There are days where I almost cry because I spent all my book money. Here is a book that is going on my wish list and it’s not just because of the title.
- Ivy Morris Mysteries – Hoedown Showdown
With the Tasty Tomato Tournament just days away, the small town of Martha’s Point is all abuzz. This is the first year without a sure winner, and the competition is fierce to gain the judges’ approval, even before the tournament starts.
But when Ivy finds one of those judges dead in a shed across the street, things go from bad to worse. All she wanted was seven glorious, kid-free days of messing around with her husband. Instead, she’s going to be tracking down a killer, staying out of the way of a pickle-obsessed farmer, and dodging the new cop who seems out for her blood.
“Myrt,” I said patiently, as if talking to a small child. “First of all, this wasn’t the tomato crusher. It was Judge McIntyre.”
I didn’t even get to the next part since she started wailing. “Oh, my stars! I’m never going to win the Tasty Tomato Tournament now! It’s the fiftieth anniversary, and I wanted at least one chance before I die! And now I will never win this! I’ll be a dead woman long before I can ever show my face again in the tournament! And this was supposed to be my year!”
Not only was that a lot of exclamation points, but she also dragged the last word out until it sounded like a cat dying. I tried to calm her down by settling my hand on her shoulder. She shook me off while dropping her cane at her feet. With a ton of creaks and cracks, she knelt down beside him and started babbling about how sorry she was.
“I don’t think you should touch him.” I said this while definitely keeping my distance. I did not want to touch him more than I already had. To be honest, it had been some time since I was involved in anything more than feeding and playing with my kids or running my store and being a wife. Occasionally I would help Ben with a case or two in his work as a private investigator, but it was more paperwork than anything else. I did not want to even know what had happened to the judge, much less who had done it. Ben was not going to be pleased. At all.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. McIntyre,” Myrt said with her face close to his, her hand patting his chest. There was a crinkling noise, but she was still talking. “So very sorry. When Irma died last year in her sleep after winning her forty-ninth straight tournament, I thought I finally had a chance, and now I hit you, and I’m so very, very sorry, and I can’t believe I mistook you for a burglar.” She twisted her hands together like she was wringing out a dishtowel. And she was going to draw blood if she continued biting her lip in between babbling some more.
I had few choices right now. I have to admit here that I had no desire whatsoever to call the police. I didn’t want to be involved in things. I had plans this week. This was not going to keep me from swinging from the freaking chandelier if I could.
Of course, I could go across the street and call from the house, or have Ben call and then remove myself from the situation altogether. But that would be completely unfair to Mrs. Crandall.
I couldn’t help myself. I let out a scream that would have brought down an opera house, something between frustration and fright because, at that moment, something furry ran against my leg before shooting into the bushes.
In the end, the decision of what to do was taken out of my hands because the police came tearing up in the one marked car in town, screeching to a halt at the curb. A man in uniform was out of the car before I could blink again. And I’m glad I didn’t blink because I would have missed the way he jumped from the car and then did a forward roll across the front lawn as if he was in some crazy-assed shootout.
Author bio: Misty Simon loves a good story and decided one day that she would try her hand at it. Eventually she got it right. There’s nothing better in the world than making someone laugh, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books. She lives with her husband, daughter and three insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania where she is hard at work on her next novel or three. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at email@example.com
Farmer’s favorite D.R.Grady book is the Nerd and the Marine. AND NOW THIS! What is a book lover to do?
Odd things keep happening to Dr. Sara Newton. She’s a soon-to-be-unemployed pediatrician with an alleged stalker, a hot cop on her heels breathing dire warnings, and way too much student debt.
It doesn’t help that the hot cop is Clay Morrison, her best friend’s older brother. The man has made her heart pound and her palms sweaty since puberty. The trouble is, he only interacts with her when he’s expounding on new security measures. He sees threats everywhere.
Clay Morrison is frustrated. He hates his new job, misses his Army Ranger days, loves his well-meaning, pushy family—and when did sweet Sara Newton grow up? She won’t admit she has a stalker, and she won’t keep out of his thoughts. He can only protect someone in denial for so long. No matter how attractive she is…
Clay and Sara are circling each other, trying to meet in the middle. Then a brand new threat sends them in a completely different direction.
D.R. Grady lives with her husband near Hershey, PA. She adores chocolate, laughing, collecting bags, books, and shoes, and writing stories that resonate with others.
Twitter: @drgradybooks https://twitter.com/drgradybooks
Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B007HR0ULS
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Google+: D.R. Gradybooks https://plus.google.com/u/0/114138197846185543554/posts
Joy for my dreams.
