"Death by Chocolate" author Julie A. Lindsey stops by!

Now that I've prettied the place up a bit, allow me to introduce you to author and Twitter goddess Julie A. Lindsey. Her upbeat attitude and love of cheesy 90's music are only two of the many reasons why she has achieved elite "have Tweets sent to Dan's phone" status.

In Julie's own words:

"I’m a gear switcher. I think I have undiagnosed Adult ADHD. I can’t pick a genre like your fearless horror loving blog host, so I just keep writing random stories. It’s an illness. I can’t be blamed. In February I went all swoony on everyone promoting some sweet romance novellas for example, while today I’m here to tell you about Death by Chocolate, my debut novel wherein a nice lady kills people with her gourmet muffins. See what I mean? I’m a mess. But, a smiley mess. I brought along a book trailer, and an excerpt. I hope they make someone smile or at least make you pass by the next bake sale you come to. You never know."

If Julie offers to bake for you, run.

Stalk Julie at:
Musings from the Slush Pile
Twitter
GoodReads
Amazon

Ruby Russell has reached her limit. When she discovers her hipster husband has a dirty little secret, she whips him up a Viagra-infused-chocolate mousse punishment, but in the morning, her husband's a stiff. Armed with a lifetime of crime show reruns and Arsenic and Old Lace on DVD, Ruby and her best friend Charlotte try to lay low until after Ruby's son's wedding, but a nosy therapist, meddling minister and local news reporter are making it very difficult to get away with murder.

Charlotte threw the bag over one shoulder and wrapped her free arm around Ruby’s slumping shoulders. “What happened to you?” Her kind voice replete with indignation. Ruby knew that voice well. She’d often thought Charlotte could command armies when she was in that disposition. The fierceness of the tone made Ruby feel safe. Unfortunately for Charlotte, the security overwhelmed her and the tears ran anew.

She dug into Ruby’s purse for her keys and let them inside. Charlotte went to the kitchen while Ruby lay down on the couch. In a minute, Charlotte returned with some pills and a cool, wet cloth.

“Take your time.” She headed back to the kitchen. “I’ll get the coffee going.”

“No.” Ruby waved one arm from under the cold white cloth. She’d managed to spread it over her face like a mask and held it in place with the other hand. “Wine, please. I’d like wine. It’s in the cupboard.”

“Fine, but I don’t condone it.”

Ruby heard the cupboard door click shut.

“Ruby Russell!” Charlotte exclaimed. Ruby jumped three inches.

“Ohhh.” She groaned. She listened to Charlotte’s footsteps moving heavily toward her.

“What is this?”

Ruby pulled a corner of the cloth back to see what she was being accused of. Charlotte held a freezer bag full of pills in front of her. “Oh.” She recovered her face and motioned Charlotte back to get her wine. “Those are my pills from Dr. Kessler.”

“Does he deal on the street now? No need for a pharmacy? You just hold out your hands or an empty sack and he pours them in? Don’t you lie to me, Ruby Russell!” She slammed the bag hard against the coffee table.

“Hey!” Ruby shouted. “You’re the one who told me if I was going to take medication I should see the doctor. Well, I do and he gives me prescriptions and I don’t take them. After thirty days, I dump them in there and get my refill.”

Charlotte looked like she’d been goosed. Her eyes sought answers from the giant bag of pills. She pushed the bag aside and sat on the little table with them. “Once more please.”

Ruby huffed and sat upright. The act took more energy than she’d planned to expend before enjoying a glass of wine. She eyed Charlotte. There would be no wine without clarification.

“Dr. Kessler wants to see me every week.” She spoke to Charlotte as if she were six years old or perhaps in possession of a very low I.Q. “He wants me to tell him I’m taking my medication and I’m doing well on it. So, I do. It’s part of the charade.” Ruby rolled her eyes and Charlotte visibly relaxed.

“Why not actually take the medication?”

“Because I. Am. Fine.” Ruby shot up onto her feet and marched into the kitchen to pour her own wine.

“Why keep them? Street value?” Charlotte followed close behind Ruby into the kitchen.

“Street value?” Ruby yanked a glass from the drying rack. “Do I look like a pimp to you?” Ruby poured a glass of wine and rolled it against her forehead under her neatly sculpted blond bangs. Her cream blouse and pearl buttons perfectly aligned with her brown pencil skirt.

“No. You don’t look like a pimp.” Charlotte smirked.

“What?” Ruby’s shoulders attacked her ears. “What?”

“It’s nothing. Never mind. Why not take the pills?”

“I’d rather drink.” She cashed the first glass and returned it to the counter for a refill. “I can’t drink and take the pills.” She held up the bottle on the counter. “I’d rather drink.”

“Then throw them out. Can you imagine if someone came and found them? What are you keeping them for?”

“I may need them sometime.”

Charlotte nodded. That made sense. It paid to be prepared. Life could be messy.