FREE Links for Apps to Download Ebooks!

With Ampichellis Ebooks, I'm working to make my books available digitally to as many readers as possible. Don't have a Kindle or Nook? Not a problem! Here are links for free application software so that you can read all the Whiskey Mattimoe (as well as my paranormal Homefree series) books on your computer or smart phone:

Kindle app for PC

http://tinyurl.com/6l9fpg4

Kindle app for mac

http://tinyurl.com/yk4vcw7

Barnes and Noble Nook for PC

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/u/nook-for-pc/379002322

Barnes and Novel Nook for mac

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/u/free-nook-apps/379002321/

Free Kobo ap for PC or mac

http://kobobooks.com/desktop

Want to read novels on your smart phone?

Android Phone

http://tinyurl.com/2bwt7j8

Iphone

http://tinyurl.com/2d342hv

Where to Find Whiskey Mattimoe Mysteries!

Hello, Readers! Yes, finally--I'm writing the sixth Whiskey Mattimoe Mystery, due out next year. Thanks for your interest in what's happening to Whiskey and her Afghan hound Abra in Magnet Springs, Michigan.

Meanwhile, you can buy the first five Whiskey Mattimoe mysteries as economical ebooks--on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and OmniLit. Scroll down for links to each title:

on Amazon

Whiskey and Water http://tinyurl.com/3g6pyzo

Whiskey on the Rocks http://tinyurl.com/3m54b4c

Whiskey and Tonic http://tinyurl.com/4yakvqy

Whiskey Straight Up http://tinyurl.com/3vmnpsd

Whiskey With a Twist http://tinyurl.com/3bgmfga

on Barnes & Noble

Whiskey and Water http://tinyurl.com/3jufag6

Whiskey on the Rocks http://tinyurl.com/3qy5jdw

Whiskey and Tonic http://tinyurl.com/3gtathr

Whiskey Straight Up http://tinyurl.com/3lz9hvw

Whiskey With a Twist http://tinyurl.com/3ojjekw

at Kobo Bookstore

Whiskey and Water http://tinyurl.com/44xzhss

Whiskey on the Rocks http://tinyurl.com/3bs3kmc

Whiskey and Tonic http://tinyurl.com/3zq7dt3

Whiskey Straight Up http://tinyurl.com/3rnr7cx

Whiskey With a Twist http://tinyurl.com/3gpgqls

at OmniLit Bookstore

Whiskey and Water http://www.omnilit.com/product-whiskeyandwater-543195-237.html

Whiskey on the Rocks http://www.omnilit.com/product-whiskeyontherocks-521424-237.html

Whiskey and Tonic http://www.omnilit.com/product-whiskeyandtonic-521426-237.html

Whiskey Straight Up http://www.omnilit.com/product-whiskeystraightup-521425-237.html

Whiskey With A Twist http://www.omnilit.com/product-whiskeywithatwist-571794-237.html

It's a Birthday Interview!

Hey, check out my birthday interview on the Writers Who Kill blog!

What Would Whiskey Want for Christmas?

Whiskey Mattimoe is a Michigan real estate broker who runs her own agency and runs after her errant Afghan hound. In terms of her business, we can guess what she wants for Christmas. It’s what we all want: a solid economic recovery.

What Whiskey wants for Christmas on a personal level is a little more complicated. No matter which book in the five-book series we drop in on, Whiskey needs someone to babysit her felonious Afghan hound, Abra. Whiskey has relied on her young neighbor Chester, her stepdaughter’s nanny (and Coast Guard Damage Control Specialist) Deely Smarr, and anyone else foolish enough to volunteer—once. So that item is always on Whiskey’s wish list.

In any book, if Whiskey could have her way, she’d wish for her late husband Leo to be alive and well at her side. Since that’s not going to happen, Whiskey wishes for someone else to come along and light up her world. In Whiskey and Water and Whiskey with a Twist, someone does come along—or should I say, come again. Whiskey’s ex-husband Jeb Halloran finds his way back into her heart, or at least her bedroom. But Whiskey is left ruminating on that old saw, “Be careful what you wish for.”

As her author, I know Whiskey almost as well as she knows herself although she does occasionally surprise me. Here’s what I wish for Whiskey Mattimoe this Christmas:

5) A new hairstylist. If I can learn to manage unruly curls with the right cut, so can Whiskey.

4) A wardrobe with less beige and more bling.

3) An ample stock of Pinot Noir so that she won’t end up drinking scotch, which always gets her in trouble.

2) A way to lure Deely Smarr into working for her again. Whiskey’s going to need a nanny, and not just for Abra.

And the Number One gift I would wish for Whiskey is . . .

1) One more phone call to Jeb. Read Whiskey with a Twist all the way to the end, and you'll know what I mean.

Wait! Sorry. I have another gift to add to her list. I wish Whiskey Mattimoe many more adventures and much more laughter. Exactly what I wish my readers.

As for what Abra wants for Christmas . . . that's another story entirely.

P.S. The first two Whiskey Mattimoe mysteries (and their cool new covers) are now available on Kindle and Nook. Whiskey Straight Up is a wicked wintry romp, complete with blizzards and deadly plunges through the ice. A perfect fireside read.

Your Pet's Top Ten Requests

1. Take a little time every day to give me your total attention. My life is likely to last 10-15 years, and my happiest moments are spent with you.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me. I really do like to please you.

3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long, and don’t isolate me as punishment. You have your work, your friends, and your entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

7. Before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet I choose not to.

8. Before you scold me for being “bad,” ask yourself if something might be troubling me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I’ve been in the sun too long, or I didn't hear you.

