PURSE-ONALITY! by Diane Kelly

Later this month, my first digital novella will release.  Like the rest of the Death and Taxes series, Death, Taxes, and a Sequined Clutch features IRS Special Agent Tara Holloway and her gang.  In the novella, Tara’s new clutch purse makes a great place for her to stash her gun and handcuffs while she fights crime and debates how to even the score with an old flame who did her wrong.  The clutch’s sequined bulls-eye pattern is total Tara. 

The type of purse a woman carries and its contents say a lot about her, don’t they?  Fortune tellers and psychologists could learn everything about a woman from her purse.  

When I first started carrying a tiny little blue jean purse in 5^th grade I had to search for things to put in it.  A Bonnie Bell lip smacker.  A ballpoint pen.  Spare change.  A comb. Fast forward to high school and college when I had dozens of purses in all different shapes, sizes, and colors to coordinate with my outfits, including a sexy clutch or two.   Gotta be in fashion , right, and a glittery clutch just says "Fun!"  At that point, my purses contained a quarter for the payphone, my fake id, and lip gloss in case I happened to meet the guy of my dreams. 

Once I got married and had kids, my purse became an over-sized carry-all that housed a half dozen Hot Wheels, a Barbie or two, and “mom” things like coupons, tissues, Band-Aids, and granola bars.  A few years later, as I juggled my roles as a tax adviser, aspiring author, and PTA officer, my sturdy, utilitarian purse became a mobile filing cabinet filled with manuscript drafts, paper clips, a calculator, and never-ending “to do” lists.

I recently bought my first nice purse that I’ve had in years, a Coach bag scored 40% off at the outlets.  It’s a great style that crosses over the chest, leaving the hands free for shopping, texting, and mixed martial arts, perfect for a busy woman on the go.  One glance inside my purse and you’ll find ultra fine Sharpie pens and stickers for my book signings, a cell phone loaded with great books to read on the fly, and a very worn Staples rewards card used to buy zillions of printer cartridges.

Tell us about your purse-onality.  What does your purse say about you?  Do you carry a sexy, carefree clutch or something more practical?  Is there something funny or unusual in your purse?  Do you change purses with each outfit, or do you normally carry the same purse every day?  One lucky commenter will win a free digital copy of Death, Taxes, and a Sequined Clutch.  Check back at 9 pm central time to see if you’ve won!  

DEATH, TAXES, AND A SEQUINED CLUTCH releases on October 30th for only $1.99 and is available for pre-order now! 

What's so Funny 'bout Peace, Love, and Understanding? by Diane Kelly

I recently read Dale Carnegie’s book “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”  His best advice is that people should seek first to understand, then to be understood.  In other words, we need to empathize with those we deal with personally and professionally.  This can be difficult, and when the other person makes little attempt to understand where we are coming from it can be hurtful and frustrating.   

For a writer, the ability to empathize is critical.  Writers have to create characters that readers can empathize with, and to do so we have to put ourselves in the character’s shoes and think hard about what it would be like to be them.  How would they feel under the circumstances the story throws at them?  What thoughts would go through their minds?  How would they react to the situations and people they are dealing with?

Empathy can have a downside.  I have a hard time with books and movies in which horrifying, traumatic things happen to the characters.  Yep, I’m an emotional wimp.  I don’t like to see people suffer.  Besides, I don’t think a story has to be traumatic to be meaningful. 

Empathy can be a lot of fun, though, too.  My favorite writers create characters with whom I gladly empathize through their trials and tribulations because I know there will be a wonderful emotional payoff at the end.  I enjoy getting into the head of IRS Special Agent Tara Holloway, the star of my Death & Taxes series.  Through her, I get to be 27 again and have a kick-ass job where I carry a gun, work alongside a bad-ass bad boy, and take down crooks.  So much fun!  Tara also has an active sex life.  Hey, if you’re going to empathize with your character, you might as well treat yourself to a good time, right?  And it’s rewarding to empathize with a character whose ultimate goal is truth and justice, even if the means she uses to achieve those goals are less than exemplary.

It’s perhaps easiest to empathize with characters who are like us.  A character from TV that I empathize with is Claire from Modern Family.  She busts her butt to take care of a family that takes her for granted.  She’s treated as if she has a hair-trigger temper when, in my opinion, she’s justifiably frustrated that someone throws a monkey wrench into her carefully made plans.  I can soooo relate to that!  I also empathize with Frankie from The Middle.  She’s muddling through, doing her best but still falling short.  There are only so many hours in a day, after all!  Her house is a mess, sometimes she’s a mess, too, but in the end her children know she loves them and the important things get taken care of even if the laundry doesn’t. 

What characters from books, television, or movies do you most empathize with?  Are they like you or different?  What made you feel empathy with the character?  We’d love to hear your thoughts!  One person who posts a comment today will win a copy of either Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure or Death, Taxes, and a Skinny No-Whip Latte (winner’s choice).  The winner will be posted around 9:00 PM central time.

Unsung Heroes - by Diane Kelly

I’d been working in the tax industry for over 15 years when I first learned of IRS special agents. These criminal investigators are essentially “tax cops,” making sure tax cheats pay their fair share so that you and I don’t have to shoulder an unfair financial burden.

When I first began writing my Death and Taxes series, which stars a criminal investigator for the IRS, I performed research to learn what IRS special agents do and how they do it. I read over facts and statistics about tax fraud. I subscribed to email alerts from the Treasury’s office of financial enforcement. I also interviewed a group of special agents. I was very impressed! They were incredibly smart, driven, attractive, and physically fit. They work hard and take personal risks. I’m so grateful for what they do! The special agents offered me lots of interesting and important information. I took copious notes, even attended the trial of a tax preparer accused of fraud so that I could see justice in action. I learned a lot about what it’s like to be a special agent.

