I just pinged Ruth. I'm dying to know the colour scheme.

Wow wow wow. Just - WOW.

I think it's perfect.

Man, I want to have Marina Drukman's babies.

The catalogue copy is as follows:

MATTY GROVES
A Mystery
DEBORAH GRABIEN

Ringan Laine is hesitant to attend the Callowen House Arts festival. The house has a famous ghost, and after two close encounters with ghosts, Ringan and his lover Penny Wintercraft-Hawkes are not anxious to meet another. But they are relieved to find that this time no exorcism is required of them; Miles Leight-Arnold is quite proud of his family phantom.

What no one there knows is that there is another, fiercely evil ghost moving through the walls at Callowen House. Dormant for five centuries but awakened and seeking revenge for a lost lover, this ghost is driven to madness by the band’s flautist, Jane Castle, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the woman he loved.

Matty Groves adds the echoes of history, and the acts—and consequences—of days gone by to a very modern mystery.

Beautiful cover and great copy, Deb.

Deb, that's gorgeous! And a whole page in the catalog is very cool indeed. Can't wait to see it in color.

Love this week's drabble topic, too. Off to let it brew...

Drabble, describing my heroine from my original thriller (OT?)

Briefcase

Four granola bars, S'Mores flavor. Two small folders of CDs. The first one, music: blues, '80s rock, N*Sync and the American Idol compilation tucked in the back. The 2nd folder, software: Novell and Microsoft networking tools, but mostly burned CDs with cryptic notations in black Sharpie.

A paperback romance novel with an acrobatic pirate couple on the cover, bookmarked by a Tiffany receipt with charges on AMEX for watch battery replacement and a $2,800 gold necklace.

Two manila folders containing paperwork on corporate email configuration and computer communication over unreliable international networks.

Show, Don't Tell drabble:

At home, he emptied his pockets on the table inside the door. Out came his keys, on a plain ring with a white plastic tag. From his side pocket, loose change and a tube of Certs. From his back pocket came his wallet, worn black leather holding only his driver’s license, his library and credit cards, and a few bills. He withdrew his gun from its aging holster and his badge from his shirt pocket, laying them beside a carefully framed photo of a little girl about five, frozen mid-swing, curls flying, her grin as wide as the sky.

cereal drabbling...

This is connected to the first one -- it came out of nowhere when I was done. I'm whitefonting it in case some of you don't want to read it.

Show, Don't Tell drabble #2

“Items on the deceased?”

“Not much. She was wearing clean jeans, a red sweater. There was a sticker on her sweater—‘Clean Teeth Club,’ it said. Barbie underwear. Good sneakers—they look new—and white socks. Her hair was clean before…well, before, and she had two red, heart-shaped barrettes in it. Nails trimmed neatly. There was a RingPop in one pocket and a silver heart locket on a chain around her neck. A bear was found with her—it has a pink ribbon around its neck and what looks like a pink infant’s T-shirt on. Looks like an old friend.”

Oh Amy. Oh.

“Just a sec.”

She grabbed a softsided sixpack cooler from the front footwell. The lid was tucked inside it, along with a pack of those round drumhead window sunshades, a pack of stick-on mesh sun screens, a collapsible umbrella and a windshield ice-scraper stood upright, a tub of wet-wipes, a slim box of tissues, a notebook with a pen looped in the spiraled wire binding, a tire gauge, and a couple of maps. A pair of utility gloves hung over one side, allover plastic-dotted like the feet of toddler pjs. She put the cooler in back with the folded blanket. He got in.