9. Take care of me when I grow old and frail. The same fate awaits you.

10. On the ultimate difficult journey, please be at my side. Everything is easier if you are with me.

Take a moment today to thank God for the animals in your life.

Enjoy them, and take good care of them.

We don't have to reach Heaven to find endless love.

Heaven is here on earth, and it has four legs!

A slightly different version landed in my inbox. Feel free to pass along this link! Blessings to you and your four-leggers from me and mine. --Nina

Midwest Humble

If you, like Whiskey Mattimoe and me, come from the nation's heartland, you may be Midwest humble.

If you’re from the North, South, East or West, or from another country altogether, you may still know what I’m talking about.

Obvious But Essential Disclaimer: Everyone from the heartland is not humble; nor is humility peculiar to Midwesterners. But the vast majority of my peers and I grew up believing we’re just regular folk who need to work hard, get along, and try not to attract too much attention to ourselves.

What makes “Midwest humble” distinct from qualities instilled elsewhere in the U.S.? I gave this a lot of thought during my two years in Dallas, Texas, one of America’s Great Cities and about as cosmically removed from Midwest humble as it’s possible to be. Although I met and worked with hundreds of people in Dallas, the ones who instantly put me at ease were fellow transplants from the part of the world where I grew up. Yup. I got nothin’ against native Texans, Oklahomans, Arkansans or Louisianans; in fact I love to listen to them. But I was irresistibly drawn to folks from Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan, Indiana and Ohio. We embraced each other, not only because we talked alike and were outnumbered. We were also outshone. A few reasons why:

1) Some Midwest humble folks of the female persuasion, including me, occasionally go out in public sans make-up and carefully coiffed hair. We may even wear a hat on a cold night, which is guaranteed to give you hat-head when you remove it. Horror of horrors.

2) Our vocabulary lacks a vital word: “y’all.” I am totally serious on this point. “Y’all” means so much more than Midwesterners can immediately grasp. It is an economical yet precise and emphatic way of expressing inclusion, as in “All y’all need to move y’all’s cars.” This word is so useful that I tried to adopt it; unfortunately, I never became fluent.

3) We humble Midwesterners may demonstrate insufficient devotion to a Texas team and find ourselves unable to defend our position. An airport shuttle driver demanded to know what kind of emergency could possibly take me out of Dallas on the eve of the Texas-Oklahoma football game. He was serious; I was speechless. He scorned me.

Whiskey Mattimoe kicks herself now and then for being too Midwest humble. This usually happens in the presence of a character more confident and eloquent. It always happens in the presence of a well-tended woman oozing sex appeal. Although Whiskey knows her way around the boudoir, her author is aware that this protagonist could use a few lessons in seduction. Maybe she needs to spend a couple years in Texas. I could hook her up. . . .

See Whiskey fall in lust for the first time since her husband died: Whiskey on the Rocks, now available on Nook and Kindle.

Zen and the Art of Catching a Cat

Myth: If a cat escapes, you can catch it.
Fact: You can try.

The following true story is about a Devon rex cat named Redford. Most of what happens in this story could happen to any indoor cat who decided to go for a test run in the Great Outdoors; the difference is that Devons may be a little faster and more devious. They’re definitely stranger looking.

In case you’re unfamiliar with the breed, Devons come in every possible feline color, including Siamese points; however, they lack a topcoat. That doesn’t mean they’re bald—ugh—like sphinxes. (Apologies to sphinx aficionados, but I don’t want a cat that can get sunburned.) Devons have only a short wavy undercoat that doesn’t shed and feels like warm flannel. A wet Devon looks just like a dry Devon, only darker—a truth I discovered when my first Devon elected to join me in the bathtub. As for the rest of their appearance: large oval eyes, oversized wide-set ears, a heart-shaped face, an expressive tail, dainty paws, and a compact muscular body covered by rippling fur. They look like elves . . . or cats from outer space.

Disclosure: Over the years I’ve rescued “mutt” cats and acquired a few purebreds, too, yet Devon rexes remain my favorites. Which means I probably deserve whatever they do to me. In an attempt to balance the scales, I invented a truly naughty Devon rex named Yoda for my Whiskey Mattimoe mystery series. He combines the most annoying qualities of every Devon I’ve ever known, which list includes scaling people as if they were mountains, adhering to human necks, and setting wall art askew as an attention-getting tactic. Whiskey can’t stand Yoda, but her animal-loving sidekick-neighbor-kid Chester adores him.

Time for that true story I promised you.

First, one more disclosure: This story is also about a dear man named Coach who used to be indifferent to cats until he met a Devon rex. Now he’s completely befuddled by cats.

A few Sundays ago, I was on the return loop of a long leisurely walk, which took me through the state recreation area near my home. I was also talking on my cell phone to a friend in a faraway state. As my friend was concluding a complicated story, my phone signaled that I had an incoming call from Coach. Understanding the nature of the narrative arc, this storyteller was loathe to interrupt her friend’s dramatic denouement. So I let the call go. Coach immediately phoned again. My friend was waxing eloquent; ergo, I let the second call go. But when Coach phoned a third time, I knew I had to pick up.

“You need to get home!” Coach panted.

His breathlessness alarmed me because Coach is much older than I am; I imagined heart attack, stroke, or a fall down a flight of stairs.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. But Redford is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Out the back door. I think he pried it open.”

This wouldn’t be the first time Redford had exited the house onto the deck or into the connecting garage. But getting all the way outside was a major advance . . . in the wrong direction. Coach had been known to make Redford’s escape easy by failing to securely latch said door.

