Elaine Faber

http://subscribe

While the ‘tiger of war’ rages across the Pacific during WWII, eccentric, elderly Agnes Odboddy’s patriotic duties are interrupted when she finds a rat-filled shoebox on her porch, her home is trashed, and she becomes the prime suspect in the Wilkey’s Market burglary.

A traveling carnival with a live tiger joins the parishioners’ Harvest Fair at The First Church of the Evening Star and Everlasting Light. When counterfeit bills turn up at the carnival, and the war bond money goes missing, Agnes’s attempts to restore her reputation and locate the money lead her into harm’s way. Then she stumbles upon a friend’s betrayal and discovers even more about carnival life and tigers than she ever bargained for.

Join Agnes Odboddy on her hysterical romp through pumpkins, war bonds, counterfeit money, and tigers. Filled with laughter and suspense, you will enjoy a bit home life during WWII and a bit of history along the way.

Amazon e-book -- $3.99     Paperback -- $16.00

https://tinyurl.com/yx72fcpx

http://Subscribe

Let’s pretend for a Subscribeminute, you’re an author seeking to unlock the secret of how to write a successful cozy mystery novel. After analysis of numerous cozy mysteries, a certain template emerges.

Your heroine must be a beautiful, blonde female, about 30 years old, recently divorced with, or without child. She must have a dog or a cat. The pet doesn’t have to solve crimes, but it helps...

Her sweetheart, (who resists a committed relationship) is somehow connected to an inept law enforcement agency, which provides access to information usually withheld from the public.

She must have a quirky sidekick, to balk at her every good intention.

She also needs an unusual profession or hobby. The best ones have already been snagged by multiple popular mystery writers. These include bookstore owners, catering services, travel agents, writers, detectives, caterers, librarians, etc.

For any hope of a successful series, our heroine needs a career or hobby that hasn’t been done to death, but gives her access to numerous nefarious criminal activities. In the end she must succumb to her own ego, use terrible judgment to expose the adversary, and at the last moment, preferably be rescued from surefire death by her boyfriend or her dog.

So, let’s see if Mrs. Odboddy and the Conniving Candidate fits the template for a successful cozy mystery.

Agnes Odboddy is an elderly, retired, WWI undercover agent, now fighting WWII from the home front. She has a cross-eyed Siamese cat and sponsors a displaced carnival tiger; though in Conniving Candidate, neither is called upon to rescue her from a death-defying situation.

She is engaged to a retired FBI agent, and her good friend is inept Chief Waddlemucker, Newbury's Police Department. By virtue of her determination to bring all Nazi spies or conspiracies to heel, the unusual job or hobby category works. The need for a quirky sidekick is covered by her granddaughter, Katherine, who lives with her and works as a beautician at the Curls to Dye For Beauty Salon and moonlights at the Whistlemeyer Mortuary doing hair and makeup for the ‘dearly departed.’

In this fifth Mrs. Odboddy mystery/adventure, Mrs. Odboddy and the Conniving Candidate, whimsical and unpredictable Mrs. Odboddy runs for a vacant Newbury City Council seat. Her political opponent is a scoundrel who will stop at nothing to discourage her from continuing the campaign. Multiple issues arise that would convince any normal person to ‘thrown in the towel,’ but not Agnes.

In the intriguing subplot, Katherine’s ex-fiancé, having left her at the altar the previous year, returns, to declare his undying love. When he helps overcome multiple problems, how can Katherine kick him to the curb?

Of course, there is a death-defying final scene, when Agnes attempts to put an end to the skullduggery that challenges her campaign and threatens her family.

So, for a successful cozy mystery, I think it works! What do you think?

Black Cat and the Accidental Angel

An excerpt from a novel by Elaine Faber

What on earth? Thumper lifted his head to peer through the wires of the carrier. For as far as his eyes could see–nothing but the tops of apple trees. Where are we? Last time he’d looked, the car was on the freeway, somewhere between San Francisco and Fern Lake. Headed home.

“Owh. You’re stepping on my tail.” Noe-Noe twisted her fetching feline head and glared. “When can I get out of this wretched carrier?”

Thumper shifted his weight. “Sorry, my precious. Won’t be long now.” The SUV hit another pothole, rocking the cat carrier on the back seat. It clunked against the passenger door.

