Crystal Quast's Blog
September 2, 2025
Haunted by houses and a premise with some cracks
How do you pick which book to read next?
For me, it could be a recommendation, a snippet read elsewhere, new information about the author, or of course, a cover that pulls me in.
I moved a lot as a kid; nearly twenty times before I hit the same age. My family wasn’t in the military and my dad didn’t work for one of the big banks—other reasons I knew kids moved a lot.
I never knew why we packed up and had to move into a new home so frequently, sometimes more than once in a single year. Junior high was spent pinballing between two towns and schools, and in the span of three years, I racked up five different living addresses.
For that reason, there are reams of houses that I used to live in. Houses whose details I still remember in intricate detail: the number of steps to the second floor, the furniture placement, the colors.
I drove by a few in real life, too, and once the current occupants of what I thought of as my favorite house were standing on the front lawn. My sister’s car, already crawling, came to a stop. I rolled down the window and explained.
This couple had lived there since the day we left over 30 years ago and were now just the third family to occupy the home.
Like most things when you're young, the house seemed much smaller than I remembered it. I could still see my mom standing in the kitchen, washing dishes while looking into the yard. The yellow gingham wallpaper was long gone.
The house, built in 1976 by an architect as a wedding present to a daughter for a marriage that never materialized, still had the same layout.
Then, two years ago, a woman showed up on my own doorstep—the original owner of the home I’ve lived in for nearly a decade. This set of owners looked around all three floors.
We had knocked down walls and changed things up. The woman commented on how open it was; no room for privacy, but she guessed maybe that’s how people liked it now.
Her son talked about the fun times he had at the bar in the basement; there was no bar when we moved here. By then, it had been converted to unloved student housing.
Their visit wrapped up, and as I ushered them out the door, I apologized for the state of my home; it was messier than I would have liked it to be. The woman smiled and noted how it must be hard to keep it tidy with two young boys.
While she meant to be kind, her comment tweaked a nearly constant critical refrain of my adulthood. I smiled and closed the door, but felt sad that the woman seemed less than pleased with the fate of “her” house.
When I later mentioned it to a wise friend, she countered with: “Fuck ’em! They had no right to come to your house and expect it to be the same! Or clean! You don’t have to keep your house clean for anybody except yourself and how you want it.”
So when I saw the cover and the title of my latest read, We Used to Live Here by Marcus Kliewer, I was hooked and left the bookstore with a different title than I planned.
I loved the idea of reading about a family once removed from a home, returning in horror-story fashion.
The first part of the novel was gripping. A strange family walks out of the woods to appear at the home of Eve and her wife, Charlie.
Overall, I enjoyed it, but I like to really understand plot mechanics. A haunting premise with sharp opening chapters, but too many plot holes for me to feel fully at home in the story—so I gave it 3.5 stars, rounded up to 4.
Read the full review here: http://bit.ly/4630koT
For me, it could be a recommendation, a snippet read elsewhere, new information about the author, or of course, a cover that pulls me in.
I moved a lot as a kid; nearly twenty times before I hit the same age. My family wasn’t in the military and my dad didn’t work for one of the big banks—other reasons I knew kids moved a lot.
I never knew why we packed up and had to move into a new home so frequently, sometimes more than once in a single year. Junior high was spent pinballing between two towns and schools, and in the span of three years, I racked up five different living addresses.
For that reason, there are reams of houses that I used to live in. Houses whose details I still remember in intricate detail: the number of steps to the second floor, the furniture placement, the colors.
I drove by a few in real life, too, and once the current occupants of what I thought of as my favorite house were standing on the front lawn. My sister’s car, already crawling, came to a stop. I rolled down the window and explained.
This couple had lived there since the day we left over 30 years ago and were now just the third family to occupy the home.
Like most things when you're young, the house seemed much smaller than I remembered it. I could still see my mom standing in the kitchen, washing dishes while looking into the yard. The yellow gingham wallpaper was long gone.
