I am a writer. I have always been a writer, since the first time I held a chunk of sidewalk chalk in my chubby little hand. I have a friend—a musician—who loves music and making music so much that he is never without an instrument in his hand. He can’t live without making music all the time, day and night. Likewise, I can’t live without stories—telling them, writing them, entertaining with them.
Since 2009 I have published seventeen romantic suspense and mystery novels. Before that I was a librarian, an anthropologist, a research assistant, a US Senate committee aide, a speechwriter, a nonprofit director, a copy editor, and a parent. I’ve worked for professors, a magazine, the Senate, the Department of the Interior, Arlington County, and the Friends of the Torpedo Factory Art Center. I hold degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. I have two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divide my time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
My youth was an interesting one—not for the faint of heart. I once counted up the number of significant moves in my life…and stopped at twenty-five. I have lived or traveled in Europe, the Middle East, Africa, the US, Central America, and South America.
At the age of four, I flew on a plane from New York to Turkey. At the age of ten, I took the Queen Mary across the Atlantic to France, and spent three years living in Paris and traveling throughout Europe. From Paris we moved to Morocco. I spent the year after college in Egypt and the Middle East. As a graduate student at the University of Chicago I wangled trips to Paris and Istanbul. Jobs at the US Senate and Interior—and later children and marriage—gave me the opportunity to travel to the West, Mexico, St. Maarten, Jamaica, and Peru.
I’ve wandered the Pere Lachaise cemetery and laid a flower at Oscar Wilde’s grave. I’ve eaten Sacher Torte in the Hotel Sacher in Vienna. I’ve climbed the narrow steps of the stepped pyramid of Kukulkan at Chichén Itzá. I’ve seen the Peacock Throne in the Golestan Palace in Iran and ridden a stallion across the Egyptian desert under the “nose” of the Sphinx. I’ve swum with pink dolphins and gone fishing for piranha. I’ve watched as thousands of migrating cranes land on my roof on a hill in Istanbul. I’ve even begged for cigarettes from the sailors on a battleship in the Port of Tangier.
So it should come as no surprise that I like to start a story by choosing a setting. For awhile I let the hero or heroine of every book spend some time in Paris. When that became a bit of a stretch, I moved to other beloved spots. My books are set in Florida, Maine, DC, and one in Peru because I simply had to write about my trip to the deepest part of Amazonia.
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Title : In the Crosshairs: the Body on Leffis Key
Author : M. S. Spencer
Genre : Cozy mystery
Publisher : The Wild Rose Press
Book Blurb
Palmer Lind, recovering from the sudden death of her husband, embarks on a bird-watching trek to the Gulf Coast of Florida. One hot day on Leffis Key she comes upon—not the life bird she was hoping for—but a floating corpse. The handsome beach bum who appears on the scene at the same time seems to have even more secrets than the dead man.
His story begins to unravel as the pair search for answers to a growing pile of dead bodies. Spies, radical environmentalists, and wealthy businessmen circle around each other in a complex dance. Which one is lying? What do a seemingly random group of individuals have in common, other than being targeted by a crossbow?
Excerpt:
The Suspect
Thrasher beamed at him. “So you shot him—likely from your bass boat. Then you motored to one of the Sisters, extracted the arrow—excuse me, bolt—dragged the jon boat into the brush, and went your merry way.”
“Why didn’t I simply leave him to drift? That way there wouldn’t be any clues that I’d been in the vicinity.”
“According to the autopsy, the metal filings in Swallow’s heart indicated the bolt had been ripped from the body, which means you must have had contact with your victim after he was dead. I asked myself, why would you do that? Why not split before you were caught?”
“Because the bolt could be traced back to me.”
“Bingo.”
“Okay, how did I manage two boats?”
“Tied a line to his bow and towed him.” Thrasher sat back with a self-satisfied air.
Carson leaned forward. “When I got out of my boat to retrieve the bolt, why didn’t I leave the crossbow behind? Why lug it along?”
