Spotlight: You Make My Heart Giggle by Brent John Larsen

Nonfiction, Feel Good, Memoir

Date Published: July 29, 2025

Publisher: Elite Online Publishing

If you liked “Chicken Soup for the Soul” or “Tuesdays with Morrie,” you will love this book.

You Make My Heart Giggle: Dadisms, The Wisdom and Wit of Dad is the perfect book for anyone who cherishes the timeless wisdom of fathers and the lessons they impart, often disguised as quirky sayings. Whether you're seeking inspiration, laughter, or a heartfelt reminder of life's most cherished values, this book is for you.

Inside, you’ll discover:

●     Time-tested Dadisms, each packed with wisdom to inspire courage, persistence, and optimism—so you can tackle life's challenges with confidence.

●     Historical insights and personal stories, showing how these simple sayings align with some of history’s greatest moments, giving you a new appreciation for their deeper meanings.

●     A heartfelt tribute to fatherhood, reminding you of the love, humor, and guidance that shape our lives, so you can cherish and pass these lessons down to generations.

This book is authentic, inspiring, and proven to make you laugh, reflect, and appreciate the impact of a father’s words in ways you never imagined.

Don't wait, grab your copy today and relive the wisdom, laughter, and love that only a dad can provide!

Excerpt

A little about my dad

Little Johnny as my father was known spent his early childhood in cache valley a beautiful mountain setting in northern Utah.  The valley was lush and green in summer with horses and cows grazing peacefully in fields framed by homemade log and wire fences. The severe winters were in stark contrast to the mild summers. bitterly cold but beautiful. Each morning the sun would stream through the trees causing the hoar frost (which had settled on the branches during the night) to sparkle like a thousand little gems. Against a cobalt blue sky, the contrast was stunning. cache valley was a wonderful place for an active young boy to grow up in.  pine covered mountains to climb, clear running rivers to fish and plenty of places to explore.  cache valley got its name from the mountain men and trappers who traveled the Rockies in search of valuable furs, fox, beaver and bear, beaver pelts were in high demand in the east because top hats were all the rage and a beaver top hat signaled wealth and class. Jim Bridger, and Jedediah Smith were a few of those who roamed the high mountains in the 1820’s.  Jedediah was born and raised in Boston,  Jim  hailed from Chicago  These young men had left the comforts of eastern cities for the lonely and rugged life in the west.  it was a solitary existence always working the trap lines by themselves. Each spring around the first week in May, these intrepid young men would assemble together (to retrieve their hidden furs “caches” that they had created during the winter months,) in what was for them the high social event of the year It was called the rendezvous.

Dads father Rube was slight of build. He had come from humble circumstances. raised on a small farm that managed to put food on the table but little else. Rube would spend his entire life raising livestock and living off the land the same as his father and his grandfather before him had done.  Dads mother Charlotte was the daughter of John Anderson.  A tall man, and rather quiet and soft spoken.  He was impeccable in appearance. altogether a rather handsome man. He had amassed a small fortune in real estate, as president of the Logan First National Bank and the proprietor of the ZCMI Mercantile Store on main street.  in 1864 as a young boy He   had walked from St Louis to the Rocky Mountains to homestead with his family in the northern Utah Territory.   it was said of charlotte that she could have any man in the valley but settled on a quiet country boy. As a cattleman Rube was hardly ever home. He was demanding of his children but in a kind sort of way.

My father (little Johnny) was a very active and outgoing young boy with little fear of anything, always towering over his fellow schoolmates. Despite his size, he was a kind and gentle child. As an adult, he was larger than life not only physically, but he was also large intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually. At 6’ 6” 320 pounds, size 16 shoes, coat size 56, everyone quit calling him little Johnny and he simply became known as Big John.

He had an unwavering love for his country. He was part of what Tom Brokaw called “the Greatest Generation“ serving  in world war II in the south pacific. He was involved in the battles at Saipan, Tinian, Iwo Jima, Leyte, Philippines, and Okinawa. along with being part of one of the first contingencies to enter Hiroshima after the Atomic Bomb was dropped.