This was no time for recriminations. I let Coach fill in the operative facts.

“The door was standing wide open when I came into the kitchen, so I checked outside. Redford saw me and ducked into the bushes. I chased him along the side of the condo, and then I . . . lost him.”

“Lost him? You mean he’s not in the bushes now?”

“Well, I tried to pull him out of the bushes, and he ran under the deck. I tried to coax him out of there, but he wouldn’t come, and I couldn’t reach him. So I went back inside to get that feather toy-thing he likes—and when I came out with it . . . I couldn’t see him under the deck anymore.”

I had already accelerated my walk into a jog; how I longed to break into a full trot, but lower-back issues wouldn’t permit it. Middle-age impairments notwithstanding, I could cover the distance between me and the condo in five minutes, tops. Until then, Coach was in charge.

When I arrived, he was pacing up and down the back of the building, feather toy dangling from his hand.

“I can’t see him under the deck anymore, but I don’t think he went into the woods. I don’t think he went into the woods.”

I didn’t want to think about going there, either. Our yard slopes sharply into a wooded area that quickly becomes a wetland.

Dropping to the ground I peered under the deck and realized for the first time that it connected to the neighbor’s deck, which was separated from ours only on the surface, via a latticework wall. Underneath it stretched without barrier. Way at the other end, where sunlight met shadows, I thought I saw a Devon silhouette. Then it was gone.

“He’s under there!” I exclaimed.

Calling to a cat when he’s determined to be difficult is a total waste of breath; of course, I did it anyway. Scooting around to the neighbor’s end of the connecting decks, I hit the ground again and peered underneath. There was now no sign of Redford although I discovered our teen neighbor’s stash of beer, cigarettes, and dope. A door creaked open behind me.

“Uh, did you, like, lose something?”

Since moving in a few months earlier, I had never seen the teen neighbor up close. He sported enormous pupils and a shambling gait. Not a zombie, he was a stoner.

I explained that my indoor cat was now outdoors, way in the back under this side of the deck. The teen, whose name turned out to be Nathan, gave the matter slow thought.

“Well . . . I could, like, jump up and down. On the deck,” he suggested. “That might scare him out.”

Gratefully I embraced the notion. Coach and I took positions on the exit side of the deck, knees bent, arms out, ready for cat retrieval.

Here’s what happened: Nathan jumped. Redford zipped straight past us into the woods.

Eventually, I lured him back up the tree-covered slope so that I could tackle him and drag him home. But that didn’t happen any time soon. And it wasn’t accomplished by doing anything other than waiting where he could see me. I sat on the ground, thankful that most of the leaves had left the trees so that I could visually track my cat. I watched while Redford zig-zagged in maddeningly slow motion, occasionally glancing up to make sure Mom was paying attention. Even when he finally wandered close enough for me to launch myself at him, the little jerk veered back toward the swamp. By then, I didn’t care who got hurt, just as long as I got Redford home. I pitched myself full-force on top of him. He yowled, I cursed; I still have the scratches to show for it.

Coach, who had never seen a cat in an agitated state, wondered what was wrong with Redford’s tail. You feline-fans know what I’m talking about: the tail puffed up like a plume, and the rest of his coat also inflated impressively. Redford looked, for a moment, like a normal cat rather than the wavy-coated alien devil I know, love, and am willing to outwait, even on my tush, even on the cold damp ground.

Whiskey Updates: Cheers from the Land of the Great Lakes!

Big Move from The Big D

This has been an exciting year, and it keeps getting better. Recently I moved from The Big D—Dallas, that is—back to my beloved homeland along the Great Lakes. You may have spotted me on a bike path, gaping at blue skies, fiery trees, and shining water. Yup, I'm the one with the flying auburn hair and the red baseball cap. And the nonstop smile. ;^}

I’m enthralled by my first Midwest autumn in far too long! In fact, I may be at risk of overdosing—if not on the intoxicating colors and aromas, then on the seasonal festivals with their edible treats. Mmmm. How much cider and donuts can one girl consume?

Didn't Hear Back from Me?

The only downside of my cross-country relocation was a small glitch in my email system. If you emailed me through my website and haven’t heard back, please send again. I never fail to reply unless the ether eats my email, which it recently did. I hate missing a communication from a reader. So sorry for the inconvenience.

Oh--you know I'm on Facebook, right?

Whiskey in E-Form: Coming soon through Ampichellis Ebooks!

Heads up: Those of you looking for Whiskey in an ebook (and I know you’re out there!) will soon be able to buy the first three mysteries (Whiskey on the Rocks, Whiskey Straight Up, and Whiskey and Tonic) online through Ampichellis Ebooks. Watch this blog for more info.

I recommend a cider-and-donuts break now. You know you deserve it.

P.S. Ever been "friended" by a dead man? It happened to me. Read about it on my other blog.

Not Whiskey's Bicycle

After publishing the fifth Whiskey Mattimoe mystery last year, I decided to tune up my writing instrument by crafting a play. Writing for the stage taught me most of what I know about characterization, plotting, and dialogue; thus, I was curious to see how my experience as a novelist might enhance my work as a playwright.

It's no secret that I love to ride a bike. That's one of the passions I share with the fictional Ms. Mattimoe. I embrace bicycling as a sport, a pastime, and a mode of transportation, as well as a viable form of physical and emotional therapy. A wise friend once said, "It's impossible to be depressed on a bike."