The house, built in 1976 by an architect as a wedding present to a daughter for a marriage that never materialized, still had the same layout.
Then, two years ago, a woman showed up on my own doorstep—the original owner of the home I’ve lived in for nearly a decade. This set of owners looked around all three floors.
We had knocked down walls and changed things up. The woman commented on how open it was; no room for privacy, but she guessed maybe that’s how people liked it now.
Her son talked about the fun times he had at the bar in the basement; there was no bar when we moved here. By then, it had been converted to unloved student housing.
Their visit wrapped up, and as I ushered them out the door, I apologized for the state of my home; it was messier than I would have liked it to be. The woman smiled and noted how it must be hard to keep it tidy with two young boys.
While she meant to be kind, her comment tweaked a nearly constant critical refrain of my adulthood. I smiled and closed the door, but felt sad that the woman seemed less than pleased with the fate of “her” house.
When I later mentioned it to a wise friend, she countered with: “Fuck ’em! They had no right to come to your house and expect it to be the same! Or clean! You don’t have to keep your house clean for anybody except yourself and how you want it.”
So when I saw the cover and the title of my latest read, We Used to Live Here by Marcus Kliewer, I was hooked and left the bookstore with a different title than I planned.
I loved the idea of reading about a family once removed from a home, returning in horror-story fashion.
The first part of the novel was gripping. A strange family walks out of the woods to appear at the home of Eve and her wife, Charlie.
Overall, I enjoyed it, but I like to really understand plot mechanics. A haunting premise with sharp opening chapters, but too many plot holes for me to feel fully at home in the story—so I gave it 3.5 stars, rounded up to 4.
Read the full review here: http://bit.ly/4630koT
August 25, 2025
Black-hearted summer fun: A classic made into a movie
Over the last couple of years, like much of planet Earth’s population, my long-form reading habits gave way to my phone. Then, two kids, a dog, and everything else caught up with me and I went from reading about 50 books a year to one or two.
I still devoured magazines, but slimmer pickings on the stand and thinner editions don’t allow for deep reads. I still get the Saturday print edition paper too; I love the feeling of flipping through the pages while having my morning coffee. And of course, I read endlessly for my job as a corporate communications writer.
But after writing the Serenity Acres series, I realized I needed to start reading real novels again too.
The War of the Roses has been a favourite movie for years, so picking up a copy of a solid late-night rerun staple I didn’t know originated as a book seemed like a natural fit for my next read.
Like many readers, I expect most books to outshine their movie counterparts. In this case, it was hard to imagine the book doing justice to some of the slapstick scenes that make the movie so memorable. And could it recreate the comedic chemical animosity between Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner?
Adler’s book was darker and funnier than I expected. While some of the reviews I read beforehand cautioned that this book didn’t live up to its namesake movie, I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the unravelling of the Roses’ marriage. I gave this fun classic 4 stars. Read the full review here: https://bit.ly/45N8Doy
For my next read, I've picked up a new (to me) Canadian author and I'll be revisiting a favorite novel that led to a recurring road trip too.
I still devoured magazines, but slimmer pickings on the stand and thinner editions don’t allow for deep reads. I still get the Saturday print edition paper too; I love the feeling of flipping through the pages while having my morning coffee. And of course, I read endlessly for my job as a corporate communications writer.
But after writing the Serenity Acres series, I realized I needed to start reading real novels again too.
The War of the Roses has been a favourite movie for years, so picking up a copy of a solid late-night rerun staple I didn’t know originated as a book seemed like a natural fit for my next read.
Like many readers, I expect most books to outshine their movie counterparts. In this case, it was hard to imagine the book doing justice to some of the slapstick scenes that make the movie so memorable. And could it recreate the comedic chemical animosity between Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner?
Adler’s book was darker and funnier than I expected. While some of the reviews I read beforehand cautioned that this book didn’t live up to its namesake movie, I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the unravelling of the Roses’ marriage. I gave this fun classic 4 stars. Read the full review here: https://bit.ly/45N8Doy
For my next read, I've picked up a new (to me) Canadian author and I'll be revisiting a favorite novel that led to a recurring road trip too.
