Jurassic Park (1990; Michael Crichton) was the first pick for comps for Shattered (2026). Of course. I would have also added Extinction (2024) by Douglas Preston.

Just FYI, Preston and his writing partner Lincoln Child are my writing idols for science-based thrillers. But I published my De-Extinction series first—Unmasked, 2023. BTW, the eBook is free on pretty much every online platform except Amazon 🙄.

Unmasked eBook is FREE

Recursion is a sci-fi thriller that explores the loss of memory in Alzheimer’s and the creation of a chair (a dedicated scientist) to map those memories and allow the Alzheimer's sufferer to re-experience what was lost.

The inventor, though, can’t fulfill this promise within the input of money, and is visited by a backer who promises financial support, because he knows the potential of these memories: stored memories can transport a person to the past. Or, at least, a new branch of the past.

This allows the traveler a redo for a tragic mistake or to become rich beyond the dreams of avarice, because they retain those other, future memories—so buy Apple at 10 and become a billionaire in 15 years.

The problem is the original scientist doesn’t see those history-bending implications until too late.

A second protagonist (a New York City cop) is still dealing with the grief of his daughter’s death ten years earlier and the dissolution of his marriage because of it. He begins to look into a phenomenon called False Memory Syndrome and finds out about the chair and the ability to relive the past and stop things like the tragic death of his daughter.

The problem is, creating a new branch in the past sort of messes with EVERYONE’S past, and suicides skyrocket.

But it gets worse, and worse, and worse. Groundhog Day (1993) is a sweet movie about making yourself a better person because the main character has to relive that one day over and over. Reliving the past over and over in Recursion becomes Apocalyptic.

Much of the story/plot is about trying to stop the chair from being created, but then the bad guy just goes back in time and recreates it, and everything still falls apart.

I recommend the book, but the middle slows considerably. The beginning might be slow for some, but I love the sciency stuff, so I was good. The end? I couldn’t put the book down. I read for two straight hours to finish it.

And the ending is a redemption that’s truly earned.

Like Jurassic Park (1993)—the movie this time—Recursion, and my De-Extinct Zoo series, it all comes down to that quote by Ian Malcolm:

The De-Extinct Zoo Mystery series:

“Smart, twisty, science‑driven suspense.”

Eagle feathers—or turkey feathers dyed to look like eagle feathers—play a pivotal part in the plot of The Third Warrior, book 2 in the Nicky Matthews Mystery series.

Here’s the gist of why they are important in the book: It is illegal to possess any raptor feather in the U.S. without the proper paperwork. And I mean, you can get into a lot of trouble.

If you find a bald or golden eagle feather on a hike, or see a bird hit by the side of a road or highway, or lying below a powerline, etc., the law says leave it where it lies.

Under the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act, possessing an eagle feather—yes, even one you “just found”—can mean fines up to tens of thousands of dollars and even jail time for repeat offenses.

Eagles are protected at the federal level, and their feathers are treated like the birds themselves. Seriously, you can’t take, keep, sell, or trade them without authorization.

“But,” you say, astonished, “I see them all the time on the side-of-the-road Trading Posts, Native American art, or Native American-shaped art.” Nope. Those are usually turkey feathers dyed to look like eagle feathers.

There is one crucial exception—and it isn’t for tourists, collectors, or costume designers. Enrolled members of federally recognized tribes can apply for permits to receive eagle feathers and parts for religious and cultural use, usually through the National Eagle Repository near Denver.

Federal agencies send in eagles that die from natural causes, power lines, collisions, and other non‑poaching sources; those birds are cataloged, stored, and eventually distributed to Native applicants for use in ceremonies like healings, marriages, funerals, and daily prayer.

It’s a strange intersection of wildlife law and religious freedom. The same feather that could land a non‑Native in court can, in the right hands, become a sacred object, passed down through generations.

Click below to pick up The Third Warrior to read, or request that your local library carry it.

The Third Warrior

Sacred Ghosts is not an easy book to write—not because the words won’t come, but because of the difficult themes I need to weave through it.

