You see I realized at some point that I had the two next books: A Well Inlaid Death and the one after that, Chalked up, crossed, and once I pulled them apart, the least done was of course AWID which is will be the first. So I’m head down trying to finish it.
At the same time, Morrigan Sanders has started working on the audio book of Dipped Stripped and Dead, of which I’m posting a sample.
This particular sample is displeasing to her, and she is now re-recording it with a pop filter, as well as other editing stuff, but I already find the way she gave voice to Dyce very good, so she allowed me to share this.
And, for your amusement, the opening of A Well Inlaid Death:
It’s A Lethal Day for a White Wedding
The morning after my second wedding, I woke up with someone knocking at our door, and my parents’ voices calling, “Wake up, Sherlockia” and “We want to talk about the murder.”
My name is not Sherlockia, which would, by itself, be cause for murder. In fact, had I been named Sherlockia, it is unlikely I would have parents to wake me up on the day after my wedding. They would have died messily as soon as they understood what they’d done.
In fact, my parents had almost divorced because Father wanted to call me Sherlockia, while Mother wished to call me Agatha. They’d met in a candy store, to resolve their differences, and since Mother went into labor there, in a moment of weakness, they’d named me Candyce Chocolat Dare. Which meant I only needed to hide my middle name and go by Dyce to seem almost completely normal, and not call attention to the fact that I was the daughter of the crazy owners of the town’s mystery bookstore.
At their pounding on the door, my new husband, Castor Wolfe – yes, we had bonded over our strange names – groaned. I glared at the bedside clock that showed seven am.
We had somehow gotten ourselves quite tangled and also quite naked. It took us a moment to figure out which legs were whose, and somewhat longer to find our robes. I was almost completely awake by the time Cas said, “What in the world are they thinking?”
“They aren’t,” I said. They’re just excited about the murder, and think we must be too.
“On our honeymoon?” Cas asked. “How—”
By that time I had my robe mostly on, though I couldn’t seem to find the sleeve hole for my right arm. I extended my naked hand, and grabbed Cas’s forearm.
“Don’t divorce me!” I said, urgently.
He looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, which only led me to say again, “Please?” because I figured sudden mutation was a reason for divorce, if anything was.
“Oh please,” he said. “I’ve known your parents for over a year.”
I should point out that Morrigan also thinks it's a little "muddy" which is why she's doing it again. Her auditory acuity is so far more than mine that I can't judge.
Looking forward to reading both!