“Hmm. Maybe you wanted to be sure he was dead?” He peered at Carson, who sat rigid in his chair, his face a mask. “Have I left anything out?”
Carson exhaled. “Motive?”
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Author Biography:
Librarian, anthropologist, Congressional aide, speechwriter—M. S. Spencer has traveled the globe. She has published sixteen romantic suspense or murder mystery novels, with one more on the way. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
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Title: The Wishing Tree: Love, Lies, and Spies on Chincoteague Island
Author: M. S. Spencer
Genre: Romantic suspense/Cozy mystery
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Book Blurb:
Will the wind whip her token from the Wishing Tree and make her wish come true?
Addison Steele dreams of the day her husband—lost at sea—returns to her. Instead, she meets Nick Savage, whose every word may be a lie. She is soon embroiled in mystery, all related to the top secret science station at Wallops Island, Virginia.
After a Belarusian scientist at Wallops is murdered, the questions multiply. Was it because he caught the person stealing classified documents or because he wanted to defect? Is Nick the spy—or is it his brother? How can she trust the man who is slowly claiming her heart when his story keeps shifting?
Excerpt:
At the Wishing Tree
Addison circled the oak. Sure enough, the small strip of canvas still fluttered in the cold wind. She touched it, then drew her hand back and walked down to the water. Her eyes danced with the waves, searching, imagining what it would feel like to see Seth’s head pop up and watch his long arms battling the current to get to the shore. And to her.
“Surely Hurricane Thomas would have taken it.”
She jumped and whirled around. A man leaned against the wind-washed trunk. Tall and thin, his hair was a glossy espresso and his eyes the inky blue of a stormy ocean. He reminded her of the portrait of her great-great-grandfather which hung in her family’s Chincoteague house. “Taken what?”
“Whatever you left on the tree.” He peered at her. “Isn’t that what you wished for? To have your token carried off by the wind? Or is my guidebook wrong?”
She shook her head slowly. “No, it’s not wrong.”…
He waited, his lean body bent slightly forward, his eyes attentive. She found herself wanting to tell him everything—about the boat and Seth and the accident. She opened her mouth, but he spoke before she could get a word out.
“Forgive me. I’m being impertinent. You just looked so lost that I had to try to cheer you up, and suddenly that seemed stupid and then it got all awkward and here I am apologizing before I’ve even asked your name.”
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Title: Hidden Gem: the Secret of St. Augustine
Author: M. S. Spencer
Genre: Cozy mystery
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Book Blurb:
Barnaby and Philo’s story begins with very bad chili and a dead body. Barnaby is in St. Augustine, Florida, to teach a college seminar, and plans to use The Secret—a treasure hunt book—as a framework for his class. He enlists Philo Brice, owner of an antique map store, to aid him in seeking clues in the historic sites of the ancient city.Together they face murderers, thieves, thugs, and fanatics, heightening their already strong attraction to each other. Can they solve the puzzle and unearth the treasure before the villains do? Philo and Barnaby pursue several twisting paths and false leads before arriving at a startling conclusion.
Excerpt:
Mullet on the Beach
He blanched. “Agatha?”
The little girl, normally meek as a newborn fawn, had two bright red spots on her cheeks. Her murky eyes flashed. “You…You.” She gulped. “You are not my cousin!”
Diego, hardened roustabout that he was, blushed. “I’m sorry, Agatha. Mr. Zimmer”—he waggled a thumb in the direction of his boss—“he came up with the idea. It’s true that my mother’s side of the family is Minorcan. They’ve just never been back to the island.”
“Is your name really Diego?”
“Uh huh. It’s a common name in Minorca, and we assumed you’d have at least one relative called Diego. I didn’t figure on you asking so many personal questions.” He paused a second, then blurted, “Mullet on the beach!”
This was greeted by dead silence. Finally, a slight snuffle came from Agatha, which turned into a full-fledged crow of delight. “Aha! You do know!”