He lifted his nose, sniffed and pulled back his ears. Dog! How long had it been since Dorian bathed Sam? Dog swirled through the car, stirred by the air conditioner. Would someone please crack a window? He could hear Sam panting, just behind the seat in his carrier. Probably drooling all over the luggage. Noe-Noe was right. This trip couldn’t be over soon enough. “We should be home in an hour, my sweet.”

His companion appeared less than impressed. “Owh! Move over. You’ve got your foot in my stomach.” Noe-Noe laid her head on the blanket and closed her eyes.

Poor thing. She’s exhausted. She certainly wasn’t the sweet kitty he’d fallen in love with in Texas, but then he couldn’t blame her for being cranky after five hours on the plane and another hour and a half hours on the road. Thumper scooted closer to the hard side wall on the carrier and tried to get comfortable.

Noe-Noe opened her eyes. “I had no idea it was so far to Fern Lake. I’ve changed my mind.” She stood and rocked with the swaying car. “Tell Brett to stop this car and let me out. I want to go home.”

Thumper turned toward Noe-Noe. Yowww! “You want to go home now? How do you think you’d get there? Fly? You’re a cat, not a bird!” As if he could tell Brett to stop the car, anyway. His person had never taken driving instruction from him before, not likely he’d start now.

“Maybe this was a mistake. Why did you make me come with you? ” Noe-Noe scrunched her ears and gave him a swat.

“Cut that out. What do you mean, I made you come? You begged me not to leave you behind. Lucky for you, Kimberlee brought you along. Now scoot over. You’re taking up three-quarters of the space.”

“Am not. Move your own fat black butt. You’re poking me. I’m already up against the wall…”

Thumper reached up to scratch his left ear. That blasted dog. I better not have a flea on me. Go back to sleep. It won’t be long now.”

Thumper peeked through the wire door. Outside, the tops of trees whizzed past on both sides of the road.

The screech of brakes and crunching metal filled the car. What the…? The SUV lurched. It careened. Swayed back and forth, flinging the back passenger door open.

Thumper pitched forward. His body collided against Noe-Noe as the carrier toppled from the car. It crashed onto the asphalt, and then plummeted end over end down the twenty-foot embankment. Metal grating against metal drowned out Noe-Noe’s shrieks. The world tipped upside down, then right side up. His world tilted and reeled as the carrier tumbled down, down past the wall of rocks. Noe-Noe?

Wham! His head whacked hard against the wall.

The carrier rocked to the side, and then lurched to a stop. The scent of rotten apples made his stomach turn. A fine mist of dust rose up and drifted in through the wire. He moaned and tried to lift his head. Everything went black.

To read more about Thumper and Noe Noe’s adventure, purchase the e-book Black Cat and the Accidental Angel     http://tinyurl.com/y4eohe5n (3.99)

In 1943, elderly sleuth, Agnes Odboddy, carries a 'package' to Pres. Roosevelt cross country by train, expecting Nazi spies to try and steal her package....

Agnes hurried down the train aisle before anyone else could beat her to the washroom. After brushing her teeth, washing her face, and smearing cold cream across her face, Agnes glanced into the mirror. She chuckled, noting that the cold cream made her face resemble a clown. Mid-chuckle, her smile faded. My purse! She’d left it in her berth, with the secret documents for President Roosevelt inside!

Agnes threw open the bathroom door and plunged down the aisle, cold cream still smeared over her face. What had she done? Oh, Lord above. Protect this idiot from her foolish ways.

The empty berth shrieked condemnation for her carelessness and neglect. Her purse was gone.

Oh, nooooo! Where was the porter who was supposed to be on guard, watching their belongings?

Agnes raced toward the far end of the car and found the porter, his head lolled to the side, his chair tipped back against the wall, sound asleep.

“Porter! Wake up!”

The young man jerked. The legs of his chair slammed to the floor. He jumped to his feet, his eyes blinking. “Yes, ma’am?” He touched his cap, his eyes wild, scanning from left to right. As he came to full wakefulness, he peered at Agnes, her cold-creamed face contorted in rage. His eyes looked like black marbles floating in pools of milk. He stepped back, his trembling hands outstretched. “I’s sorry. I won’t do it again!”