He loved golf, he loved to travel, he never held public office but was deeply involved in local caucuses, state conventions, and campaigning for candidates he believed in. As far as singing, he could not carry a tune, but he loved music and the arts and saw to it that we often attended the Utah  Symphony, plays at the Promised Valley Play House, and excursions to the local   galleries  so we could appreciate fine art. We could decide for ourselves as to whether or not we wanted to play sports, but we had no such freedom when it came to learning how to play a musical instrument. To dad it was non-negotiable,  He said simply. “You will”

I knew he loved me not only by what he said but by what he actually did. One night in late August of1968, my father came home from work and asked me if I could visit with him for a few minutes. My first though was “Oh no what have I done now. I soon realized that his tone was very different from past visits. He said, “Son I have been offered the job to be the principle of your high school, and I need to know if that would bother you in any way”? I then asked him “what he would do if the answer was yes”, His response surprised me, he said “Son, you are far more important than any job could ever be, and if it would cause you even the slightest worry or concern, I will turn the job down” I knew that he really wanted that job but  I also knew he really meant what he said. My answer to him was that it would be fine and for the next 3 years we had what many would call a rather unique experience together.

I hope the stories I tell  here will be of some interest, but more importantly I hope it will awaken in each reader the realization of the lessons that each has learned from those who have been  their source of inspiration and learning. Those who have truly made a difference in their lives.

Buy on Amazon

About the Author

Brent was a product of the fascinating and turbulent decades of the 60’s and 70’s. He came from a very average middle-class family. Growing up, he would be labeled by society’s standards as almost invisible. He was surrounded by incredible role models that greatly influenced his life, including teachers, friends, and most importantly, family. Brent was an Eagle Scout and served a two-year mission for his church in Northern England.

He met his future bride in a geology class at the University of Utah and graduated with a BS degree in History. Putting himself through school, he worked for First Security State Bank. Brent taught students with reading disabilities at Union Jr High School and History at Alta High School before leaving education to work for Pfizer Pharmaceutical. Eventually, he started his own highly successful construction company, which now includes three of his sons as part of the family business. He also owns 3 companies involved in real estate development and acquisition.

Brent's greatest joy comes from his family. He is a proud father to 2 daughters and 5 sons, and a contented grandpa to 30 grandchildren, with one great-grandchild on the way. He loves sports, photography, travel, especially in France, England, Holland, and the inside passage of Alaska and being in the outdoors; he cherishes time at their cabin in the Manti Lasal mountains or their condo in the red rock country of southern Utah. He enjoys hiking and rappelling slot canyons in the southwest and river running, especially the mighty Colorado River.  Brent also started the Metra Learning Center and On-line productions. He played the clarinet in the University of Utah marching and pep bands and remarkably built his first home with no prior construction experience, which still stands 45 years later.

Throughout his life, Brent has been driven by the undeniable influence one person can have on generations untold and the profound lessons taught by a father to his sons and daughters. His life reflects the deep and enduring relationship between a father and his children.

Website: youmakemyheartgiggle.com

Spotlight: The Amazon Author Formula Workbook by Penny C. Sansevieri

Many authors pour everything into writing the book—only to be stumped by what comes next.

Penny Sansevieri’s The Amazon Author Formula Workbook bridges that gap. This interactive companion to her bestselling guide offers structured, expert-driven support for building a sustainable Amazon strategy. With over a dozen worksheets and checklists, the workbook covers keyword research, pricing analysis, launch planning, ARC review tracking, retail page audits, and Amazon Ads—each step designed to help you take control of your visibility and sales. Authors can download all worksheets using a free access code provided in the book. With its guided format and strategic insights, the workbook empowers authors to stop guessing and start executing.

Excerpt

Understanding Amazon’s Ecosystem

Amazon is more than just the world’s largest online bookstore—it’s a complex ecosystem that, when understood and navigated correctly, can propel significant success for your books. In this chapter, we’ll dive into the core mechanics of how Amazon works for authors, from category rankings and algorithms to mastering keywords and metadata. Understanding these elements is the foundation for getting your book seen by the right readers.

Key Concepts

  1. Amazon's Algorithms and How They Work

Amazon uses algorithms to determine which books get the most visibility. These algorithms consider factors like sales velocity, reviews, and engagement. The better you understand how these factors play into your book’s success, the more you can take advantage of them.

2. Keyword Optimization

Keywords are essential for helping readers find your book. When people search for a topic, Amazon pulls up books based on the relevance of the keywords entered. Your book needs to be optimized with the right keywords that align with the subject your target readers are searching for.