August 20, 2025
Thanks for the love, but don't leave me on the shelf.
My first Goodreads Giveaway just ended and I’m blown away. Over 1,300 readers entered, and more than 1,200 added Dinked: Serenity Acres to their shelves. Thank you so much for the support!
As a corporate writer, I’m used to people skimming over my material (who reads to the end of a press release anyway?). But getting readers to trust me enough to pick up a copy of Dinked is a tough sell.
I’m untested, and I’m self-published too. But I also have a lifetime of reading, writing, and knowing what I like (and what I think is funny).
I tried to bring all of that into my first novel, and I plan to carry the same authenticity through every Serenity Acres volume. I hope I’ve struck that balance again in Shafted.
Special 3-Day Sale
If you didn’t win the giveaway, now’s your chance to pick up a copy of Dinked. For a limited time:
Ebook: US$2.99
Paperback: US$9.99
Amazon.com: https://bit.ly/4jxUYXh
Amazon.ca: https://bit.ly/4lmBre6
***Bonus for the first 10 paperback orders
The first ten (new only) paperback orders will receive a vintage, limited edition keychain.
Just place your paperback order, fill in this Google form and watch your box!
https://forms.gle/qV7kiEyBzcaYty7w5
Until my next blog post!
As a corporate writer, I’m used to people skimming over my material (who reads to the end of a press release anyway?). But getting readers to trust me enough to pick up a copy of Dinked is a tough sell.
I’m untested, and I’m self-published too. But I also have a lifetime of reading, writing, and knowing what I like (and what I think is funny).
I tried to bring all of that into my first novel, and I plan to carry the same authenticity through every Serenity Acres volume. I hope I’ve struck that balance again in Shafted.
Special 3-Day Sale
If you didn’t win the giveaway, now’s your chance to pick up a copy of Dinked. For a limited time:
Ebook: US$2.99
Paperback: US$9.99
Amazon.com: https://bit.ly/4jxUYXh
Amazon.ca: https://bit.ly/4lmBre6
***Bonus for the first 10 paperback orders
The first ten (new only) paperback orders will receive a vintage, limited edition keychain.
Just place your paperback order, fill in this Google form and watch your box!
https://forms.gle/qV7kiEyBzcaYty7w5
Until my next blog post!
August 11, 2025
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea on a 3000km Road Trip: Chasing Jules Verne on Summer Vacation
What do Jules Verne, a mysterious restaurant in La Malbaie, and a 3,000 km road trip through Quebec have in common? This summer, I found my writing inspiration somewhere between the St. Lawrence River, the Chic-Choc Mountains, and a room full of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea memorabilia.
For the last two summers, my son has taken part in a French Immersion program that has seen our family road-tripping through the St. Lawrence and Gaspé regions of Quebec.
This area has always been special. I visited it with my husband in the early years of our marriage and we vowed to bring our (then non-existent) kids back to Percé Rock one day.
We did in 2016 but only had time for part of the north and south shores, travelling between the two by ferry from Matane to Baie-Comeau. Last year, we drove the entire peninsula through the spectacular Matapédia Valley.
This year we took a different route: to pick up our son on the south shore and return on the north, via La Malbaie.
While booking the trip, I discovered the I'ile Mystérieuse Restaurant, home to one of the largest collections of Jules Verne memorabilia outside of Europe.
I have based entire trips on one small thing before: a picture of a bar I could not get out of my head, a trip to Monterey after reading Cannery Row. It made sense to ensure this restaurant was on our list.
Having written both my first and second novels this year alongside running my corporate communications business has left me little time for anything else. But with my favourite road trip coming up, I settled in with this classic.
At first, it was hard to get past the old-timey language and endless descriptions of fish. But I love marine life, geology and geography, and a good revenge novel with personal drama. Fifty pages in, I was hooked.