Lavender for my Ouchies.
Not FDA approved but neither is my storytelling.
Joy is my favorite essential oil blend but not my most used. My most used is the Lavender. When my Ouchies are coming I draw a bath, put in Epsom Salts and Lavender. Then I read, write notes for story ideas or , most likely, watch Asian Dramas. I like it.
Joy. Ah my Joy. Joy, I use as a perfume. Going out today? A whiff of citrus is what I need to send dog, farm boys and dull house smells away and to awaken my creative mind into the realm of dreams.
Someday I am going to be at a fancy gathering, dressed to the nine wearing this oil. Joy reminds me of my dreams of being a famous storyteller and making people smile. It has been a rough three years since when I became bed ridden and unable to care for my family.
My Ouchies and Blahs had taken over my life and now I have the challenges of life changes.I wanted to be a true farm wife. Raise the kids, work with the animals, drive the cultivator in my potato patch but with my Ouchies, I am very limited. I had to find a different dream and go for that and Joy reminds me that I have a future and do have the ability to reach that dream. Joy is my favorite essential oil blend. It keeps my dreams in focus. Who can’t love that?
Greetings fellow life improvers. My name is Annie from the blog ccfarmer4u. As I am writing this I have my 15 ml bottle of Joy by my side and I have panic consuming me. Why? Because I am almost out!
Joy is my favorite essential oil blend but not my most used. My most used is the lavender. I have fibromyalgia, the guess what is going to hurt today, autoimmune disease. When I am very active and I feel the hip bursitis coming on I draw a bath, put in the Epsom salts and lavender. Then I read or watch my Asian Dramas for a long time. Without that I would never be able to move the next day and who wants to spend their 30’s and 40’s in bed?
Joy. Joy I use as perfume. Going out today. A whiff of the citrus smell clears the sinus’s and makes my creative mind swirl into the realm of dreams. Someday I am going to be at a fancy gathering, dressed to the nine wearing this oil. Joy reminds me of my dreams of being a famous storyteller and making people smile. It has been a rough three years since when I became bed ridden and unable to care for my family. After discovering my thyroid was not functioning correctly and then being totally removed because there was cancer on that butterfly organ, I have been battling depression and fibromyalgia. Life changes are challenging. I wanted to be a true farm wife. Raise the kids, work with the animals, drive the cultivator in my potato patch but with this disease I am very limited. I had to find a different dream and go for that and Joy reminds me that I have a future and do have the ability to reach that dream. Joy is my favorite essential oil blend. It keeps the depression at bay. Who can’t love that?
Einstein in Love: A Scientific Romance was a tough read. Technically it was much more difficult than reading than The Battle Of Midway. The Battle of Midway hurt my bleeding heart for the lives lost on both sides but this hurt my eyes and my head. There was nothing wrong with the font it was just that for my, children abducted braincells, was difficult to comprehend such as on page 316 “In general relativity, determining the boundary conditions of the universe involved making assumptions about what happened to the metric, the geometry of space-time, at large distances and remote times from here and now under immediate consideration.” Whew…Maybe because of my fibromyalgia symptom of ADHD it was hard for me to concentrate on sentences like this. However, according to the back cover Martin Gardner, The Washington Post had the opposite view “Written with such wit and verve that it is hard not to zip through in one sitting.” It took me multiple sittings. Oh wait, I am wrong, that was praise for the author, Dennis Overbye’s other book; Lonely Hearts of the Cosmos.
In agreement with Gardner I did laugh out loud at his description of Einstein’s capers. There was wit, I am not denying. Einstein was a character. I do carry a soft pity for his first wife, feeling an empathy of her symptoms as I myself struggle with correspondingly pensive moods at times.
Which makes me wonder…. what did they diagnose her with? Did she have fibromyalgia? I wonder how her life would have been if she had been able to scientifically work part time or full time and still raise a family? What if Einstein had been more like my husband, understanding of disabilities? What if Einstein had been more forgiving and sacrificing his quest for the quantum theory for moving closer to his boys? And what happened to the lost daughter Lieserl?
I wonder if there is a book out there that is written about Mileva Einstein Maric, who Overbye states is buried in an unmarked grave in Zurich.???????
Was this book worth the read? Yes, it brought me out of the textbook ideology of Einstein and into the humanity of a great thinker, lover and, possibly, not the best parent.
Started this book on December 7th, 2016 and ended it on January 11, 2017.