There are a lot of threads, one of which is tied into the culture and traditions of the fictional pueblo where my protagonist works, her feelings on justice and equality, and how they collide.

It’s a balance to show both sides of a much larger argument about past history, how it intersects with the present, and how to carry that burden through to the future.

The premise of the book is this (and it could change): A non‑Native tribal cop who loves her adopted community must investigate a series of crimes rooted in stolen history and political betrayal, and ultimately choose between keeping her badge or staying true to her own sense of justice.

So let’s metaphor this out in clay because I have some beautifully painted Native American pottery sitting in my home.

The past is like fired clay.

The shape is set, the surface hardened. It would be nice to change it—but you can’t.

What you can change is what the past means in your life.

Every regret, every mistake, every loss is raw material you don’t get to discard, but you can repurpose it. You can’t rewrite what happened, but you can decide whether it becomes a weight that drags you down or a base you build on. The same event can be a wound you keep poking at, keep making bleed, or a scar that teaches you where your limits are and how far you’ve come.

That’s what “working with what you have” really is.

It’s NOT passive acceptance, but active craftsmanship. You take your current self—your history, your skills, your damage, your loves, your sorrows, your regrets—and you ask, “Given all of this, what can I do next?” Not “What should I have done then?” but “What will I do now?”

The future, unlike the past, is still soft clay.

When you focus on shaping your next decision, your next conversation, your next small act of bravery (like hitting “publish”) or kindness, you’re quietly changing the only part of time that ever responds to pressure.

Over and over, those choices accumulate into a life that, if not free of regret, is at least not ruled by it. Deep, huh?

You don’t get a different past. You do get an evolving present, and a future that’s constantly being shaped out of it. The work is to stop arguing with the vessel you’ve already fired and start learning what you can still make with the soft clay that’s left in your hands.

The digital hand on the cover of Signs: A De-Extinct Zoo Mystery (book 2 in the series) was specifically placed because Elizabeth, the alpha female of the Gigantopithicus blacki troop at the Pleistocene BioPark, has been taught American Sign Language (ASL).

Here’s the first scene with Elizabeth, the heroine protagonist, and Milly Smith, the senior resident veterinarian at the BioPark (slightly abridged):

“Good morning, Elizabeth Barrett,” Milly said and signed, arms and hands moving carefully through the greeting.

Grape morning, Milly Smush. Elizabeth’s huge hand flashed through the greeting, accompanied by a low musical hooting that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Milly propped her hands on her hips, frowning a mock-stern expression at Elizabeth’s purposefully jumbled welcome. “Not morning apple?” She said apple but signed melon instead.

Silly Milly Milly silly. Elizabeth bounced on her seat, hooting louder, enjoying the joke. When she stopped, she signed apple and waited until Milly repeated the motion.

“Apple.” Milly pushed the knuckle of her index finger into her cheek and twisted her hand. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth laid her hand against the plexiglass, and Milly pressed hers over it as though they were touching. The pinkish-gray skin of the giganto’s palm dwarfed hers, four times larger in all directions.

Slowly, Elizabeth slid her hand up the glass. Milly’s hand followed. Up went the ape’s hand and up went Milly’s until she stretched onto her tip toes.

Elizabeth hooted and stood to her full three-meter height, hand pressed on the plexiglass high above Milly’s head. She stared down at Milly, eyebrows raised, creating half a dozen deep curving creases on her forehead.

Upside-down smiles.

The hands part is something I “borrowed” from one of my FAVORITE romantic comedies, Return to Me (2000). Yes, I love this movie, and I wish I’d thought of the story, and I was touched that an ASL signing ape—Sydney—drove the story.

In the movie, the press of the ape’s hand with the human’s hand through the glass becomes an amazing connection between what was lost and what is gained, as well as a symbol of what we as humans share with the animals on our planet.

Deep, huh?

I think you’d better get and read this book …

SIGNS: GET IT NOW

I was just a kid when I first saw The Poseidon Adventure, and it made a HUGE impression. It was one of a bunch of excellent disaster-adventure films made in the early 70s, like The Towering Inferno (1974) and Airport (1970) (not to be confused with the spoof classic Airplane! 1980).