3. Categories and Subcategories

Choosing the right categories can significantly impact your book’s visibility and its chances of becoming a bestseller within that category. By selecting both broad and niche categories, you can increase the likelihood of your book ranking high and staying visible for longer periods.

4. The Power of Bestseller and Hot New Release Lists

Appearing on Amazon’s bestseller lists, or hot new release lists is a great way to increase your book’s visibility. But reaching these lists isn’t just about luck—it’s about strategically positioning your book through timing, keywords, and initial sales pushes.

But before we dig into all of this, let’s find your perfect target reader. 

Who Are Your Target Readers?

What do you think are your correct keywords? Chances are, whatever you said may be wrong. The reality is that authors often perceive their book differently than they should. It’s not because they’ve misunderstood who their reader is, but they often assume their reader base is much larger than it is. This is in no way a bad thing. However, it’s all  about zeroing in on who your reader is. In other words, who would naturally gravitate to your book vs. who may stumble upon it accidentally and be intrigued? This latter group of readers is not your target. Let me explain. 

Let’s say you’ve written a young adult book. It’s an adventure story with some fantasy elements and you say, “Well, my book is not that dissimilar from the Harry Potter series, so clearly my target audience is very wide: young adults, and adults of all ages.”

Harry Potter did well across a variety of age groups; that’s a true statement. But it didn’t start out that way. The publisher started out by focusing on the core reader group and expanded out from there. 

Before you can dive headlong into finding great keywords, you need to identify your readers. What similar books do they read? How will your book help them, etc. 

Finding the Best Categories for Your Book

Putting your book in the wrong category is akin to shelving your book in the wrong place at a bookstore or library. You want to go where your readers are, which means being laser focused on which “shelf” your book should be on. 

There are two types of categories; the first are the standard industry categories, also referred to as BISAC (Book Industry Standards and Communications). The second are the Amazon Kindle categories. You’ll want to review my book to help better understand this process, as well! 

Generally, I recommend applying your Kindle book to these very Amazon-specific categories. Why? Because they’re unique, underused, and a great way to gain more visibility for your book. 

Buy on Amazon: Book | Workbook

About the Author

Sansevieri is one of publishing’s most respected voices in book marketing. Through her company Author Marketing Experts, she’s led campaigns that landed books on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists. Her no-nonsense approach, combined with a deep understanding of what makes readers (and algorithms) respond, has helped thousands of authors launch and grow their publishing careers. She continues to lead the conversation around effective marketing through her podcast and workshops.

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Spotlight: The Road to Gretna by Suleena Bibra

(Road to Romance, #1)

Publication date: June 3rd 2025

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

What better way to escape reality than going on a reality show that combines The Amazing RaceLove Island, and Pride and Prejudice?

Naomi Richmond is hoping an ocean is far enough away from her overbearing father. She’s chosen London and built a life there with a job she only dislikes about a quarter of the time.

Nate Williams is perfectly happy where he is, and his dissatisfaction with his job is so low it can’t be quantified numerically. Unfortunately, his boss (and Naomi’s father) is asking him to do something that might make him start to hate Mondays: convince Naomi to come home.

Nate arrives in London at the same time Naomi receives an offer that intrigues her as much as Nate does: be on a reality dating show, where the contestants will pretend to be Regency aristocrats eloping to the famed Gretna Green. Nate is sure it’s his job to stop this, but instead, he ends up on the show with her. Now Naomi is trying to make a name for herself while Nate is trying to make sure she doesn’t do anything to embarrass her father, and they’re both trying to fight the attraction they feel for each other. On camera.

Tune in whenever you find this book and watch Nate and Naomi find themselves and each other, on The Road to Gretna!

Excerpt

“You’re ruined now!” a voice screeches. 

I lift my head at the inane comment. “What?” My lips are still wet from the kiss, and I still have a painful erection. I don’t appreciate the interruption. 

I see Diane, the chaperone, looking incensed in front of us, with a cameraperson and producer standing behind her. 

“Right, we’re on a reality show,” I whisper to Naomi. 

“Ruined! After all my hard work keeping you virtuous, now you’re ruined!” Diane carries on, adding some dramatic hand gestures and maybe some tears. 

Naomi starts giggling next to me, first demurely behind her hand, but then louder as Diane keeps ranting. She sets me off and now we’re both laughing in the face of…whatever this is. 

