Prose and Cons Giveback Ends an Incredible Year

I am thrilled to announce that through the Prose and Cons Giveback we raised $5,043 for the Landing Food Pantry in Akron, Ohio. 4,852 copies of the novel sold before 12.20.16, and as promised, I made a $1 donation to the Landing for every copy sold before that date. The additional $191 was made up from direct donations from the Learned Owl and Goodyear Heights Baptist Church. Thank you so much for purchasing the book and helping others.

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It seems every year is a year of change, and that was certainly the case for me this year. However, 2016 was also an incredible year for my writing. Andi Unstoppable won the Agatha Award for Best Children’s/YA Mystery. I was one of the featured author at the 20th annual Ohioana Book Festival. I released four novels  (Crime and Poetry; The Final Tap; Murder, Handcrafted, and Prose and Cons). Crime and Poetry was name one of the Best Cozy Mysteries of 2016 by Suspense Magazine. Crime and Poetry hit the Barnes and Nobel and Indiebound Bestsellers lists, and Prose and Cons hit the Barnes and Nobel Bestsellers list. Prose and Cons was my twentieth published book, a dream that would never have even occurred to me as a little girl who just wanted to see one book with her name on it in the library.

It’s been an incredible year because I have the support of incredible readers. I could never thank you enough.

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Happy New Year! Wishing you all the very best in 2017!

❤ Amanda

Crime and Poetry Tea Party

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On Saturday, April 16th, the Twinsburg Public Library hosted An Amanda Flower / Emily Dickinson Tea Party to celebrate the release of my seventeenth book, Crime and Poetry. The novel is the first book in my Magical Bookshop Mystery Series. The tea celebrated both my new book and the work of Emily Dickinson because my sleuth, Violet Waverly, uses Dickinson’s poems to solve the mystery. What a great way to celebrate National Poetry Month too!

The tea was a wonderful event, and we had a full house of fabulous readers. I was truly blessed and humbled by the response that the tea received. Thank you to everyone who came. You made the day so special!

Special thanks to the Twinsburg Public Library that hosted the tea, Super Librarian Cari Dubiel who planned so much, The Friends of the Twinsburg Public Library that provided the tea and desserts, the Learned Owl that sold my books, and my friends Molly, Bobby, and Samantha for helping with set up and clean up.

Please enjoy these photos from the event!

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More about Crime and Poetry:

9780451477446-1From Amanda Flower—who writes the USA Today bestselling Amish Quilt Shop Mysteries as Isabella Alan—comes the first in the new Magical Bookshop Mystery series.

Rushing home to sit by her ailing grandmother’s bedside, Violet Waverly is shocked to find Grandma Daisy the picture of perfect health. Violet doesn’t need to read between the lines: her grandma wants Violet back home and working in her magical store, Charming Books. It’s where the perfect book tends to fly off the shelf and pick you…

Violet has every intention to hightail it back to Chicago, but then a dead man is discovered clutching a volume of Emily Dickinson’s poems from Grandma Daisy’s shop. The victim is Benedict Raisin, who recently put Grandma Daisy in his will, making her a prime suspect. Now, with the help of a tuxedo cat named Emerson, Violet will have to find a killer to keep Grandma from getting booked for good…

Watch the Crime and Poetry Book Trailer now!

Free Signed Bookmarks

Would you like a signed bookmark from Agatha Award nominated & USA Today bestselling author Amanda Flower (i.e. ME) like the one pictured below? It’s easy! Just click on the photograph of the form and fill it out. Then, I will mail you a signed bookmark. Have a wonderful holiday season!

❤ Amanda

 

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Sign up here!!

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Meet Amanda Flower/Isabella Alan this Fall!

pslFall means two things to me: Pumpkin Spice Lattes and Book Fair Season. Yes, I am one of the hordes who goes absolutely gaga over Starbucks’ PSL. When September strikes, I begin asking my local barista if the PSL has arrived. It officially launched on September 8th, but I got one a few days earlier at my local Starbucks. Nothing can compare to the Starbucks version of the pumpkin spice latte. I tried one by an unnamed competitor over the weekend and it wasn’t even close.