Then I sat down to write my book. I took the truth and played with it, rolling it around like it was Play-Doh, mixing the colors and forming it into different shapes. It’s a fiction writer’s job to create an interesting story and that often means bending the truth for the sake of the story. Just as well-behaved women rarely make history, well-behaved heroines are not as entertaining as ones who break the rules.

Tara Holloway, the special agent who stars in my Death and Taxes series, is hardly a model agent. She pursues justice at all costs, even if it means doing things that, in reality, would get her fired or land her butt in jail. In writing my series, one of my hopes was that I could introduce people to the fascinating world of special agents and create some appreciation for the people who do this tough job. To that end, I’d like to sort out fact from fiction.

FICTION: Tara and her fellow agents operate by the seat of their pants, making snap decisions on the fly without approval from their superiors.

FACT: IRS special agents carefully plan their investigations and actions in advance, with input and approval from those up their chain of command.

FICTION: Tara accesses taxpayer data without authorization.

FACT: IRS special agents are not permitted to look up taxpayer data willy nilly and can be terminated for improperly accessing information.

FICTION: Tara and the other agents combine their personal and work lives, sometimes driving personal vehicles on the job and running personal errands on work time.

FACT: IRS special agents drive only government vehicles while on the job and do not drive them on personal errands.

FICTION: Tara is a sharpshooter who hits everything she aims for and can shoot things out of a person’s hand at long range.

FACT: Fact may not be so far from fiction here. Special agents are required to re-certify on their weapons on a regular basis. So, yep, they not only know numbers, they know their guns, too.

Many of my readers have told me that they first learned of IRS special agents via my novels. Do you know of any other unsung heroes with unusual jobs? Tell us about them!

One person who posts a comment today will win a copy of DEATH, TAXES, AND A FRENCH MANICURE, book #1 in my Death and Taxes series. The winner will be posted around 9:00 pm Central Time. Look for book #2, DEATH, TAXES, AND A SKINNY NO-WHIP LATTE, in bookstores now. Read an excerpt at www.dianekelly.com.

Secrets . . . Shaken Not Stirred by Diane Kelly with guest Gina Robinson

Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of meeting author Gina Robinson when I flew out to Seattle to present a tax workshop for the Greater Seattle RWA chapter. Much to our surprise, as we chatted over lunch, we realized that not only had we contracted with the same publisher, but we also had the same editor and the same release date as well. Gina’s books, like mine, contain an entertaining mix of romance, crime, and humor. She’s a former engineer and I’m a CPA/tax advisor, so we’re both recovering nerds, too. It’s like we were twins separated at birth!

Recently we wondered what it might be like if the heroines of our novels met each other, too. Both of the women have trust issues when it comes to the men in their lives. We decided to let them meet over drinks at a bar and compare notes. Read on to see what happens as Treflee of Gina Robinson’s “The Spy Who Left Me” Meets Tara of “Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure” . . .

IRS Special Agent Tara Holloway, still dressed in her gray business suit, bellies up to the bar and takes a seat on an empty stool next to a pretty blonde. Thank goodness it’s happy hour. She could use a drink or two. She catches the bartender’s eye. His biceps are the size of hams. Nice. He definitely works out. “Sex on the beach, please.”

The bartender slides a flirtatious grin Tara’s way. “Is that a drink order or a proposition?”

Tara returns the grin. “Drink order,” she replies. “As tempting as you are, I’m having enough man trouble right now.”

Treflee can’t help overhearing the woman next to her. Too many years of being married to a spy. Eavesdropping is second nature to her. She takes a sip of her martini, shaken, not stirred, and turns to the woman in the gray business suit with great empathy. “You, too? Must be something in the water around here.” She smiles at her. “I’m Treflee. What has your man done?”

“That’s the problem, Treflee,” Tara says, glad to have someone to confide in and share a drink with. “I’m not entirely sure whether my boyfriend Brett has done anything or not. But I have some suspicions he may be involved with a con artist.” Tara takes a long drag through her straw, savoring the peach flavor. Yum! “What about your man? How is he giving you trouble?”

“My husband? He’s a con artist himself.” Treflee sees Tara’s shocked expression and laughs softly. “Sorry to give you the wrong impression. I’m kidding. Sort of. I should have said lying, secrecy, and intrigue are his stock in trade. He’s not a crook. He has the government’s blessing. The thing is, the secrecy doesn’t stop when he comes home, if he comes home at all, and it’s killing our marriage. I can’t live his life of lies anymore. It’s just too dangerous.”

Treflee pauses, fearing she may have said too much already. You never know where an enemy agent may be hanging out or who’s listening in. Tara looks like a member of the sympathetic sisterhood of women with man troubles, but she could be a foreign spy. Still, Treflee can’t help adding, “I think he may have done something, really, really bad. And now he’s put me in danger.” She takes another sip of her drink. “You and I are suffering from the worst kind of man problems—the kind where they could either be completely innocent, or in horrible trouble. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get some answers. I have ways to make men talk.” Tara pulls back her jacket to give Treflee a glimpse of the Glock holstered at her hip, then flashes a smile to let her new friend know she’s teasing. Tara can’t imagine using a gun on Brett, though slapping her handcuffs on him could lead to some fun. Was it possible to boink the truth out of someone? Tara was willing to try. “I suppose I’m a bit of a hypocrite,” she admits. “I’ve kept some secrets from Brett, too. The guy has no idea I carry a gun on the job.” Tara leans toward Treflee, her voice low. “As difficult as secrets can be, sometimes having secrets can be kind of fun. Sexy even. A little mystery keeps things exciting, don’t you think?”


Join in the conversation. Should couples always be completely honest with each other or does knowing everything about each other take the fun out of a relationship? When, if ever, is it okay to have secrets?

