Thursday, October 13, 2016


Happy Thursday, Everyone!

I hope you are all having a great week. Today, I have one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Meyette taking over my blog. Elizabeth Meyette, author of The Cavanaugh House is here to tell us about Buried Secrets: Sequel to The Cavanaugh House. I'm reading Buried Secrets now and it is fantastic. 

Elizabeth welcome. My blog is all yours...

Thank you for inviting me to your blog today, Nancy. I’m so excited to share the news of my latest release, Buried Secrets: Sequel to The Cavanaugh House. 

Like The Cavanaugh House, Buried Secrets is set in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York in 1968. Many readers ask why I set the book in 1968 rather than today, and I have a couple of reasons.

1.      Write What You Know
I hate to reveal my age, but I was alive and living the life of a carefree teen in 1968. I was shaped and inspired by the music of that era: The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, yes, even The Monkees. But also by protest music such as “War” (What is it good for? Absolutely nothin’) by Edwin Starr and “Abraham, Martin and John” by Dion. I loved that era of awakening and “give peace a chance.”

The Women’s Liberation Movement was waging its battle back then, and my protagonist, Jesse, is dedicated to the Woman’s Lib philosophy. I think we’ve lost sight of just how important that fight was to get women where we are today—though we still have a way to go. All of this informed my writing of both The Cavanaugh House and Buried Secrets.

2.      Technology
The main reason I set my books in 1968 rather than today was the lack of instant communication. When Jesse gets into dangerous situations, which this stubborn red-head does quite often, she can’t pull out her cell phone and call or text for help. I was able to build suspense and ratchet up the peril because she was stuck where she was, alone. She had to use her brains and critical thinking skills (yes, I was a teacher) in order to figure a way out with no help. I think that increased the odds against her and made her a stronger protagonist.

I hope readers will enjoy Jesse’s story. Oh, and then there’s Joe… 

Buried Secrets blurb

When Jesse Graham almost runs over a “body” in the road one night, she is plunged into a labyrinth of secrets, lies and murder. All Jesse wants is a simple life teaching at St. Bart’s… and a chance at love with Joe Riley. She realizes that plan has been thwarted when puzzling occurrences at St. Bartholomew Academy for Girls get increasingly dangerous. The danger doesn’t just spring from the ghost who haunts the grounds of St. Bart’s, but from a sinister presence that is not ghostly at all. As she digs into the mystery, threats on her life and the life of her student escalate.

Which danger threatens her life the most? The ghost haunting her student or the secrets buried in the school?

Buried Secrets excerpt: 
Labor Day, Monday, September 2, 1968
Jesse Graham squinted through the windshield wipers at the rain-swept road ahead of her. In her twenty-eight years, she had never liked being out in a thunderstorm, and this one was a doozy.
“NASA plans to put a man on the moon next year, but nobody can invent windshield wipers that work in a downpour,” she grumbled.
She hadn’t meant to work until after sunset, but she’d obsessed with putting up creative bulletin boards and adding final touches to the course guides to be ready for the first day of school tomorrow. Though she had taught in Rochester for five years, no doubt her obsession stemmed from the fact that she was the newest faculty member at St. Bartholomew Academy for Girls.
Adjusting to the late-summer darkness was hard enough, but add this thunderstorm and visibility was nil. At least upstate New York didn’t suffer through tornadoes or hurricanes. She gripped the wheel, concentrating on avoiding the deep ditch carved out along the shoulder.
A flash of lightning revealed a shape sprawled in the middle of the road ahead. She leaned forward, as if that would help her see if it was a deer someone hit and left to die. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the shape again, revealing blonde hair spread out on the wet pavement. In a moment of clarity—at least she could always count on that oddity in the midst of panic—she knew it was not a deer. Downshifting, she slammed on the brakes, her 1965 Volkswagen Beetle skidding sideways. She broke out in prickles of sweat as her car thudded against the form and halted.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” she cried out.
She was pinned to her seat. Her legs shook, then her whole body. She fumbled for the door handle, unable to find it at first. Finally, she grasped it, threw open the door, and scrambled out onto the road. The sky strobed as a lightning bolt slammed into a nearby tree. Her nose stung with the acrid smell of sulfur. Her knees buckled, but she recovered, stumbling toward the immobile form. Slowing her pace, she neared the cloth-draped figure, afraid it might leap up and attack her. Afraid it might not move at
Trembling, she dropped to her knees beside the form. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of long, blonde hair streaming out from beneath the gray wool blanket that covered the shape. Pulling the blanket back, she gasped.
Have I just killed someone?
A blonde wig was perched atop a dummy fashioned from burlap stuffed with hay. What the...? Slowly, she realized what she was looking at. She breathed with relief. But her relief was short-lived.
Son of a bitch. This prank could have sent someone flipping end over end. Storms weren’t known to improve traction.
“Who the hell would pull a rotten trick like this?”
She looked around—was the perpetrator standing just off in the trees beside the road? Rain spattered against her hair. As she brushed the clinging ringlets from her eyes, she pulled up the hood of her nylon poncho. Heart pounding, she leaned back on her heels, inhaling deeply to still her trembling. Hot breath escaped through her flared nostrils. Grabbing the dummy, she wrapped the blanket around it and lugged it to the car.
About Elizabeth Meyette

Believer in dreams-come-true and self-confessed chocoholic, Elizabeth Meyette is the author of four novels. The Cavanaugh House and its sequel, Buried Secrets, are mysteries set in 1968 in the Finger Lakes region of New York State. Love’s Destiny and Love’s Spirit, are historical romances set in colonial Virginia.
Elizabeth is an Amazon Best-selling author, a PAN (Published Authors Network) member of Romance Writers of America, a member of Sisters in Crime and a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators.

Before pursuing her writing career full time, Elizabeth taught English, Journalism, and Library Science/Technology in Midland, Michigan. After retiring from teaching, Elizabeth embarked on her writing career full-time and, in addition to her four novels, has published poetry, magazine articles and her blog site, Meyette’s Musings. A friend said of her, “You haven’t retired, you’ve refired!” She is currently working on her fifth and sixth novels and three picture books.

Elizabeth and her husband Richard live in west Michigan where they enjoy the beauty of the Great Lakes. They have an agreement that she cannot cook on writing days after he endured burnt broccoli and overcooked chicken.  Fortunately, Richard is an excellent cook.
Visit Elizabeth at her website

Elizabeth’s books are available on her Author Page at Amazon. com

That's it for today. Elizabeth it is always a pleasure hosting you on my blog. I wish you the very best success. If anyone has any questions for Elizabeth Meyette please don't be shy. You can comment below in the comment section, or if that doesn't work for you, please leave your note HERE, my blog email, and I'll past it alone. 

Have a great weekend. I hope you find the time to read a wonderful book.

Hugs to all,

Nancy C. Weeks


  1. Thank you for inviting me to your blog today, Nancy. I always love a chance to visit with you.

  2. You had me at 1968. A very special and important time for women and I can't wait to read this new book.

  3. Elizabeth, it was my pleasure. I'm loving Buried Secrets. Kathleen, thanks for dropping by. I wasn't a teen in 68, but that still is my time. Edwin Starr, and War was my first concert. What a night that was.

  4. Thank you, Kathleen. Yes, women made great strides in 1968, sometimes at great cost. I hope you enjoy Buried Secrets!

  5. You saw Edwin Starr in concert???!!! You must have been dancing in the aisles, Nancy!