“Why is no one concerned about my virtue, though?” I ask Naomi, sending her into more fits of laughter. 

“You’re a man.” Diane pauses the rant to educate me. “And you’ve ruined Naomi!” 

I try to defend the lady next to me. And myself. “Ruined seems like a bit of an overreaction for a kiss.”

“A kiss.” Diane sounds as scandalized as if I told her I was getting a hummer on this bench instead of a hot, but still tame, kiss. “Ruined!” 

These might be the only words Diane knows now, too shocked at the (fully clothed) debauchery that allegedly happened here. 

“All right then. Maybe we should go back to the ball?” I have no idea what it supposed to happen now that I’ve “ruined” a woman, never having done it before. I look at Naomi, hoping she has any idea what we’re supposed to do, but she’s still laughing too hard at the situation to be any help. 

I stand up, not worried about my penis, which started softening at the first screech of “ruin.” I extend my arm out to Naomi, who manages to stop laughing enough to take it. 

The producer standing next to the camerawoman gives us a thumbs-up and Diane immediately stops crying. Terrifying. 

“Great. We’ve got that. We can go back inside, but we’re going to put you two in a sitting room for a few hours. Part of the ruin consequences. We’ll bring you out when it’s time to get in a couple.” The producer indicates we should follow her. “I’m Aiko, by the way. I’ll be producing the both of you.” 

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” I say to the East Asian-British woman in front of me. “I don’t usually ruin women in gardens.” 

That sets Naomi off again, and I have to half drag her laughing body back inside the house. 

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Suleena Bibra has read romance in one form or another since she could pick her own books. She occasionally branches out to other genres, but really, what’s the point if there’s no kissing? She also loves to laugh, which probably has to do with her dad putting Monty Python on whenever her mom wasn’t looking. 

Suleena studied art history in college and loves to travel every opportunity she gets. A bit indecisive, she has worked as a museum intern, lawyer, workers’ compensation adjuster, and private investigator. Author is best, though, so she can continue living out a bunch of other careers without changing out of her pajamas. 

Suleena writes RomComs heavy on banter, shenanigans, and aggressive whimsy. She spends the rest of her time annoying her stubborn, but adorable, bulldog (who also doubles as her particularly lazy writing assistant) with her love.

Connect:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21132205.Suleena_Bibra

https://suleenabibra.com/

https://www.instagram.com/suleenabibra/

https://x.com/SuleenaBibra

Spotlight: The Deepest Fake by Daniel Kalla

From internationally bestselling author Daniel Kalla, whose thrillers are “impossible to put down” (Amy Stuart, #1 bestselling author of Death at the Party), comes a razor-sharp psychological thriller about a CEO whose carefully curated life is falling apart. His wife is cheating, someone is stealing from his AI company, and he’s just been handed a fatal diagnosis. He’d end it all, if only he could trust his own reality.

Liam Hirsch has it all—a loving family, a thriving career as CEO of an AI company, financial security, and a bright future. But when he’s diagnosed with a terminal illness, just weeks after discovering his wife’s infidelity, his perfect life unravels. As he grapples with his fate, he prepares to face his final days on his own terms.

However, unexplained events inside his company make him question everything—including his diagnosis. In a world of deepfake videos, synthetic voices, and digital deception, couldn’t these technologies be weaponized against him? What if nothing is as it seems?

With time running out, Liam turns to Andrea DeWalt, a private investigator contending with her own feelings of betrayal, to help him uncover a conspiracy that threatens his life, his family, and their future. In a world where nothing is as it seems and every digital footprint can be manipulated, who can Liam trust?

Excerpt

Liam Hirsch never seriously contemplated dying before his forty-ninth birthday—until today.

As he lets his electric Ford F-150 coast down the long driveway on this gray, drizzly Tuesday—a typical January afternoon in Seattle—he’s struck by the sheer size of the house he’s called home for seven years. It’s strange, this fixation on something so mundane. Am I still in shock? He wonders.

Liam grew up in a cramped rental on a cracked street lined by patchy lawns. He never imagined owning a house like this—a hundred-year-old Tudor Revival fully refurbished with white oak floors, Carrara marble, a chef’s kitchen, and three fireplaces—let alone living in Broadmoor, a gated enclave designed to keep people like him out. But none of it matters now, he realizes with a shiver. He won’t be living anywhere much longer.

