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Contact: Janet Elaine Smith, Marketing Director

STAR PUBLISH ANNOUNCES CONTRACT SIGNING BY AWARD-WINNING MYSTERY AUTHOR CORA MILLER

"From sizzling hot to spine-tingling chill..." award-winning mystery writer Cora Miller

says of her latest book, "Winter Collection." This collection of 11 short stories will have you sitting on the edge of your seat. Footprints in the snow lead you through the book, which teeters on the edge of being a true thriller. You will cross paths with love gone awry, revenge, and much more. If you enjoy Mary Higgins Clark's offerings, you will find yourself rapt in Cora Miller's tales.

The book includes the following short stories: Alabaster and Crimson, Prisoner of Love, Allowance, Love Thy Neighbor, White Night, Over Pie and Coffee, Outsourcing, Vagrant Hearts and others.

The book will be released in Winter 2006 from Star Publish.

For more information see http://starpublish.com

Shooting Star Books
Where authors and readers can hang their wishes on our Stars!
Janet Elaine Smith, Marketing Director, Star Books
http://starpublish.com
http://www.janetsmithstarbooks.tripod.com

From Winter Collection
Girl

In the summer of ’69 I turned twelve. In the summer of ’69, I lost my innocence. It was this blistering hot July, where heat squiggled from the concrete in virulent waves, that I crossed over from a little girl lost in Barbie’s and 45’s and races with neighborhood boys, to the knowledge that life is precious and it is short. It’s something that comes and goes like the wind, ebbs and flows like the tide.

On this hot July midday, I was on my way to Mr. Hinton’s place. Mr. Hinton was a friend of Uncle Leroy. I remember the night of their discussion like it was yesterday. I crept to my bedroom door, reached up and turned the knob. I cracked the door open so I could hear what was being said. A sliver of living room light sliced into my room with the stealth of a knife, I held my breath—listened. I heard my mother’s brother telling Mr. Hinton I would be perfect.

“Henry, you need someone to cook for you and keep that nice house of yours clean. Rose is a smart girl. She can cook, clean, wash clothes and she can even look after Beau Henry for you while you at work.”

“She’s a good girl, Henry.” Mama chimed in. “She never give me a minutes trouble. She’ll stay from underfoot and she’ll be a big help to you.”

It was settled. I would start working in that big house on Poplar Street on Monday. The pay would be two dollars a week—a huge sum for a twelve-year old girl in 1969. It would be great because now I would have my own money. I hated asking Mama for money every time I wanted something. I liked to have the things the other girls had, but Mama and me were poor. We used to have a nice apartment in a clean safe neighborhood with trees and grass. That was before Daddy left. He went to get a newspaper one day and never came back. Whenever I asked Mama about him---Where’s Daddy at? When is Daddy coming home?---she got mad. After three years, I stopped asking. His name was never mentioned in our house. It was like he was erased from existence.

Soon Mama got a job behind the concession stand at the Regal Cinema. She brought home thirty-eight dollars a week and sometimes, withered hotdogs and stale popcorn from the job. One week the landlord put a sign under our door that said

in large print and some other words I couldn’t understand in smaller print. Mama balled up the paper and said some bad words. I heard her crying in the bathroom. She had turned on the faucet, but I heard her anyway. For two weeks we only had old hotdogs and popcorn and water to eat. That’s when I heard Uncle Leroy tell Mama I should get a job so I could help out. I think Uncle Leroy was just tired of Mama asking him for money whenever she was short. Whatever the reason, I started working.

Now she could eat lunch at work and I could too. I took my first pay and bought baloney and crackers. Sometimes I would make soup and baloney sandwiches for dinner. There was always dinner on the table at night so Mama could relax a little. She didn’t seem as evil when she came home since she didn’t have to worry about me eating up the little bit of money she brought home.

Now with my new job there would be no more—Mama, can I have seventy-five cents for James Brown’s new record; or, Mama, can I have a nickel for a snow cone; or Mama, can I have a quarter to go to the movies? My friends and I walked the three blocks east to The State Theater to see movies. I was far too embarrassed to go to The Regal and see my mother with a hair net pulling back her stringy hair while she scooped popcorn into a red and white striped box for impatient moviegoers or squirted mustard on some bratty kid’s hotdog.

I had my own money now. I no longer had to lie to my friends about getting a weekly allowance. They would reach into their pockets every Saturday and produce Kennedy fifty-cent pieces. Alfreda Winright always had a silver dollar! I would lie and say I lost my money, or I already spent it, or my mother forgot to pay it to me before she went to work.

‘Well, why don’t you go down to The Regal and git it from her.’ Alfreda had said. I wanted to punch her so hard, but instead I just looked down at my tattered shoes. I was too scared to start a fight, so I just remembered not to use that as an excuse in the future. I couldn’t let them know my mother couldn’t spare a quarter, or fifty cents or a dollar each week just so I could buy candy. With my new job I always had money in my pocket.