“Porter! Did you see someone getting into my berth? I’m the second one from the end.” Agnes pointed down the aisle.

The porter’s face turned several shades lighter. “No, ma’am. Sorry ma’am. I…I… I’m afraid I fell asleep.” He hung his head. “Are you going to tell my boss?” He lifted his head. “Is you a ghost?”

Agnes reached up and touched her cheek. “Oh, my goodness!” I didn’t even wash my face. No wonder I scared the living daylights out of him. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped at her cheeks. “I left the bathroom in such a hurry… But, then I discovered my purse missing from my berth!” Her heart raced as she uttered the dreadful words. And vanity clouded my good judgment! I’m such a fool.

His mouth trembled. Was he more concerned about her purse or getting caught sleeping on the job? “Missing? You’re sure you didn’t misplace it?” He hurried down the aisle toward her berth.

Agnes followed on his heels.

The porter yanked back Agnes’s curtain and glanced around her bed. Only the Bible lay on her pillow–.

The porter slid the suitcases from side to side and tossed the pillow to the other end of the bed. “Have you checked in your suitcase?”

“Don’t you think I’d remember if I put it in my suitcase?” Agnes huffed. What kind of an idiot does he think I am? On the other hand, what kind of an idiot was she to leave her purse sitting on the bed with secret documents inside and run around the train with cold cream smeared on her face? Chill bumps raced up her arms as the realization of the loss hit home. She had failed the President of the United States of America on the first day out the door. She blinked to hold back tears as the porter rifled through both of her suitcases.

“Can you describe it, ma’am? What was inside?”

Agnes shrugged. “It was black…um…well, never mind what it contained. It had my wallet and my money and…and…my train ticket and passport.” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

“I’ll question the passengers before report it to the conductor.” The porter’s face contorted again.

Weren’t they two of a kind? Both brought low by their own carelessness. “I’ll finish up in the washroom while you look.”

The porter nodded and hurried off, leaving Agnes to return to her interrupted ablutions.

Agnes washed the cold cream from her face and stared into the washroom mirror. The wrinkles in her forehead had deepened over the past few minutes and the sparkle that folks said she carried in her eyes seemed to have abandoned ship.

Agnes straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. She gave her hair a final pat and stepped out the washroom door, climbed into her bunk and pulled the curtain. She laid her head back on the pillow, clutched the Bible to her chest and began to pray.

See entire novel at Amazon  http://tinyurl.com/jn5bzwb   EBOOK - $3.99

Thumper, the cat in the Black Cat Mysteries, is best described as having human emotions, thoughts, ideas, and knowledge but only the capabilities of a cat.

Black Cat’s Legacy, Thumper has waited at the lodge for someone to return to solve the 25- year- old cold case murder. With the aid of his ancestors’ memories, he points out clues to help Kimberlee and her associates solve the mystery. Of course, someone stands in the way and creates chaos. Throw in a bit of romance and intrigue, a touch of espionage and a smidgen of fantasy and you have a real page turner.

Thumper plays a bigger POV role in the sequel, Black Cat and the Lethal Lawyer. By meeting his soul-mate, Noe-Noe, a cream tabby with eyes the color or mustard and stripes the color of marigolds, he has opportunity for more POV scenes and humorous conversations. Set on a Texas horse ranch, Thumper must stop a killer bent on harming Grandmother, even though she has her own wicked agenda.

In the novel, Black Cat and the Accidental Angel Thumper and Noe-Noe are left behind following an MVA. Thumper suffers a head injury and memory loss. For whatever reason, Noe-Noe says, “Call me Angel. I’m here to take care of you,” refusing to share their previous life or either of their real names. What follows is a journey where Thumper, now called Black Cat in their new home on an Emu farm, experiences a spiritual journey of human emotions that include fear, loss, grief, shame, faith, jealousy, despair and joy as he learns, with the assist of divine intervention, that there are more important things than knowing your own name. (yes…there is an angel)

Black Cat and the Secret in Dewey’s Diary  . This is a dual story with Black Cat and Angel facing difficulties back in their hometown, and an unsolved murder affecting one of the main characters. Meanwhile, Kimberlee and Dorian follow clues found in a WWII soldier’s diary, sending them to Austria to search for a missing treasure in stolen gold coins. Of course, someone is determined to beat them to the prize, putting Kimberlee in danger.