He remembers the day they moved in. The twins, Ava and Cole, just eight years old, swarmed the house as though on an Easter egg hunt, their laughter echoing through the empty rooms. Celeste joined in, launching a pillow fight before helping Ava pin up posters of Ariana Grande and Shawn Mendes. Even after the kids fell asleep, his wife was still buzzing with excitement. They lay together on the living room couch, surrounded by empty boxes, her legs tangled with his as she eagerly detailed the renovations needed to put “the Hirsch stamp” on their new home. But now the memory sours. Liam, preoccupied with a glitch in his company’s app, barely registered Celeste’s words or appreciated what the house truly represented: the security he had always sought for his family.

Liam parks in the four-car garage’s only empty stall and sits there, staring at the bikes, skis, kayaks, and camping gear—each item a trigger for memories of family adventures that now feel like someone else’s. He’s going to have to avoid music, he realizes, or he won’t be able to hold it together. His hand hovers over the door handle. He wrestles with the same questions that have dogged him since leaving the doctor’s office: What do I tell Celeste? How do I break it to the kids?

He wonders if he should be as blunt as Dr. Hudson Chow was. Liam hadn’t gone to the neurologist expecting good news—he knew the muscle twitches in his legs, shoulders, and, of all places, his tongue were worrisome signs. But the grim look on Dr. Chow’s face told him everything before any words were spoken.

“Mr. Hirsch . . . it’s not good,” Dr. Chow said.

“We didn’t expect good, did we?” Liam replied with a forced smile.

“True, but we didn’t expect it to be this severe,” Dr. Chow said, his eyes unwavering. “The MRIs, the EMG, the biopsy—they all point to the same diagnosis: amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. ALS.”

The words knocked the breath out of him. “Like Stephen Hawking,” he whispered, visualizing the famed scientist slumped in his wheelchair, his head and neck contorted, reliant on a robotic voice to communicate.

“Yes, but like any disease, ALS has an unpredictable course,” Dr. Chow said. “Stephen Hawking lived for decades with it.”

“I won’t?”

“Your condition has progressed significantly since your last appointment.”

“You’re saying I don’t just have run-of-the-mill ALS, I have the aggressive

form?”

“We never classify ALS as run-of-the-mill, Mr. Hirsch. But yes, ‘aggressive’ would be a fair description.”

“And there’s no treatment?”

 “There are two new medications that can sometimes slow the progression or lessen symptoms. I’ll prescribe them today.”

“They’re not cures?”

“No. At best, they might prolong functionality. Delay the onset of more symptoms.”

“Delaying it is the best I can hope for?”

“There are experimental therapies emerging. We could look for a study . . .”

The hesitation in Dr. Chow’s voice was enough. “But they don’t work, do they?”

“Not so far, no.”

Liam’s head spun. “So, I have months, at best?”

“In terms of functionality, yes, probably.”

“Functionality?”

Dr. Chow finally looked away. “If the disease continues to progress at this pace, you will likely lose much of your basic motor function within the next six to twelve months.”

Liam’s hands sat still in his lap. His calmness astounded him. Would it last? Could it? “You’re telling me I won’t be able to speak, walk, or even swallow in six months? Or sooner?”

“It’s impossible to predict with certainty, but . . . yes, there’s a good chance of that kind of progression.” Dr. Chow sighed, his expression so strained that Liam couldn’t help but feel a flicker of sympathy for him. “At some point in the near future, Mr. Hirsch, you’ll need to think about life support and how you feel about being placed on a ventilator. Perhaps you could come back with your wife . . .”

The shock must have set in then because the rest of their conversation is a blur.

Stunned, Liam wandered back to his truck, sinking into the driver’s seat and staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror. The man looking back seemed much older than he felt. Anger surged—rage at the injustice, at his body’s betrayal, at the world for spinning on while his life unraveled. He wanted to scream, to hit something, to release the pressure building inside him. But all he could do was sit there, silent, as the weight of his diagnosis pressed down.

