IT'S HERE!
First book in a new series!

As a reader, I'm a longtime fan of cozy mysteries. The quirky characters, the quaint settings. A mystery to solve! I have the theme song to Murder, She Wrote running through my head just thinking about it.
As an author, I can't wait to share this story!
Stevie Jewel's favorite pastime is watching old movies. Old as in the golden age of Hollywood. Classic films starring Ingrid Bergman, Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart...all the greats.
When she returns to her hometown and gets a chance to help run the local movie theater, she makes her dream come true and brings those classic films back to the big screen.
Stevie also discovers a midlife talent: solving mysteries!
Get Stevie's story here!


An excerpt from Here's Looking at Murder, Kid by Della Pearl:
When the filmended, I sat in my seat, savoring the satisfaction of a well-told story, themusic and end credits keeping me on that high. I lingered in the world of WorldWar II intrigue and danger, the heartbreaking romance. I always hated severingmyself from that spell at the end of a movie, much like having a book hangoverafter finishing a good novel.

Like most timeswhen I went to see a movie, the others in the theater got up to leave before Idid. I always waited until the last credit had rolled. So deep in thought was Ithat it startled me when a gruff but slightly friendly voice said, “That was good.Are you going to do it again?”

Was I going tochoose the greater good after a moral struggle in Casablanca again? Every time!Or did they mean watch the movie again?

I looked up tofind the senior couple sort of smiling down on me. It was the woman who hadspoken, but now the man said in a kind voice, “Good movies really take yousomeplace, don’t they.”

I blinked. That’sright … Pinecone Theater, matinee classics. I was supposed to be working. Ijumped up.

“Am I going to dothis again?” I finally managed. “Yes, definitely. For now, once a week, but Imay do more depending on demand.”

“Do you dorequests?” the man asked.

My heart flutteredlike he’d asked if I wanted to wrap my arms around all my favorite classicfilms and live with them close to me. “I can try. What were you thinking?”

The woman asked,“Do you know Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House? We love that one.”

Okay, my heart wasstraight-up singing at this point. “I love Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House.It was on my list, actually. How about next Thursday at eleven?”

They looked ateach other, that kind of look people have when they’ve been married forever andlive their lives in each other’s pockets. Ken and I never had that kind ofrelationship. I supposed we never would now, though I wasn’t sure how I wassupposed to feel about it.

“Could we doWednesday?” the woman asked. “We have doctor appointments next Thursday.”

Small-town livingat its finest.

“Absolutely. I’llput it on the schedule.” I walked out with them. “And if you have any otherrequests, let me know. I’ll do my best.”

They left thelobby, smiling, but not as brightly as I must have been.

“Well, youlook like you enjoyed that,” Melanie said when they’d gone.

“I did! And theydid too. They’re coming back next Wednesday for Mr. Blandings Builds HisDream House.”

“Excellent,”Melanie said, tapping the countertop with her pencil eraser. “Maybe with theadvance notice we can get more people in. Are you going to do it more than oneday a week, then?”

I was gettinglightheaded. This was all too good to be true. “Can I?”

Melanie shrugged.“You run it, you can do it.”

I demurred, notwanting to look desperate. “I’ll work up a schedule, then. Thanks, Melanie. Ihave a good feeling about this.”

“Clearly peopleare interested, and hey, you’re already bringing in concessions money,” shesaid. “And I’m never going to say no to that.”

Then she winked atme. Winked … Hm. That businessman had winked at me too. Two in one day, when Iwas sure I hadn’t been winked at in years.

Funny I hadn’t noticedhim leave the theater, but then I’d been pretty engrossed in the movie.

What if he’d leftearly and I hadn’t noticed? Shoot. I’d have to work on my proprietorobservation skills. I mean, what if he’d wanted more popcorn and I hadn’tserved him? Unhappy customer, fewer sales, less likely Melanie would let mekeep this up.

“Did you alreadyshut things down in the projection room?” she asked.

“Oh, nope. I’ll godo that now.” Actually, I hadn’t even remembered to turn on the lights. Luckyno one tripped coming out.

Each theater, Ilearned, had two light switches: one you could reach when you first entered,and one upstairs just outside the projection room. I flipped on the one by thedoor, and the empty red-purple seats came into dim view. On the screen, themovie credits had ended, and it had reverted to its starting place. The pictureof Rick and Elsa cheek-to-cheek already made me wistful to watch the movieagain, and that Arabianesque musical score rang through the theater. Sucha good movie. I started up the stairs, this time slower, thinking again of thebeautiful, complicated world created so long ago that could still touch me sodeeply.

Something niggledat my brain. Something wasn’t right.

I looked up and realizedthat in that top corner row, still shadowed in the limited theater lighting,the businessman remained in his seat. I could see the reflection on hisglasses. A chill ran through me.

He hadn’t left.

Click here to read the whole story!

Happy reading!

~ Della