Wednesday, August 22, 2012

A Cozy Mystery Wednesday Featuring Duffy Brown

Happy Hump Day everyone!

About a month ago author Duffy Brown (aka Diane Castell) contacted me to review her debut cozy mystery release titled Iced Chiffon. I can not express the excitement I had when I opened her email. She was so kind in our conversation and upon my accepting her title promised to send out an ARC ALL THE WAY TO MEXICO just for me. And sure enough a couple of weeks later my copy arrived. Made me feel very special! 

This title is my first opportunity to read a book before its release. Hopefully my early review due out on August 30th will help build awareness of the coming release so those that like it can add this must-read to your lists.

Since today is Cozy Mystery Wednesday I find it fitting to share an excerpt from Duffy Brown's Iced Chiffon due out this October from Berkley.

After reading the excerpt I'd love to hear what you find so endearing about this genre.
Happy Reading!

Iced Chiffon
Duffy Brown

Back of the Book:


I didn’t need Hollis upset that I was using his Lexus as a delivery van. I wanted to keep him in Zen-mode till he signed over Cherry House. 

     As I drove down Habersham the smell of fine leather and the feel of an electronically cooled seat chilling my derriere made me realize just how much I’d missed this car. Right now I missed any car. I killed the engine by my gnarled cherry tree in full bloom that gave the house its name. The aroma was incredible, and half the reason I persuaded Hollis to buy the house years ago.

     The other half was that I’d loved this house since I was a kid. I watched it deteriorate bit by bit and I knew I could save it. The fact that I’d never hammered or screwed or sawed a thing in my life didn’t deter my enthusiasm. It should have.

     Auntie KiKi scurried out the front door waving her hands in the air. “Where in the world have you been?” she panted, leaning in through the open car window, her cheeks flushed. “When I got home people were waiting on your porch ready to shop in that new consignment store of yours. They said they got one of those tweets.” She tisked, the universal sound of exasperated Southern women everywhere. “Whatever happened to the days when you got a nice phone call from a friend telling you what was what?” she lamented. “You have customers in your dining room, and I have a waltz lesson with Bernard in ten minutes.” She heaved a weary sigh. 

    Bernard Thayer was seventy, had no rhythm, less coordination, been Mr. Weather on Savannah TV for thirty years and he was determined to wind up on Dancing with the Stars. “What in the world are you doing with the Lexus?” KiKi asked me.

      “I sold that fountain in the back yard to Raylene Carter. Now I have to deliver it as well as get the car back before Hollis knows I took it. I sort of didn’t tell him.”
     “Grand Theft Auto, your mamma will be so proud.”

     I ignored the possibility and popped the trunk. “Take a look-see at how much room we have. Hollis stores his real estate junk in there.” I grabbed my purse and rummaged for keys to the shed as I headed for the back yard. “I’ve got a cart and we can haul the fountain and--”

     “Sweet Jesus in heaven! Uh, Reagan, honey,” KiKi called, her finger crooked at me in a come-here gesture. “We have junk, a great big pile of it.” 

“Dump it on the lawn,” I said hurrying back to the car to help unload. “If I have to hire movers I won’t make any money at all and we’re running short on time and- Holy mother of God!”
My gaze landed on Cupcake, face up, eyes wide open, and dead as Lincoln right there in Hollis’s trunk. 

     KiKi and I stared, neither of us breathing. KiKi finally whispered, “She doesn’t look nearly as good in the pink chiffon as you do.”

     “Maybe because she has blood in her hair and is rolled up in plastic like a hotdog in a bun.” I made the sign of the cross to make up for disrespecting the dead.

     “There is that.” KiKi sounded faint and slowly slumped to the curb. We sat together holding hands, trunk still wide open like a casket at a viewing. “You wouldn’t happen to have a martini in that purse of yours, would you?”

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