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Daniel Kalla is an internationally bestselling author of many novels, including Fit to DieThe Darkness in the LightLost ImmunityThe Last High, and We All Fall Down. Kalla practices emergency medicine in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Spotlight: The Alchemy of Flowers by Laura Resau

A broken woman. A mysterious job ad. A chance to heal in French castle gardens--but strange things are growing behind the ancient stone walls. This debut adult novel is an enchanting, modern-day take on The Secret Garden, sprinkled with magic. Perfect for fans of Sarah Addison Allen.

Help Wanted: In search of a gardener for the ancient walled Jardins du Paradis in the South of France. Unique and rustic lodging provided. Off the grid in all ways. One must grow flowers from one's merde . . .

Exhausted and broken by loss, Eloise takes the chance of a lifetime to answer an ad in a French gardening magazine. To fly away from her life in the States and tend to both her shattered heart and the flowers of Paradise. And best of all for her . . .

Absolutely no children allowed on the premises.

Within the high garden walls, Eloise starts to learn the strange rules of the elusive estate owner. Living and working in isolation with her three companions, she finds her heart opening again to friendship--and realizes she's drawn to the handyman, Raphael. The flowers whisper to her, enchanting, delighting, healing. But why are the workers forbidden from going out during dusk? Who is the "Goddess of the Garden"? Is her mind playing tricks on her, or does she see a woodsprite flitting through the trees? The giggles and glimpses of a little girl haunt her and make her question: What is real in Paradise and what is illusion?

Eloise tries to rationalize her uneasy feelings and the darkness she uncovers beneath the garden's lush beauty, but as she digs deeper into the mysteries of her sanctuary, she begins to suspect there's a child on the grounds--who may be in danger. When Paradise becomes a deadly prison, she must risk everything to protect her newfound family and claim her second chance at happiness.

Excerpt

The Gardens of Paradise

Dizzy with jet lag, I stood on the wooden platform in Sainte-Marie-des-Fleurs as the train vanished into the distance. Cicadas hummed in a mesmerizing rhythm. The scent of lavender curled around me and a surreal blue stretched above the hills. The air itself somehow shimmered.

As I made my way to the front of the station, people whirled past, going about their lives, rolling suitcases, holding hands, kissing cheeks, strolling to tiny cars. 

Watching them drive away, I waited alone with my single bag—I’d packed light for my job in the walled Gardens of Paradise. No one to impress but the flowers. Back in Denver, packing had felt therapeutic, choosing what to bring into my new life. Mostly practical khaki-colored things.

Colorado seemed a lifetime away. Tying up the threads of my past had required a tangle of online and phone logistics. As I’d moved through automated voice options, I’d marveled at how archaic the process of getting the job had been—a magazine ad, a snail-mailed resumé, a handwritten offer of employment, and paper plane tickets. An impossible task from a fairy tale . . . yet here I was.

In my dazed state, I took in the absurd beauty of Provence on the brink of summer. Perched on a ridge stood a cluster of creamy stone buildings topped with red tile roofs. Walled terraces and haphazard stairs wove through the village, which was dotted with cypress and olive trees. Green velvet unfurled over slopes and valleys, rows of lavender ribboned into the horizon, rock outcroppings pierced the sky—all of it begging to be Postimpressionistically painted.

The afternoon sun shone on my fuzzy-brained head as I scanned for someone resembling a personal assistant. At least she’d know what I looked like, thanks to my passport photo.

Oleander blooms whispered in the breeze, and French conversations drifted by, snippets of pleasantries and greetings. Then I registered soft crying, the whimpers of a child. I locked eyes with a towheaded toddler, slumped against the stone wall, his face pink and tearstained. Lost in the bustle. I hurried to him and knelt down to eye level. Somehow the French word for lost came to my hazy brain. “Perdu?”

He gave a miserable nod, his face damp with snot and tears. Resisting the urge to comfort him, I stood up and glanced around, noting a woman just looking up from her phone, scouring the crowd, expression frazzled.

When I pointed her out, the child rushed toward her, calling out, “Maman!” in his hoarse little voice.

I looked away and swallowed the lump in my throat. This would be the last child I’d see for a while. A fact that made me want to cry, even as I welcomed it. As the parking lot emptied, I clutched my job offer in my sweaty hand like a talisman, something to reassure me this was real. It had arrived last week, a month after I’d mailed in my application—an assortment of documents, a copy of my passport, two photos, a cassette tape, and a plastic baggy of ashes . . . per the instructions of the job ad. I’d knelt in my garden, opened the airmail envelope with a whispered prayer, then read the hand- scripted letter to my rosebuds:

One is delighted to inform you that one is offering you employment

as a gardener in Paradise. Enclosed, please find an airplane ticket

from Denver to Paris, and train tickets to Sainte-Marie-des-Fleurs.

