“Summerset,” Book 4 in the Harbor Secret Series, set in Northern Michigan’s very own Harbor Springs, is now available in audiobook format! Now you can listen as you drive, exercise, paint, clean, or do yard work! This is historical fiction and romance based on the true, unsolved murder of the Robison family in Good Hart.
All four books, “The Tunnels,” “Devil’s Elbow,” “Leviathan,” and “Summerset” are all available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook formats. All are based on true pieces of Harbor Springs’ history and can be found on Amazon.
Good morning! As you may have heard, the initial drafts of Summerset, Book 4 in the Harbor Secret Series, have been completed. I hope to have the book available for purchase in the next couple of weeks! Below, I’ve included Chapter 1 from the new book for your reading enjoyment. I’m excited to join Kylie, Jason, and Cupcake on another adventure!
CHAPTER 1
Kylie Branson sat at the desk in her cupcake shop, licking the frosting of a cupcake from her fingers. The Harbor Light newspaper lay spread on the desk in front of her. Her eyes moved from the left page to the right and then focused in on a photo of a family from the 1960s. She saw a mother, father, three boys, and a little girl who sat in the front and center of the group. Kylie leaned forward and studied the black-and-white photo before reading the title of the article. “Fiftieth Anniversary of the Robison Family Murders.” She skimmed parts of the article, mumbling to herself. “Entire family brutally murdered…bodies not discovered for weeks…unsolved mystery for fifty years.”
As she drew in a little gasp, Kylie’s hand moved over her mouth before her eyes moved up to the photo of the family again. She ran her fingertip lightly over the image of the little girl. “I’ll bet you were the apple of everyone’s eye.” Kylie looked at the boys and then the pretty mother. “You probably kept trying until you got your little girl,” she whispered as she studied the photo of the doomed family. Finally, Kylie leaned back, crossed her arms, and began to read the article. She was only a few lines in when the bell on the front door jingled. She looked up to see a pretty, blonde woman in her fifties enter and look around thoughtfully.
Tossing the cupcake wrapper in the garbage, she gave the large, black pit-mix dog lying on the floor a quick pat on the head. “You stay here, Cuppie.” Cupcake lifted her head. “Stay and be good,” Kylie repeated the command. Cupcake let out a groan and dropped her head back onto her paws. Kylie stepped over the baby gate that barricaded the office from the rest of the shop. “Good girl,” she whispered to the dog before stepping away.
“Good morning,” she greeted the woman cheerfully.
“Hi,” the woman said lightly, her eyes landing on Kylie and taking her in.
“Can I get you something?” Kylie asked.
The woman looked Kylie up and down, studying the owner of the only cupcake shop in Harbor Springs. “Huh?” she asked distractedly.
An uncomfortable, intuitive twinge pinched Kylie’s stomach. “Can I get you something? A cupcake?”
“Oh,” the woman said, moving her gaze from Kylie to the display case. “You make cupcakes?” she asked in a voice that hinted of a French accent.
Kylie’s eyes moved to the side and then back before answering slowly. “Yes. It’s a cupcake shop.”
The woman looked around again as if just realizing that fact. “Oh. Um, yes, I guess.”
Kylie watched from behind the display as the thin, blonde woman with a high ponytail appeared almost confused. Kylie decided to help her out. “Do you have any particular flavor in mind?”
The woman’s eyes read the flavors. “Black Cherry Pecan, Love Spell, Harbor Hummer?”
“That one is flavored like that ice cream drink called a Hummer,” Kylie volunteered proudly. “It’s my boyfriend’s favorite.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
Kylie held up her left hand. “Fiancé, actually.”
The woman leaned to look at the square-cut diamond. “Wow, that’s quite a ring.”
“He’s quite a guy.”
The woman looked at her again. “I’m sure.”
Kylie felt the odd twinge of her intuition again and cleared her throat. “So what can I get you?”
