COFFEE: Certifiably Odd Fictitious Freewheeling Ensuing Emphatically

I’m beginning to wonder if a writer needs coffee like a hobo needs patched clothing and holey socks. Really. Is there even such a thing as a writer without coffee? Can a person get into the mindset, the persona, of ‘writer’ without a cup of caffeinated goodness?

I’m convinced the answer to the above questions is a resounding NO. At least, I am convinced of it at this moment: The smell of coffee just belongs with books. Coffee is delicious. Coffee gives me energy when I’d rather take a nap than finish the chapter I realized I had to add just last week. Yeah, I’ll admit, I’m brewing it as I type.

In honor of coffee and all it has done for the public images of writers everywhere, I’ve decided to post an excerpt from my book, TO DIE FOR. Mmmm, coffee…

Collette pulled to a stop at one of the few stoplights in town and frowned. Flo was another person she hadn’t seen since her dad’s death. She groaned and considered slamming her head against the steering wheel then and there. Talk about burning bridges. If she could find Leah and get her to safety without stumbling across any more estranged friends she’d…well, she’d consider herself lucky.

The light turned green. Collette accelerated and shook her head, clearing the unwanted thoughts from her mind. She checked her rear-view mirror, noted Clacher’s unmarked car, and turned into a small corner parking lot under the flickering, faded sign that read The Coffee Creamer.

At least Flo was still in business. Collette’s few visits during the past ten years had revealed a painful truth: many of her favorite places had become vacant buildings during her absence. Unfortunately, a tiny population and the advent of online shopping had taken their tolls on local businesses.

She climbed out of her jeep and trudged into the building. Its scuffed black and white tiles and worn red countertops looked unchanged from her last visit. She slid into a booth in the back corner and kept an eye on the parking lot—Clacher pulled in a minute later.

“What can I get you, honey?” Flo towered above the table. Collette glanced up and smiled.

“Dark roast with raspberries,” she said. Flo scribbled on her pad and glanced down in astonishment.

“Only one girl I know would order that combo!” she slid her order book into the pocket of her apron and clapped Collette on the shoulder. “Long time no see! How are ya?”

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