New Great Escapes Book Tour Mrs. Odboddy Hometown Patriot by Elaine Faber New Series

Mrs. Odboddy Hometown Patriot
by Elaine Faber

Mrs. Odboddy, Hometown Patriot: 

A WWII tale of chicks and chicanery, suspicion and spies.
(Mrs. Odboddy Mysteries Book 1)

Publisher: Elk Grove Publications (January 21, 2016)
Paperback: 258 pages
ISBN-13: 978-1940781136
E-Book ASIN: B01AYKYXJ4

Synopsis:

Since the onset of WWII, Agnes Agatha Odboddy, hometown patriot and self-appointed scourge of the underworld, suspects conspiracies around every corner…stolen ration books, German spies running amuck, and a possible Japanese invasion off the California coast. This seventy-year-old, model citizen would set the world aright if she could get Chief Waddlemucker to pay attention to the town’s nefarious deeds on any given Meatless Monday.

Mrs. Odboddy vows to bring the villains, both foreign and domestic, to justice, all while keeping chickens in her bathroom, working at the Ration Stamp Office, and knitting argyles for the boys on the front lines.

Imagine the chaos when Agnes’s long-lost WWI lover returns, hoping to find a million dollars in missing Hawaiian money and rekindle their ancient romance. In the thrilling conclusion, Agnes’s predictions become all too real when Mrs. Roosevelt unexpectedly comes to town to attend a funeral and Agnes must prove that she is, indeed, a warrior on the home front.

(From Chapter One)

Wearing comfortable walking shoes, a chic white blouse and a blue serge calf-length skirt, Agnes carried a tray of oatmeal cookies for the boys at the USO in Boyles Springs. She opened the door of her 1930 Model A Coupe and laid the covered tray on the cushions. She slid into the driver’s seat. Old Nelly is getting on in years, but weren’t we all? Aging had nothing to do with spunk and ability. She and Nelly had plenty of both.

She turned the key, tapped the dashboard dials to check the fluids, pulled the timing lever down, pushed the starter button on the floor, and gave it a little gas. The engine rattled to life. She smiled. That was easy!

Driving Old Nelly always took her back to her adventures during WWI when she had to hand crank the engine, then jump into the driver’s seat before the engine died. With the ruts in the road, most assignments included at least one blown tire. Jacking up the car and changing a tire while wearing an ankle length skirt and a corset took perseverance. Everything was harder for a woman back then, thanks to costume issues.

Old Nelly was at the edge of town when the first drops of rain splatted across the windshield. The single wiper swished across the glass. Whish-Yoo! Whish-Yoo! A drizzle of rain seeped through the door window and dribbled down inside the glass. Agnes peered into the gloom. Rain sloshed against the windshield, blurring the images. The road narrowed as it climbed the cliffs beside the ocean.

Agnes flipped on her headlights, slowing the car to the 35-mph speed limit set by the government to save fuel and tires. She smiled. Just a law-abiding citizen, adhering to the speed limit.

The sky darkened and the rain sluiced down. A touch of panic crept across her chest. She swallowed a lump in her throat. I should have canceled tonight. What was I thinking? She pulled the car to the side of the road. Should I go home? She hated to disappoint the boys at the USO, but other volunteers would be there; volunteers who didn’t have to risk their life in the pouring rain on a crooked road along the ocean.

A large black Packard roared up behind her, lighting up Nelly’s interior.

“Fool! At that rate, he’ll end up in the ocean. Well, Nelly old girl. Should we go on to the USO, or turn around and go home?” She squinted at the Packard’s tail lights. They blinked on and off as it dipped down and back up where the road rose. And then the tail lights stopped.

What am I doing, sitting here in the rain? Turn around and go home before you run off the cliff road and kill yourself. Her gaze moved across the black sea. There, far off the coast, a light flashed, barely visible through the mist and rain. Up ahead, the Packard still sat on the beach; its headlights blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

Agnes gasped. “Call me a suspicious old woman if you want, but that’s a Japanese submarine out there signaling. And, sure as God made little green apples, there’s a spy in the Packard, waiting to pass off secret information.”

She wasn’t exactly able to take on a spy ring alone, but she wasn’t about to let the spy get away with his nefarious doings. She would record the license number and alert the authorities.

Agnes jammed the Ford into gear and inched her way through the darkness. Anxiety sharpened her senses. Her pulse quickened at the thought of the risk.

From the light of the quarter moon, she could just see a dark shape on the beach. The Packard! Likely the spy had left his car and was already rowing out in a small boat to deliver his stolen documents to the submarine.

Agnes drew off her shoes and crept toward the Packard, running in short spurts between clumps of ocean grass and driftwood logs. A run in her stocking zipped up her leg. The moon slid behind a cloud, preventing a good view of the Packard. She crept closer. Each breath burned in her throat.

Her chest rattled with short, raspy breaths. She paused. It wouldn’t do to rush headlong into the fray and get caught. One thousand one, one thousand two… Her breathing eased. She crept closer. The moon slid out from behind a cloud revealing the numbers on the license plate. 6X2358

Beep!