My latest play takes place on bicycles. Literally. On My Boyfriends' Bicycles--subtitled "a play on love, loss, and wheels"--was conceived for performance as either a stage play, in which actors creatively suggest that their characters are riding bicycles, or a site-specific play produced outdoors with actors using actual bicycles.

The script will have not one but two staged readings in Chicagoland this summer. I am blessed to be reunited on this project with director Richard Pahl, whose keen eye for casting and staging makes him one of the most popular auteurs along the Fox River. While in Elgin for the staged readings this summer, I'll also teach a writing workshop. So if you're in or near that part of the world, come on over! In the meantime, do what Whiskey would do on a fresh spring day: get out there and ride your bike.

On My Boyfriends' Bicycles by Nina Wright

Another Review of WHISKEY WITH A TWIST

Whiskey with a Twist: A new review in the University of Toledo Magazine:

The film Best in Show made dog show parodies popular, and Wright offers her take in the fifth installment of the Whiskey Mattimoe series. This book finds Whiskey and dog Abra in Indiana’s Amish country for an Afghan hound show, where owner and pooch serve as the special guests and examples of “worst in show.” It’s not long before the bullets fly, the bodies pile up and the supporting cast of characters from Michigan arrives to help Whiskey solve the mystery.

The title lives up to its name; be prepared for twists and shake-ups with series regulars, building to a surprise revelation that will affect Whiskey's life forever.

— Deanna Woolf

What Booklist Says About "Whiskey with a Twist"

“Fifth in a consistently appealing series, this installment continues to provide the perfect mix of cozy and dog.”

Thank you, Booklist!

Now available: Whiskey with a Twist
the wackiest and most surprising Whiskey Mattimoe mystery yet

Back Where Whiskey Began

I’ve long believed that summers are sweeter in Michigan than just about anywhere else. Happily this writer landed back in the Wolverine State in time to take a break from triple-digit temps in Texas.

My Michigan visit involves the fifth Whiskey book (as opposed to a fifth of whiskey). Like the rest of this comical cozy series, Whiskey with a Twist is set in fictional Magnet Springs, a quirkier version of the real-life coastal resort town of Saugatuck.

Whiskey with a Twist has what I call “high-surprise content.” It’s also the name of a pretty good drink—unlike the beverage that inspired Whiskey and Tonic (Book Three), a lively mystery in its own right.

The latest fictional romp features more than the usual number of plot twists, and they keep on coming all the way to the end. You can read a sample chapter and plot summary. I don’t want to give away much more than that . . . except to say that Realtor Whiskey Mattimoe bonds with her diva dog Abra the Afghan hound over an issue that even my most faithful readers couldn't foresee.

So I'm here to launch the book as well as my Nawthun vacation. To Michigan and Whiskey. Cheers!

Whiskey with a Twist: CHECK OUT Chapter One

Afghan hounds and Amish farmers? Yes. Whiskey with a Twist (Midnight Ink/Summer 2009) finds Abra and her human, Whiskey Mattimoe, at a dog show in Indiana Amish country where things go deadly wrong fast. In the fifth book of this madcap series, Whiskey's new real estate client is an Afghan hound breeder who invites Abra to the regional finals . . . as an example of how not to groom and train an Affie. True to form, Abra falls in lust with a champion and wreaks havoc in the ring. But someone is bent on pure evil: a breeder and handler are murdered, and a top dog disappears. Abra vanishes, too. Is she chasing her libido or in genuine trouble? Or, as Whiskey's loyal neighbor Chester insists, is she hot on the trail of a ruthless killer? Whiskey and crew follow paw prints and other clues to a bloody destination that's too close to home.

Wanna read the first chapter? Click here.

Whiskey with a Twist: First Review!

The first review of Whiskey with a Twist is in, and it's a tail-wagger:

“[In] Wright's frothy fifth cozy, realtor Whiskey Mattimoe enters her thieving 'diva dog' Abra in the Midwest Afghan Hound Show as the Bad Example. . . . Dog show fans will find much to grin about.”

--Publishers Weekly

Abra and I are in Wikipedia!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Afghan_hound#In_popular_culture

But I still need my own (Nina Wight) Wiki link. . . .

Plot Summary: *Whiskey with a Twist*

Here's how my editor describes Whiskey with a Twist . . .

Whiskey Mattimoe never thought the skill set of her Afghan Hound Abra—stealing purses and farting—might interest a professional dog breeder. But that's exactly what's attracted Susan Davies, who wants Abra to participate in a canine competition... as a Worst-In-Show example of how not to train an Affie.

Soon, Whiskey finds herself bored and embarrassed in Northern Indiana Amish country, watching Abra wreak havoc at the Midwest Afghan Hound Show. But when two champion pooches vanish and a handler turns up dead, the sleepy community's rustic charm disappears... along with Abra.

Praise for the Whiskey Mattimoe Mystery series:

"Sprightly humor, delightful characters (including the animals), and a nicely mixed-up plot make this an entertaining debut." —Library Journal (starred review)

Nina Wright (Dallas, Texas) is an award-winning playwright and novelist. In addition to the Whiskey Mattimoe mystery series, she's the author of Homefree and Sensitive (both Flux) and other fiction for adults and younger readers. Wright also leads workshops in writing and the creative process.

Whiskey with a Twist: Available for pre-order!

Invited to a regional dog show as an example of how not to groom and train an Aghan hound, Abra leads her human--amateur sleuth and wayward Realtor Whiskey Mattimoe--straight into murder and mayhem. . . .

The most hilarious book to date in this rollicking series is the perfect gift for readers who love mysteries, laughter, dogs, and/or real estate. Now available for pre-order at Amazon!