Mr. Hinton never called me by my given name. He just called me girl. After a while, I started to think that was my name. Especially, since I got rewarded, so to speak. Every Friday Mr. Hinton peeled two grimy, sweaty bills from what looked like an amazingly large roll he pulled from his pocket, and handed them to me. I pressed the money into the pocket of my apron. The agreement was Mama got one of the dollars the other was mine to keep. A whole dollar! Alfreda was so jealous. She just rolled her eyes when I produced my dollar during our Saturday morning meetings.

“So. I got my dollar for free from my mother. You had to clean that big old house for crazy Mr. Hinton and his nutty son. His house is haunted by Mrs. Hinton, you know.”

I was embarrassed. It was true, or at least it was rumored. After Mr. Hinton’s wife caught the cancer and died, he started acting kind of crazy—talking to somebody nobody else could see and not speaking to people who spoke to him on the street. He spent some time in Lohlm’s Psychiatric Institute, but after a week he was back home. His eight-year old son Beau Henry was “touched” Mama had said. He talked funny and some kids made fun of him. Not me though. Mama would get the switch to me if she heard about me making fun of somebody like Beau Henry. When Mr. Hinton was in the hospital, my Uncle Leroy and Aunt Bunnie looked after Beau Henry. I heard Aunt Bunnie tell Mama something was wrong with that boy.

Beau Henry seemed young for his age. I would learn years later he was mildly autistic. He was a friendly little boy but he was kind of strange. I talked to him and played cowboys and Indians and army man with him in his house. Outside of the house I acted like he was invisible. He looked so hurt, but always forgave me. He was the only person who loved me without condition. I could say what I wanted and do what I felt and Beau Henry just smiled. I didn’t want my friends to know I really liked him. If they knew that, there would be no end to their teasing.

Though the teasing I endured at the hands of my friends embarrassed me, I enjoyed working for Mr. Hinton. He was quiet, not very messy for a man, and he seemed to enjoy the cornbread and stew or cornbread and cabbage or cornbread and beans I cooked for he and Beau Henry.

Anyway, I was on my way to work this hot summer day. When I reached the house, Beau Henry was in the yard playing army man.

I brushed past him without slowing down. “I have to do my work, Beau Henry. If I get finished in time, I’ll play with you.”

By the time the dusting, a load of laundry and the dinner were done I went looking for Beau Henry. He was spread eagle in the dirt, making the plastic green soldiers do maneuvers. I could see Mr. Hinton lumbering down the avenue.

“Come on Beau Henry.” I reached down and he put his gritty hand in mine. “Let’s get washed up for supper.”

“This is good, Girl.” He’d said, not even raising his head from the plate.

They sat at the small dining room table. Mr. Hinton shoveled scoops of beans into his mouth. He sopped his plate with the cornbread and gulped milk. Beau Henry mostly played with his food. He drank two glasses of milk. The dinner plates were cleared away and I was at the kitchen sink washing plates, bowls, glasses and spoons, I heard a commotion in the other room. I crept toward the doorway and saw Mr. Hinton in his easy chair, his hands covering his face. He was talking, adult talking. But he was the only grown-up there. Beau Henry looked at him curiously--touched his arm trying to reach him. Mr. Hinton pushed the boy away.

“Daddy, can I hug you? Can I make it all better?” Beau Henry’s big brown eyes pleaded with his father. His father rejected him. He gave the boy another shove. Beau Henry hit the wall. He collapsed onto the floor. I wanted to help him. But I was afraid. I saw the boy stir. He lifted his head. He curled inside himself, afraid to move.

“I worked hard at that mill for eighteen years and now they wanna let me go? What am I gonna do?” He wept. I could see the terror in Beau Henry’s eyes. I was scared too as the big man wailed. He rose from his seat. He turned the big chair over and began to fling tables, chairs and other things into the walls. Beau Henry ran. The screen door slammed behind him.

In less than an hour, Mr. Hinton calmed down. He looked around the house like he’d just entered it.

“Oh, no.” He grabbed his head with his hands. “It’s starting again.” He paced for a moment, his hands still smashed into his head.

I looked in all of Beau Henry’s hiding places---the hollowed out oak tree; the circle of bushes he used as a fortress when we played cowboys and Indians; I even looked up into the tree he sometimes climbed. There were no signs of Beau Henry. I went around asking the neighbors, people walking the avenue, I went down to the corner store and asked Mr. Drucker if he’d seen Beau Henry. Nobody had seen him. When night fell, Mr. Hinton called the police. One night turned into two, two nights became two weeks, then two months. The summer became fall and autumn came and went. During the Christmas holidays anyone approaching that big old Hinton house was shaken by the wails of the grieving father. His pain was something that could be felt and even seen through the walls of the rambling old house.

Then the winter came. Mr. Hinton lost his home. Mr. Hinton lost his mind. I’d see him over the years, ragged and broken, wandering the streets asking strangers if they’d seen his boy. Beau Henry was never found.

I married Roy Jamison, my boyfriend since ninth grade. We had a couple of kids, divorced. I had two more kids with my second husband. We still married but we don’t get along. I love my children though--even when they get on my nerves. I got three boys and a girl. Whenever I loose patience with them I think about Beau Henry and how the last connection he had with his father was a shove, rejection and a backhand into a wall. The last connection Beau Henry had with a friend was her cowardice. He was always nice to me and I really didn’t deserve it.

