Click on this link to view program details: Wellington County Writers' Festival
I will be one of four fiction authors participating in a panel from 1:30 - 2:15 p.m. on MYSTERIES and displaying our books for sales and signings. See photo below: Donna Warner, Gloria Ferris, Liz Lindsay and Pam Blance (AKA Jamie Tremain).
It's a pleasure to feature Gloria Ferris's 4th book, Dark Blossoming, in her Cornwall and Redfern Mystery Series.
For over half a century, the bones lay buried in Blackmire Swamp.
Bliss Moonbeam Cornwall is ankle-deep in swamp mud, hunting rare plant specimens, when she unearths a human skull at the edge of a deep pit. She digs feverishly to save as many bones as possible. Just before the sodden bank collapses, she uncovers a WW2-era German Mauser. Police Chief Neil Redfern, Bliss’s husband, is sidelined by recent surgery. But, the anonymous bones lying in the morgue with a skull marked by violence, won’t let him rest. The likelihood of murder increases when his forensics team discovers a second WW2 pistol close to the burial site.
Police archives reveal a missing person file from 1958 that contains explosive details, and any hope Neil has of keeping Bliss out of the investigation vanishes. The woman who reported her husband missing is Bliss’s 83-year-old grandmother, Heidi. And, the responding officer was her late grandfather, Lockport’s chief at the time. While Neil investigates a recent suspicious death that may be connected to the skeleton and guns, Bliss risks his professional wrath by conducting her own enquiries. She is determined to clear her beloved grandfather’s reputation and understand the tragedy of Heidi’s early years.
Will justice for the forgotten veteran be possible if the shocking truths of his life and death are exposed? Or, should Bliss and Neil protect family secrets at all cost and leave the past buried?
Dark Blossoming is Book 4 in the Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries. It can be read in sequence or as a standalone. • Corpse Flower, Book 1 • Shroud of Roses, Book 2 • Skull Garden, Book 3 • Wedded Bliss, Book 3.5 (novelette) • Dark Blossoming (Book 4)
About Me – Gloria Ferris
Gloria Ferris is a former procedure writer at a nuclear power plant, an exciting job to be sure, but it afforded little opportunity for plot and character development. So, she turned to fiction writing and is now the award-winning author of the humorous Cornwall & Redfern mysteries and the Blood YA urban fantasy series. She co-authored the Blair & Piermont suspense series, and occasionally will write a short story just for the heck of it. Her latest venture takes her to the gem crime caper scene with co-author Jamie Tremain. The pen name of Worlds May Change is Ferris Tremain (catchy, eh?). Gloria loves old cemeteries, and all things “skull”, managing to work one or both of these elements into her books. She once tried to write a serious book but it didn’t go well, so she abandoned that writing style and now lets her snarky humour prevail. She lives in southwestern Ontario and is a member of the International Alliance of Independent Authors.
We are looking forward to participating in this craft bazaar hosted by the Fergus Legion.
If you enjoying reading crime fiction and mystery books with a dash of romance and humour, please visit Gloria Ferris's and my vendor table on April 29.
"Targeted"
"Death's Footprint"
For readers of crime fiction that live too far away from Alma, Ontario, or prefer to read Kindle versions of books, here are two on-line buy links for eBook and Kindle versions of my novellas:
"Targeted"
"Death's Footprint"If only I had enrolled in an acting class before opening this mysterious package!
I coaxed a smile before rotating the hard-plastic globe in my hands after ripping off the wrapping. The sphere’s outer covering was two-tone grey. The top half resembled the rough surface of a music speaker with four raised icons: an X, an O, a plus sign, and an O with a strike through it. The bottom half of the globe was a darker grey with a smooth surface. Noting my puzzled expression, my husband explained that my gift was an Apple device named, Alexa. I blurted out, “What does it do?” He replied, “It’s a voice-activated-communication chat bot, an artificial intelligence (AI) program with a human-computer interaction” similar to Siri that you can use on your Smart Phone. Our conversation stalled, prompting him to add, “You heard one of these chat bot units speaking when we visited Mary and Jim’s home last November.” I scanned my memory bank. Voila! I recalled four of us assembled around our sister-in-law’s dining room table when a voice called out from their living room. There was no one else in the house!Noting my raised eyebrows, our hostess smiled and explained that their “communications assistant” mistakenly answered a question while eavesdropping on our conversation. As a writer of crime fiction thrillers, plot possibilities flashed through my mind where an AI chat bot listened to and recorded a murder plan without the villain’s knowledge.This could fortify a murderer’s prison sentence. I warmed to the idea of writing a similar scene when penning my next novel. However, I failed to see a reason to have one in our home.