What if Rhett Butler HAD Given a Damn? by Diane Kelly

A while back, I wrote a manuscript that included some characters from Ireland. To get a feel for their language and culture, I loaded my Netflix queue with Irish movies and watched as many as possible. My family was patient for a week or two, then they tired of me hogging the DVD player. They rebelled and logged into the Netflix account, rearranging the queue to add some zombie, action/adventure, and chick flicks to the mix. Thus, my selection Rory O’Shea was Here, was pushed far down the list.

Slowly the movie worked its way back to the top, and last weekend it appeared in my mailbox. I’ve long since finished the manuscript with the Irish characters, but figured I’d go ahead and watch the movie anyway. It was here, so why not?

The movie was touching and poignant, even funny at times. The plot involves two disabled young men in their early twenties, both of whom are wheelchair bound. One has cerebral palsy, and the other, Rory O’Shea, suffers from muscular dystrophy. The two live in a home for the disabled. Rory has difficulty dealing with the loss of independence and strives to find a better life for himself and his new friend.

I don’t want to spoil the movie for anyone who might see it, so I won’t give specifics about the plot. But after I watched the movie, I noticed my TV screen displaying the option to watch an alternate ending. I clicked on it and watched.

The alternate ending was more uplifting and pulled the themes together more fully. But it also tied up everything very neatly and didn’t leave the viewer with as much to think about afterward as the original ending did. If given a choice, I'd have to say I preferred the alternate ending, though both endings had their own merits and were satisfying in their own ways.

Have you ever read a book or seen a movie that you wished had ended differently? How would you have ended the story? We’d love to hear about it!


Diane Kelly is the author of the humorous Death & Taxes romantic mystery series. Her debut novel, Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure is in stores now. Visit Diane at www.dianekelly.com

Is "Dream Job" an Oxymoron? by Diane Kelly

Okay, as I write this blog on Saturday, Oct. 22nd, I’m sitting outside A Real Bookstore in Fairview, Texas with my buddy Angela after attending a booksigning for fellow Killer Fiction author Christie Craig and my DARA chapter-mate Liz Lipperman. Angela and I are both on our computers. She’s been working on her latest story, while I’ve been trying to think up an interesting topic for this blog. (Had a sangria with lunch. Bad idea. It put my brain to sleep.) Then, lo and behold, Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark” came on over the speakers. When he got to the line “I’m sick of sitting ‘round here trying to write this book,” I had to laugh at the irony of that line being sung over the heads of two writers hard at work.

Will I ever get "sick of sitting 'round here trying to write this book?" NEVER!!! It's so much fun to create characters and stories. I have more ideas in my head than I’ll ever be able to get down on paper. I wish there was some way to stick a USB cable in my ear and directly download the stories from my brain to a computer file.

It’s a blessing not only to have work that feels much more like play, but also to be paid to do it. I wish everyone could find a job they love this much.

The new reality shows based on occupations are intriguing. Hell’s Kitchen. Pawn Stars. Ice Road Truckers. The Biggest Catch. Dog the Bounty Hunter. Through these shows, we get to see the inside secrets of all types of jobs. All of them are far more interesting than they might seem at first blush.

Are you working your dream job? If not, what would your dream job be? What about the job appeals to you? Post a comment and you might win a copy of Death, Taxes and a French Manicure. The winner will be chosen at random and posted around 9:00 pm central time. For more chances to win a book plus a $10 Barnes & Noble e-giftcard, visit the blog at my author website, www.dianekelly.com, from now through Oct. 31st.

Thanks for visiting us here at Killer Fiction!

My Tetherball Romance - by Diane Kelly

Recently, my son noted that he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be married. Of course he’s 16 with raging hormones – in other words, girl crazy. One day he’s got a crush on a petite Asian girl, the next a tall blonde. When there’s so many potential mates to choose from, each with her own unique look and personality, he can’t imagine tying himself down to just one!

But, as I tried to explain to him, one day he’ll meet a girl who he knows is THE ONE. When he does, she’ll feel like an extension of himself, part of the unit that is THEM. “That’s how I feel about Dad,” I explained. “He’s such an integral part of my life and my identity. It’s like he’s one of my limbs, like an arm or a leg. I’d have a hard time imagining life without him.”

Of course, being 16 means my son is not only girl crazy but also a smart ass. “Sometimes a person is better off cutting off a limb,” he replied. “Like if it gets gangrene.”

Such a romantic, huh?

The conversation got me thinking, though. My relationship with my husband has certainly evolved over the years. When we first met, we had a lot of fun together, but we were independent and enjoyed time with our friends, too. Once we got married and had kids, we spent more time together, though our dates often consisted of sitting side by side in front of the dryer and folding laundry on a Friday night.

Now? I guess the best simile for our relationship is to say it’s like a game of tether ball. My husband is the pole – solid, rooted, doesn’t need to go anywhere to enjoy himself. Yep, he’s a bit of a homebody, happy to sit in front of the TV watching ESPN and munching chips and salsa. I’m like the ball, constantly on the move, flying first one direction, then the other as I go about the busy game of my life. But I’m firmly tied to the pole by a taut rope and at times am wrapped firmly around it, taking a short breather between games.

I’ve found that when I write the romantic parts of my books, I tend to give my characters a very similar type of relationship. The hero and heroine share an undeniable bond, yet they function fairly independently as they go about their days. Still, they are there for each other at the critical times.

Every relationship is different, of course, and what works for each couple is as unique as the couple themselves. How would you describe your relationship with your spouse or significant other? How has it evolved over the years?

Diane Kelly is the author of the Death & Taxes romantic mystery series. Her debut novel, Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure, will be released November 1st. Post a comment today and you could win a copy of Diane's debut novel! The winner will be posted around 9:00 pm central time. Visit her site, www.dianekelly.com, from October 21 - October 31 for more chances to win prizes in her countdown contest!

