⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Dangerous Waters by Mike Martin @Mike54Martin #DangerousWaters #Mystery

 

Dangerous Waters is another great adventure with Sgt. Windflower and the gang in picturesque Grand Bank…

By Mike Martin

Old habits die hard…

Sgt. Windflower tries his best to ease away from life as a Mountie, but the lure of an investigation is too hard to resist.

After a missing man turns up dead, Sgt. Windflower is pulled in to investigate. Meanwhile, the arrival of a group of unique foreign visitors during a snowstorm in Grand Bank offers up another mystery. Even with so much going on, Windflower can’t resist the enticement of a good meal and a trip to the island of Saint Pierre off the coast of Newfoundland.

But when things get rough, Windflower can always rely on Eddie Tizzard and the gang to have his back.

As always, Windflower’s wife Sheila and their daughters are beacons of love and support as he navigates dangerous waters.

Grand Bank beckons you to another great story in the Sgt. Windflower Mystery Series.

Book Information

Release Date: April 30, 2022

Publisher:  Ottawa Press and Publishing

Soft Cover: ISBN: 978-1988437828; 288 pages; $16.95; eBook $4.99: FREE Kindle Unlimited

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3RczNNA 

Eddie Tizzard looked down at the three files on his desk. Three men, all in their early sixties, reported missing from their homes and families in Grand Bank. One, Cedric Skinner, was found floating at the far end of Quidi Vidi Lake in St. John’s. The other two, Paddy Slaney and Leo Broderick, were still missing. 

He had just finished talking to Leo Broderick’s wife. She was doubly distraught, first by the unexplained absence of her husband, then by the death of Cedric Skinner and the disappearance of Paddy Slaney. “What’s going on?” she’d asked Tizzard. He had few answers for her or the other women in this small community on the southeast coast of Newfoundland. 

“We’ll do everything we can,” he told Leo Broderick’s wife. But truthfully, right now, there wasn’t much anything he or anybody else could do to bring her husband back. He only hoped that it wasn’t too late.

Tizzard leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. There was snow on the ground and more falling by the hour. Nothing unusual there. February in Newfoundland at the easternmost tip of Canada was cold, wet, and snowy. What was unusual was the fact that this wasn’t his chair, and it wasn’t his office. He looked down and saw something else that was new: corporal’s stripes on his uniform. Two chevrons, to be exact, and an Acting Corporal title to go along with them.

He was acting head of the Grand Bank detachment of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the Mounties. He had been a corporal before but was demoted when he had an altercation with a superior officer. But now they needed him, so they gave him back his stripes, at least on a temporary basis until they figured things out. What caused all of this to unfold was the sudden resignation of his old boss, Sergeant Winston Windflower. That’s whose chair Tizzard was sitting in as he looked out at the snowy morning in Grand Bank.

Winston Windflower wasn’t looking out the window, nor was he thinking about Tizzard or the Mounties this morning. He and his co-worker, Levi Parsons, were nearly done refinishing the hardwood floors at the beautiful old B&B that Windflower and his wife Sheila Hillier owned and co-managed. Levi was a shy and quiet young man who had somehow built a friendship with the much older Windflower, and under his tutelage, had been working at the B&B for a couple of years now. He was even taking hotel and hospitality classes to learn the management skills he needed to help run the B&B. 

But today the skills he needed were more of the manual labour type. They had already sanded and buffed the floors over the weekend, and now they were applying a new coat of stain. Tomorrow, they would start on the finish, and three coats of that later they would have perfect-looking hardwood floors to welcome their first dinner guests.

The B&B had been closed for over a year since the pandemic, and they were using this time, and Windflower had lots of it, to fix up the place before what they hoped would be a stellar tourist season. It had better be, thought Windflower. They would soon be without any steady income when his last few cheques from the RCMP dried up. Sheila had lots of business ideas cooking, but none were ready to provide them with the finances they would like to support their lifestyle and two small children. 

Levi went off to clean their brushes while Windflower poured himself a coffee in the kitchen and walked upstairs. He went to the small veranda on the second floor and opened the doors. The cool, fresh air flooded in, aided by the ever-present wind. He stared out, past the lighthouse and what was left of downtown Grand Bank, into the vastness of the ocean. It always calmed him to have this view, and today was no exception. He paused for a few moments, gave thanks for the view and the beautiful day, and went downstairs.

