Anne K. Albert is my guest this week on the Mystery We Write Blog Tour, Week 10, to share her expertise, an excerpt from her latest book, and some personal information. While Anne is here, my blog will appear on http://blog.marjamcgraw.com. We love comments, so fire away!
FRANK, INCENSE AND MURIEL
by Anne K. Albert
FRANK, INCENSE AND MURIEL is set the week before Christmas when the stress of the holidays is enough to frazzle anyone’s nerves. Tensions increase when a close friend begs Muriel to team up with a sexy private investigator to find a missing woman. Forced to deal with an embezzler, kidnapper, and femme fatale is bad enough, but add Muriel’s zany yet loveable family to the mix and their desire to win the D-DAY (Death Defying Act of the Year) Award, and the situation can only get worse.
FRANK, INCENSE AND MURIEL received a 5-star review and Reviewer Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews. Reviewer Diana Coyle said, “Ms. Albert has a way of telling a story that pulls you in from the very first sentence and holds your attention to the very last line. Her voice is melodic and her writing style is refreshing. This author knows how to entertain readers and keeps them wanting to turn the page to see what happens next. If you’re looking for a story with a little bit of humor, a whole lot of suspense and plenty of insanity, then you’ve found the perfect story.”
Anne K. Albert has taught high school art, sold display advertising for a small town weekly newspaper, and worked for a national brand water company, but now writes full time.
A member of the Romance Writers of America, Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and married to her high school sweetheart for more than a quarter of a century, it’s a given she’d write mystery and romantic suspense.
When not in her home office, she enjoys traveling, visiting friends and family, knitting, crocheting, and of course, reading.
An Excerpt from FRANK, INCENSE, AND MURIEL:
“Why are you here, Frankie?”
“My client wants you to help with the investigation.”
“Who’s your client?”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’d rather not say until after you make up your mind.”
“Ah. Client confidentiality. I get it. So tell me about Rachel.”
“She didn’t show up for work this morning and my client hopes you’ll be able to shed some light on what happened to her.”
“You knew her.”
So did most of the football team, but I kept that to myself. “Forget Rachel. I’m curious why you’d agree to let me–someone you haven’t seen in fifteen years, as well as a complete novice–work on one of your investigations?”
He fixed me with a level stare but before he could reply, the outside door, that led from the kitchen to the backyard, swung open.
“It’s my Aunt Val,” I explained. “We’re supposed to go to the mall after we drop off her dog at–”
Loud, frantic yowls drowned out the remainder of my sentence. The massive, furry creature galloped toward us. Long legs a blur, its claws scraped the ceramic tile like fingernails on a blackboard. Thick blobs of drool splattered in all directions. I braced myself for the inevitable gooey assault, but the animal bypassed me completely.
Frankie bolted to his feet. “What the–?”
The dog pinned him against the kitchen counter. Prancing on hind legs with uncontrollable delight, it plastered his snout against Frankie’s crotch. A damp spot spread out from the zipper of his trousers and slowly stretched across his groin.
Oblivious to the confrontation between man and beast, my aunt ambled inside the kitchen, and handed me a round cookie tin. A rosy-cheeked Santa smiled up at me.
I gave the tin a gentle shake and asked, “Day two?”
The dog made yelping sounds. At least I think it was the dog. It was hard to tell with his muzzle embedded beneath Frankie’s thighs.
“You bet,” Val said, referring to her gift. “I made a dozen mincemeat tarts. Each decorated with two of the cutest little ceramic turtledoves you’ve ever seen.” She shrugged off her coat and gloves, and then spun in a circle as she patted her hair. “What do you think?”
I wasn’t certain if neon red curls coated with multiple layers of hairspray until each strand glistened like polished brass suited a short, plump Caucasian woman nearing her sixty-fifth birthday, but I decided to throw caution to the wind. “I like it.”
“Me, too.” With that, she turned her attention to Frankie. “He doesn’t bite, you know.”
“That’s reassuring.” Placing his hand between his fly and the calico-colored dog, he nudged the animal away. It refused to take the hint, and wedged its nose deeper. The yelping sounds continued.
Yeah. It was the dog. I was sure of it now.
I watched the process repeated three more times. Nudge, nudge. Sniff. Sniff. Yelp. The damp spot on Frankie’s slacks now stretched all the way to his knees. A thick layer of mucous coated his hands. I might have laughed out loud, but I’d been on the receiving end of that goop more times than I cared to recall.
Val strolled over to Frankie. “Hey, Big Boy.”
He grinned. I rolled my eyes.
“That’s the name of the dog,” I told him.
Buy Links: Amazon, http://www.amazon.com/Frank-Incense-and-Muriel-ebook/dp/B004CLYDRO/ Barnes and Noble, http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Frank-Incense-and-Muriel/Anne-K-Albert/e/2940011142123/ Smashwords, http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/30192 or from Vanilla Heart Publishing. http://www.vanillaheartbooksandauthors.com