Agnes threw herself face down into the sand. Another signal to the submarine? Or had they seen her?

Tiny shells bit her cheek. She spit sand and wiped her hand across her mouth. The door on the Packard creaked. If they catch me, I’m dead!

Agnes closed her eyes. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…Psalms. Good to remember, but doubtful the Archangel Michael would be hovering on the beach tonight after she put herself under the shadow of death on purpose.

Thoughts of home almost made her weep. What was an old woman doing, sneaking up on murderous spies when she could be in her own bed with her cat? Was there still time to back away and leave?

She lifted her head and peered at the vehicle. There sat the Packard, quaking and creaking under the light of the full moon, the squeak of the springs loud in the stillness. Steam clouded the car windows. Soft moans came from inside the car.

Was that…? It was.

Even reaching back into her distant memories, creaking springs and fogged up windows could only mean… “Oh!”

Agnes scooted backwards through the sand. Her stockings sagged and her shoes were full of sand. She crept away, unnoticed.

A fishing boat with poles and buckets hanging off the back drifted off shore. Its running lights blinked as it disappeared into another fogbank.

About The Author –

Elaine is a member of Sisters in Crime, Inspire Christian Writers and Cat Writers Association. She lives in No. Calif with her husband and four house cats (the inspiration for her three humorous cozy cat mysteries, Black Cat’s Legacy, Black Cat and the Lethal Lawyer, and Black Cat and the Accidental Angel).

Mrs. Odboddy’s character is based in no way on Elaine’s quirky personality. Two more Mrs. Odboddy adventures will publish in the near future. Many of Elaine’s short stories have appeared in magazines and multiple anthologies.

• Webpage/blog: www.mindcandymysteries.com
•  Facebook, http://tinyurl.com/zm2j4n5

 Elaine Faber Interview

Is your life anything like it was two years ago? Not really! Two years ago, my days were filled with writing and nights full of dreams of my cat protagonist, Thumper. I was writing Black Cat and the Lethal Lawyer. The cat and his family go to visit Grandmother’s Texas horse ranch where we encounter mountain lions, wild horses, secret identities, an embezzling lawyer, attempted murder and the beginnings of a cat romance between Thumper and his new soulmate, Noe Noe. Pretty exciting stuff!

Now, I spend my days and nights with Mrs. Odboddy, Home Town Patriot. Agnes Odboddy sees Nazi spies and black market conspiracies while keeping chickens in the bathroom and meeting an old WWI lover.

Keeping their loved ones safe, while exposing scumbags or killers, is always the priority.

How long have you been writing? Can’t think of a time I wasn’t either writing poetry for my mama or short stories for my brother. But, not until approaching retirement did I consider getting serious about sharing my work with others such as contests, submissions to magazines or writing a book. Black Cat’s Legacy was my first full length book. I suffered through dozens of partial revisions before print in early 2014.

What advice would you give a new writer just starting out? It takes time to learn before attempting to get published. I can’t emphasize enough the importance of studying with a qualified teacher, being involved with a critique group, attending writing workshops and reading books on writing craft loooooong before attempting to write a book. ‘You don’t know…what you don’t know.’ Until you know much more than you do today about the craft, social media, publication options, etc, a new writer must always be open to learning more.

Tell us something about your newest release that is NOT in the blurb.   Let’s read from page 73…

Agnes stepped onto the (pickup truck) bumper and threw her leg over the tailgate, flung herself down with a plot, crawled under a pile of blankets and lay as still as death. She held her breath and willed her heart to stop pounding, lest the man (stealing ration books) hear it when he returned to the truck. The truck swayed. A door slammed. Her grin faded as the engine purred and the truck moved down the street. Uh-oh, Agnes, what have you gone and done now? If the driver had no problem stealing his neighbor’s ration books, how far would he go to protect his black market secrets?.....

Of course, when Agnes is discovered, she…. Oh, wait! You need to buy the book to see what happens next….!!!

Are the main characters in your books taken after someone you know?

I always say that my cat stories are inspired by my seven cats but I adamantly deny any similarity between myself and eccentric Agnes Odboddy…except for her age…and her take- charge personality…and… and her vivid imagination. Besides that…nothing at all. OK, I have a Siamese cat named Ling Ling, too, and the same kitchen clock …but otherwise, nothing. Completely a work of fiction…all of it.

Check out my books at Amazon… all just $3.99 for e-books.

Thanks.

Black Cat’s Legacy   http://tinyurl.com/lrvevgm

Black Cat and the Lethal Lawyer  http://tinyurl.com/q3qrgyu

Black Cat and the Accidental Angel   http://tinyurl.com/07zcsm2

Mrs. Odboddy Home Town Patriot  http://tinyurl.com/hdbvzsv

Elaine.Faber@mindcandymysteries.com

 Purchase Links

• Mrs. Odboddy: http://tinyurl.com/hdbvzsv
• Black Cat’s Legacy: http://tinyurl.com/lrvevgm
• Black Cat and the Lethal Lawyer http://tinyurl.com/q3qrgyu
• Black Cat/Accidental Angel http://tinyurl.com/07zcsm2

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