Someone killed Cousin Maizie. Someone right here in this hotel, while Maizie's body lies in state in the lobby."It's an accident," they say. Sure. She accidentally fell down the elevator shaft while firing her gun. I don't believe that for a second.The question is: who did it, and why?Come and join the Fern family in their faux-Victorian hotel where things just keep getting weirder: cryptic messages, suspicious relatives, family secrets, and a pair of mismatched galoshes. Trust no one, and whatever you do, don't get in the elevator. I am a writer of poetry and short fiction. I live in Seattle with my husband and two toddlers.After exiting my vocation (Social Work) to care for my children, I discovered that I suddenly had a lot of things to say.Most of my writing is available at no cost on my blog, listed below. I have just finished my second Smashwords exclusive book (!).Writing is my whim and secret joy. So, lean in and let me whisper to you; the funny, the beautiful, the absurd.