The woman didn’t look away from Kylie but said, “Oh, I don’t know. How about just a chocolate one?” She gestured with her hand to indicate that she really didn’t care about the flavor as long as she got a cupcake.
“Er, we don’t have plain chocolate.”
“No chocolate?”
“I like people to expect the unexpected. You can get plain chocolate at the grocery store,” Kylie repeated her mantra that was also a bit of a mission statement.
“I suppose so,” the woman said, still looking at Kylie. “You’re very pretty, you know.”
Kylie placed her hand on her abdomen to cover the nagging feeling that grew stronger each time she felt it. “Thank you.”
Finally breaking her gaze as well as the awkward moment, the woman said dismissively, “Oh, just give me that Hummer cupcake that your fiancé likes.”
The woman pushed some loose strands from her ponytail behind an ear, and Kylie hesitated for a moment studying her. “Do I know you?”
A faint smile darted across the woman’s mouth but quickly disappeared. “If you have to ask, then probably not.”
“Yeah, probably not,” Kylie said, dismissing the idea and leaning to remove the cupcake from the display case. “Do you need a box?”
The woman seemed confused almost to the point of being disoriented as her eyes looked around the shop for help before answering the simple question. “For what?”
“For the cupcake.” She held the delicacy up as if to remind the customer.
“Oh, no. I’ll just eat it on the way.” She dug into her purse and produced some dollar bills, laying them on the counter.
“Exact change. I love it,” Kylie said cheerfully. “Have a great day!”
The woman took the cupcake and stepped towards the door. Pulling the screen door open, she turned back and said, “I really like your shop. It’s,” she thought for a moment, searching for the right word, “quaint.” She flashed a weak smile that triggered a childhood memory for Kylie.
“Are you sure we haven’t met?”
The woman just widened her dimpled smile and drifted out the door.
Kylie tapped her index finger on her chin thoughtfully. “Where have I seen you before? Hmm.” She slid the display case door closed and returned to the open newspaper in her office. Cupcake lifted her head in greeting, and Kylie gave it a pat. “Good girl, Cuppie.”
Kylie sat down at her desk and refocused on the photo of the ill-fated family in the newspaper. Her eyes focused in on the woman in the classic suit who stared back at Kylie with sad eyes. Kylie’s gaze went from the woman in the newspaper and back to the closed screen door before the realization hit her, and she asked out loud, “Mom?”
Jumping up from the office chair, she leaped over the baby gate, ran around the display case, and out the front door of the gingerbread house that served as her shop in downtown Harbor Springs, Michigan. Running to the end of the whimsically-curved pathway, she looked up and down the street before softly calling, “Mommy?” A few summer tourists passing by slowed their walk to look at her as she looked frantically up and down the short block.
Feeling beads of sweat on her chest, she turned right and ran down to Main Street where a few early-morning dog-walkers and joggers made their way up and down the street of shops that had kept their original style from the previous century. Kylie looked both directions before resting her eyes on the cold, blue water at the end of the street and then Petoskey on the other side of the bay. “Mommy,” she whispered.
Kylie stood there, staring at the sparkling water of the bay for moments until she felt two hands on her waist followed by a whiskery kiss on her cheek. “Good morning, Sunshine. Is today the day?” He asked the question daily that Kylie had been avoiding answering.
Kylie continued to stare ahead while giving her head a small shake, indicating her answer to his question.
The man behind her snuggled his face into her neck for a moment before realizing something was wrong. Pulling back, he stepped to her side and turned her to him. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” When Kylie didn’t respond, he continued. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Kylie moved her eyes up the strong, uniform-covered chest, onto the stubbly cheeks, and then to the brown eyes of her fiancé, local fire chief Jason Lange. “Jason, I think I just saw my mother.”
Today, December 17, 2020, through Sunday, December 20, 2020, I’m giving away a free download of Nine Days In Greece. Merry early Christmas!