The fourth Black Cat mystery is on the drawing board, TBP probably in 2025. Back to Eagle Pass, Texas, the illegal border issues creates murder and havoc involving a kidnapped immigrant child, illegal drugs, and a disputed inheritance over  Grandma's will! Oh my!

The Story Behind the Story of Black Cat and the Secret in Dewey’s Diary

In 1987, my daughter, Londa Faber, and I went to Austria and Germany. While there, we experienced a number of peculiar events and heard an odd tale of folklore that inspired me to write a poem…

The key to the treasure is in Hopfgarten.

Touch the feet of the babe that lies beneath the king,

In the place where the storm clouds…

Are frightened away by the ring.

Over the years, I wrote three fictionalized short stories based on the sights, sounds, scenery, feelings and insights we experienced in Austria. Black Cat and the Secret in Dewey’s Diary includes true elements of our experiences mixed with the fictional story in this full-length cozy mystery novel. The poem I wrote that sleepless night became the catalyst for the story of the secret in Dewey's diary.

Black Cat and The Secret in Dewey’s Diary is a dual tale, with half of the story taking place in Fern Lake where Black Cat and Angel face challenges aplenty, and the other half of the story in Austria and Germany as Dorian and Kimberlee follow the clues in a WWII soldier’s diary, searching for a treasure in gold coins, missing since short after the end of WWII.

Amazon e-book $3.99

https://tinyurl.com/vgyp89s

Elaine’s Website –http://www.mindcandymysteries.com

Email your questions or comments to Elaine.Faber@mindcandymysteries.com

Amazon reviews are welcomed.

Mrs. Odboddy Hometown Patriot is FREE at AMAZON from today, 05-25-24 through 05-29-24. Below is an edited excerpt from Mrs. Odboddy's encounter with a Japanese air balloon while she stands duty at an ocean watchtower.  Download the novel for free at  http://tinyurl.com/hdbvzsv (Reg. price $3.99 ebook).

Agnes put binoculars to her eyes again. An air balloon? Round and white, not like the popular passenger air balloons she’d seen at the county fair. Maybe a weather balloon, blown off course?

Closer now.

Long ropes connected a conglomeration of tangled thing-a-ma-bobs hanging from a wheel-shaped device beneath the balloon. Two small sandbags dislodged from the device and plummeted into the ocean. With their release, the balloon made a sharp ascent, veered slightly and then dipped again—its descent now on a direct trajectory toward the watch tower.

She grabbed the microphone. “Station thirty-two, coast watch. Over.” Hurry, hurry! Answer, hang it!

“Station thirty-two. Go ahead. Over.”

“I’ve sighted what appears to be a giant white air balloon, descending slowly, about 700 feet elevation, approximately one-quarter mile off shore. At this  rate, it will likely reach shore fairly close to my location within two or three minutes. Umm…over!”

“An air balloon? Are you sure? hold on.” Excited broken words crackled in the background. “Explosives…government…black-out…ocean…”

“Station thirty-two. Keep an eye on it. We’re sending troops ASAP. Over.”

“But, what is it? What—?”

“Sorry, ma’am. Top-secret. I’m not at liberty to discuss…. If it lands, give us a—”

“What do you mean you can’t discuss it? How can it be top secret? I’m staring at it with my two bald eyes. It’s less than a quarter of a mile away, headed directly toward the watch tower. What should I—”

“If it lands on the beach anywhere near you, get out of there. It may explode on impact.”

“Explode? Thanks a bunch.” The giant contraption still descended, fifteen feet wide and over seventy feet tall, including the ropes and the device below. A bomb hung beneath the circular device. Agnes’s heart pummeled. If she left the watch tower, she could reach her car and drive away before the thing landed. Desert her post? Not on your tin-type! No way would she let the enemy steal her car and sneak into town to raise havoc. If there was a Japanese gunman on board, she’d have to deal with him. But, how?

What would Ellery Queen do? She drew herself up to her full five foot, one and three-eighths inches and glared through the binoculars.