That the Canadian character Ned Land was from just north of Quebec City and that the St. Lawrence featured in the book brought it to life as we cruised the seaside roads with the river beside us.
I could almost envision the Nautilus rising out of the dark waters near Rimouski, where the Onandaga submarine now rests seaside, a fun diversion for tourists.
La Malbaie, nestled in the heart of Charlevoix, was the last night of our trip. No reservations required, we entered I'ile Mystérieuse. Dark and mysterious like Verne’s tales, the back room held a treasure chest of artefacts.
The menu also held many delights, including a cocktail named after Verne. With a family of four, we worked through much of the tapas-style menu. Our favourite? The fondue. Given their ferocious role in the novel, we avoided the poulpe (octopus).
Seeing the first edition books, some surely never opened, was awe-inspiring. Beautifully bound with gold foil covers, they were a total contrast to today's style. Yet, Verne's story remains timeless.
I do not know if Verne ever visited the St. Lawrence area. He certainly travelled to many places in his incredible mind. I do know he wrote a classic that I enjoyed immensely more than 100 years after it was published.
Right now, I am closing in on the 100-copies-sold mark that so many self-published authors struggle to reach. I am grateful for every reader, but it is a tough road.
I hope one day someone reads Serenity Acres on a road trip and finds a thrill in the details when they drive through my part of the world.
With whales seen from shore, abundant seafood, and postcard towns, I'm sure I'll go back to Quebec-by-the-Sea for more rest and inspiration. And added to my reading list? The Mysterious Island.
For the last two summers, my son has taken part in a French Immersion program that has seen our family road-tripping through the St. Lawrence and Gaspé regions of Quebec.
This area has always been special. I visited it with my husband in the early years of our marriage and we vowed to bring our (then non-existent) kids back to Percé Rock one day.
We did in 2016 but only had time for part of the north and south shores, travelling between the two by ferry from Matane to Baie-Comeau. Last year, we drove the entire peninsula through the spectacular Matapédia Valley.
This year we took a different route: to pick up our son on the south shore and return on the north, via La Malbaie.
While booking the trip, I discovered the I'ile Mystérieuse Restaurant, home to one of the largest collections of Jules Verne memorabilia outside of Europe.
I have based entire trips on one small thing before: a picture of a bar I could not get out of my head, a trip to Monterey after reading Cannery Row. It made sense to ensure this restaurant was on our list.
Having written both my first and second novels this year alongside running my corporate communications business has left me little time for anything else. But with my favourite road trip coming up, I settled in with this classic.
At first, it was hard to get past the old-timey language and endless descriptions of fish. But I love marine life, geology and geography, and a good revenge novel with personal drama. Fifty pages in, I was hooked.
That the Canadian character Ned Land was from just north of Quebec City and that the St. Lawrence featured in the book brought it to life as we cruised the seaside roads with the river beside us.
I could almost envision the Nautilus rising out of the dark waters near Rimouski, where the Onandaga submarine now rests seaside, a fun diversion for tourists.
La Malbaie, nestled in the heart of Charlevoix, was the last night of our trip. No reservations required, we entered I'ile Mystérieuse. Dark and mysterious like Verne’s tales, the back room held a treasure chest of artefacts.
The menu also held many delights, including a cocktail named after Verne. With a family of four, we worked through much of the tapas-style menu. Our favourite? The fondue. Given their ferocious role in the novel, we avoided the poulpe (octopus).
Seeing the first edition books, some surely never opened, was awe-inspiring. Beautifully bound with gold foil covers, they were a total contrast to today's style. Yet, Verne's story remains timeless.
I do not know if Verne ever visited the St. Lawrence area. He certainly travelled to many places in his incredible mind. I do know he wrote a classic that I enjoyed immensely more than 100 years after it was published.
Right now, I am closing in on the 100-copies-sold mark that so many self-published authors struggle to reach. I am grateful for every reader, but it is a tough road.
I hope one day someone reads Serenity Acres on a road trip and finds a thrill in the details when they drive through my part of the world.