He went out the back door of the B&B so as not to disturb the good work they had done so far on the hardwood floors. He was going to head home when he saw a familiar face waving at him from across the street. Herb Stoodley was the co-owner of the Mug-Up café, the best and only diner in Grand Bank. Herb and his wife Moira were also self-adopted grandparents to Windflower’s two children. Stella was a bright and curious five-year-old and Amelia Louise was a two-and-half-year-old whirlwind. 

Herb and Windflower had hit it off from near the beginning when Windflower was first assigned to Grand Bank. They shared a love of the law, with Herb being a former Crown attorney, and under his tutelage Windflower was learning to share his love of classical music as well. The latest offering that Herb had provided was a version of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 recorded by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Windflower liked listening to classical music when he went on his weekly runs on Sunday morning with Amelia Louise on his back. This piece was perfect, thought Windflower as he thought about the swirling of the instruments and the haunting piano that pulled you back in.

Mike Martin was born in St. John’s, NL on the east coast of Canada and now lives and works in Ottawa, Ontario. He is a long-time freelance writer and his articles and essays have appeared in newspapers, magazines and online across Canada as well as in the United States and New Zealand.

He is the author of the award-winning Sgt. Windflower Mystery series set in beautiful Grand Bank. There are now 12 books in this light mystery series with the publication of Dangerous Waters. A Tangled Web was shortlisted in 2017 for the best light mystery of the year, and Darkest Before the Dawn won the 2019 Bony Blithe Light Mystery Award. Mike has also published Christmas in Newfoundland: Memories and Mysteries, a Sgt. Windflower Book of Christmas past and present.

Some Sgt. Windflower Mysteries are now available as audiobooks and the latest A Long Ways from Home was released as an audiobook in 2022. All audiobooks are available from Audible in Canada and around the world.

Mike is Past Chair of the Board of Crime Writers of Canada, a national organization promoting Canadian crime and mystery writers and a member of the Newfoundland Writers’ Guild and Ottawa Independent Writers and Capital Crime Writers.

His latest book is the mystery, Dangerous Waters.

You can visit his website at https://SgtWindflowerMysteries.com/  or connect with him on Twitter and Facebook.

Sponsored By:

⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Rose Hawthorne: The Irish Wanders by Shannon O'Gorman #RoseHawthorne #Mystery

 

A celebrity author travels to Ireland to solve a mystery…

By Shannon O'Gorman

Rose Hawthorne: The Irish Wanders follows Rose, a celebrity author in her early seventies, who dislikes the limelight but does like Hermes scarfs, round violet sunglasses, and old colonial hotels. One day, she receives a letter asking her to visit Newgrange, Ireland and discover something that has been hidden there for a thousand years.

She asks her granddaughter Samantha to accompany her, but she hadn’t expected her to continually post photos of their progress on her Instagram account. An encounter with an old love and an unexpected discovery leads Rose deeper into the past, where she finds she must make a hard decision about her future.

Book Information

Release Date: March 16, 2022

Publisher:  Independent

Soft Cover: ISBN: 978-1736801079; 200 pages; $10.99; Free on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon: https://amzn.to/39a7pub

Rose took a deep breath, smiled, bent her head, and stepped carefully into the dark, low, narrow entrance and into the stone tomb of Newgrange. She passed under the ‘roof box,’ a unique open window set in heavy stone above the doorway. Like many ancient passages, it wasn’t built for a tall woman like her. At nearly 6 feet tall, with shoulder-length, black curly hair streaked with grey, she looked younger than her seventy-odd years.

The heavy stone slabs on both sides leaned slightly inward, making an awkward narrow corridor that sloped downwards. There was very little light, and she bumped her head several times, but she could still make out the ancient Neolithic geometric designs on some walls as she passed by with her small flashlight.

“Grandma, Grandma, slow down!” an annoyed voice said behind her. “I can’t keep up!”

“Hurry up, then,” Rose shouted back while she shone her flashlight beam upwards and gazed at the 20-foot ceiling that narrowed into great slabs. She could feel wispy fingers of wind on the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She paused and touched a wall as she waited for her granddaughter, Samantha, to catch up. While she stood there, she ran a palm over the cool stone, patted it gently and murmured, “You have kept a lot of secrets, my old darling. It’s all right to tell me some of them now.”