When a workaholic attorney travels to Greece for vacation, she meets a handsome, much-younger man on the plane to Crete. When he shows interest and she feels a spark, she wonders if he could ever be more than a vacation fling.
Today marks two years since I left everything I knew that worked and took a jump, trying to attain something better. Fortunately, it worked. Looking back, I remember that last day in my Michigan home well.
Two years ago today, I was awake around 4 a.m., hoping to get on the road by 7 a.m. Why such an early rise? Because I had to finish a deposition transcript for the job I’d taken the day before. Work, work, work, that was my life in Michigan. That was all I’d known for 28 years and, well, it “worked.” Plus, if I wanted to get ahead, I had to work a little harder than everyone else, right?
I was exhausted and overwhelmed as I sat in my second-floor office finishing the transcript for an attorney who had no idea that I’d worked the better part of the night to get his transcript to him. I remember the warm, comforting glow of lights in the large, 1922 English manor as well as the scent of a pumpkin-spice candle that wafted up the stairs from my large kitchen. By 7:00 a.m., I knew that my friend who was making the trip with me to the New World of California had arrived, helped herself to some coffee, and was patiently waiting for me to e-mail out my transcript before beginning the drive. Since I was always overwhelmed and juggling multiple jobs and projects at one time, I marveled at her patience, but the juggler didn’t have time to tell her that.
Shortly after seven a.m., I finished my transcript, prepared the bill for it, scanned the exhibits, and e-mailed it to the attorney who was probably still snuggled in bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in his head.
Next up was to pack my clothes. No, I hadn’t yet packed to move to the other side of the country because I was busy working…and preparing my house to be left in top condition to be shown by a realtor…and figuring out how to hook a 5×8 trailer up to my little SUV…and figuring out how to cram everything I’d need for a few months (until my house sold) into that little trailer…and running a court reporting business…and operating a videoconference room…and filling cookie orders…and selling things I no longer needed online…and caring for my dogs…and finding time to exercise…and shoveling my driveway and sidewalks sometimes five times a day. So don’t judge me for not having time to pack any clothes for my new life. Every minute of my day was accounted for and had been for the last 28 years.
I’m so thankful for my friend who didn’t complain about me wasting her time as she patiently sipped coffee and waited for me to finish the transcript. I’m so thankful she walked up to the chilly third floor and helped me pack my clothes. I’m so thankful that she helped me squeeze everything into the little SUV and trailer. I’m so thankful she was there for me, period.
Next, I stepped into the dark morning to walk my dogs in Michigan for the final time. It was pitch black, bitterly cold, and icy. The walk was short. As we crossed the street of sheer ice, Nestle slipped and fell on the ice, his four legs splaying out and rendering him helpless. Wearing my Yak Tracks for traction, I walked back and lifted him, hoping to Heaven he had not torn any muscles or seriously injured himself. Nestle dug his nails into the ice and carefully followed me across the street with Daisy by his side.
Returning to the house, I gave it a once-over, making sure the door was closed to the third floor that I chose to leave unheated while I was gone. I walked through the bedrooms, the office that I’d spent most of the last 15 years in, the massive living room, the sunroom where I’d written seven books, and the kitchen that I’d designed and spent so much time in preparing food from my garden, filling orders for my cookie business, and baking myself into oblivion as Hallmark movies played on the large-screen TV. Turning, I checked the thermostat to be sure it was set at 60 degrees – a temperature that would keep the pipes from freezing and the 1922 plaster from cracking. I prayed a silent prayer that the power wouldn’t go out. Finally, I stepped into the kitchen that I so loved one last time and blew out the pumpkin-spice candle that glowed on my new stove. This was it. It was never a good idea to stay too long at the fair.
After I locked the back breezeway door and then closed the garage door, my friend and I loaded my two senior dogs into my car, hooked up the 5×8 trailer that contained the bare essentials I would need to get by in the New World until my house sold, and slowly pulled onto the road of ice and away from everything I knew that worked in my life.