Whiskey on the Rocks: Now Available in German!

Random House Germany is publishing Whiskey on the Rocks as Ein Ganove auf vier Pfoten (translation: A Thief on Four Feet). You can pre-order it on Amazon now.

Danke.

Whiskey and Water: Here Come the Reviews!

From Publishers Weekly:

In Wright's sprightly fourth mystery to feature Magnet Springs, Mich., realtor and sleuth Whiskey Mattimoe (after 2007's Whiskey and Tonic), one of Whiskey's duplex tenants, Twyla Rendel, whom she believed to be a struggling single mother of two, is seen by a neighbor with seven children. After Whiskey informs Twyla she faces eviction, Twyla and the children vanish. Whiskey and Magnet Springs police chief Jenx Jenkins are determined to investigate these disappearances as well as the reported sightings of Whiskey's old realtor rival, Gil Gruen, whom Whiskey saw die the previous winter. Twyla later turns up dead, but where are the children? Wright's mix of humor, crime and romance infuses this cozy with down-home zest. At the same time she makes some solid points about greed, bad parenting and real estate. (May)

From Kirkus Reviews:

A murdered woman, missing children and a possible return from the dead confound denizens of a Lake Michigan tourist town. Whiskey Mattimoe operates a successful real-estate business, but the rest of her life is in disarray. Still grieving the death of her second husband, she's providing a home for his daughter Avery, who hates her, and her twins. Her current entourage also includes Abra, an Afghan Hound, and a needy Shitzapoo puppy that her wealthy, flaky songstress neighbor Cassina has just given her, along with the chance to sell her multimillion-dollar lake cottage. Whiskey has just listed another huge estate, and her love life is heating up. Her ex-husband Jeb Halloran is back in town. She has a date with self-help author Fenton Flagg. She's attracted to MacArthur, a Scot who works for Cassina but wants to sell real estate. But things rapidly go sour. Abra runs off with Fenton's dog. One of Whiskey's tenants acquires a large number of children and then turns up dead on the beach. Even worse, there are repeated sightings of a former mayor Whiskey knows is dead. With help from friends, lovers past and present and Cassina's neglected son Chester, who can talk to dogs, Whiskey emerges from the tangled mess triumphant. Though Whiskey's fourth features a host of oddball characters, Chester and the dogs steal the show.

Next Up: Whiskey and Water

Just in time for warmer weather!

In WHISKEY AND WATER, Realtor Whiskey Mattimoe confronts a riptide, a reappearing dead mayor, and something truly frightening: a shitz-a-poo named Velcro.

Abra the Afghan hound is still lusting after Norman the Golden when, lo and behold, Whiskey finds a couple lovers of her own.

But who killed the young mother renting Whiskey's cottage? And where did all her children go?

Now available at Amazon. Read it and post your own Amazon online review.

New Review

Whiskey and Tonic

Midnight Ink, 2007
by Nina Wright

This reader bellies up to the
bar for the third installment
in the Whiskey Mattimoe
series and leaves with a happy
buzz. It’s the annual Miss
Blossom pageant in Magnet
Springs, but instead of a local beauty stealing the crown, it’s
Whiskey’s dog, Abra. Soon after, the former Miss Blossom
is found dead and the current winner is hospitalized. It’s up
to Whiskey and her friends to track down the missing dog
and discover who has it in for the Miss Blossoms. Wright’s
humorous and quirky style is entertaining. This series and its
characters seem to grow better with age, just like whiskey.

— Deanna Woolf

The University of Toledo Alumni Magazine
Winter 2008

The Way In

by Nina Wright

For three years I was glued to my chair writing one book after another on deadline. Six books, six sales. Very satisfying.

In recent months, however, my goals and my pace have changed. I’ve researched, contemplated, and started a half-dozen fiction projects unrelated to anything I’ve done before. Since I write for younger readers as well as adults, I’m continuously monitoring trends in several markets at the same time that I audition new ideas. Although the “market mindset” is necessary, I find it also potentially distracting and, worse, discouraging. Thus I’ve concluded that it’s time to stop obsessing over what sells and simply write from my heart.

Finding "the way in" is different every time. I vividly recall walking through a cemetery in Tecumseh, Michigan five years ago when I imagined a girl who saved a key from every apartment she lived in with her troubled, itinerant mother. At the time I was facing a move that seemed both inevitable and ill-advised. Notes for Homefree traveled with me and found their way into a draft that endured many revisions and submissions before it was published in 2006. The notion of the saved key survived but ended up a sidebar rather than the center of the story.

When I wrote Whiskey on the Rocks, the book that launched the Whiskey Mattimoe series, I was sharing my rural home with Lucille, a dog rescued in late pregnancy by my then-husband and me. Not remotely an Afghan hound, Lucille was a mutt with fast legs, a scary snarl and bafflingly high self-esteem. Like Abra, she had no apparent maternal instincts and a libido that wouldn't quit. She also had a propensity for chasing anything that promised misadventure. Given the slightest opening, Lucille would take off running full-tilt toward the nearest tavern, which lay on the other side of a vast soybean field. She'd ignore our calls for at least 24 hours before—I swear—she came home stinking of whiskey and cigarettes. I could never figure out what the bitch was up to. So my creativity kicked in. An old friend from college had an energetic Afghan hound; mentally I morphed the two dogs into one and added a healthy dash of imagination. The result was Abra.

