Thinkingdog Publishing

There is a very specific moment that happens to me at gatherings. You know the kind. Someone is balancing a plate of something beige and vaguely festive, someone else is explaining their sourdough starter like it’s a personality trait, and then… it happens. “What do you write again?” “Cozy mysteries,” I say. Pause. Head tilt. “Wait… what’s a cozy mystery?” And this, my friends, is where the magic begins. I lean in a little, because this deserves drama. “Well,” I say, lowering my voice just enough to make it intriguing, “there’s a murder.” Eyebrows go up. Fork pauses mid-air. “But it’s polite,” I add. “No gore. No nightmares. Just… vibes.” Cue the laugh. The polite little “ha ha… huh, that’s cute.” The kind that says they’re not entirely convinced I haven’t just invented a genre to justify my love of tea and fictional crimes. And this is where I say, “Follow me for a minute, will you?” Because here’s the thing. You read true crime, don’t you? You listen to th...