With whales seen from shore, abundant seafood, and postcard towns, I'm sure I'll go back to Quebec-by-the-Sea for more rest and inspiration. And added to my reading list? The Mysterious Island.
July 24, 2025
The Scam Behind DInked: My Story in the Globe and Mail
Sure, I'm getting roasted in the comments for this article I've included a free link to.
But since when is it okay to impersonate one of the biggest companies on the planet? Amazon has even taken the scammers to court.
Last year, I got scammed by a fake Amazon publishing outfit; real logo, spoofed caller ID, and a hefty bill for work that never happened. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one.
Huge thanks to Alexandra Posadzki for featuring my story in The Globe and Mail and shedding light on how fraud is evolving faster than the systems meant to stop it.
The irony? My debut novel, Dinked: Serenity Acres, actually includes a subplot about an Amazon phishing scam. Life imitating art, in the worst way.
Read the full article:
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/gift/...
But since when is it okay to impersonate one of the biggest companies on the planet? Amazon has even taken the scammers to court.
Last year, I got scammed by a fake Amazon publishing outfit; real logo, spoofed caller ID, and a hefty bill for work that never happened. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one.
Huge thanks to Alexandra Posadzki for featuring my story in The Globe and Mail and shedding light on how fraud is evolving faster than the systems meant to stop it.
The irony? My debut novel, Dinked: Serenity Acres, actually includes a subplot about an Amazon phishing scam. Life imitating art, in the worst way.
Read the full article:
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/gift/...
June 19, 2025
How I Gut Suckered Publishing DInked
I've worked with the Humble and Fred Radio show for many years, so it was great to have a safe space to share a really hard story.
There are so many scammers in the publishing industry and I fell for one of them. Listen to the full interview here:
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/16hp...
There are so many scammers in the publishing industry and I fell for one of them. Listen to the full interview here:
https://www.facebook.com/share/p/16hp...
June 17, 2025
An interview with Medium Magazine!
An interview with Kristen Marquet at Authority Magazine about my leap from business writer to novelist. Plus insights into the inspiration behind Dinked: Serenity Acres.
http://bit.ly/4kWpQ56
http://bit.ly/4kWpQ56
April 28, 2025
FIne is Code for go to Hell
One of my favorite parts of writing Dinked: The Secrets of Serenity Acres was coming up with the outlandish chapter titles. I knew I didn’t want to just number the chapters, but titles that reflected the quirky nature of my characters and foreshadowed events.
I had a blast choosing titles that reflected the quirky nature of Serenity Acres. Many of them were spontaneous and like my first favorite, inspired by my character’s words, thoughts and actions.
‘Fine’ is code for Go to Hell!
We all know ‘fine’ means the exact opposite and it’s no different in Serenity Acres where this one-word missive speaks volumes.
Some titles didn’t use words but relied on visual cues instead.
🍷🍤🍆
Emojis are a fun way to communicate visually and today’s obsession with texting made me want to incorporate them into the Chapter titles. The juxtaposition of the shrimp with the sexually charged eggplant adds some nuanced (and funny) layers.
Not all the titles had a humorous twist and instead foreshadowed darker twists.
Crows Know:
Crows are known to hold generational grudges and the birds in Dinked: The Secrets of Serenity Acres are more than flighted friends; they are proven to be studious observers of the neighborhood and know more than they can caw.
What was your favorite chapter title? Drop me a line…I’d love to know!
I had a blast choosing titles that reflected the quirky nature of Serenity Acres. Many of them were spontaneous and like my first favorite, inspired by my character’s words, thoughts and actions.
‘Fine’ is code for Go to Hell!
We all know ‘fine’ means the exact opposite and it’s no different in Serenity Acres where this one-word missive speaks volumes.
Some titles didn’t use words but relied on visual cues instead.
🍷🍤🍆
Emojis are a fun way to communicate visually and today’s obsession with texting made me want to incorporate them into the Chapter titles. The juxtaposition of the shrimp with the sexually charged eggplant adds some nuanced (and funny) layers.