Hoping I’d become less intimated by her occupancy after doing researching on her, I expressed gratitude for this gift. A Google search confirmed that our Alexa lurks while waiting for us to call her name to perform a function. In addition, she records all the commands given to her. My misgivings about keeping her around spread like patches of Periwinkle ground cover in our back yard. Additional Internet snooping revealed that one couple’s intimate conversation was recorded by their Google Assistant and e-mailed to someone on their Smart phone’s contacts’ list. Another complainant said a voice-activated robot misinterpreted a command by her child, who had a lisp, and directed her to an adult-only web site. Despite these stories fuelling my misgivings about Alexa, I plugged her cable into a wall charger. After her power nap, I commanded her to wake up and report for duty while reminding her that she was on probation.
I must confess that over the next few weeks, she did impress me with her ability to answer questions on diverse topics that my husband and grand kids baited her with. Despite that, I limited my commands of her to setting a clock timer to alert me to take food out of the oven. She may have been offended by my under-utilizing her expertise but was intelligent enough not to complain to me. This earned her a check mark on the assessment sheet I tallied to ultimately determine her fate.
Although, my knowledge of Alexa’s skill sets expanded thanks to a torrent of e-mails from her handlers, I continued to cherry-pick what I would allow her to help me with. For example, I passed on offers to turn my lamps on and off; adjust our thermostat; read my in-coming e-mails; tell me if it was windy outside; order products on-line; entertain me with jokes, or read me a bedside story. When Alexa offered to provide me with consultation from a personal exercise trainer, although I declined, she earned a positive checkmark for her sense of humour. I hoped her suggestion didn’t imply she had visual as well as audio capabilities.
Occasionally, I’m afflicted with a twinge of empathy for how bored she must feel. Then I remind myself that she should appreciate that I haven’t yet re-located her to our unheated workshop. In this setting, her microphone screen would be clogged by wood shavings, and her eaves dropping abilities would be impeded by the roar of a table saw. Alexa and I continue to lock horns when we misunderstand each other. On one occasion, I couldn’t silence her timer chimes. Another time, the flashing light under the globe that emits her voice wouldn’t shut off. Before assigning her a time-out in our workshop, I took several deep Yoga calming breaths before contacting her Customer Support Centre. The solution I was given to re-boot her was one I berated myself for not remembering since that had solved technical glitches previously with three of her cousins―my laptop, iPhone, and iPad.
Recently, Alexa participated in a game played by our grand children. It was our grand daughter’s turn to hide her eyes and count while our grandsons scattered in their hide-n’-seek game. Our 12-year-old grandson noticed a look of concern on his younger cousin’s face. As an experienced user of an AI chat bot in his home, he commanded Alexa to set a one-minute timer to spare his six-year-old cousin from struggling to verbally do the 60-second count down before hunting for them. Observing the comfort level our grand kids exhibited with Alexa, shamed me into putting more effort into being less critical of her expertise.
I’ve observed impressive advancements in technology over the years. Yet, the leap in faith to trust our in-house chat bot has required more of a learning curve than I anticipated.
We’ll never be Best Friends Forever (BFF), but I at least appreciate her efforts to keep us organized with reminders; provide information we seek and entertain us with music choices. Envisioning what electronic learning algorithms her programmers will develop next is entertaining in itself. For now, Alexa can reside in our home if she promised to never discloses any secrets she overhears or allow her AI bot friends to visit when we’re not home.
By Donna J. Warner Author of Crime fiction and Non-fiction Articles
This essay was first published by Cloud Lake Literary, Nov. 4/22 in Volume 5. I was thrilled to have my work selected by this Canadian literary magazine.