The air balloon was closer now, its outline and features clearly visible. The radio technician said explosive—that it might explode on impact. The air current was blowing it directly toward the watch tower!

Agnes grabbed the microphone. “Station thirty-two. Abandoning post! Over and out!”

Enjoy an edited excerpt from Mrs. Odboddy And Then There was a Tiger.

A stringent odor stirred Agnes to consciousness. Wild, earthy.

Where am I? Straw tickled her cheek. I must be in a barn.

Why hadn’t her abductor tied her up? He’d knocked her unconscious and used chloroform.

She would have to rely on her brilliant crime-fighting faculties if she was to get out of this alive. She struggled to sit up and put her hand to her head. Still dizzy, but clearing.

Brrrumm… Brrrumm

What was that sound? She shivered in the chill air and tilted her head to listen. It sounded almost like something scratching in the corner, like someone… or something… moving around in the darkness.

The light from the moon revealed the faintest outline of something vertical near her face… She reached and closed her fingers around a steel bar. A quick movement seven inches to the left and her hand smacked into another steel bar. She was in a cage! An animal cage? A stab of panic shot through her chest. She could almost see the front page of tomorrow’s Newbury Daily Gazette now. It is with a heavy heart we announce that Agnes Odboddy, almost regular attendee at The First Church of the Evening Star and Everlasting Light, exemplary citizen and unparalleled volunteer for causes both large and small, was eaten alive by a wild animal.

No one would think she was kidnapped and foully murdered. Maybe someone would wonder why she had willingly entered an animal cage, but knowing the daft stunts she had pulled in the past, they would not wonder long.

Now, how to defend herself against a wild animal? She pulled a silver chopstick from her hair. Stainless steel and sharp, it would be a lethal weapon against a human, but wasn’t very effective against a wild beast.

Brrrumm… Brrrumm…

That noise again from the corner! She scrambled to her feet, holding the chopstick in front of her. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Waves of dizziness threatened to send her spinning again. Not now. Stay strong, Agnes. Don’t give up! She took a step forward, ready to fight to the death, but her wretched body defied her best intentions. Which way was up and which down? Her legs felt like noodles. Not now! Not now! The strong smell of animal urine assailed her nostrils. And then, the edges of her consciousness turned to black.

Slurp…  Slurp…

The ringing in her ears subsided. The blackness faded, consciousness returned… then panic as she became aware of a sandpaper-like sensation rasping across her neck… her cheek… her mouth. Instantly awake, her hand flew to her wet face.

The clouds had thinned and in the ensuing moonlight, the faint outline of a giant tiger, not six inches from her face! The knot in her throat tightened. Sure that her life was measured in seconds, the prayer of every Christian at the moment of death came to mind. Lord, forgive this sinner and open the pearly gates.

She scrabbled through the straw, searching for the chopstick she had dropped when she fainted. Unable to locate the chopstick, she scrambled to her feet. What good would the tiny scrap of metal do, anyway? If she was destined to be the beast’s dinner, he’d accomplish the deed whether standing with a chopstick in her hand or on her knees, mumbling in prayer.

Brrrumm… Brrrumm…

Why did it sounded so content? Was the tiger tickled at the prospect of chasing down a live meal, instead of finding it on the end of a stick?

She’d have to fight the beast bare-handed.

The creature moved forward, and threw back his head. RRROWWW!!

****

Amazon  $3.99 e-book http://tinyurl.com/yx72fcpx

My latest published novel, Spirit Woman Legends and Lies is now available at Amazon for just $3.99 (e-book). (https://tinyurl.com/ym2t37yy)

The Spirit Woman and her mountain lion companion are once again sighted in the hills near Lockleer Mountain.

Shortly after Joe and his brother, Cyrus, quarrel over the ownership of a winning million-dollar lottery ticket, Cyrus’s mutilated body is found in the mountains, ravaged by the local wildlife.

When stolen hospital drugs are found in the dead man’s home, murder is suspected. Sighting of the Spirit Woman and her mountain lion are once again seen in the nearby mountains. Has she returned to aid the troubled town? And, surely there is enough trouble to warrant her return.

