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Perilous P’s BIGGEST Secret Revealed

My hubs is a really cute promoter of my books.

photo of graveyard

Here is where the bodies are buried, NOT in my books! James Henry’s Headstone
Saint Paul’s Church National Historic Site, Mount Vernon, New York Copyright by WyoJones. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

My hubs is a really cute promoter of my books. I didn’t realize this until we were at a party and he was like, “This is my wife. I told you about her books…” [insert small talk here] then, “I think she’s killed me about a hundred times in her books.”

We all laugh and I make my, “I’m not saying when and where,” face and we laugh some more. Of course, when I found out I died in 1999, and then with the whole Harper Lee thing, well, it made me think. Made me reconsider my, “I’m not saying,” position. I don’t know when my not-dead-but-still-here will morph into dead-not-here-anymore, so it seems like I should get the truth “out there” somewhere. You know, set the record straight.

Besides, after I go toward the Light, I don’t want any tell-all “She Killed Me in Her Books” article and such popping up out there, profiting from me finally getting the heck out this existence.

So I’m going to tell you my Secrets. I’m going to finally reveal who died (fictionally) and who didn’t die (fictionally) in my books.

  • Only one actual (fictional) husband died in one of my books. I won’t tell you which one, because that’s a spoiler. But yeah, only one.
  • I’ve never actually (fictionally) killed my husband in any of my books. He thinks he has because of his sense of humor, the research I’ve done for my books, and maybe the non-fiction books on my shelf made him nervous. Who knows? Oh, wait, I know. And no, not ever.
  • He’s not IN my books, because, hey, my heroes in my books GET ANOTHER GIRL. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie, but you are all mine for all eternity. Don’t even get to escape me in the next life. All you can hope for is a short break if you go toward the Light before I figure out where it is.
  • Most of my other (fictional) victims are people who annoy me in traffic and/or don’t understand how to navigate the drive-through at McDonald’s.
  • I have done a few (fictional) hits on people for friends and family. Obviously, confidentiality still applies to those (fictional) deaths. If I kill and tell, people won’t trust me with their (fictional) hits in the future. I’m sure you understand.

So there it is. In writing, well, typing, but in my Own typing. The Truth is now Out There.

No actual husbands were harmed in the writing of my books, fictional or otherwise. 

So, do you ever read a book and wonder how much of the authors’ life is in the story? Have you ever been at a party with my husband and wondered which books he (fictionally) died in? Well, now you know. But please do tell YOUR secrets here. Obviously, you can trust me not to tell.

Perilously yours,


P.S. I wanted to feature the book where a husband (fictionally) dies, but that would be a spoiler, sweetie, so I’ll do some hand wave-ium distract-imonium and feature Dead Spaces. Because it’s August. It’s hot. And it’s set in New Orleans, which is really hot. But you can visit and stay cool. Because I’m nice like that.

cover art

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