Book four has winged its way to my amazing editors, Raela and Luke, the remarkable team at Bethany House, and my stellar cover designer, Jenny. This was speed-writing at its best, and I loved the race as this story came to life through trips, plane malfunctions, hotel stays, coffee runs, and the sheer joy of knowing you all!
My agent-momma, Janet Kobobel Grant, who has my back like the fierce little mother she is. You are strength and savvy personified. I hope I can be even a little like you when I grow up.
Amy Green, you emailed me a podcast that launched this book and its dollhouse-forensics theme into happening. Thank you for thinking of me when you hear of murder and mayhem. Arsenic cheers to you and a friendly tap of the sword tip!
Natalie Walters, you put up with an awful lot of texts during this novel’s writing. You also saved Mumsie and Aggie from the proverbial garbage can and convinced me that Collin was, after all, salvageable as a hero (though not at all my type). Thank you for your grace, your love, but most of all your daily support. I love doing life with you.
Linsey Adair, my own personal cemetery secretary. Well, not literally my cemetery secretary, because I’m not dead yet and you live in a different state, but the cemetery secretary who truly brought this story to life with ideas, insights, expertise, and dedication. Thank you. Let’s do coffee. Soon.
I must add in some extra thanks to my gramma Lola, who taught me to wash baggies at a young age and would catch me throwing them away in the garbage long after I was married. I love the way you taught me to conserve what God has given us, and not to take for granted the life we have, be entitled and expect we deserve more, and how to hoard bread-bag ties like there’s no tomorrow.
Halee Matthews, you always, ALWAYS have my back. This time in the what-the-heck-do-I-title-this-book department. As usual, your insight and poetic nature provided the perfect one, and we all agreed it was meant to be.
There’s a long list of folks I always want to thank. Most of them are family, like my parents, my in-laws, my brother, my sisters . . . you all are the frosting and sprinkles on the cake of my life and I love you!
My Cap’n Hook, you’re a pirate of the worst sort. I’m still held captive after almost twenty years. Or maybe that’s the best sort of pirate . . . I need to think about this. LOL, I love you.
To CoCo and Peter Pan. You know every book is for you. Someday you’ll be old enough to read murder and mayhem and learn a whole new side to Mommy that you never knew existed. Sorry if I scare you a little. We can always just drink coffee and pretend I’m normal.