The cast of The Poseidon Adventure includes my favorite male movie star, Gene Hackman, Red Buttons, Jack Albertson (Grandpa Joe/the Man), Ernest Borgnine, and Shelley Winters as part of a tiny group (led by Gene Hackman) that has to climb their way up to the hull of the overturned ship in the middle of the ocean for rescue.

In one scene, Hackman swims through a flooded compartment with a rope, hoping to find a way to lead the group out of danger, but gets stuck. Shelley Winters’ character, Belle Rosen, was a world-class swimmer as a young woman (she’s a “cozy” grandmother now). She dives in and saves the day, only to have a heart attack and die on the other side, sacrificing herself for the others. That sacrifice—and the underwater threading with rope—stuck with me.

So I used it—or something along the same lines—in Ambushed. Only I added 25-foot de-extinct crocodiles in the flooded underground cavern AND the shadow of a scene from True Grit (1969) at the end.

But that’s for next time.

Get Ambushed Now

A cop's estranged mother holds the key to a deadly tribal secret—now killers are closing in, and time is running out in the frozen New Mexico wilderness.

Spirit Daughters follows police Sergeant Nicky Matthews as a non-Native “outsider” cop working on a fictional Native American Pueblo in New Mexico. The first two books—Hearts of the Missing and The Third Warrior—are the first two “acts” in a four-act (book) series. The fourth and final book in this part of the series, Sacred Ghosts, is coming out soon.

The book is, in a sense, about creation. Creation stories of Native American tribal people, the birth of a baby, and reconciliation, which is, in its own way, a change from the old way of thinking about someone to a new way.

And, in the Nicky Matthews mystery series, its “element” is water, associated with rebirth, right?

One of the things that I wanted to do with this series was to compare and contrast cultures in a meaningful way without disparaging EITHER SIDE. I’m not an expert by any means, but I had both non-Native police officers and Native cultural voices (sensitivity readers) to help me with these stories.

If I sound a little grumpy, it’s because I am. When Hearts of the Missing was published traditionally after winning ANOTHER contest (Tony Hillerman Prize), I was basically told that, as an outsider to Native culture, I had no right to tell a story as a non-Native American.

Do something else, write something different. Write about what you know.

That’s what I’d done. That’s what I do.

And that’s when I abandoned traditional publishing. I realized how they presented themselves was as a fantasy about bringing great stories to readers, when they were all about fearing cultural trends and backlash (see American Dirt, 2020; Shy Girl, 2026).

So remember, traditionally published books aren’t necessarily “better”, and Indie published books are not necessarily “less than.” Don’t judge a book by its cover—or its author’s affiliations. My advice?

And now that I’m reminded of that time in my life, I don’t understand how I could’ve forgotten, unless those special days were just plain swamped out by everyday having to be up front in my mind: M-W-F, class starts at 9:00 am, get to work early to review lecture, by 8:10 am at least. Start dinner at 5:50 pm if you get home on time. and the kids have soccer/softball/band at …

Swamped. Time to clear your mind and think back.

Francie counted the year’s passing not by the days or months but by the holidays that came along. Her year started with the Fourth of July because it was the first holiday that came along after school closed …

The next holiday was Halloween. Neely blackened his face with soot, wore his cap backwards and his coat inside out …

Francie, in company with other little girls, roamed the streets carrying a bit of white chalk. She went around drawing a large, quick cross on the back of each coated figure that came by. The children performed the ritual without meaning. The symbol was remembered but the reason forgotten.

—Ch 24, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1943)

Sacred Ghosts

That lost meaning of rituals comes into the science and history I’m weaving into a book I’m writing now, Sacred Ghosts.

Some of the early European immigrants (from Spain and Portugal) who settled in New Mexico brought Jewish rituals with them that had to be hidden because of the Inquisition. Recent generations recall some of those rituals, but, at the time, didn’t realize their roots. We call these Spanish settlers and their descendants Crypto-Jews or conversos.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn was my mother’s favorite book growing up. I’m finding it’s one of mine now, too.