What inspires me these days? Mostly, things that go wrong. Or could go wrong, or at least madly off course. Example: While I was grooming my father's cat, the feline kicked a wadded up paper toward me. It contained a confusing partial message written in a cramped hand; my father claimed he'd never seen the note before. Who wrote it, and why did the cat have it? That incident went straight into my notebook of potential story ideas. Since I’m inclined to use the most recent notions, I periodically review older entries to see whether any of those ignite sparks. When they do, it’s the lonely writer’s equivalent of Christmas.

Other ways in: Because I favor visual stimulation, once I get an idea working, I look for photos to feed it. Dozens of pictures of St. Augustine, Florida (for my teen books) and Afghan hounds (for the Whiskey books) fill my walls and computer files. My screensaver is always a slideshow related to my current projects.

Music provides another access point. Whiskey and Water, the fourth Whiskey Mattimoe mystery, was fueled by a Barenaked Ladies soundtrack. Imagining Whiskey’s first marriage set to those tunes made the writing not only easier but a helluva lot of fun. My close friends benefited, too; they got copies of BNL’s Greatest Hits.

Now and then I track my dreams, and whenever I do, something intriguing shows up. A Southern woman named Picket Pie came to me in my sleep. She explained that her name was short for Elizabeth Bye and promised she’d be back. Months later she appeared on the page as a leading character in my play Cherchez Dave Robicheaux.

All writers know that the way in is both simpler and more complicated than I make it sound here. I eavesdrop shamelessly; free-associate wildly; take lots of photos; go for long walks, swims, and bike rides; brainstorm exhaustive lists and alternate scenarios; and draft interviews, monologues, dialogues, and character bios. Sometimes I bounce ideas off friends.

What’s your way in? The key, I think, is to get out there and in there and turn off your mental critic. Put another way: “Travel boldly, listen closely, and carry a bright light.”

Book Club Questions Now Available

My publisher, Midnight Ink, has posted Book Club Discussion Questions for all three Whiskey Mattimoe mysteries. Just click here and then choose the book you wish to discuss. The questions will pop up in a convenient PDF file.

Or, if you prefer, I've got your questions right here! Scroll down this page for Discussion Starters for the book you're reading next. And remember, the fourth humorous mystery, Whiskey and Water, will be out next spring.

As always, thanks for reading and talking about Whiskey!



Book Club Questions for Whiskey on the Rocks
the first Whiskey Mattimoe mystery

1. Explain Whiskey Mattimoe’s “survivor guilt” and illustrate how it haunts her.
2. Each of the following characters draws out specific qualities in Whiskey’s own personality. Discuss: Odette Mutombo; Noonan Starr; Chester; Avery Mattimoe; Cassina; Judy “Jenx” Jenkins; Edward Santy; Wells Verbelow.
3. Explain Cassina’s “mystique.” How does it compare or contrast with her actual personality?
4. What is the appeal of the Seven Suns of Solace? Why does Whiskey shun it?
5. Given that a dog can be a man’s best friend, what is Whiskey’s problem with her dog?
6. How would you describe the town of Magnet Springs and its inhabitants?
7. Characterize Gil Gruen, using three of his own quotations or actions to support your case.
8. Would this book appeal more to dog-lovers or to people who don’t want to own a dog? Discuss.
9. Name two characters whom Whiskey cannot abide. Illustrate and explain her reactions to them.
10. Who is Balboa, and what is her role in the story?
11. Explain the significance of Whiskey’s dream in Chapter 16.
12. Specifically, how does Jane VanDam’s arrival complicate Whiskey’s life?
13. Who is Pashtoon, and what is her story?
14. Explain Mooney’s “pedigree” and how it qualifies him for his work.
15. How does a photo of Ipinima Beach affect events in this story?
16. Who are the Schlegels, and how do they contribute to the resolution?
17. Make two columns, one for Whiskey’s assets, the other for her liabilities. Which list is longer and/or more persuasive?
18. Explain Noonan’s role in the death of Dan Gallagher. Should she have stepped forward earlier? Why didn’t she?
19. Describe the tone of this novel and find your favorite passages to support your point.
20. Discuss what each of the following characters wants most: Whiskey Mattimoe; Noonan Starr; Chester; Avery Mattimoe; Cassina; Judy “Jenx” Jenkins; Odette Mutombo; Gil Gruen; Ricardo Anuncio; Ellianna Santy; Darrin Keogh; Marilee Gallagher.

Book Club Questions for Whiskey Straight Up
the second Whiskey Mattimoe Mystery

1) Against her own judgment, Whiskey hires Roy Vickers. What are the factors that drive her to do so? Do you believe people are likely to regret or resent decisions made against their own judgment? Why?

2) What do we know—and what can we predict—regarding Whiskey’s first husband, Jeb Halloran? Specifically how is he different from Whiskey’s late second husband, Leo?

3) How and why does Gil Gruen consistently attempt to humiliate Whiskey?

4) What is it about Leo that motivates Whiskey to do a number of things she wouldn’t choose to do otherwise, including provide room and board for Avery and twins? Why does Whiskey handle Avery so poorly?

5) Whiskey calls Deely Smarr “the Coast Guard nanny.” What exactly qualifies Deely for her new job?

6) What’s the story behind Fleggers and the Animal Ambulance? How are Fleggers both an advantage and an annoyance to Whiskey?

7) What is The System? Compare what you know about it to dogstrainyou-dot-com. What is your personal experience with animal-training “systems”?

8) What is your first impression of C. Richards, R.N.?

9) At what point does Chester’s absence become truly alarming?

10) What is most distressing about Brady’s find at Iberville?

