06-06-2010 09:02 PM
Please welcome cozy mystery author KRISTA DAVIS!
Below are Krista's links:
And I'm attaching pictures with the following captions:
1. Queenie, Krista, and Han
2. Krista signing books in North Carolina.
3. Having fun at Malice Domestic. Krista, Janet Bolin, whose Threadville Mysteries will be debuting next summer, and Avery Aames!
4. Dru Ann Love, Mary Jane Maffini, Janet Bolin, Krista Davis, Lorna Barrett, Avery Aames, Sheila Connolly, Maggie Sefton, Leann Sweeney, Kaye George, Christy Evans
06-06-2010 09:03 PM
06-06-2010 09:07 PM
Krista Davis lives and writes in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. She lived in Northern Virginia for many years and resided for a time in Old Town, Alexandria.
She really does have a gregarious Ocicat named Mochie who can open cabinets and leap to amazing heights.
06-06-2010 09:09 PM
Follow Krista on Facebook here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Krista-Davis/1228689
Links to Krista's friends
06-06-2010 09:11 PM
Check out this link on Krista's website - it's too big to copy here:
There are recipes here: http://domesticdivamysteries.com/Domestic_Diva_Mys
06-06-2010 09:12 PM
Color this Domestic Diva puzzled-from the national bestselling author.
When Sophie's neighbor-a reclusive professor-dies, his final wish is for the Domestic Diva to throw a dinner party in his honor, and he's planned everything down to the letter. But what no one planned for is the corpse of a student that Sophie finds in his house.
06-06-2010 09:13 PM
Some Wedding Advice from the Domestic Diva: Keeep the food....Lose the Groom!
Sophie Winston's sister, Hannah, is getting married-again! And if you ask Sophie, her future brother-in-law is no prince. But is he a killer? That's the question on everyone's mind when his ex-wife is found hanging from a pergola. This is one event Sophie and her sister hadn't planned on.
As hidden family secrets begin to come to light, Sophie finds the list of suspects is almost as long as the list of wedding guests. Will the real killer be seated on the groom's side or the bride's? Or will he be standing at the altar? Either way, Sophie must solve the murder in time to stop her sister from making the biggest-and possibly the last-mistake of her life.
06-06-2010 09:14 PM - edited 06-07-2010 10:59 AM
Here's a short excerpt:
Daisy sniffed around the Peeping Tom without so much as a growl. “It’s someone we know.”
I heard Nina suck in air. “The killer! I knew it was Natasha.”
I wasn’t so sure it was Natasha but I thought we should find out. “I’m going to run straight back and cross to the other side of the yard. I’ll stick to the shadows. It’s getting so dark, I think I can do it without being seen. Give me about two minutes, then we’ll sneak up on him from both sides.”
Nina seized the back of my shirt. “And then what? What if it’s not Natasha? We say ‘Oh, please, Mr. Peeping Tom, don’t kill us?’”
She was right. We huddled by the side of the house. “You stay here,” I said. “I’ll get a fireplace poker.”
But just as I took one last look around the corner, I came face to face with the Peeping Tom.
Gracious living can be murder. First in an all-new mystery series— includes delicious recipes and great tips on entertaining!
Few can compete with Natasha Smith when it comes to entertaining, but her childhood rival, Sophie Winston, certainly tries. Natasha may have stolen the spotlight—and Sophie's husband—but Sophie is determined to rob her of the prize for the Stupendous Stuffing Shakedown. She just needs the right ingredient.
But Sophie's search for the perfect turkey takes a basting when she stumbles across a corpse. And when the police find her name and photo inside the victim's car, Sophie will have to set her trussing aside to solve the murder—or she'll be serving up prison grub.
06-06-2010 09:17 PM
06-07-2010 11:01 AM
Here's an excerpt of THE DIVA TAKES THE CAKE:
Craig had left his suitcase next to the rocking chair by the window that overlooked the backyard. Generic gray Samsonite, it could have been purchased anywhere. I pulled it toward me and the chair tilted forward. Kneeling, I laid the bag on the floor and hit the latches on the front. They were locked.
I sat back on my heels and stared at it. Who locked a suitcase for a trip by car? I tried again with no luck.
Where would a man keep a suitcase key? In his wallet. And he’d surely taken it with him.
I rose and peeked in the closet, where I found an inexpensive hanging bag, the kind they give you when you buy a suit. I unzipped it and felt around inside. It didn’t contain much. A navy suit and the tuxedo he bought for the wedding.
Even though it was a long shot, I checked the pockets of the suit. Nothing. Not even a stick of gum. I pressed the fabric of the tuxedo between my hands. Nothing in the trousers pockets.
But when I pried at the lining of the tuxedo jacket for an inside pocket, I felt a little key.
Eureka! I pulled it out, but when I saw what hung on it, chills ran through me.
On the end of a delicate chain hung a sparkling diamond set in a ring of yellow gold. I staggered backward a step, my breath coming hard. It looked suspiciously like the one Emily wore when I’d met her that morning.
Lots of people owned diamond necklaces, I rationalized. I had no reason to believe that this particular one had circled Emily’s neck earlier in the day. I tried to remember if she wore it when I found her, but I had paid no attention to her neck, other than to realize that a rope had cut her life short.