The first day Francie came home from school and reported that she sat next to a girl who had bugs walking up and down the lanes of her hair, Katie went into action. She scrubbed Francie’s head with a cake of her course strong yellow scrubwoman’s sopa until her scalp tingled with rawness. the next morning, she dipped the hair brush into a bowl of kerosene oil, brushed Francie’s hari vigorously, braided it into braids so tight that the veins on Francie’s temples stuck out, instructed her to keep away from lighted gas jets and sent her off to school.

Chapter 20, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1943)

My Mom’s favorite book growing up, and now one of mine.

When an outside evil preys on the people she's charged to protect, will she sacrifice everything to keep them safe?

Members of the Fire-Sky tribe have disappeared without a trace, but no one takes notice except a young woman who turns up dead by suicide. Pueblo Police Sergeant Nicky Matthews is assigned to the case, but nothing adds up ... until the suicide becomes a murder to hide the trail of a killer connected to dozens of missing tribe members.

As Nicky delves deeper, she discovers a chilling threat that strikes at the very heart of what it means to be Fire-Sky: the missing were murdered because of their ancestry, and, in a vengeful twist, the killer ensures the spirits of those taken will wander forever, lost to their People.

With a hostile captain, interference by a politically powerful ex-lover, and a burgeoning relationship with an undercover agent investigating the murders, Nicky doesn't know who she can trust. And when those closest to her are put in jeopardy, Nicky must be willing to sacrifice everything to save the people she loves.

"Narrator Laura Jennings believably delivers the intonations of a number of Native American characters in this mystery...Overall, Jennings's reserved tone and low pitch give a note of solemnity and respect to a culture that has been historically marginalized." — AudioFile Magazine, Earphones Award winner

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Beautifully written with a riveting plot and a richly drawn, diverse cast of characters, Hearts of the Missing is the mesmerizing debut from 2017 Tony Hillerman Prize recipient Carol Potenza.

When a young woman linked to a list of missing Fire-Sky tribal members commits suicide, Pueblo Police Sergeant Nicky Matthews is assigned to the case. As the investigation unfolds, she uncovers a threat that strikes at the very heart of what it means to be a Fire-Sky Native: victims chosen and murdered because of their genetic makeup.

But these deaths are not just about a life taken. In a vengeful twist, the killer ensures the spirits of those targeted will wander forever, lost to their family, their People, and their ancestors. When those closest to Nicky are put in jeopardy, she must be willing to sacrifice everything―her career, her life, even her soul―to save the people she is sworn to protect.

“Potenza’s outstanding debut and series launch is sure to please fans of mysteries.... Nicky, a strong, nuanced lead, inhabits a world populated by well-developed supporting characters.” (Publishers Weekly, starred review)

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The Third Warrior was inspired by this true-life event from 2018.

I keep my cell phone by my bed and use it as an alarm to wake me up in the morning, set for 4:25 AM since I wrote before work. My husband gets up even earlier, so he’s already out in the den working on his computer. There are only two of us in the house. The bedroom’s dark, but the phone’s screen lights up when the alarm goes off. That morning, I faced away from the phone and had to roll over to hit the snooze button.

And she was there, standing by my bed. A girl with brown hair to above her shoulders, parted on one side, the other side caught up with a small ribbon, wearing a dress, and eating something from a paper bag she held in her hand. Just standing there in that bubble of light from my phone. I could’ve reached out and touched her. I remember thinking it was peanuts or popcorn she was eating and that I wasn’t afraid.

We both froze, her hand halfway to her mouth, eyes wide—I don’t think she expected me to see her. We stared at each other. Then I did something I regret. I touched the phone and turned the alarm off. And she was gone. I wish to this day that I’d said hi, what’s your name, and greeted her in some way.

I got up and walked down the hall to my husband, “Do you know how I’ve never seen a ghost? I did this morning.” And I told him what had happened. I told my friend at work when we walked to lunch that afternoon.