11) When Deely reveals that she and the dogs found a body in the snowy night woods outside Vestige, whose corpse did you think it was? Why?

12) Why were Leah and Leo kidnapped? Does the kidnapper’s reason for the double kidnapping make her more or less sympathetic? Explain.

13) Is it fair to call Whiskey a “reluctant” heroine? Why or why not?

14) The title Whiskey Straight Up alludes not only to Whiskey’s helicopter ride but also to her efforts to do the right thing. How is this theme manifested in the book? What other characters are also “straight up”?

Book Club Questions for Whiskey and Tonic
the third Whiskey Mattimoe Mystery

1) Explain the oddities of the historic Miss Blossom pageant and why the town continues the tradition.

2) Specifically how does Whiskey end up taking care of a teen-ager with a curse on her head?

3) Analyze Whiskey’s consistent inability to keep track of kids and dogs. Why is she called upon to do both when her record is frankly abysmal?

4) Name all the canine characters appearing in this mystery and the role of each. How are the dogs like or unlike stereotypes of their breeds?

5) Why is Whiskey encouraged to do unofficial police work?

6) How capable are the professional law officers in Magnet Springs? Be specific.

7) Bleak sentimentalism was a hallmark of the Victorian era. How does that tradition shape events in this story?

8) The fact that Whiskey’s house could be overrun by stray cats is attributable to what element of her personality? In other words, how does she get into situations like that? And how does she resolve them? Does she learn anything in the process?

9) Compare and contrast Faye, Deely, and Avery.

10) Who is Whiskey’s foremost ally in this story? Explain your choice.

11) Did Nash’s revelations to Whiskey surprise you or confirm what you felt you already knew about him? Explain.

12) In your opinion, what was the most suspenseful scene at Winimar? What was the most shocking? Explain.

13) Tammi LePadanni is the Stage Mother from Hell, among other things. Have you ever heard of, or had to deal personally with, a super-competitive parent who caused problems for other people’s children? What was the real-life situation and outcome?

14) Fenton Flagg’s early book contends that people’s perceptions shape their world more than any other force can. Agree or disagree? How does that connect to this mystery?

15) Which characters in Whiskey and Tonic turn out to be most different from your initial impression of them and why?

Dogs and Angels

When I received this uplifting message in an email today, I knew I had to share it with dog lovers everywhere. Warning: It might make you cry....

This is one of the kindest things I've ever experienced. I have no way to know who sent it, but there is a kind soul working in the dead letter office of the US postal service.

Our 14 year old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so she dictated these words:

Dear God,

Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love,
Meredith.

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed "To Meredith" in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called "When a Pet Dies." Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,

Abbey arrived safely in heaven.

Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.

Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.

Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I am wherever there is love.

Love,
God

Camouflage Cat and Afghan Hound

Methinks the cat is quietly lobbying for her own series.

That may have to wait until after I write the fifth Whiskey Mattimoe mystery, now under way. Stay tuned for details....

Ya Gotta Have Sass

by Nina Wright

Now and then I tend toward the blunt and cynical.
Example: On a recent occasion when I may have been more...ahem...emotional than usual, my significant other, whom I fondly call Coach, asked why I was being "such a girl." In response, I asked why he was being such an a--hole. He calmly observed that I sound like the character I write.

"Which one?" I demanded.

Whiskey Mattimoe is hardly the girliest of girls, but she does have a mouth on her. Since she runs a real estate agency, however, she can't afford to piss everyone off. My teen protagonist Easter Hutton is more likely to let flip responses fly.

"Pick one," Coach said. "They all say what you want to say."

I started to protest, then reconsidered. Before long we were engaged in a lively discussion. Allow me to summarize:

Esprit de l’escalier. French for “staircase wit.” In everyday life, that’s the sparkling remark you wish you had thought of when you needed it but were too slow-witted to produce. In writing, it’s the power to give your characters the verbal snap and crackle you lack. Or not. Sometimes we make them mis-speak for humor, humanity, or plot activation. Both Whiskey and Easter frequently open mouth and insert foot.

Author-Protagonist Identity Fusion. No, this is not a new listing in the DSM-IV, although perhaps it should be. Authors, especially authors of series fiction, grow weary of being asked if they are their protagonists. Sue Grafton has admitted that she conceived Kinsey Milhone as a younger, braver, fitter version of herself. That’s partially true of me and Whiskey: she’s taller, braver, more athletic, and certainly more affluent than I am. But in all fairness, she lacks my brains and sophistication. Faraway friends with whom I used to spend lots of face time insist that reading the series is the next best thing to hanging out with me. I can only imagine that’s because Whiskey has a few of my questionable charms. Frankly, it’s the differences between us that keep me intrigued. My teen protagonist Easter Hutton is nearly the complete opposite of the sunny sixteen-year-old I used to be. That’s what makes her fun to write. I get to relive teen angst as a dark personality in a high-risk, paranormally charged world.

Author Personality Projection/Adjustment. Again, not a disorder. I contend that we infuse every character we write with pieces of ourselves, often neatly twisted. Although I’m inspired by real-world folks and frequently borrow dialogue or other details, I’m the final filter. Confession: my villain may be more like me, or more like what I fear, than my protagonist.

Author’s Voice. Finding our own is hard work for most of us. Reshaping it as needed for the various books (and genres) we choose to write may be even tougher. My signature voice, though distinctly different for Whiskey vs. Easter, is breezy, irreverent and direct, not unlike the way I talk. (There. I admitted it.) Yet that’s hardly the way I’ve always written. Back in grad school I believed that my future lay in writing literary novels. Oh, the poetry I churned out. I was the sensitive, articulate type. What happened, besides waking up to the reality of commerce? I dropped all pretense and wrote my essence. But I’d like to believe that I could still find the voice needed to write that literary or gothic novel. Without going back to grad school.