So with my PSL in hand, I face the fall and book fair season. In Ohio and in neighboring states many book fairs are held in the beautiful Midwestern autumn, and I will be appearing at several. I would love to meet you at one of the below events! If you can’t make one of these, check your local paper and see what book events are happening in your own area.

Amanda Flower’s Fall Book Signing Schedule

NEO Sisters in Crime One Day Conference
Twinsburg Public Library
Twinsburg, OH
September 12 10am-4:30pm

Kerrytown Book Festival
Ann Arbor, MI
September 13 11am-5pm

Medina Library Event
Medina, OH
September 16 12pm

Hiram Book Fair
Hiram College
Hiram, OH
September 19 10am-12pm

Northwest Branch Library
Akron, OH
October 21 1pm

Buckeye Book Fair
Wooster, OH
November 7 9:30am-4pm

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Murder, Served Simply by Isabella Alan Pre-Order Giveaway!

I’m celebrating the upcoming release of the 3rd Amish Quilt Shop Mystery, MURDER, SERVED SIMPLY, on December 2, 2014 by giving away an adorable 2″x3″ magnet of the novel’s cover to everyone who pre-orders the MURDER, SERVED SIMPLY.

To get your adorable magnet pre-order the book in either print or electronic and complete the form at this link: ORDER FORM

Possible Places to pre-order:
Amazon | B&N |Books-A-Million | CBD | Anywhere Books are sold!

Giveaway is limited to U.S. and Canadian residents. Giveaway ends on December 1, 2014. Magnets will be mailed the first week of December.

Preview of the magnet!

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Sneak Peak of PLAINLY MURDER! (Chapter One)

Last week my prequel e-novella to the Amish Quilt Shop Series, which I write as Isabella Alan released! It’s know available on all ebook formats for $2.99!

plainly_murderSPECIALOrder now at

Kindle, Nook, Kobo, iBooks

Here’s the first chapter, to introduce you to my Amish town of Rolling Brook. Enjoy!

 

Plainly Murder

An Amish Quilt Shop Mystery Novella

by Isabella Alan

Chapter One

A person might think it’s easy to spot a black and white French bulldog wearing a red and purple striped sweater and matching boots in the snow. That person would be wrong.

I brushed my long blond curls out of my face as I peered under an old feed trough on my aunt Eleanor Lapp’s Amish farm. I found pebbles, stray pieces of hay, and an abandoned spider web—at least I told myself it was abandoned. No French bulldog. I dusted snow and dirt off my corduroy-clad knees as I stood. My Frenchie, Oliver, was scared into hiding by my aunt’s chickens. It hadn’t even occurred to me that Aunt Eleanor allowed the chickens to roam the yard. If I had known, I would never have taken Oliver outside for a potty break without first corralling the wayward poultry. Oliver took one look at them and bolted. He suffered from an unexplained phobia of birds.

The chickens were the last livestock on the farm. The cows, sheep, and horses my aunt raised during my childhood had been sold to pay her medical bills.

“Oliver!” I called as I circumnavigated the outhouse, which was no longer in use since my aunt’s Amish district adopted indoor plumbing, praise be. I shivered at the idea of scurrying to the outhouse in the middle of a frigid February night.

“Oliver! The chickens are back in their coop. They won’t hurt you. I promise.” I spotted a dot of red under the low boughs of an evergreen tree ten yards from the house. “I can see you.”

He wriggled forward, and the dot of red, his boots, disappeared underneath the tree. Well, that backfired, I thought. And when had he learned English?

Suddenly frantic barking peppered with high-pitched tweets disturbed the quiet winter morning. Three blackbirds zoomed from the tree like missiles. I ducked at the last second before they beaned me in the head. Oliver was a breath behind. His eyes were the size of oranges and he ran at me full tilt, catapulting his solid body into the air. “Oomph!” The wind whooshed from my lungs when I caught him. I stumbled back on the slick snow-covered grass but managed to maintain my footing.