Lou Shoemaker, owner of the local sewer truck, the Pooper Scooper, befriends Rosita Ramirez, a transient with two children, who came to Lockleer Mountain to sell tamales. Soon, gossip erupts about Rosita and the local Baptist pastor. The church deacons fear the gossip will discourage the membership and destroy the church. Deputy Nate and Sheriff Peabody must find and expose a killer and track down the perpetrator of the gossip, or the pastor will be forced to leave the church.

Will the Spirit Woman and her companions resolve the troubles that plague the rural community?

Based on a true account written by a rescue worker and his dog, the following is an 'outtake' from my cozy mystery novel, Black Cat's Legacy that never made it into the final version. Black Cat's Legacy is FREE at Amazon 08-07-23 through 08-11-23. http://tinyrul.com/lrvevgm

****

Dorian and her Search and Rescue dog, Sam, are called to Oklahoma City following the bombing of the Alfred Murrah Bldg in 1995.

Dorian’s Search and Rescue team heard of the Oklahoma bombing and immediately flew from Northern CA to Oklahoma to assist in search and rescue operations.

At the bombing site, Dorian and Sam were taken to the nursery area where day care was provided for the workers' babies and toddlers.  It was an area hardest hit by the blast and there were few survivors among the children who had been in attendance that day.

Where children once played as their parents worked, a pile of rubble stood several stories high with twisted beams, shards of glass, aluminum, wood and chunks of metal and concrete slabs protruding in all directions.  Beneath the rubble laid the remains of the babies and their caregivers.

Sam and other rescue dogs were directed to cross the rubble to search for any sign of victims, or should God be merciful, a survivor.  The rescue dogs could wiggle into places where grown men could not reach. Sam was trained to whine when he found a dead body and bark if he found a survivor. On that sad day he did not bark….

When one of the dogs gave the alert by either a bark or whine, the frantic rescue workers would concentrate on removing blocks of concrete or twisted steel in a rescue attempt. Unfortunately, when the victim was reached, inevitably an orange plastic body bag would be passed down the line of workers into the pit of twisted rubble. The little broken body of a child would be lifted out and placed into a basket and sober rescue workers would respectfully carry it to the morgue truck where parents waited and prayed for news of their child. The same sad scene was repeated throughout the day and the next, as multiple children were located. Each time a body was brought up from beneath the rubble, a mother’s heart would soar with hope and then plunge into despair when her child was identified.

Further into the building and away from the demolished section of building, a rescue dog located a survivor, buried deep in the rubble. Attempts were underway to clear the area where the young woman was trapped beneath mounts of cement and rubble. There came a call from the temporary command station, announcing that everyone must evacuate the site because another incendiary device had been discovered. The rescuers explained to the victim they had to leave her but would return as soon as they were able. She begged them not to leave her alone. Sadly, they left her trapped beneath the rubble, not knowing if they would be able to return or if another blast would ultimately take her life.  Imagine her terror as the hours passed, realizing that rescue was near but at any moment, she could die. It was several hours before the bomb scare was declared a false alarm and the rescuers returned and successfully removed her from her cement and metal prison. Thankfully, the young woman survived.

Pieces of falling debris made the area unsafe and Dorian and her fellow teammates wore helmets while they crawled among the dangerous rubble directing their dogs back and forth.  Sam went repeatedly into areas felt to be unsafe for human rescuers. Each time he ventured into such an area, he put his life at risk for the sake of those people trapped below.

By the end of the day, Sam was coughing and sneezing from the dust and pollution in the air. Though Dorian wore a mask to cover her face and protective gear for her hands and feet, Sam worked all day breathing the foul air and walking on sharp shards of concrete rubble without the benefit of any protective gear.  In the afternoon, Sam was sent to a mobile SPCA van.  Volunteer veterinarian staff washed his eyes and ears and put healing lotion on his cracked and bleeding feet.

Though Dorian and Sam would have stayed longer, the directors of the rescue mission felt the physical and emotional drain was too much for a dog and handler to volunteer longer than a single day.  Many other volunteers and dogs from across the country came and took their place in the following days, repeating their rescue efforts until the rubble was cleared and the last body was removed.

Sam was a true unsung hero as he risked his life in an attempt to save others on one of America’s darkest days.