The girl lifted a hand, which Diego took. She gave him a curtsy, and he gave her a bow. They might have waltzed out of the room had Susie not called, “Er…Agatha? You probably shouldn’t leave. The police are on their way.”
“Oh? Oh!” The little girl prodded Diego. “We’d better stay here. You’re in awful trouble. You should confess.”
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Title: Mrs. Spinney’s Secret
Author: M. S. Spencer
Genre: Cozy mystery
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Book Blurb:
What do you do when Hollywood takes over your tiny Maine village to make a movie?
Cassidy Beauvoir, chair of the board of overseers of Amity Landing, is ready to throw the bums out; that is, until she meets Jasper MacEwan, the director of American Waterloo: the Rout of the Penobscot Expedition. It’s instant attraction until a series of deadly incidents threatens their budding romance. Are the attacks directed at the movie crew or the townspeople?
As the two search for answers, the trail leads them to long-held secrets of the worst naval defeat of the American Revolution—including betrayal, murder, and a lost hoard of English gold.
Excerpt:
Cassidy & Jasper
“I…I think we should get to know each other.” Cassidy looked at the floor.
“Me too.”
She jumped. Jasper had moved so fast she didn’t see him come around behind her. He gently pressed her back in her seat and kissed her forehead. She raised her arms and pulled him down over her shoulder. When it became clear that she couldn’t actually reach his lips in this position, she pushed the chair back.
“Ouch!”
“What did I do?”
“You dropped the chair leg on my toe.” He bent his knee and hopped around the kitchen holding his foot. She tried to catch him, but he hopped into the living room and flopped on the couch. She knelt down and gently took his foot in her hand. “What are you doing, Cass? I’m not Cinderella.”
“Role reversal. Didn’t they teach you anything in acting school?”
“I didn’t go to acting school. I preferred to acquire my theatrical skills through life experience.”
“Never mind then.” She rocked back on her heels.
He pulled her up onto his lap. “Tell you what, let’s start at the top and work our way down to the lower appendages.”
“It’s a long way down.” She giggled.
“We’ve got plenty of time.”
In fact, it was precisely an hour later that Cassidy languidly flexed her toes while Jasper kissed them. The rest of her deliciously sated body lay on the couch.
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Title: Flotsam and Jetsam: the Amelia Island Affair
Author: M. S. Spencer
Genre: Cozy mystery
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Book Blurb:
Who's littering the park with corpses?
State Park Rangers Simon Ribault and Ellie Ironstone are used to dealing with messy campers and ravaging raccoons, but when three bodies wash up on the beach, they mobilize all their powers of deduction. Who are they and how did they get to the shore of Amelia Island? Are they connected to the secretive League of the Green Cross? Or linked to a mysterious Jamaican drug ring?
Ellie, new to Amelia Island, must penetrate a close-knit community if she wants to find answers to the mystery, all while deciding between two rivals for her affection: Thad, the handsome local idol, and Simon, the clever, quirky bookworm.
Simon, for his part, will have to call on his not-so-well-honed romantic prowess to lure Ellie away from Thad and at the same time use his wide-ranging research skills to solve the case.
Excerpt:
The M Word
He refused to even consider the subject he knew everybody assumed he was dwelling on. Not that he was scared. Oh, no. But he had to admit doting on Ellie from afar had felt nice and safe. Now that the relationship had evolved, he found himself harried and unsure. And scared.
Marriage? Marriage had never been in the picture, mainly because he was positive no one would have him. Who wants a fellow with knobs on his nose from constantly rubbing it inside books?
He’d had a few short-lived girlfriends, but after college, he’d been too obsessed with mastering every subject that came his way to waste time on amatory pursuits. His mother always said he should have been a librarian. He had obliged her by collecting yet another master’s degree, this time in Library Science. Yes, that’s where I belong. Snug inside four wood-paneled walls lined with shelves filled with other people’s stories.
What does she see in me?
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