Not all the titles had a humorous twist and instead foreshadowed darker twists.
Crows Know:
Crows are known to hold generational grudges and the birds in Dinked: The Secrets of Serenity Acres are more than flighted friends; they are proven to be studious observers of the neighborhood and know more than they can caw.
What was your favorite chapter title? Drop me a line…I’d love to know!
April 22, 2025
Under the Influence
There are a lot of things I enjoy beyond cozy mysteries and pickleball and rocking out to my favorite tunes is one of them.
Like most people, music has played an important role in my life. The younger me diligently practiced classical piano and worried about having to decry rock and adopt country once I hit adulthood. I have no idea where this bizarre belief came from but was convinced grown-ups only listened to country music.
As a mother, sharing my kid's journey with music in the age of streaming has been an incredible learning experience as I see them discover some of the most iconic musical acts in history across all genres. I’ve got them reciting rap lyrics while they’ve got me hooked on classics - including irresistible old-time country twangs like Johnny Cash and Marty Robbins and the Heavy Metal hitters I was too girlish for (Ozzy!) the first time around.
Now, I listen to everything and anything, and my playlists are numerous and named aptly.
Writing Dinked: The Secrets of Serenity Acres was an intense process, and for the first time in years, I swapped my usual virtual elliptical training program for music on my morning runs. Many of the earworms I woke up with had the same driving beat.
They felt like the perfect soundtrack to my characters—their personalities, desires, and fears woven through the lyrics. You might notice many of the songs included are voiced by female singers. I chose them specifically to emote the raw female anger and deception that drives many of the women in Serenity Acres. Like The Beaches, who doesn’t want to “Blame Brett?” Or the slow low build in Carly Simon's "You’re So Vain," with the symphonic crescendo that we all know is meant to take one actor down half a peg. Additions from the likes of Garbage and Charlotte Gainsbourg add more gritty depth.
In other cases, some of those lyrics are even woven directly into my prose, adding subtext and layers, and hinting at outcomes.
How many can you find?
Like most people, music has played an important role in my life. The younger me diligently practiced classical piano and worried about having to decry rock and adopt country once I hit adulthood. I have no idea where this bizarre belief came from but was convinced grown-ups only listened to country music.
As a mother, sharing my kid's journey with music in the age of streaming has been an incredible learning experience as I see them discover some of the most iconic musical acts in history across all genres. I’ve got them reciting rap lyrics while they’ve got me hooked on classics - including irresistible old-time country twangs like Johnny Cash and Marty Robbins and the Heavy Metal hitters I was too girlish for (Ozzy!) the first time around.
Now, I listen to everything and anything, and my playlists are numerous and named aptly.
Writing Dinked: The Secrets of Serenity Acres was an intense process, and for the first time in years, I swapped my usual virtual elliptical training program for music on my morning runs. Many of the earworms I woke up with had the same driving beat.
They felt like the perfect soundtrack to my characters—their personalities, desires, and fears woven through the lyrics. You might notice many of the songs included are voiced by female singers. I chose them specifically to emote the raw female anger and deception that drives many of the women in Serenity Acres. Like The Beaches, who doesn’t want to “Blame Brett?” Or the slow low build in Carly Simon's "You’re So Vain," with the symphonic crescendo that we all know is meant to take one actor down half a peg. Additions from the likes of Garbage and Charlotte Gainsbourg add more gritty depth.
In other cases, some of those lyrics are even woven directly into my prose, adding subtext and layers, and hinting at outcomes.
How many can you find?
April 12, 2025
The Inspiration Behind Dinked: The Secrets of Serenity Acres
Working as a professional writer for over twenty years, I’ve written every type of document you can imagine; social media posts, press releases, speeches and scripts, but never a novel. Until Dinked: Serenity Acres that is.
I grew up watching cozy mysteries with my family. The classics were staples in my home. Long before the days of PVRs or even VCRs, we would gather around the TV to watch the likes of Quincy, Murder She Wrote and Columbo. Unlike today’s choreographed fight scenes where characters absorb endless blows and perform Matrix-style stunts, the victims in these shows perished easily. One quick knock to the noggin was all it took, and blood loss was limited.