HAIRY SITUATIONS by Diane Kelly

That's me and my mother in the photo. The photo reveals several things about me:

1) I'm not a real blonde. (Is anyone???)
2) I'm from Texas, also known as The Land of Big Hair.
3) I have a mother who's such a great sport she allowed me to use this photo in my blog! (Thanks, Mom!)

The hair. Wow, huh? I can't imagine why this hairstyle hasn't come back!

My mother's hair must have been the subconscious inspiration for the beehive worn by Lu "The Lobo" Lobozinksi, Tara's stuck-in-the-sixties boss in my Death & Taxes series. Lu's beehive plays a major role in Death, Taxes, and Extra-Hold Hairspray, which will be book #3 in the series and will be out next summer.

I've never worn a beehive, but I have sported some other questionable haircuts in the name of fashion. I was in high school in the '80's, during the New Wave/Punk Rock era. I once had my hairdresser cut the top of my hair in one of those spiky hairdos that made the strands stick up like a palm tree on top of my head ala Kajagoogoo. (Remember that band? I Googled them. They're still around!) My high school boyfriend had long bangs that he bleached to an odd shade of orange-blond.

I once got a spiral perm. The rollers were so heavy they nearly broke my neck during processing. Between the bleach in the blond dye and the chemicals in the perm, my hair was fried beyond repair. I looked like I was wearing a tumbleweed on my head.

Got a bad hair story? Share it with us! One lucky poster will win an ARC of my debut novel, Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure. The winner will be announced here at 9 PM central time, so be sure to check back! Thanks for stopping by to visit us at Killer Fiction!

How do I Love Thee? by Diane Kelly

My 15-year old son recently began his first romantic relationship. Well, technically, it’s not his first. Back in kindergarten, he was in love with a cute little red-haired girl from his class and she returned the sentiment. They shared their Twinkies at lunch and drew crayon pictures of each other with smiling suns over their heads. It was adorable. Unfortunately, the relationship ended abruptly when he accidentally stepped on her foot as they took their places in line to go out to recess. No matter how many times he apologized, she wouldn’t forgive him. But who needs a high-strung girl like that anyway? He quickly moved on to share his Twinkies with an adorable Asian girl who was much sweeter.

Back then, I felt no need to offer advice. But now, as he’s putting his toe in the water of love, I wonder whether to give him some advice, to tell him what to expect, to prepare him for the crazy world of dating. Should I share some of the female perspective, tell him some of our trade secrets? Or should I let him learn on his own? And do any of the rules that applied back when I was dating twenty-three years ago even apply in today’s world? As a romance writer, I feel like I should be an expert on this topic. But I feel woefully inadequate!

Some things about the male-female relationship seem so instinctual that they don’t change. Men will always enjoy a conquest. They don’t tend to value a woman who’s too easily won over. Women seek a man whom they can trust to stick around, through good times and bad. The best relationships are those in which the two partners bring out the best in each other. It sounds so simple doesn’t it?

But where emotions are involved, nothing is ever simple.

My mother offered me only two pieces of dating advice. One, it’s just as easy to love a rich man. And, two, when a relationship has run its course, don’t embarrass the guy by telling him outright that it’s over. It’ll die a natural death on its own.

As to the first piece of advice, she was probably right. On the second, though, I think it would have been better for me to be honest with some of the guys I dated when I felt it was time to move on. Pretending to be busy and subtly rejecting them didn’t go over too well and probably only caused more confusion and hurt. On the other hand, a guy I was dating once showed up at my house with a hickey on his neck - from another girl! I’m assuming he came to the door to break up with me, though I never found out for sure since I simply slammed the door in his face. Maybe there’s something to be said for subtlety after all. : )

I need your help! Do I give my son advice and, if so, what advice do I give? What is the best and worst dating advice that you received? What dating advice did you pass on to your children?

Thanks for your input!!!

Diane Kelly's debut romantic mystery novel - Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure - will be released on November 1st by St. Martin's Press. Visit www.dianekelly.com for details.

The Gift of a Good Book - by Diane Kelly

Yesterday, I attended a baby shower. My gift? Why, books, of course!

As both a writer and an avid reader, I enjoy picking out books for gifts. Books have always had a special place in my life and, when I think back on my childhood, I can create a virtual chronology based on the books I read at the various stages.

I remember reading a book called “The Fat Cat” when I was pre-school age. The fat cat swallowed people whole, including a man named Sir Hottentot and another named Sir Linksalot. Of course, with such a high-protein diet, the cat became extraordinarily obese. Fortunately for both the cat and his victims, all problems were resolved when someone cut the fat feline open and the men he’d swallowed emerged miraculously alive, like Chilean miners. The cat also survived the surgery, though he was no longer fat after the tummy tuck procedure.

When I was in second grade, I’d sometimes sneak into my oldest sister’s room when I was feeling especially brave and read a book of scary stories and poems she had. I can still recite part of one of the poems that scared the bejeezus out of me:

Something lurks upon the stair,
Something that is,
And isn’t,
There.

Yikes! It still scares me!

As an adolescent, I adored Laura Ingalls Wilder’s “Little House” books. They took me back to a simpler time - you know, when women had to sew clothes by hand for their family and wash them by beating them on a rock in a creek. So much simpler than these days of Abercrombie and Fitch and washing machines, right?

I also remember a book called “The Witches Buttons” in which two girls were given magical buttons by an old woman. One of the buttons made them invisible, and another caused them to shrink and pulled them inside where they could fly the button like a spaceship. I must’ve read that book a dozen times. There was also a book called “The Secret Language” about two roommates at a boarding school who developed a secret language to communicate. Their greatest wish was that their families’ issues could be resolved so that they could move back home and live with their parents. Kinda sad, huh?