Although I aspire to weightier pieces, I'm mighty proud when I make people laugh. Sass beats class for readability and sheer entertainment! What are your thoughts about Author Voice and where characters come from?

Happy Halloween from this occasionally rude writer....

http://www.mrfairlessrules.blogspot.com/
http://www.ninawright.net/

Summer Redux

Bonus Beach Day
As I bemoaned in my latest blog entry, pools have been closed for a month. But thanks to either global warming or plain dumb luck, here in the Land of the Great Lakes we just enjoyed the warmest Columbus Day in memory. Can you say, "Ninety degrees in October"?! Almost never at this latitude.

I shot the above photo at Maumee Bay State Park in northwestern Ohio yesterday and the photo below in Oakland County, Michigan, the day before. Oh yeah, when it comes to water and sunshine, I get around. And I haul my camera. I also put on my swimsuit and dive in, a la Whiskey Mattimoe. Note: the water was not quite too cold for swimming, although nobody stayed in for more than a few minutes. Long enough to say we did it!

How Whiskey would love this weather, if only she had the time (and organizational skills) to step away from her busy real estate practice and chaotic home life to enjoy the great outdoors. My fictional mystery heroine just gets in trouble when she's out in nature. In Whiskey and Tonic, she finds death on a jinxed woodland property; in Whiskey Straight Up, it's an ice-fishing competition gone deadly wrong; in Whiskey on the Rocks, it's leaf-peeping with evil leaf-peepers. And in the forthcoming Whiskey and Water, Whiskey will confront a rip tide.

But let the record show that for a few brief moments in my own very real life, I swam in a clear, cold Northern lake even as the red leaves dropped from the trees....

Morphing Felines

by Nina Wright

Meet Flannery Florida Wright, my monkey in a cat suit. Sure, she looks relaxed, but that’s because she’s resting after wreaking havoc. Flan is a Devon Rex, a breed known for its athleticism and sociability, cat-fancier euphemisms for hyper-activity and neediness. Our nicknames for Flan include “Alien,” “Flying Squirrel,” “Heat-Seeking Missile,”and “Waxhead” (don’t ask).

As you may know, I write a mystery series starring an Afghan hound and featuring the following canine crew: a golden retriever, a German shepherd, a Rott Hound (Rottweiler-bloodhound mix), and a shitzapoo (technically, a shih poo). Every dog I love or ever have loved lives on in Abra and her peers. However, I also live with and write about cats. See the cover of Whiskey and Tonic! (Give yourself a pat on the head if you can spot Flannery in Bunky Hurter's delightful art.) To date, four of my many felines have wandered, slightly disguised, onto the pages of my books.

Flannery has inspired two fictional felines: Yoda in Whiskey and Tonic and Ruby Tiger in my middle-grade work-in-progress, The Fine Art of Following Cats. I gave Flan a sex change for Yoda and a red-fur makeover for Ruby Tiger, who is actually a blend of Flan and a stunning Abyssinian I once owned. Also featured in The Fine Art is a cat based on Lola Felina, a fluffy all-white beauty who found me on a hike through the backwoods of West Virginia. Lola’s extraordinarily sensitive nose and communicative twitchy tail inspired Fiona Whiffer, cat detective.

Rocco the “serial-killer cat” in my teen novel, Homefree, is based on Oreo, an insanely fearless tuxedo cat who slew pheasants, ground hogs, and young foxes on my farm in Michigan. When we moved to Florida, he bit the heads off snakes. Minus a few teeth, part of an ear and the tip of his tongue (don’t ask), Oreo has now settled into urban retirement.

Something tells me I'm not finished writing about Flannery (who looked like this when I chose her from the litter). Here's how one cat fancier lovingly describes Devons: "Pixie-like with a cheeky face, turned-up nose, and large pointy ears....Respond well to training and often learn to perform simple tricks like fetching, begging, and opening cupboard doors....Will follow you, talking in chirps and trills; you'll never again go to the bathroom alone....Can arrange themselves around your neck like a suede scarf....Are astonishing leapers who amaze their owners by landing on book cases, refrigerators, and the tops of open doors."

All true, except that no one had to teach Flannery to fetch, beg, or open cupboards. As for the part about Devons jumping, they prefer to jump onto people, specifically backs and heads. Hence the "suede scarf" reference. If Flannery can’t access your back, she may, without warning, leap onto your chest. Or she may scale you like a mountain, using her claws as crampons. When that happens, even devout animal lovers scream. I do my best to warn visitors. Anyone with a heart condition or anxiety disorder is immediately placed in a Flannery-free zone. No wonder I’m contemplating a Devon Rex as a murder weapon. In a future mystery, I mean.

Then again, I may switch genres. One of my imaginative friends suggested that if aliens wanted to invade earth, they'd probably come in the bodies of cats, who are innocuous and ubiquitous. Following that argument, aliens would need to design a feline so that it contained certain technical components. Devons might fit the ticket; the breed can practically fly, their coats require no maintenance, and their ears could double as satellite dishes. And aliens probably wouldn't realize how odd Devons look.

If Flannery's leaps don't unnerve my guests, her relentless close-range gaze does. I don't joke about her as a potential alien, recording and beaming images to the Mother Ship. I’m saving those notions for future fiction. But I no longer let Flan follow me into the bathroom....