I rubbed Oliver’s back as if he were a human toddler. “It’s okay. It’s okay. They’re gone.” He burrowed his head into my chest. Maybe my fiancé, Ryan, had been right. Maybe I should have left Oliver in Texas with him.

When Oliver stopped shaking, I bent to set him on the ground. “Can you walk into the house?”

He kicked at me with his doggie boots. I took that as a “no.”

I turned and started to carry him to the small pale yellow ranch house with black shutters that my uncle Jacob had built nearly forty years ago on a corner of his family’s land. He had built the house right after my aunt and uncle married. The couple had been unable to have children, and much of the Lapp acreage had been sold to other Amish farmers. After my uncle died, my aunt kept a tiny corner of the original property for herself along with the little yellow house and a flock of aggressive white chickens.

When I drove to Holmes Country from the airport the day before, I was pleased to see that the house appeared just as it had when my parents and I moved to Texas when I was ten.

The clip-clop of horses and the rattle of buggies took my attention away from Oliver and the chickens. Two Amish buggies turned from the road onto my aunt’s property. Oliver burrowed his black and white head into my shoulder again when he eyed the large horses pulling the buggies closer to us. “We aren’t in Dallas anymore,” I whispered to the dog.

His batlike ears flicked toward my voice.

The horses came to a stop side by side. A middle-aged Amish woman sat in the driver’s seat of the first buggy. She set the reins across the buggy’s dashboard and had an economy about her movements as she climbed down from the buggy, pulling a horse blanket out with her. She waved to me before securing the blanket on her horse’s back.

A younger woman, in her twenties I guessed, carefully lowered herself from the second buggy, which was driven by Anna, my aunt’s oldest and dearest friend. Anna was close to my aunt’s age, somewhere in her late sixties, but her cheeks had the rosy glow of activity and health, while my aunt’s were drawn and pale. Anna handed the younger woman two quilting baskets. “Angie, I’m glad to see that you made it. How was your flight?”

“It was fine.” I patted Oliver’s back. “My dog probably would disagree.”

The petite younger woman smiled. “What’s his name?”

I smiled. “Oliver.”

“He’s darling. I’m Rachel Miller. I’m so happy to finally meet you, Angie. Eleanor talks about you constantly. She’s very proud of you.”

I smiled. “I’m proud of her, too. She’s the toughest woman I know.”

Anna adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses before taking one of the baskets from Rachel. “She is that.”

The first woman examined my dog. “Is he wearing clothes?”

I blushed. “A sweater and boots. He’s a Texas dog. He’s not used to an Ohio winter. I didn’t want him to catch a chill.”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “He’s just a dog.”

I frowned. Oliver was much more than just a dog.

Rachel took a tentative step forward and let Oliver sniff her hand. “He’s sweet.”

The bird trauma forgotten, the Frenchie gave her his best doggie grin and licked her hand.

“Don’t mind Martha,” Rachel said under her breath. “She’s the most practical woman I know, and that’s saying something considering most of the women I know are Amish.”

Martha lifted her quilting basket from her buggy. “I can hear you, Rachel.”

Rachel covered her mouth to hide her smile.

“Eleanor is ready for us?” Anna asked.

I set Oliver on the ground. “She’s been talking about it all morning. She misses your quilting circle meetings.”

“And we miss having her at them.” Anna hooked her basket over her arm. “How is she feeling today?”

My face fell slightly. “Today is a good day.” My aunt had been battling cancer for the past three years, and recently the disease resurfaced with a vengeance. As soon as I heard the cancer returned, I was on the next plane to Ohio. I wanted to spend as much quality time with my favorite aunt as possible. Not that I thought the worst—she beat it before, she would beat it again. Neither Ryan nor my mother, Aunt Eleanor’s much younger sister, were pleased that I’d left Dallas in the midst of wedding planning.

Martha started toward the house. “We will catch a chill if we stand out here much longer.”

“I almost forgot!” Rachel hurried back to Anna’s buggy. “I brought some treats from the bakery to share.” She set her quilting basket on the floor of the buggy and removed a large flat basket covered with a navy blue linen cloth.

