Voice recognition mistake of the day: I'm sorry, voice recognition software, but there's a big difference between “arroyo bottom” and “a royal bottom.”🤴🍑

Hey, Cowboy! The publisher of my Accidental Billionaire Cowboys series has decided to rebrand the series with new titles and covers, hoping to appeal to a younger audience. These are the new covers. What do you think? Please note that these are not new novels! But if you missed any of the five books, you can get them in e-book or print at all major retailers. Find the links here.

In the Accidental Billionaire Cowboys sweet romance series, a Texas ranching family struggles to maintain their privacy and work ethic after an enormous lottery win. Can they build new dreams and find love amidst the chaos? Readers say: “Kris has a winning series here.”

“All of these books have been marvelous.”

“This has been one of my favorite cowboy series to read as it is so unexpected.”

It’s autumn in New Mexico, which is a great time to hike. Here’s a view from a recent hike in the Quebradas Backcountry.

Got a Book Club? Did you know you can get book club discussion questions for A Stone Cold Murder, the Accidental Detective Mystery series and/or the Furrever Friends Sweet Romance series?

The ferrets go camping.

Find More New Books and Authors!

Harbor Lights Christmas by Nina Potter: “Three years after losing his beloved wife, retired lighthouse keeper Tom Brennan moved to Alaska to escape memories. When the town needs someone to string Christmas lights around the harbor, Tom agrees to handle the technical work. When cheerful bookstore owner Melody Reeves is paired with Tom for the lighting project, she doesn't expect the gentle man hiding behind his gruff exterior. As they work side by side under Alaska's winter stars, Tom and Melody discover that some lights shine brightest in the darkness.” A sweet, later-in-life short read for 99 cents (Amazon only).

Spy Mystery Thrillers and Suspense Freebies: 🔎 LOOKING FOR A TWISTY WHODUNNIT??? 🔍 Check out these fun mysteries (cozy, traditional, paranormal & thriller) and you might find your next favorite series! Each is free w/newsletter signup (unsubscribe any time).

October Happily Ever After Deals: Sign up for newsletters and check out authors with a free story. You’ll find sweet romance with all your favorite tropes in the stories in this group. You might meet your next favorite author!

Tule Mystery Month Sale:  Nearly all mystery ebooks from Tule Publishing are still on sale for $1.99 on Amazon this month! Several of the Accidental Detective series and the two Reluctantly Psychic Murder Mysteries are $1.99 each! (Sale is Amazon only but you can request that other retailers price match.) See all my sale books or check out all the Tule mysteries.

A Stone Cold Murder excerpt Chapter 3 (part 3)

[In the Reluctant Psychic Mystery series, a quirky loner who can read the history of any object with her touch gets drawn into mysteries at the museum of oddities where she works. Petra was cleaning her new office at the Banditt Museum in a small New Mexico town. She is talking to her new boss, museum founder Peyton Banditt. Photos are from the Hammel Museum.]

  I scanned the items, mainly small mineral samples. Some geodes that had been cut and polished. Several pieces of iron pyrite, or fool’s gold, but none that the average person would mistake for real gold. A few minerals I didn’t recognize, but really nothing notable. Still, I found myself reluctant to touch anything. How odd that Reggie had literally walked away in the middle of sorting this box and never returned. Was it merely a coincidence that he had died—perhaps violently—right after starting to sort this new donation?

  A donation that was now mine to handle. I shivered despite the warm, stuffy room. What if Reggie Heap had been killed over something in this donation? I was definitely jumping from random guess to wild conclusion, but my thoughts kept racing ahead, driven by panic that logic couldn’t control. If that what if was true, then maybe whoever had killed him had taken whatever they wanted, and they wouldn’t be back. Finally, a comforting idea.

  But maybe not. Maybe they hadn’t found what they wanted yet. Maybe Reggie had been involved in something else, no idea what, that had gotten him attacked. Or maybe I was on the wrong track entirely. I was getting lightheaded again. When Peyton led the way back outside, I stumbled after him gratefully.

