This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. M. Jayne LaDow will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
People imagine writers living glamorous lives—typing away in cozy coffee shops, inspiration flowing like wine, manuscripts practically writing themselves.
My reality? I write in the cracks.
A sentence here while the coffee brews. A paragraph there between loading the dishwasher and figuring out what’s for dinner. I used to write sitting next to my mother-in-law during our afternoon TV sessions in her final years. Now I write from my recliner, usually with all three cats staging a hostile takeover of my workspace.
Gino is the boss. He doesn’t sit on the laptop—he just stares at me with those unblinking cat eyes until I bend to his will, which usually involves stopping mid-sentence to provide chin scratches. Jonesy is the cuddler, determined to wedge his entire fluffy body between the keyboard and my arms, oozing over the keys like some kind of purring lava flow. And George? George wants to play. Constantly. He brings me toys to throw, strings to dangle, and the unwavering belief that right now is the perfect time for fetch, regardless of whether I’m mid-sex-scene or trying to figure out whodunit.
On a good day, I knock out several thousand words. On a bad day, I do literally everything except write—reorganize my files, scroll social media (which takes up the most time, let’s be honest), convince myself I need to research 1997 fashion trends for the fourth time, and maybe vacuum.
I get ideas constantly—at the food bank while sorting cans, making dinner, in the shower. I’ve learned to write them down or record voice memos wherever I am. Yes, people look at me weird when I start muttering plot points in the cereal aisle. Eh.
My bestie and I book-talk daily. Right now we’re reading Fake as Puck by Sarah Smith (very spicy, highly recommend). Soon it’ll be Christmas romances and cozy mysteries, because we’re seasonal like that. She keeps me sane and reminds me why I love reading and writing in the first place.
I manage my own social media and online presence—not very well, but I try. I post five days a week even though I’m pretty sure no one’s listening. I volunteer with Creative Footnotes, help out at the food bank, and somehow juggle it all.
And my family? They think it’s hilarious. Every time I mention a new book, one of them asks if this one has Fabio on the cover or if there are sweaty pirates involved.
The answer is no. But honestly? There probably should be.
She set out to solve a mystery, not to fall in love.
In 1997 Virginia Beach, some truths refuse to stay buried…
Dani Jones is used to lesson plans and late-night grading, not murder. But when a student’s uncle confronts her after class and then disappears, her world tilts. Days later, during a Chesapeake Bay cleanup, she is there when his body is found, hidden in the marsh. As the last person to see him alive, Dani is suddenly at the center of a mystery that rattles the quiet coastal town.
Enter Gavin Larkhurst, a sharp-tongued radio newsman with a protective streak. His feelings for Dani make him desperate to keep her safe—even when she refuses to stop digging. But trust is fragile when danger lurks around every corner, and someone will do anything to keep the past buried.
Equal parts mystery and romance, A Pilgrimage of Whispered Truths is a spicy whodunit about uncovering secrets, risking your heart, and the lessons that change everything.
Enjoy an Excerpt
The ocean had always been her refuge. Even now, with storm clouds bruising the horizon, Dani walked the shoreline barefoot, the wind tugging strands of hair across her face. The water hissed over the sand like something whispering secrets it could no longer keep.
She tried to quiet her mind—to let the rhythm of the waves wash away the questions still circling like gulls. But the past few days wouldn’t let her rest: Carl Rendell’s fury, the burned church, Brian’s haunted silence. Each memory rose and fell with the tide, reshaping itself into something sharper.
A flash of color caught her eye—a shard of glass half-buried near her foot. She bent to pick it up. Red, warped by heat. A fragment of stained glass.
Her breath hitched.
She turned it over in her palm, the edges cutting faintly into her skin, and for a moment she imagined the flames reflected there, licking at the sky. The wind howled, cold and certain.
Whatever she’d stumbled into, it wasn’t finished with her yet.
She slipped the shard into her pocket, the salt wind stinging her eyes, and kept walking toward the dark line of the pier, where the sea met the secrets she could no longer ignore.
About the Author:
M. Jayne LaDow is a playwright and author who leapt into writing romance after thirty-three years wrangling middle school English students. Her rom-coms and spicy cozy mysteries are inspired by her years in education, where she was regularly pied in the face, sang classroom karaoke, and dressed up like characters from novels.
She’s the author of The Marchfield Series — One Night Stands and Lesson Plans, Learning Goals and Dancing Poles, Pop Quizzes and Stolen Kisses, Tardy Pass, No Questions Asked, and the upcoming Budget Cuts and Midnight Lust — and the Tides of Truth Series, beginning with A Pilgrimage of Whispered Truth: A Steamy Cozy Mystery set in 1997 Virginia Beach.
She firmly believes every great story starts with a dash of trouble and a happily ever after.
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