I took the basket from her hands. “I’ll carry that.”

Oliver bumped into the back of my calves. Apparently, he didn’t want to be on his own in this strange snowy world.

“Thank you.” She placed a hand to her stomach. “I’m expecting my third child in May, and I’m not as steady on my feet in the snow and ice as I used to be. Aaron—that’s my husband—is so overprotective. He wouldn’t let me drive the buggy here and insisted that I ride with Anna. I hate to put Anna out like that.”

Third child? Rachel looked no more than twenty-five. I was thirty-three and not yet married. In the Amish world, I would be a spinster.

Anna pushed her bonnet back, revealing her white prayer cap and steel gray bun underneath it. “Put me out? It was no trouble at all.”

Martha was halfway to the house. “I prefer not to stand outside in the cold. Eleanor is waiting for us.”

“We’re coming,” Anna called. She lowered her voice, so that only Rachel and I could hear. “She’s so bossy.”

Inside the house, I took the ladies’ black cloaks and bonnets and hung them on the pegs by the front door while my aunt welcomed her friends with warm hugs. She wore a black kerchief under her white prayer cap to cover her bald head. I knew that she wore that kerchief more for warmth than from embarrassment. My aunt was a handsome woman, but she had never been the least bit concerned about her appearance.

Anna held Aunt Eleanor at arm’s length. “Your cheeks are rosy today, my friend. This is a blessing.”

“It is,” my aunt said, sounding slightly winded. “It’s always a blessing to see you all. It’s been too long. I hope to go into town this week and see the shop. How is it doing, Martha?”

Aunt Eleanor owned Running Stitch, an Amish quilt shop in the downtown area of Rolling Brook—well, as downtown as a tiny Amish town can be. When she became too ill to manage the store, Martha stepped into the role and had been caring for most of the shop’s day-to-day operations for the last two years.

Martha sat in an oak rocking chair and set her quilting basket beside it. “It is gut, but sales are slow. They will pick up again in the spring.”

My aunt nodded. “Ya, I remember how the dark winter months drug on in the shop. Danki for taking such gut care of it for me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Martha sat a little straighter in the rocking chair and beamed under my aunt’s praise.

Aunt Eleanor smiled. “I don’t know what I would do without any one of you. You are my dear friends.” She gripped my hand. “And now my sweet Angie is here.”

Her fingers were cold. “Aenti,” I said, using the Amish word for aunt, which I had always called her. “You’re cold. You should sit closest to the stove.”

“Nee, I am fine.” She waved to the sidebar against the wall holding a pot of tea, carafe of coffee, and tray of sugar cookies. “Please, everyone, help yourself to some coffee and cookies.” My aunt removed the navy cloth from the bakery basket I’d set beside the cookie tray, revealing an assortment of muffins and Amish donuts, which smelled even better than they looked. “Where did those come from?”

Rachel blushed.

Aunt Eleanor gave a mock frown. “Rachel Miller, do you think I don’t know how to provide for my guests?”

The younger Amish woman squeezed her hands together. “Oh, no, Eleanor. I know you are a wonderful baker, too. I didn’t mean to insult you. Aaron made too many today and asked me to bring them.”

“So they are cast-off pastries,” Martha said with a mischievous glint to her eye.

Rachel’s mouth fell open. “Nee. I—I . . .”

Anna selected an Amish donut from the basket. “Goodness, Rachel, ignore them. They’re only teasing you.” She shook the donut in mock reprimand at the other two women. “Don’t pester the poor girl. You know she’s sensitive.”

As I helped Oliver out of his boots, I smiled, happy that my aunt felt well enough to joke with her friends. The Frenchie curled up in front of my aunt’s black potbelly stove, still cozy in his striped sweater.

Aunt Eleanor grinned and some of the fatigue fell from her face. “I’m sorry, Rachel. We should not worry you so. Danki for the doughnuts and muffins. I know we will all enjoy them with our tea and kaffi.” She sat on a matching rocking chair to Martha’s.