“Thanks for finally stopping and thinking about me!” Sam said sarcastically as she caught up to Rose, leaning against a wall. “My iPhone is at only 10 percent now! How much further is it?”

“Not too far, I think,” said Rose. “Stay close behind me if your battery is dying. You know, I’ve had my little flashlight for over 20 years, and it’s never let me down as long as I remember to check the batteries. It’s shown me the way inside the pyramids and some old mausoleums that are much darker than here. It could tell a lot of stories, just like all of us old things!” Rose chuckled.

“Whatever,” Sam mumbled and scowled in the darkness as she stomped behind her grandmother. She hated it when Rose pointed things out to her.

Sam was slimly built and was a strong, opinionated 17-year-old. She was dressed in torn jeans, a rain jacket and a pair of Doc Martens. Her long brown hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She had an extroverted personality but was also very sensitive. Sometimes she felt things too deeply.

Rose and Sam continued to walk until they could go no further, about 60 feet from the entrance. Here was the heart of the tomb and what Rose was looking for.

Geometric swirls decorated the back wall, just above what likely had been an ancient altar, long before the Druids and the Celts came to Ireland.

The three iconic swirls were like small circular labyrinths designed to represent what only the artist knew. Some said it was a map of the area, the underworld, or a meditation symbol. However, of course, nobody really knew. How could they? They were all drawn so long ago.

The tomb was illuminated once a year by the December sun of the Winter Solstice, when one could step onto a sunbeam and walk in the sunshine. For those short minutes, the brilliant light crept in to highlight the perfection of the sun. It would come in through the 5000-year-old roof box and pierce the darkness to the end of the tomb where Rose now stood. It would eventually creep to the three geometric swirls that she had come to examine. There it hung and lurked there before receding out the entrance; its short dance of celebration done until the next year.

Today was not the day of the winter solstice. There would be no brilliant sunshine; it was just another dull, cloudy, rainy June day in Ireland. Much like many others.

“We must be quick now. The guide said that we could only have 10 minutes in here alone,” Rose said. “Notice anything interesting about these spirals?”

Sam shone her dying iPhone flashlight on them and squinted her eyes.

“They remind me of those swirly mosquito coils. You light the end, and then it just burns away to nothing.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure anyone has ever made that connection before,” Rose said with a begrudging smile and continued. “In fact, these are examples of the ‘triskelion,’ the triple spiral.  They have been interpreted to represent many things. Some say they symbolize the past, present, future, or even life, death and rebirth. Perhaps they are a celebration of the Holy Trinity.

This symbol was adopted by the Celts as a symbol of three energies. These swirls on the walls were carved here over 5,000 years ago, long before the Celts may have come across them. Think of that, Sam!”

Sam sighed. “Uh-huh. You know that those spirals could just be some form of graffiti from a long time ago. Maybe this is some ancient pop art. You are always doodling in your notebook. Maybe some guy was doing the same thing— just on old walls instead.”

 

Shannon O’Gorman is originally from Winnipeg, Canada and has been living in San Jose, California for the past 10 years enjoying the sunshine. She completed a BA in English at the University of Manitoba, with a specialization in Creative Writing. After university, the travel bug bit her hard and she spent the next 10 years traveling the world and supporting herself with odd jobs ( lots of fruit picking, waitressing, temp. work and ESL teaching). She spent many years in London, a few years in Israel on a moshav, and several years in Hong Kong. And then she found herself in Japan, where she married, had a daughter and ran an English school with her husband for 10 years. Throughout this time she kept diaries and wrote many short stories, some of which were published in small ex-pat magazines. Eventually, she returned to Canada and taught international students at U of Winnipeg, and newcomers to Canada at a technical college and was a teacher trainer for new ESL teachers. One day her husband said, “Guess what I got a job in California…” and not long after they packed up the car and drove south.  She taught ESL again in the USA, and one day decided to walk the Camino de Santiago a 500 mile walk across France to Spain and wrote a book about it, The Camino de Santiago: One Wanderful Walk, and found her love for writing again. She also completed a book of short stories about her travels, Some Wanderful Times and started a book series featuring the character of Rose Hawthorne. The first book of the series is Seven Wanders: The Ancient Wanders. Last year she retired from teaching, and is enjoying writing every day with her dog at her feet.