I’m also a child of a mother who devoured Harlequin romance novels like they were butterscotch Lifesavers and followed the soap operas like stocks.
Now, as an adult, my tastes vary wildly, but cozy mysteries filled with scandal are always a favorite. Numerous twists required, the more ludicrous the better.
I also loved racquet sports since I was tall enough to hold one, even if I didn’t have a partner. I would smash tennis balls against the garage door for hours, wishing I had a friend to play with. That all changed when I met my husband, who’s an avid player. We spent much of our time together hitting up the free courts, practicing our strokes!
We got a dog, got married, had two kids (boys), and then another dog, and our racquets sat gathering dust for a few years while we raised our young family.
Then, pickleball arrived with a vengeance on our scene. I was instantly hooked! Easy to learn but hard to master, I thrilled at absorbing the complicated (but easy once you get it!) scoring system and laughed every time I got caught in “the kitchen.” The fierce but friendly competition gave my leisure time a new meaning.
My husband? Not so much so. At least not at first. Our debates about each sport’s merits raged on like the presidential debates while our kids noted they would rather golf (they don’t!). But the fun, quick-paced nature of the fastest-growing sport in North America is contagious and won him over and soon enough we started to split our time evenly between the two. My kids are even in on the fun now, and we’ve spent countless sunny hours sweating it out. Sadly, our favorite ball boy Hank passed away last spring.
And just like that…pickleball added itself to my list of favorite things, along with cozy mysteries and scandal-driven storylines. I’m excited to share behind-the-scenes info, book club ideas, and more. I hope you love DInked: Serenity Acres as much as I loved creating it.
Are you a cozy mystery fan? A pickleball addict? Or just here for the scandal? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear from you!
I grew up watching cozy mysteries with my family. The classics were staples in my home. Long before the days of PVRs or even VCRs, we would gather around the TV to watch the likes of Quincy, Murder She Wrote and Columbo. Unlike today’s choreographed fight scenes where characters absorb endless blows and perform Matrix-style stunts, the victims in these shows perished easily. One quick knock to the noggin was all it took, and blood loss was limited.
I’m also a child of a mother who devoured Harlequin romance novels like they were butterscotch Lifesavers and followed the soap operas like stocks.
Now, as an adult, my tastes vary wildly, but cozy mysteries filled with scandal are always a favorite. Numerous twists required, the more ludicrous the better.
I also loved racquet sports since I was tall enough to hold one, even if I didn’t have a partner. I would smash tennis balls against the garage door for hours, wishing I had a friend to play with. That all changed when I met my husband, who’s an avid player. We spent much of our time together hitting up the free courts, practicing our strokes!
We got a dog, got married, had two kids (boys), and then another dog, and our racquets sat gathering dust for a few years while we raised our young family.
Then, pickleball arrived with a vengeance on our scene. I was instantly hooked! Easy to learn but hard to master, I thrilled at absorbing the complicated (but easy once you get it!) scoring system and laughed every time I got caught in “the kitchen.” The fierce but friendly competition gave my leisure time a new meaning.
My husband? Not so much so. At least not at first. Our debates about each sport’s merits raged on like the presidential debates while our kids noted they would rather golf (they don’t!). But the fun, quick-paced nature of the fastest-growing sport in North America is contagious and won him over and soon enough we started to split our time evenly between the two. My kids are even in on the fun now, and we’ve spent countless sunny hours sweating it out. Sadly, our favorite ball boy Hank passed away last spring.
And just like that…pickleball added itself to my list of favorite things, along with cozy mysteries and scandal-driven storylines. I’m excited to share behind-the-scenes info, book club ideas, and more. I hope you love DInked: Serenity Acres as much as I loved creating it.
Are you a cozy mystery fan? A pickleball addict? Or just here for the scandal? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear from you!