One will meet you at the station.

Respectfully,

Antoinette Beaulieu

Personal Assistant

Le Château du Paradis

I stuffed the letter back into my pocket, my stomach tightening. Now I was the sole person left at the train station. I had no phone or even a number to call. What if this Antoinette Beaulieu didn’t show?

There was no going back to Colorado. No job, no home, no friends or family there. I’d switched all my bills to autopay and hadn’t left a forwarding address. I’d donated my cheap belongings and sold my decade-old Subaru, which put a slight dent in my debt. I’d called my parents in Vermont to tell them I’d be off grid.

Then—poof— I’d flown out of my life.

And now there was no life to return to.

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Laura Resau is the author of The Alchemy of Flowers, her debut novel for adults, and eleven acclaimed books for young people. Her novels won five Colorado Book Awards and appear on best-of booklists from Oprah, the American Library Association, and more. Trilingual and with a cultural anthropology background, she’s lived in Provence and Oaxaca, and now teaches creative writing at Western Colorado University. You might find her writing in her cozy vintage trailer in Fort Collins, Colorado, where she lives with her rock-hound husband, musician son, wild husky, a garden of healing flowers, and a hundred house plants. Connect with her online at lauraresau.com; Instagram: @lauraresau

Spotlight: Icing on the Murder by V. M. Burns

From Agatha and Edgar Award nominated author Valerie Burns, influencer-turned-bakery-owner Maddy Montgomery has sold plenty of wedding cakes before, but before she turns one out for her and her fiancé’s wedding, she’ll have to solve a little case of murder first…

Aunt Octavia would be so proud! Maddy has turned Baby Cakes Bakery—named for her 250-pound English Mastiff, Baby—into a runaway success, and she’s marrying the love of her life, veterinarian Michael Portman. #DreamWedding! Plus the timing couldn’t be better: the country’s biggest bridal expo has come to New Bison, Michigan, and Maddy has secured a spot for Baby Cakes to showcase their cakes. She’s also entered a contest for an all-expenses-paid wedding extravaganza offered by world-renowned wedding planner Serafina.

Unfortunately, supremely nasty Serafina truly takes the cake—she makes the worst bridezilla seem like a shy flower girl. But there’s one thing the wedding planner didn’t plan on—being impaled by one of the skewers Baby Cakes uses on their tiered wedding cakes.

While Maid of Honor Sheriff April Johnson rounds up suspects at the expo, Maddy and her aunt’s friends, the Baker Street Irregulars, and even Baby join forces to unveil a killer hiding in plain sight . . . before wedding bells start to chime.

Excerpt

“Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from New Bison, Michigan, it’s time for the main event. Army versus Navy in the battle of the century.” Tyler Lawrence paused dramatically before continuing. “Now, let’s get ready to rum-bullll!” He drew the last syllable out for a long time in his best impersonation of Michael Buffer, the wrestling and boxer announcer.

I wasn’t a fan of either sport. Having grown up on a naval base surrounded by sailors, even a fashionista like me recognized the phrase. I was surprised by Tyler’s performance. He was normally a quiet man of few words, but ever since he took on the added responsibility of acting mayor in addition to his knitwear shop, he’s been much more outgoing.

With his fist to his mouth as if he were holding a microphone, Tyler Lawrence moved around the large dining room table and stood in front of Michael. “In this corner, at six feet tall and weighing in at . . . ?”

“Two hundred five pounds.” Michael stretched his neck to the side in the way I’d seen professional athletes do in preparing to compete. His neck cracked, and he grinned across the table at me.

“We have Army veteran and renowned local veterinarian, Dr. Michael ‘The Man’ Portman.” Tyler cheered and smacked Michael on the back.

My head baker and friend, Leroy Danielson, stood behind Michael and massaged his shoulders like a trainer preparing a boxer to enter the ring.

Tyler went back around the table. “In this corner, at five-feet- four-inches tall and weighing in at . . . ?” He stuck his fist in front of my face.

“None of your business,” I said.