But that’s not the most astonishing part of this story. Because later that day, is when I realized who the little girl was.

At work that afternoon, after lunch, at my desk, I received a call from my dad. My mother was “actively dying.” She’d had a stroke years before and was in 24/7 care, but I had no notice that she was near passing. I went home. My husband and I made plans to drive to see her the next day, and I texted my friend what had happened and that I would be away.

She immediately texted me back. “Could that little girl you saw this morning be your mother visiting you one last time?”

I froze. It hadn’t crossed my mind until then. But I truly think that was her saying good-bye. Remember, I wasn’t afraid.

Although I add paranormal to my books, I’m not really a believer in ghosts, and one of my reasons is more my own logic. I think that if ghosts did exist, there would be more mothers wishing to stay on earth to watch over their children. That might sound odd, but if given the choice at death to remain with my kids or leave them, maybe never see them again, I might choose to stay, even if it meant forever. I’m sure fathers feel the same way.

If that little girl eating popcorn or peanuts by my bed was my mom coming to see me before she passed, then it was a true gift.

DID YOU KNOW that bee stings play a huge role in the plot of Sting of Lies (2023)? Well, not actually bee stings—no spoilers—but this is another example of fiction imitating science & life imitating art. It always makes me smile.

A South Korean scientist has developed a microneedle drug-injection delivery system based on the structure of bee stingers. The new technology is called Electrospun Web Microneedles (EW-MNs), which aren’t rigid and decrease irritation in treatments where patients require sustained medication.

EW-MNs are made using an electrospinning technique that fabricates microneedles with a fibrous web-like coating. This allows the fibers surrounding metal microneedle tips to act more like the barbed structure of a bee stinger.

The microneedles will then be attached across a patch and anchored securely into the skin with microbarbs to maintain prolonged contact for steady drug delivery.

And while I promised no spoilers, the title of the books probably gives away something. But there’s always MORE to the story. So read Sting of Lies. I think you’ll end up like Myrna and her little dog, too.

Get STING of LIES NOW!

DID YOU KNOW I dedicated Echo of Lies to my mom?

In 1951, when my mother told her father she wanted to get a college education, he told her no and that he wouldn’t support her. My mother went anyway, received a basketball scholarship, worked all three years, graduated in business education, and never looked back. I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for her. But her courage paved the way for women like me, my sisters, and my daughter (Highly overeducated with two Master’s, an MD, and two Ph.Ds).

At its heart, my mom’s courage is what Echo of Lies is about - women who overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles to forge their own path forward.

DID YOU KNOW Sting of Lies is the first book in a series that is NOT a “series” series? The next Lies series book, Echo ofLies, but it has only one character from Sting of Lies and is set in a different time (late 1940s). So what makes a mystery series a series? The same sleuth? Think Hercule Poirot (84 novels and shorts) or Inspector Gamache (19 and counting). Maybe a series has the same cast of characters except for those imported for the newest crime: e.g., Joe Pickett (25 books) or Joe Leaphorn (26+ books). Most books in these series are easily read as STANDALONES.

Or maybe a series has all the same characters, the crime is new, but the underlying personal stories continue from book to book, like Ruth Galloway and Nelson (15+ books and stories), or (excuse the ego), Nicky Matthews and Franco Martinez (3+ books), or Milly Smith and Luther Nikolai (3+ books). These books are better read in order because of the character conflicts that carry through. These are choices authors and readers make: Commit or Not Commit to a series.

Are you a mystery reader who comes back for the underlying conflict? Or are you more of a one-and-done?

DID YOU KNOW Hearts of the Missing (2018) was originally written as romantic suspense with chapters alternating between Nicky Matthews and Franco (Frank), my investigators and protagonists. My editor told me to use a single point of view - Nicky’s - and scrape out the romance. She said a single POV would tighten the mystery since the reader would only know what Nicky knew AND without the romance, more men would read it! I didn’t believe her until I listened to this podcast: How To Write Novels Men Want to Read. It’s an informative and eye-opening listen, but I still don’t understand about Rome.