Today marks two years since that last day living in Michigan. I would have written an entry at the one-year mark but, as many of you know, I was laying in a hospital exactly one year later and fighting for my life. So here we are at two years, and, at this time of year when we need to remember what we are thankful for, I can’t help but look back and reflect.
The last two years have been a roller coaster of ups and downs. My life has changed so much and, thankfully, for the better. Don’t think there haven’t been tough times, because I’ve definitely had my share of them. For instance, it took me 1.5 years to sell my house. My heart was completely demolished by the loss of my beloved dogs to the point that I don’t know if I’ll ever recover, and then there’s the whole fighting for my life in the hospital thing. I have faced difficult criticism and found and lost friends. Injuries abound, and some days I struggle not to quit everything and move back to Michigan and crawl into a hole with a bottle of wine.
Fortunately, with the bad comes the good. Maybe not in the hard blows that the bad comes in, but good did come, so I’m going to try to focus on that. For instance, I’ve found I like things that I never thought I would, and I’ve found that the thought of going backwards in life is something that really bothers me.
As I hiked nearly 14 miles on Thanksgiving yesterday, a distance that I now consider comfortable, I remembered how very different my Thanksgivings were in Michigan. I remembered how the women would be in the kitchen doing the “women’s work” while the men sat in the living room watching football and talking about how many deer they’d killed. Remembering that as I climbed over rocks and up a mountain yesterday, I looked at the blue sky above me, gulped in a breath of fresh air, and was deeply thankful for how my holiday had changed.
Other things I’m thankful for would be my friends, both new and old. I’m thankful I can go running at 5:30 a.m. and not worry about ice. I’m thankful for my screenplay award. I’m thankful for the articles I’ve had published this year. I’m thankful for my health and doctors.
I’m thankful for my favorite whales, Twitch and Flicka. I’m thankful I’ve seen Patches, the leucistic dolphin. I’m thankful for my skills as a naturalist, and I’m thankful for the opportunities to share my passion with others.
Instead of working seven days a week, I work five days a week (less if there’s a county holiday), and my schedule now revolves around my free-time activities instead of my work schedule. I’m thankful that my free-time activities are pretty much all outdoors in California versus the baking and writing indoors that I did in Michigan.
I’ve always loved old houses because they have a story behind them; but, for the first time in my adult life, I’m not living in an old house. Everything is brand-new and high-end. I’ve never had that before and, I’ve got to say, not only am I thankful for it, but I’m totally digging it.
Being in a place that I actually chose to live in and doing the things that I want to do, when I want to do them, has been a complete turnaround from the life I once knew. I now realize that all the baking I did in Michigan was just a way to take out my frustrations because I was too afraid to take the jump I needed to take to get to the life I wanted.
So, looking back on the past two years, wow, what a roller coaster ride! Ups and downs for sure, but, no matter what the ride, I’m so much happier than I was in Michigan, where I’d lived a life that someone else had chosen for me.
In his book Jump, Steve Harvey says, “God would not have put the dream in your heart if he didn’t mean for you to achieve it.” It took a long time for me to have the confidence to follow the dream in my heart, but I’m so thankful I did! My work life is better, and my social life is MUCH better. For someone who, in high school, never thought she would amount to more than a housewife, my life has turned out nothing like I’d expected it to…it’s much more exciting than I ever could have imagined in high school.
I’m attaching the link to Steve Harvey’s kinda famous Jump video in case you’re looking for a little encouragement or inspiration, and I would highly recommend his book Jump. It’s available in hard copy and audiobook formats. May you all have the courage to listen to your heart and jump this Thanksgiving.
The holidays are upon us, and what better time to read a holiday story? In The Other Christmas List, a grandmother struggling to connect with her grandson tells him the story about how finding her childhood Christmas list led her from a Christmas tragedy to an old city in Europe and rediscovering the magic of Christmas. Available on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082ZBX162