  He closed the workshop. “It doesn’t always latch properly, so be sure to check. I’ll have someone bring you that key this afternoon.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I looked up at the vivid blue New Mexico sky. It helped ease the claustrophobia of the storeroom, with the looming weight of all those artifacts ready to whisper their secrets. “I guess I’ll be busy for a while.”

  “When I started this museum, people thought I was crazy. For the first few months, when no one came, I wondered if they were right. But I kept building my collection. I helped people clear out their attics and hauled away what they saw as junk.”

  That sounded like my nightmares.

  He went on. “If someone had old mining equipment in their yard, I asked if I could take it. We advertised, put up a billboard along the highway—back in those days, no internet, no TripAdvisor or Yelp! And we grew, until I could quit my job, and then my wife could quit hers, and we could run the museum full-time.”

  I nodded. He’d basically told me the same thing during our interview. He was clearly proud of building the museum, and I guess anyone who follows a dream and succeeds should be proud.

  “Now I want to leave a legacy,” he said. “I thought my children would take over, but my son passed away, and the girls moved and married, and Kit . . . Kit isn’t ready. Well. At least I have some life in me yet! So we are going to take this from a quirky little roadside attraction”—that sounded like he was quoting something, maybe one of those online reviews—“to a museum respected around the world.”

  He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed, his grip strong enough that I buckled under it. “And you’re going to help me. Reggie was a mistake.” He let go and turned away, gazing out at the collection of trash—or treasure—littering the yard. “Poor fellow,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

  He turned back toward me. With the sun behind him, his face was in shadow, his white hair lit like a halo. “I hope you’ll fit in here. You don’t strike me as the type to quit and have kids at the first opportunity. This is a good place to live, if you can handle it. Ask Liberty. She’s been here over ten years. She pulled together a great Paleolithic display. Maybe a bit too academic though, with all the information about identifying arrowheads and spear points. People don’t want to do that much reading in a museum.”

  “Right.” Some kind of reply seemed necessary, although maybe he would keep talking regardless of my response, or my presence.

  I was still trying to process that bit about having kids. I didn’t plan or expect to have children, given the challenges I had dating or living with other people, but Peyton couldn’t know that. What had he seen that told him I wasn’t cut out to be a mother? I’m fairly average looking, I think. A bit androgynous with my short hair and lack of curves. Maybe he assumed I was gay. If so, it didn’t seem to bother him, which was a relief. One of my concerns about moving to such a small town was the fear that people would be less tolerant than I was used to.

  “I want our geology wing to be listed among the top mineral museums in the state,” he said.

  How many great mineral museums could a sparsely populated state like New Mexico have? I didn’t ask, but I made a mental note to do a search later. Maybe I could tour them and call it part of my job. That could be fun. And get me away from this place, if only for a few days.

  “I didn’t want a PhD for this position,” he said.

  Good thing, because he wasn’t paying enough for one.

  He paced, gesturing with his hands. “We want to appeal to the general public, lots of color and flash, but everything accurate too. Nothing that would let an academic scoff at the collection. Plenty to educate school groups.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know you will.” He beamed at me, an oddly proud look, more grandfather than new boss. It gave me a funny, twisty feeling inside. I didn’t want to suspect him of anything. I wanted to believe I’d found a lovely little place that could become my home, with interesting work and coworkers I respected and enjoyed, even if I had to hold them at arm’s length when they treated me like a friend.

  “Now you get along home to your animals,” he said. “We’ll have time enough for everything else. There’s a gate in that corner.” He pointed. “It has a combination lock, 1859, the year Billy the Kid was born.”

  “Cool.” I wasn’t sure I’d remember Billy the Kid’s birth year, but at least I could look it up if I forgot. For something to say, I added, “I’m looking forward to getting started.”

  Peyton beamed and patted my back again. “I think you’ll fit right in here.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a compliment, but he was probably right.

***

Mercury gets cozy on Rigby. What do you think they would say here if they could speak?

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Learn more about the Accidental Detective humorous mystery series, the Reluctant Psychic Mystery series, the Accidental Billionaire Cowboys sweet romance series,the Felony Melanie: Sweet Home Alabama romantic comedy novels, and the Furrever Friends cat cafe sweet romance series.