One creepy book I read was called “Dorp Dead” in which, for reasons I can’t recall, a pre-teen boy is forced to live in an isolated house with a man who suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder. The man is cruel and imposes strict, harsh rules on the boy. The boy discovers the man is building a cage to keep him in and somehow manages to escape. Before the boy leaves, he picks up a rock to scratch “Drop Dead” on the man’s front door, but ends up misspelling the word “drop,” an irony which is sure to cause the man to go into an obsessive-compulsive meltdown.

At a slightly older age, I’d test my brain power with Encyclopedia Brown books. I could never seem to solve the puzzles, though when I read the answers, which always seemed obvious, I managed to convince myself that I would’ve solved the mystery if only I’d given myself a few seconds longer to mull it over. Yeah, right.

Later, when I had my own children, one of my greatest joys was reading bedtime stories to them. Cuddling with them in their beds with a good book, putting my nose to their soft hair to sniff their baby shampoo scent, what a gift that special time was. I must’ve read “Jamberry” to my kids a thousand times. I could probably still recite it by heart. (It’s one of the books I bought for the baby shower.) I read my kids all of the Dr. Seuss books I’d loved as a kid, as well as “Go, Dog, Go!” and “Are You My Mother?” When they outgrew the bedtime story ritual, I cried. There’s nothing like bonding with your child over a good book.

What books did you enjoy as a child? Were they the same books you read with your children and grandchildren? Do you have a special book you've received or given as a gift?

Dance as if No One is Watching - by Diane Kelly

Dancing as if no one is watching . . . with a fish bowl on her head!

My daughter is on a competitive dance team and danced in no less than seven numbers this season, including ballet, tap, jazz, and lyrical, both as small groups and as a production team of over forty girls all on stage at once. This past weekend, I crawled out of bed at the crack of dawn and spent all day Saturday in a crowded theater watching dress rehearsals and all day Sunday at the two recitals. I sat for so long my legs and butt fell asleep.

And I loved every second of it!

My daughter takes classes four days a week and teaches younger girls on a fifth day. She never tires of dancing. When I’m in the kitchen, I often hear her feet stomping in her bedroom over my head, tapping out a number. Her size nine-and-a-half feet sometimes stomp a bit too hard and break a light bulb in the kitchen below, but it’s a small price for us to pay. I’m thrilled she has found something she is so passionate about.

I recently saw the quote “Dance as if No One is Watching.” I can’t recall whether it was on a refrigerator magnet or a garden stone, but either way the words resonated with me. The words inspire us to indulge our passions without regard to what others might think.

Such wonderful advice.

An age-old piece of advice often given to writers is “Write as if everyone you know were dead.” In a sense, these words are saying something similar to the dance quote. Essentially, both are telling us to do what we would do if we didn’t have to answer to anyone else, if we didn’t have to fear criticism. It’s only by letting loose that we can truly discover all that we are capable of, right?

Yet . . .

Isn’t there some value in criticism, too? After all, if we dance as if someone is watching, might we not strive harder to refine our technique, to put on a crowd-pleasing show, to perfect our skills? If we write as if people we know will read our work, might we not strive to write something impressive, well-crafted, and marketable?

What are your thoughts on this subject? We’d love to hear them!

Diane Kelly's debut romantic mystery - Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure - will be released on November 1st and is available for pre-order now at online booksellers.

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT by Diane Kelly

My daughter, who is a junior in high school, is at that wonderful phase of life when she’s deciding what she wants to do with her future. With creativity and intelligence, a near-perfect GPA, and an abundance of ambition, she can do virtually anything she wants to - except become a doctor or test pilot. She’s got too weak a stomach for either.

Should she attend an art school? Maybe, but there would be no fun football games to attend. A large public university? Such a place would enable an easy change of majors should her career aspirations shift, but one can sometimes feel lost at a big school. Should she remain in the state, where tuition will be cheaper and she can come home frequently for free laundry service? Or should she spread her wings (and stretch her parents’ finances) by looking into out-of-state schools?

As I was talking to her about her options, I realized that what’s actually occurring here is far more than a college and career choice. She’s figuring out who it is she wants to become, where she fits best into this crazy world we live in.

She’s engaging in character development.

Her personal process is very similar to the character development process a novelist goes through for the fictional people who star in their stories. Character development is one of the things I love about writing, and my stories are always character driven. I start with a character – such as Tara Holloway, the butt-kicking Treasury agent who stars in my “Death and Taxes” series (pictured above) – and then figure out more about who this character is, where she’s come from and where she’s going, and what can happen to her that will teach her things not only about the world around her, but also about herself. Though my books are light and entertaining, I’d like to think they bring some larger issues to the table, though in a subtle way.

Like characters in a story, all of us are constantly finding our place in this world, sometimes readjusting how we see ourselves or where we fit in. Our own personal character development never stops. None of us are the same person today that we were ten or twenty years ago, and we’ll be someone different ten or twenty years from now. We aren’t necessarily striving to achieve some type of “ideal” version of ourselves, because what we might consider ideal can and will change. Rather, we’re in a constant process of self-development and self-discovery. And isn’t it fun?

Here are some things I’ve learned about myself and the world in the last few years:

1) I’m no longer the diehard social butterfly I once was. Although I enjoy an occasional get together, I enjoy being alone sometimes, too. And that’s perfectly okay!

2) Although I exercise somewhat regularly for health reasons, I’m simply not willing to do what it takes to have a perfect beach body. There are other things that mean much more to me than abs of steel.

3) I admire people who have convictions and stick to them, yet I have a low tolerance for intolerant people. As a result, I will sometimes feel conflicted about others who seem narrow minded. But I’ve also learned it’s okay for me to hold conflicting opinions about others. These feelings don't necessarily have to be resolved.