Her latest book is the mystery, Rose Hawthorne: The Irish Wanders.

You can visit Shannon at Facebook and Instagram.  

Sponsored By:

⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Seeking Tranquility: Chincoteague Sunsets Trilogy Book 1 by Amy Schisler #SeekingTranquility #Chincoteague #Inspirational #RomanticSuspense

 

Against the beautiful backdrop of the Virginia shoreline, caring islanders and scientist, Jared Stevenson, help Christy McLane find the faith and tranquility she seeks, but the serene island is not without its dangers…

By Amy Schisler

Amy Schisler “creates a tapestry of emotional reactions, strength, and faith from her loved ones that brought me to tears at times.” 

--Writer’s Digest on Island of Promise

Christy McLane and her child prodigy sister, Molly, are alone in the world. Alone, until they arrive on the island of Chincoteague, Virginia. Like the famous ponies that roam the area, Christy and Molly flee to the island to take refuge after a tragedy leaves them marooned and unanchored. To stay afloat, Christy will need to make unforeseen sacrifices as she navigates the waters of life. 

Against the beautiful backdrop of the Virginia shoreline, caring islanders and shy, aerospace scientist, Jared Stevenson, help Christy find the faith and tranquility she seeks. However, just when everything seems perfect, Jared’s hidden past disrupts their peaceful existence, plunging the entire island into a sea of lies and danger that will change their lives forever. 

Book Information

Release Date: June 16, 2022

Publisher:  Chesapeake Sunrise Publishing

Soft Cover: ISBN: 979-8985223217; 345 pages; $15.95; eBook $7.99

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3OjMioj

Christy handed the police officer a bag containing a Pony Pork doughnut, a glaze-covered creation baked with brown sugar and bacon. Personally, Christy thought the mere idea of that combination was revolting, but it was a popular choice among their male clientele. 

“Have a great day, ladies.” Nick, a regular at the Sugar and Sand Donut Shop, tipped his hat as he walked out.

“He’s really cute,” Christy said in a matter-of-fact tone, watching the twenty-something in the crisp, blue Chincoteague Island Police uniform smile and wave at a couple passing by.

“And taken,” Diane said. She nudged Christy out of the way and placed a tray of fresh doughnuts on the counter.

“Story of my life.” Christy said with a smile and pulled a sheet of wax paper from the box to transfer doughnuts to the display case. 

“What are you, twenty-three? You’ve got plenty of time.” Diane smiled at the next customer and took their order. 

Christy bit back a sarcastic retort that she was twenty-four and had zero time in her busy days for men or anything else and finished unloading the tray of hot, fresh pastries. She could feel her hips expanding just from inhaling their mouth-watering aroma. Cinnamon, blueberry, chocolate, and lemon scents escaped from the case in a mixed wave as she closed the door and hefted the large tray back to the kitchen. When she returned, after making a stop in the staff bathroom, adjusting her ponytail, and washing her hands, a lull had fallen over the Sand and Sugar.

“What a story, huh?” Diane asked, wiping down a table.

“About the boater?” Christy asked. “Does stuff like that happen a lot around here?”

“Not usually with locals, more often with tourists who rent boats without any knowledge of how to use them. Just wait until summer. All kinds of crazy things happen once the island is crammed with people.”

“At least it keeps things interesting,” Christy remarked dryly. Though she liked the island well enough—it was pretty, and the people were nice—she missed the fast pace of life in and around D.C. 

“Any plans for the weekend?” Diane asked, moving to another table.

“Besides working?” Christy took a deep breath and blew it up, sending a stray hair flapping in front of her eyes. “All I ever do is work.”

“Things picking up at the store?” Diane walked behind the counter and tossed the rag into the basket under the sink and rinsed her hands.

“Yeah. It’s getting crazy. I must have made two dozen shirts on Saturday afternoon, and it’s only mid-May. That giant iron thingy scares me to death.”

Diane laughed. “Custom shirts are the most popular item sold here on the island other than toy ponies.”

“And doughnuts,” Christy said.

“And doughnuts.” Diane nodded and straightened the napkins, coffee stirrers, and smoothie straws on the counter as she talked. “Are you going to keep both jobs through the summer?” Diane glanced toward the door once the straightening was finished, and Christy wondered if she was avoiding her gaze. She knew that it was hard on Diane if Christy had to run out before everything was tidied and ready for the next business day, but Diane was willing to work with her—so far.