Sometimes I look into the eyes of my children and I see the wide innocent browns of Beau Henry and I know because of him, I will never speak to my children in anger and I will give them all the love I have inside of me to give. And I hope somewhere someone is giving Beau Henry all the love and kindness he deserves.

(Atlanta, GA, September 1, 2005)— The release of Dead Broke, by C.M. Miller, published by iUniverse, Inc., the leading provider of publishing technology solutions for authors, announced today…the launch of the eagerly awaited fourth installment of The Audrey Wilson Mystery Series, DEAD BROKE!

Financial planner turned amateur sleuth Audrey Wilson discovers the body of her client Dreama Davenport in the restroom of a posh new restaurant on its opening night. The police look into Dreama’s life in search of her killer and Audrey realizes that Dreama, along with several other young mothers in Rosemont’s impoverished Glenwood and Hardwick sections, have suffered the recent loss of a child. What initially appear to be tragic accidents begin to look like something more sinister as Audrey discovers that the decedents were all insured through Pacifico Assurance a company founded by drug lord turned securities magnate, Pharaoh Dobson. What’s even more suspicious is that local Lothario and Pacifico insurance agent, Marcus Peyton, sired nearly all of the young children who have died. In Audrey’s mind there is a clear connection. The children of her clients are dying and Audrey feels compelled to uncover the truth.

But the task is a dangerous one and now that Audrey’s lover, attorney Jules Dreyfus is back in her life, and she has adopted a ten-year old autistic boy, Jules is afraid that Audrey’s snooping could leave the child an orphan for the second time in his short life. Jules gives her an ultimatum: marry him and leave the detective work to the police or he will leave her forever. But Audrey still holds back. Meanwhile, the maniacal killer is closing in, ravaging families and taking down anyone else who gets close. And soon Audrey discovers that the monster is nearer than she could have ever imagined.

“This book was an emotional process for me.” Miller said in a recent interview with iUniverse.com. “I remember being a single mom on public assistance and then later working days and going to school at night so that I could support myself and my oldest son. I could feel what the mothers in the story were living because I’ve lived the same thing.”

iU --- Besides the murder mystery, what did you want readers to gain from DEAD BROKE?

CMM---“ First, I want to entertain. But I also want to give readers something to think about, something that will stick with them and make them want more. There is so much negative attention given to single mothers. I wanted this story to draw attention to the positive things that young mothers give to their children. People should know that those with limited education and wealth have dreams too.”

DEAD BROKE is a tight murder mystery and C.M. Miller is a gifted writer that has perfect pitch. The characters are well-rounded, believable and sympathetic. The scenes are rich, fast-paced and bring the reader right into the action. DEAD BROKE grabs you from the first riveting page and the conclusion that you could have never imagined.

C.M. Miller is an Ohio native who simultaneously worked full-time, maintained a household, raised her son and graduated with honors with a degree in Economics. Today she lives with her family in Georgia.

DEAD BROKE is the fourth installment of The Audrey Wilson Mystery Series. It’s the culmination of the series set in fictional Rosemont, Ohio, an African American community predominately populated by blacks of all economic levels. The series features financial planner and amateur sleuth Audrey Wilson. Taxes, Death & Trouble was released in 2001, followed by Accrual Way to Die (2002) and What She Left Behind (2003). What She Left Behind was awarded 2003 Mystery of the Year by Mahogany Book Club in Albany, NY.

iUniverse provides individuals a simple, fast and affordable way to publish, market, and sell fiction and non-fiction books. The company is one of the largest book publishing companies in the United States. iUniverse eliminates the necessity of massive print runs, dramatically shortens time-to-market, and gives authors control over when and how their works are published. iUniverse publishing programs are endorsed by industry leading author organizations, including the Authors Guild, ASJA, and Mystery Writers of America. iUniverse is a proud member of the Association of American Publishers, Publishers Marketing Association, and Small Publishers Association of North America. The company's major investors include Warburg Pincus and Barnes & Noble.

Children in Rosemont are dying. While the city mourns the loss of innocent lives, Audrey suspects that the deaths are not mere accidents. The decedents are not only her clients but all are insured through Pacifico Assurance, the company headed by drug lord turned legitimate businessman Pharaoh Dobson. Audrey races agaisnt the clock trying to unravel the mystery behind the deaths before the maniac strikes again.

Dead Broke is the fourth and final installment of The Audrey Wilson Mystery Series. This fast-paced, spine tingler has a shocking, unexpected twist at the end that will satisfy any mystery lovers palate.

For signed copies of
TAXES, DEATH & TROUBLE
ACCRUAL WAY TO DIE
WHAT SHE LEFT BEHIND
and DEAD BROKE

mail payment of $18.00 for each copy to P.O. BOX 1454 Marietta, GA 30061-1454
or write to CS at cmm@chocolatesleuth.com Or use PAYPAL!

20% Discount for the entire series and on purchases of five books or more of the same title.
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