What are some things you’ve discovered about yourself?

There Goes Peter Cottontail! by Diane Kelly

No matter what your religious persuasion, I hope all of you had a wonderful weekend!

Easter weekend got me thinking. Well, actually, it got me singing. The hubby and kids weren’t too amused by my nonstop rendition of “Here Comes Peter Cottontail.” Yep, I’m tone deaf. But hey, I figure having to listen to my awful singing is payback for the fact that all of them got to sleep in on the Good Friday holiday and I had to get up at six a.m. to let the dogs out. Grrr….

At any rate, singing about Peter Cottontail got me thinking about the Easter Bunny, which got me thinking about beliefs and believability. While on my journey to publication, I entered many contests and worked with a couple of agents. While the vast majority of those who read my work loved the humor and crazy antics of my heroine, IRS Criminal Investigator Tara Holloway, occasionally I’d run across someone who noted that, although they enjoyed the story, things could never happen exactly as presented in my book.

My response? Of course they couldn’t!

Reality is dull. Boring. Predictable. People generally behave in the real world, restrain themselves from saying what they truly feel and hold back from doing risky, crazy things.

But where’s the fun in that?

When I got my first revision letter from my editor, she said how much she enjoyed my over-the-top humorous scenes and asked for more of them. I squealed in delight. She’d given me free rein to put in lots more funny scenarios! There’s nothing I love more than writing a totally wacky scene. And since my books are intended as pure entertainment, not a literary life-changing event, plausibility can take a back seat to fun.

That said, I have watched movies and read books where reality was suspended a bit too much for me and I just couldn’t buy into the story. I was a bit disappointed when the movie “The Firm” was released. Though the book followed proper legal procedures, as an attorney I was bothered by some of the legal inaccuracies in the film. My husband, who is a biochemist, didn’t enjoy “Jurassic Park” as much as I did because he had a hard time buying the alleged process by which the dinosaur DNA was extracted from insects preserved in tree sap and grown into actual animals.

For those of you looking for an entertaining read, I hope you’ll find my debut novel to be one. In book #1 – “Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure” – you’ll meet my heroine, Tara Holloway, a special agent for IRS Criminal Investigations. For her third birthday, her dad presented her with a BB gun. Being a daddy’s girl and having a gun nut for a father, Tara naturally became an expert marksman. She’s able to shoot with drop-dead accuracy, a skill that comes in handy several times throughout the story.

Is my story 100% believable? Probably not. But is it fun? People tell me it is.

Here’s a question for us to ponder: How plausible does a story have to be in order to engage a reader?

Diane Kelly’s debut novel, “Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure,” will be released on November 1st and is available for preorder now at the Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Borders websites.

Top Ten Signs You're a Writer on a Deadline - by Diane Kelly

I used to wonder why writers seemed to disappear when they were on a deadline. I assumed that if they simply managed their time better a deadline would be no big deal.

Boy was I naïve!

I just faced my first real deadline with book #2 in my Death and Taxes Series. I’m thrilled with my draft for “Death, Taxes, and a Skinny No-Whip Latte” and even finished a couple of days early. But I have to admit, I suffered momentary bouts of total panic. Basically, when a writer is on a deadline, everything – AND I DO MEAN EVERYTHING! – goes by the wayside until the project is completed. There’s simply not time to complete your project and live any semblance of a normal life.

Having compared my experience with other authors, I’ve come up with the Top Ten Signs You’re a Writer on a Deadline:

1) Your last three meals consisted of cold cereal, potato chips, and that unidentifiable sludge from the Tupperware in the back of the fridge.

2) Your kids are smiling mischievously because they’ve gotten away with something you didn’t catch them doing.

3) You can’t see the top of your desk, your coffee table, or any of your kitchen countertops because all of them are covered with neglected paperwork, laundry, and dishes.

4) Your toenails now resemble claws.

5) Your eyebrows have merged into one giant unibrow.

6) You’ve been wearing – and sleeping in – the same clothes for the past week.

7) You spray yourself with Lysol because it’s faster than showering.

8) Your legs now resemble a cave woman’s since there’s been no time to shave.

9) Even if you could find time to shower and shave, it wouldn’t matter because you’ve neglected to pay your bills and your water has been shut off.

10) Your husband hasn’t requested that you fulfill certain wifely duties due to #4 – #9 above.

When you get busy, what do you have to let go of? We'd love to hear it!

Diane Kelly is the author of the "Death & Taxes" humorous mystery series from St. Martin's Press. Her debut novel, "Death, Taxes, and a French Manicure", is available for pre-order now at the Amazon, Borders, and Barnes & Noble sites, and will be in bookstores November 1st.

I Want to be a Cowgirl - by guest blogger Ann Charles

Cowgirl Ann Charles, Author of the Deadwood Mystery Series


I recently presented my tax workshop at the Greater Seattle Romance Writers chapter and wow! What a group of talented and smart women! One of the writers I met was Ann Charles. Once I met Ann, I knew we had to have her as a guest on our blog. Ann is the author of the Deadwood Mystery Series and, like the authors here at the Killer Fiction Blog, writes books with smart, strong heroines.

THIS BREAKING NEWS JUST IN - ANN'S NEARLY DEPARTED IN DEADWOOD IS A FINALIST IN THE ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA GOLDEN HEART CONTEST!!!!!