“Unfortunately, I have to. I don’t really have a choice.” Christy bit her lip and looked down at her hands. “Now that I’m Molly’s guardian, I’ve got to support us both. I’m going to make sure she has a good childhood and then goes to college. She’s so smart, and she has the ability to make more of her life than I have.”

Diane turned toward Christy and tilted her head, giving her a sympathetic smile. “You’re smart, too, and you’re still young. Don’t count yourself out yet. Your ship will come in someday.”

“Hmph. You mean the Titanic? It already sank.” Christy crossed her arms and leaned back on the counter. Behind her were an array of blenders used to make healthy, and not-so-healthy, smoothies. She wasn’t this pessimistic by nature, but today was one of those days. She felt the stress of their situation riding her like one of those mermaids with a whole ship perched on her back, taking the brunt of the wind and waves. And the ship that Christy carried on her back was in distress.

Diane gently laid her hand on the young woman’s arm. “Honey, you’ve got a big, happy life out there waiting for you. Anybody who’d do what you’ve done deserves only the best in life, and the good Lord is going to see that you’re rewarded for it.”

Christy sighed and shrugged. “I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Molly’s my half-sister, and I’m all she’s got with Mom and Fred gone.” She looked up and blinked the tears away. Even after two years, the reality of their deaths still stung. She supposed it always would.

“I know it doesn’t seem fair, but somewhere in this mess, God has a plan for you. Molly’s lucky to have you, and your mom’s watching over the both of you.”

The bell chimed, and both women looked up at the opening door.

“Good morning, Paul. How are things on the island today?” Diane asked, giving Christy a chance to turn away and wipe her eyes.

“Quiet, just the way I like it.” Paul took off his police cap and pointed to the coffee pot. “Could you make it a double, please? Stacey’s the best assistant the department’s ever had, but her coffee is like drinking brown water.”

“Why don’t you just tell her that she needs to add more grounds to the pot?” Diane asked, pouring a large cup of steaming coffee.

Paul shook his head. “I have. She says it’s the maker and keeps saying we ought to get one of those fancy pod things.”

“No!” Diane gasped, her hand over her heart. “Not one of those ‘fancy pod things’!”

Paul smiled. “Laugh all you want. There’s a reason half the town comes here for their coffee, with or without a doughnut. Everyone else has switched over to those machines, and the fine art of brewing a good cup of Joe is dying faster than those machines can spit into the cup.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me switching over to a Keurig or any other fancy kind of coffee maker. I’m a little too old-fashioned for that.”

Christy rolled her eyes, wishing they did have a Keurig so that she didn’t have to clean out the giant, metal coffee maker every day. She hated that chore.

As usual, Paul tried to pay Diane, and Diane shooed him away. When the door closed behind him, Christy said, “You give half your inventory away to the local police and firefighters. Oh, and the Coast Guard, too.”

Diane lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “They deserve it. It’s the least I can do. Their jobs aren’t easy, especially this time of year and running through the fall. They make a lot of sacrifices in the line of duty.” She turned to Christy. “And we take care of our own around here. You remember that.”

Christy nodded. It was a nice sentiment, but she had to rely on herself. Nobody else was going to pay the bills or buy the groceries or make sure Molly was taken care of. Christy was on her own for all that.

Amy Schisler is a novelist, poet, children’s book author, spiritual writer, blogger, reader, and avid traveler with years of professional experience in all manner of writing-related endeavors. Whether she’s writing novels filled with faith and inspiration, books that children will love, or her weekly blog devoted to family life and faith, she loves connecting and resonating with her readers. Amy’s first novel, A Place to Call Home, a romantic suspense, debuted in 2014, and her much-loved Chincoteague Island Trilogy has won numerous literary awards. Amy lives on the Eastern Shore of Maryland with her husband, Ken, their daughters, Katie and Morgan (and sometimes their daughter and son-in-law, Rebecca and Anthony), and their dogs, Rosie and Luna. When she’s not writing, Amy can usually be found on a boat in the Chesapeake Bay or hiking in the Rocky Mountains, most often with a good book in her hand.

Her latest book is Seeking Tranquility: Chincoteague Sunsets Trilogy Book 1.

You can visit her website at www.AmySchislerAuthor.com  and connect with her at Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads and Instagram. 