I heartily agreed, even though I couldn’t eat one. I was on a strict fifteen hundred calorie diet for the wedding and already spent my day’s allotment, plus half of tomorrow’s, on the breakfast of eggs and pancakes my aunt insisted on feeding me. I winced as I foresaw extra hours in the gym with my sadistic Norwegian trainer, Ludvik, back home. Perhaps he’d even make me do another juice cleanse. Ludvik swore by them. I shuddered.

“What is wrong, Angie?” Anna asked. “Are you cold?”

“A bit.” It was easier than explaining the juice cleanse to a room of Amish women.

The ladies chatted as they prepared their mugs of tea and coffee to their liking and set their quilting projects out. I removed the appliqué wall quilt I was making on my lap as well. Aunt Eleanor remained in her rocking chair, and I handed her a cup of tea and a doughnut.

Rachel eased into a corner of the couch, and Anna perched on an armchair. Bright white winter light reflected off the snow outside and through the sparklingly clean windows. Despite her illness, my aunt kept a spotless home. I winced to think what she would say about the dirty dishes I left in the sink back in Dallas.

My aunt reached into a bushel basket sitting beside her chair and pulled out a folded quilt. “I had a special reason for asking you all to come here today.” She smiled at me. “Other than to see my beautiful niece.” She smoothed the quilt in her lap. It was a Sunshine and Shadows patterned piece made with hundreds of two-by-two-inch solid-colored squares that rippled outward from one square in the middle of the quilt. The two inch border was in navy, and wave stitching held the cloth and batting together. Even from across the room, I could tell the handiwork was exquisite.

Anna’s teacup stopped halfway to her mouth. “Is that Evelyn’s quilt?”

“It is,” my aunt replied.

“How did you get it?” Rachel asked.

Aunt Eleanor ran her right index finger over the tiny stitches. “Her cousin, who is handling Evelyn’s affairs, sent it to me. She said there were instructions with it to mail the quilt to me. She sent it as soon as she found it.”

Anna set her teacup on the end table next to her. “Why would she give it to you? You and Evelyn were gut friends, but shouldn’t it go to her family, like her cousin? That was her most prized quilt.”

“She didn’t give it to me to keep,” my aunt said.

I held up a hand. “Wait, back up. Who’s Evelyn?”

Martha removed fat squares from her basket and began cutting them into triangles. “Evelyn Schmidt. She was the fifth member of our quilting circle.” Her scissors sliced through another piece of maroon fabric. “And she’s dead.”

****

Don’t forget to enter my Amish Quilt Giveaway!

It’s SUPER SEPTEMBER! Amanda Flower (also writing as Isabella Alan) has three novels releasing in September 2013. To celebrate, she is giving away an authentic Amish Quilt hand-stitched by Amish in Holmes County, Ohio.

Enter to Win an Authentic Amish Quilt from author Amanda Flower! Click here to Enter!

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Follow Amanda’s alter ego Isabella on Facebook

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New Book Cover & New Author Website!

Today, I’m excited to share a little bit about two new series.

First is the cover of A Plain Death. This is the first in the Appleseed Creek Mystery Series coming from B&H Publishing in July 2012. Currently, I am working on revision, and the book is on track to have galleys by the end of 2011.

In A Plain Death, an unlikely friendship between a high-tech woman and a runaway Amish girl leads to murder. Her first day in Appleseed Creek, Ohio, Chloe Humphrey, befriends Becky, an ex-Amish teenager looking for a new home. While driving Chloe’s car, Becky collides with a buggy, killing an Amish bishop in the process. The case moves from accident to murder when police reveal a cut brake line. Now, Chloe and Becky’s handsome brother, Timothy, must discover who the real intended victim is before the murderer makes a second attempt.

The second reveal is the website for my pen name, Isabella Alan. The first book I will be writing under that pen name is Murder, Plain and Simple to be published by NAL in late 2013. Check it out at www.isabellaalan.com. My main website www.amandaflower.com will be getting a brand new look by the end of the year too. Stay tuned.