Author Peggy A. Edelheit is interviewed by Marcia Carrington in a new post on Marcia’s website.
As Marcia says “I have the great pleasure of welcoming Peggy Edelheit, author of the Samantha Jamison mystery series, and non-fiction memoir THE RIVIERA IS BURNING, to Marcia’s Book Talk.”
Q: Have any life experiences inspired you to write your books?
A: All of my mysteries have some true life experiences weaved throughout them. I’m not admitting to which experiences or how many of them are…chuckle. I leave that to the imagination/enjoyment of the reader deciphering those mysteries….
I’m working on #11 in the Samantha Jamison Mystery Series.
Working title: The Cane Conspiracy
‘Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive.’ – Sir Walter Scott
Author Peggy A. Edelheit is interviewed by Uvi Poznansky in a new post on her website.
How much truth comes into play when writing your continuing mystery series?
Samantha made her debut as my protagonist in Book 1, The Puzzle, which takes place in Highlands, North Carolina. As a widow, Samantha Jamison, an author, revisits her husband’s past to solve the mystery surrounding his questionable death. The reader is shown how Samantha grows and changes both as a woman and author. By the end of the book, as a novelist, Sam decides she enjoys, and is good at, solving unusual mysteries.
I couldn’t have expressed this homage to my mother and to all the mothers out there better
Mother. A word so easily taken for granted because mothers are always there to support, comfort and encourage. In a mother’s eyes, nothing is insurmountable. I now brush what I’ve seen, felt and experienced, framing it in love, compassion and faith, while others will fill their own with other shades and hues. Continue reading
New: Book 10
Samantha gets drawn in by a handsome stranger, a mysterious young woman, a ship’s historical mystery, two unsolved deaths, and buried treasure, while writing about her own personal history growing up and how it shaped her into who she is today.
This family story took place at our house during the holidays. As usual, the whole family showed up Christmas Eve for food and fun. It was a wonderful time with pictures taken, family stories retold of family pranks from years past. And before we knew it the hour was late. Little ones needed to go to bed, older ones were exhausted, so we all decided to call it a night.
There was a constant stream of family filing out the side door with goodies and gifts to take home, as hugs and kisses were exchanged. My husband and I sighed from happiness and exhaustion as the last one filed out. We turned out the lights and made our way up the stairs to our bedroom delighted everyone had a great time. Continue reading
Do you remember the old adage: when handed lemons, make lemonade? Well, that is exactly what I did while writing my 8th book, The Lush Life, in my Samantha Jamison Mystery Series. I was trying to tie up that mystery and could almost see the end in sight, but unfortunately, a terrible accident happened. As I was researching a scene in the book (which involved climbing & descending 150 year old dimly lit steps in an old Victorian cottage) my foot went off the edge of a lower step on the way down. My right foot twisted to the side and bent sideways. I heard bones crack as I fell hard to the enclosed landing in a heap after bouncing off the walls.
Descriptions & Grammatical Errors – Excerpt from The Lush Life #8
Definition of an anomaly: Something that deviates from what is considered normal or expected, an inconsistency. That pretty much summed up my relationship with Clay, which wasn’t exactly what you’d call normal. We stayed in the same place with irregularity. Our whole relationship was a definite-maybe.
Clay and I go way back to when I was chasing down leads to find out why my husband, Stephen, had died under suspicious circumstances. Little did I know at that time when I first met Clay, he was not only a quaint bookshop owner, but also a very sly PI: a private investigator. Continue reading
Too Close For Comfort
“Ouch!” he protested, flinching in discomfort.
“That was a warning,” I said. “Touch me again and…”
“It’s this cold cement floor we’re sitting on,” he griped.
I was furious. My red silk dress was probably ruined.
“Man up,” I said. “Have you heard me complaining?”
“Being such a hot broad, how would you understand?”
“Keep your compliments and hands to yourself,” I said.
He sighed. “I was just trying to shift my position.” Continue reading