“Representing the Navy in this battle, we have the daughter of Navy Admiral Jefferson Augustus Montgomery. Fashionista, social media influencer, entrepreneur, and owner of Baby Cakes Bakery, Madison ‘The Squid’ Montgomery.”

Tyler cheered.

“Don’t call me Squid.”

April Johnson was the sheriff, my tenant, and, most importantly, my friend. She chuckled and reached over and fluffed my hair. At nearly six feet tall, with gray eyes and dark wavy hair, she was stunning. April often downplayed her beauty by pulling her hair back into a bun and wearing very little makeup. On the rare occasions when she allowed herself to be a normal human instead of a sheriff, and wore makeup and flattering clothes instead of a uniform, she was a knockout. Today was Sunday. April was off duty and looked like a model.

“This is a lot of foolishness,” Hannah Portman said. She sat at the head of the dining room table and sipped her coffee.

Hannah was Michael’s grandmother and one of the Baby Cakes bakers. She had been best friends with my Great-Aunt Octavia, who started Baby Cakes and from whom I’d inherited it.

“April, don’t encourage this nonsense,” Hannah Portman said. “If we’re done with our Sunday meeting, then we can go and let Maddy and Michael work out the details of their budget without an audience.”

“But we were just getting to the good part,” Tyler said.

Hannah Portman was an older Black woman who had mastered “the look.” She fixed her gaze onto him, and he immediately stopped. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tyler dropped his hand with the invisible microphone, rose, and started to clear the table.

Leroy Danielson snickered. Big mistake.

“And you can take Baby outside to do his business.” Hannah put one hand on her hip. Her look dared him to argue.

Thankfully, both Tyler and Leroy knew where to draw the line.

Leroy patted his leg. “Come on, Baby.”

Baby had been trained by Great-Aunt Octavia. He took a moment to stretch but then trotted next to Leroy, lining his right shoulder up with Leroy’s leg and sitting patiently while staring up at Leroy for his next command.

Leroy smiled down at Baby. “Baby, heel.”

Baby kept his shoulder lined up with Leroy’s leg and adjusted his gait to match. The two walked out of the dining room, and I heard the door open and knew they were outside.

“Humph,” Hannah said. “Now, you two have work to do, and you don’t need an audience to do it.” Her gaze moved from Michael to me. Then, she picked up a pitcher of orange juice and a plate and left.

April rose and picked up a casserole dish and the remaining plates. “I’m going before she comes back.”

When April had run for the sheriff of New Bison, Michigan, she wasn’t a trained policeman. In fact, she actually entered the race more from a need to prove that she could. The desire came after she’d entered the race. Her experience in beauty pageants and the support of Great-Aunt Octavia propelled her to victory. When she won, she went through training and learned the job. It turned out well. April found her calling and turned out to be a great sheriff, even though she lacked confidence. So, each Sunday, Great-Aunt Octavia had invited April and her other close friends over for brunch, and they discussed any hard cases. The New Bison version of Sherlock Holmes’s Baker Street Irregulars was born. Now, even though Great-Aunt Octavia was gone, the group still met whenever there were difficult problems to be solved.

Today’s problem wasn’t a crime, but figuring out the budget for Michael and my wedding might lead to bloodshed.

“Okay, Squid,” Michael said. “What’s the big problem?”

“What are you talking about? And don’t call me Squid.”

The various branches of the military had a number of names for one another. Most were benign. Michael and I often tossed them around as we bickered. Squid was his favorite term of endearment, and I didn’t mind it any more than he minded when I called him a grunt or dumb Joe. However, while engaged in tactical negotiations, I wasn’t ready to concede anything, yet.

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About the Author

Valerie (V. M.) Burns is a mystery writer whose novels and short stories have been finalists for the Agatha, Anthony, Edgar, and Next Generation Indie Book Awards. She is the author of the Mystery Bookshop, Dog Club, RJ Franklin, and Baker Street Mystery series, as well as the Bailey the Bloodhound Mysteries under the name Kallie E. Benjamin. Valerie is a member of Sisters in Crime, Crime Writers of Color, Mystery Writers of America, and the Crime Writers' Association. She is also an adjunct professor in the Writing Popular Fiction Program at Seton Hill University in Greensburg, PA. Born and raised in northwestern Indiana, Valerie now lives in the southeastern United States with her two poodles.