 

Sponsored By:

⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Summertime Sprinkler by Pam Kumpe @PamKumpe #SummertimeSprinkler #CozyMystery

Beth Bender will discover that the hardest climb out of domestic violence may include confronting the new neighbor—who sends the annual email to remind her of the past…

By Pam Kumpe

Beth Bender, a weary traveler, and radio talk show host, receives the annual email from Hudson Hinkle. It’s been twenty years, and this time, Beth plans to ignore the notification. However, the flashbacks flood her mind like a sprinkler that won’t turn off.

Despite the turmoil, Beth will discover light shining into her future through the eyes of a seven-year-old boy who moves into the neighborhood. And yet, a collision of the heart is inevitable. Will Beth open the email and confront Hudson? Is it time for Beth’s untold story to make a difference in the lives of other women and children who endure domestic violence?

Book Information

Release Date: April 7, 2022

Publisher:  Independent

Soft Cover: ISBN:979-8985590319; 195 pages; $14.99; Free with Kindle Unlimited

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3NZD7JX 

You can purchase your book also at the author’s website at www.pamkumpe.com. 

One split second made me a widow while at the same time altering the life of a blue-eyed boy who lived next door. I’ve tried not to think about that afternoon for the past twenty years. But another anniversary comes every August. It’s a day to get lost in regret and how I handled parts of the tragedy. It feels like the horror happened yesterday. Even now.

The little boy who once played in my yard, Hudson Hinkle, is thirty now, and his annual emails never bothered me until he moved back to New Boston a few years ago.

With so many states to live in and with the size of Texas, why Hudson returned to this town is beyond me. And yes, he lives some five blocks from my house. 

I often wish the month of August away because Hudson takes me to the dreadful day where we both suffocated from the onslaught of suffering. His email will squeeze my emotions as if I’m trying on shoes, three sizes too small, forcing me to relive the accident. 

I’ve tortured myself too much already, guilty of hitting the rerun button in my mind for about five years after the fateful day. And of course, I’m afraid I’ll eventually bump into Hudson at the store or church or the gas station. That’s why I never drive my car down Merrill Street even though it's a shortcut on the way to church. But if I don’t go that way, I won’t see Hudson’s house, or car, or him.

Even now, I wonder if I’ll ever completely heal or find victory over that horrible day in 2002. Some wounds leave permanent scars, those no one sees. Other injuries from the past can bleed without permission and can break open like stitches when someone blames you for things out of your control. The monster of despair crashes into my life every summer—every August.

After the accident, I became a weary wanderer, making sure my schedule remained packed with activity. Helping others and serving and keeping my mind occupied assured me of no time for anything else. Then I won’t spend hours looking back, wishing to change things, and worrying about Hudson.

In theory, that made sense—but in my real world—it’s not working. My mind races. My nightmares come. And I panic and deal with anxiety—yet I hide it for the most part from everyone else.

Pam Kumpe struggled with confidence due to physical and verbal abuse as a child, and from repeated abuse during high school and college. As she grew older, she hid from the world and didn’t talk to many people. She stayed to herself. 

Pam didn’t know the Lord could use brokenness and turn it into a way to help others. Her books are designed to add strength to your life. To help you find your way. She hopes to remind you that you’re fearfully and wonderfully created in Christ.

Thankfully, God opened her eyes and heart to fight for freedom and to stand for truth, and He gave Pam beauty for ashes, the joy of a new day with peace. She credits the Lord with giving her a voice to encourage others who are broken.

As an author and speaker, she loves to laugh. To read. To write. To talk. Not necessarily in that order. But always in each day.

Pam writes mysteries, devotionals, ministry books, and children’s books. Each book she’s written gives way to hope, and peace, and reminds you to persevere. Her stories will take you on a road trip of the heart as she challenges you to make today count.

Pam has written an inspirational column for newspapers spanning 25 years and she’s volunteered for 11 years, teaching/holding a church service for ladies in drug/alcohol rehab. Before that, Pam served 24 years as a children’s church teacher, where her love for others grew with each lesson she’s taught. And Pam is involved in street ministry with the homeless when she’s not playing with her schnauzer, Shelby, or her grandson, Kade. 

Her latest book is the cozy mystery, Summertime Sprinkler.

You can visit her website at www.PamKumpe.com or connect with her at Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

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