Here's what people are saying about Ann's release:

"This gem has a bit of everything...mystery, romance, comedy, suspense, and even a bit of the paranormal. Ann Charles has a winner in Violet Parker. I have a new favorite author in the mystery genre! ***** FIVE STARS!" ~Huntress Reviews

"Watch out Stephanie Plum, because Violet Parker is coming your way." ~Deborah Schneider, RWA Librarian of the Year 2009 & author of Promise Me

"It's no wonder Nearly Departed in Deadwood won the best overall book for the 2010 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense!" ~Susan Schreyer, author Death By A Dark Horse

"Nearly Departed in Deadwood is a delightful mix of on the edge suspense and laugh-out-loud humor. Ann Charles is a star in the making!" ~Gerri Russell, award-winning author of Seducing the Knight

* * *
From the back cover:

The first time I came to Deadwood, I got shot in the ass.--Violet Parker

Irony is having a big ol' fiesta and Violet Parker is the piñata. Little girls are vanishing from Deadwood, South Dakota, and Violet's daughter could be next. Short on time and long on worry, she's desperate to find the monster behind the abductions. But with her jerkoff co-worker trying to get her fired, a secret admirer sending creepy love poems, and a sexy-as-hell stranger hiding skeletons in his closet, Violet just might end up as one of Deadwood's dearly departed.

And with no further adieu, let's welcome Ann to the Killer Fiction Writers Blog! - Diane Kelly


I Want to be a Cowgirl
by Ann Charles

For many, many moons, I’ve wanted a pair of purple cowboy boots. But being that I live in Seattle where cowboy boots are more of a fashion extravagance than a day-to-day essential clothing item, I keep putting it off. However, the inner cowgirl in me has come up with a rather ingenious plan to make those purple cowboy boots a necessity. But before I tell you her idea, let me backtrack a little to explain who I am, and why the marvelous and super smart Diane “Killer” Kelly asked me to come hang out with you all at Killer Fiction today.

I grew up on a small farm in Ohio. We didn’t wear cowboy hats, we didn’t ride horses. We farmed. Period. The land was flat, the sky was always powder blue in the summer due to so much humidity. We bucked bales in John Deere hats and plain old work boots. But many evenings, as I watched the sun set on the western horizon, I daydreamed about moving out West, living on a ranch, being a cowgirl.

After high school, I moved to Southern California. Beach bum was more my style then. A few years later, Flagstaff, Arizona became my stomping grounds. Sure, there were cowboys there, but I was attending Northern Arizona University, known as a “granola” college. Cowboy hats were a rarity. From Arizona, I jumped to Seattle. Grunge was the name of the game at the time. No cowboy anything to be had.

By this time in my life, I’d started writing stories. Funny thing about these stories—most of them took place out West. Most had cowboy elements or characters in them. Most held elements of the daydreams belonging to that young farm girl from Ohio.

A few years ago, I paid a visit to my mother in Deadwood, South Dakota. She’d moved there back when I was in junior high, and I was lucky enough to visit her in the Black Hills every summer for over a month at a time while growing up. (Note: Deadwood is full of cowboys.

Anyway, while driving into Deadwood, an idea for a story hit me. It involved a single mother of twins, a new job in a new career in a new town—Deadwood. I chose Violet for her name, wanting something old-fashioned. I wanted her to be witty and sassy, strong yet compassionate, determined and too curious for her own good. And I wanted her to have a pair of purple cowboy boots.

Over the next several months, I wrote Violet’s story, titled Nearly Departed in Deadwood. The struggle for publication was long and full of frustration and near misses with big New York publishers. In the end, there publishers repeatedly expressed doubt about Violet’s story appealing to a “big” enough audience. But I knew in my heart there was a big audience for Violet. I knew that tastes for stories weren’t the same for mid-westerners and westerners as those who live in New York, and my gut told me Violet would find a following. So, I partnered with a small press publisher, pulled all of the strings I could reach, asked my brother to draw the cover and the interior art, and went to print, both in ebook and trade paperback.

The promotion work started years ago, as friends and family and fellow authors watched me struggle to obtain publication, take my fair share beatings, but never give up. By the time Nearly Departed in Deadwood came out in ebook, it already had a large team of supporters determined to see it succeed. Since publication, volunteers have freely given their time to help spread the word. The city of Deadwood and surrounding towns have joined in the movement. Now, Violet’s fanbase is growing stronger by the day, readers loving her sense of humor and cheering her determination to succeed.

But what does this have to do with that ingenious plan to score a pair of purple boots (did I mention the boots I want cost $400)? Simple—Violet Parker’s talisman is her purple boots. As you read her story, you come learn the importance of these boots. They even made the cover!

As I promote the book, readers want posters and key chains and magnets with the purple boots on them. When I show up at a book signing, they expect me to represent Violet. To be witty and sassy, to be strong yet compassionate, and most importantly—to wear those purple cowboy boots. So you see, thanks to Violet and Nearly Departed in Deadwood, I now have the perfect excuse to buy those purple cowboy boots.

Finally, this farm girl from Ohio gets to be a cowgirl, like I dreamed of doing so long ago.

What about you? Do you have any old daydreams that have come true that you want to share? Or any fun stories about your author journey? Did you daydream about being a cowgirl or cowboy when you were a kid, too?

Thank you, Diane, for inviting me to be on the Killer Fiction blog today. It’s a huge honor to get to hang out with you all!

Ann Charles
www.anncharles.com/deadwood

Excerpt:

Chapter One
Deadwood, South Dakota
Monday, July 9th

The first time I came to Deadwood, I got shot in the ass. Now, twenty-five years later, as I stared into the double barrels of Old Man Harvey’s shotgun, irony was having a fiesta and I was the piñata.

I tried to produce a polite smile, but my cheeks had petrified along with my heart. “You wouldn’t shoot a girl, would you?”

Old Man Harvey snorted, his whole face contorting with the effort. “Lady, I’d blow the damned Easter bunny’s head off if he was tryin’ to take what’s mine.”

He cocked his shotgun—his version of an exclamation mark.