But if Craig had killed Emily and taken her necklace, wouldn’t he hide it in the locked suitcase? The diamond gleamed at me evilly. I was cramming it back into the inner breast pocket of the tuxedo when I heard shuffling at the door.
I whipped around, the damning key still in my hand.
Mom watched from the doorway. “What are you you doing?”
Why hadn’t I prepared some clever lie? “Just . . . making sure he has everything he needs.”
“Sophie! You’re snooping.”
“Mom, he killed Emily.”
“We don’t know that for sure. What’s in your hand?”
Debating whether to mention the necklace, I opened my fingers and showed her the key in my palm. “I think it will open his suitcase.”
She raised her chin, and I expected a well-deserved scolding. “You’d better hurry before he comes back.”
06-07-2010 11:06 AM
06-07-2010 11:06 AM
Thank you so much for your very warm welcome, Becke! I'm so excited to be here.
I also love that Diva logo you found! Who doesn't love a little bling?
06-07-2010 02:08 PM
06-07-2010 02:09 PM
Here's an excerpt:
I expected to see Wolf, but a woman stepped out of the car and regarded me icily. “You again. You call about a finding a dead person?” Her name tag identified her as Tara Borsos. She tossed a long dyed blond ponytail over her shoulder, and sized me up with eyes ringed with so much make-up that a raccoon would have been ashamed. Despite the fact that she wore a wool uniform, she appeared to be a size zero, which made me want to suck my stomach in.
“Just inside. Follow me.”
I hurried up the steps and opened the door.
She seemed to be taking in everything. “The door wasn’t locked?”
“It was this morning when I arrived -- at least I think it was -- but when I found Kurt’s body I left in a hurry.”
She followed me into Mordecai’s family room and stopped cold. “Whoa. What happened in here?”
“An old man lived here, and he died a few days ago. We haven’t had a chance to do much cleaning up yet.”
She sniffed the air. “He died a few days ago? Didn’t you say he was dead night before last when I caught you in his backyard? How did you know he was dead then if you just found him this morning?”
I understood her confusion. “No, no, no. The owner is at the funeral home.”
“So there are two dead men?”
“Technically -- yes.”
“A lot of dying going on in this house. And you knew both of them?”
“I knew my neighbor, but I only met the second dead man, Kurt Finkel, yesterday.” Why did I sound like such a goofball? “He’s in there.” I pointed at the window seat.
“This box?” She lifted the cover.
I averted my eyes. Poor Kurt. Did he have children? His family would be crushed. Except for his attack on Nina, he’d come across as a nice guy.
When I glanced back, Tara was studying me. “Do you see him now?”
What kind of moronic question was that? I peered into the box. It was empty.
06-07-2010 02:15 PM
Here's a special treat from Krista. She says:
"The excerpt is from The Diva Cooks A Goose. This is the first public display of the cover. : ) So far, only my newsletter subscribers have gotten a peek."
Here's the excerpt:
Wolf had barely stepped out of my car when George began to gesture like a crazed person and sprang into a frenzied explanation. George’s daughter, Jen, launched herself at my car door declaring, “Christmas is over!”
I opened the door, stepped out, and smoothed her hair. “Don’t say that, sweetie.” But I had a terrible suspicion that she might be right given the unhappy faces I saw on her neighbors. Not to mention that it didn’t take much to spoil Christmas for a twelve-year-old. Even one like Jen, who never failed to remind us that she would be a very sophisticated and grown-up thirteen on her next birthday, still ten months away.
Moving fast so I wouldn’t miss anything, I scooted around the front of the car in time to hear George say, “I think everyone in the neighborhood should open their houses to the cops. The thief won’t agree and then we’ll know who it is.”
“Thief?” On Christmas Eve?
George’s big frustration in life was that he’d only grown to be medium height. That, coupled with a sweet baby face, made him feel he didn’t have what it took to be a tough guy and intimidate people, but women flocked to him like hummingbirds to a red flower. “Some crumb stole our Christmas gifts. Right out from under our trees. The thief hit the whole neighborhood. We’ve been wiped out.”
“How could that happen?” I asked.
George cast an impatient look at me. “Apparently he did it during the community party. That’s why I think it was an insider job. The thief had to know that everyone would be over at the community center. Someone in our neighborhood is a rat.”
Wolf nodded in the direction of a couple of Fairfax County cops. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“I told you Christmas was over,” said Jen sadly.
Mustering a hopeful voice and trying not to sound like my mother, I said, “There’s more to Christmas than just presents.” In spite of my efforts, my voice faded with lack of conviction. Presents are a huge deal when you’re twelve.
“That’s what Grandma said. I made her a Christmas ornament that’s all sparkly and now some creep has it.”
06-07-2010 02:35 PM
Just read your "The Diva Paints The Town" book over the weekend. It was really alot of fun to read and I loved the recipes too! You really kept me guessing in regards to the murders but that's the fun of reading mysteries, trying to figure out who killed who.
I'll have to get your other Diva books too and get them into my TBR pile. My TBR pile grows bigger every day since Becke has introduced me to all these wonderful writers on her Mystery Boards.
I see you live in Virginia. My daughter lives in Charlottesville and works at the UVA for five deans. Her husband works in the UVA library. They have my first grand-daughter, Evie, so we are visiting there quite frequently.
Hope you enjoy your visit with us!