“Whoa!” I would have gulped had there been any spit left in my mouth. “I’m not here to take anything.”

He replied by aiming those two barrels at my chest instead of my face.

“I’m with Calamity Jane Realty, I swear! I came to ...”

With Harvey threatening to fill my lungs with peepholes, I had trouble remembering why I’d driven out to this corner of the boonies. Oh, yeah. Lowering one of my hands, I held out my crushed business card. “I want to help you sell your ranch.”
The double barrels clinked against one of the buttons on my Rebecca Taylor-knockoff jacket as Harvey grabbed my card. I swallowed a squawk of panic and willed the soles of my boots to unglue from the floorboards of Harvey’s front porch and retreat. Unfortunately, my brain’s direct line to my feet was experiencing technical difficulties.

Harvey’s squint relaxed. “Violet Parker, huh?”

“That’s me.” My voice sounded pip-squeaky in my own ears. I couldn’t help it. Guns made my thighs wobbly and my bladder heavy. Had I not made a pit stop at Girdy’s Grill for a buffalo burger and paid a visit to the little Hens room, I’d have a puddle in the bottom of my favorite cowboy boots by now.

“Your boots match your name. What’s a ‘Broker Associate’?”

“It’s someone who is going to lose her job if she doesn’t sell a house in the next three weeks.” I lowered my other hand.

I’d been with Calamity Jane Realty for a little over two months and had yet to make a single sale. So much for my radical, life-changing leap into a new career. If I didn’t make a sale before my probation was up, I’d have to drag my kids back down to the prairie and bunk with my parents ... again.

“You’re a lot purtier in this here picture with your hair down.”

“So I’ve been told.” Old Man Harvey seemed to be channeling my nine-year-old daughter today. Lucky me.

“Makes you look younger, like a fine heifer.”

I cocked my head to the side, unsure if I’d just been tossed a compliment or slapped with an insult.

The shotgun dipped to my belly button as he held the card out for me to take back.
“Keep it. I have plenty.” A whole box full. They helped fill the lone drawer in my desk back at Calamity Jane’s.

“So that asshole from the bank didn’t send you?”

“No.” An asshole from my office had, and the bastard would be extracting his balls from his esophagus for this so-called generous referral—if I made it back to Calamity Jane’s without looking like a human sieve.

“Then how’d you know about my gambling problem?”

“What gambling problem?”

Old Man Harvey’s eyes narrowed again. He whipped the double barrels back up to my kisser. “The only way you’d know I’m thinking about selling is if you heard about my gambling debt.”

“Oh, you mean that gambling problem.”

“What’d you think I meant?”

Bluffing was easier when I wasn’t chatting up a shotgun. “I thought you were referring to the ... um ...” A tidbit of a phone conversation I’d overheard earlier this morning came to mind. “To the problem you had at the Prairie Dog Palace.”
Harvey’s jaw jutted. “Mud wrestling has no age limit.”

“You’re right. They need to be less age-biased. Maybe even have an AARP Night every Wednesday.”

“Nobody told me about the bikini bit ‘til it was too late.”

I winced. I couldn’t help it.

“So, what’re you gonna charge me to sell my place?”

“What would you like me to charge you?” I was all about pleasing the customer this afternoon.

He leaned the gun on his shoulder, double barrels pointed at the porch ceiling. “The usual, I guess.”

No longer on the verge of extinction, I used the porch rail to keep from keeling over. Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the realty business. Did they still sell encyclopedias door-to-door?

“This ranch belonged to my pappy, and his pappy before him.” Harvey’s lips thinned as he stared over my shoulder.

“It must hold a big place in your heart.” I tried to sound sincere as I inched along the railing toward the steps. My red Bronco glinted and beckoned under the July sun.

“Hell, no. I can’t wait to shuck this shithole.”

“What?” I’d made it as far as the first step.

“I’m sick and tired of fixin’ rusted fences, chasing four-wheeling fools through my pastures, sniffing out lost cows in every damned gulch and gully.” His blue eyes snapped back to mine. “And I keep hearing funny noises at night coming from out behind my ol’ barn.”

I followed the nudge of his bearded chin. Weathered and white-washed by Mother Nature, the sprawling building’s roof seemed to sag in the afternoon heat. The doors were chained shut, one of the haymow windows broken. “Funny how?”

“Like grab-your-shotgun funny.”

Normally, this might give me pause, but after the greeting I’d received today from the old codger’s double barrels, I had a feeling that Harvey wore his shotgun around the house like a pair of holey underwear. I’d bet my measly savings he even slept with it. “Maybe it’s just a mountain lion,” I suggested. “The paper said there’s been a surge of sightings lately.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Harvey shrugged. “I don’t care. I want to move to town. It gets awful lonely out here come wintertime. Start thinking about things that just ain’t right. I almost married a girl from Taiwan last January. Turned out ‘she’ was really a ‘he’ from Nigeria.”

“Wow.”

“Damned Internet.” Harvey’s gaze washed over me. “What about you, Violet Parker?”

“What about me?”

“There’s no ring on your finger. You got a boyfriend?”

“Uh, no.”

I didn’t want one, either. Men had a history of fouling up my life, from burning down my house to leaving me knocked up with twins. These days, I liked my relationships how I liked my eggs: over-easy.

Harvey’s two gold teeth twinkled at me through his whiskers. “Then how about a drink? Scotch or gin?”

I chewed on my lip, considering my options. I could climb into my Bronco and watch this opportunity and the crazy old bastard with the trigger-happy finger disappear in my rearview mirror; or I could blow off common sense and follow Harvey in for some hard liquor and maybe a signed contract.

Like I really had a choice. “Do you have any tonic?”


VISIT ANN AT www.ANNCHARLES.com! Links to buy Ann's books can be found at: http://anncharles.com/deadwood/?page_id=366