I thought I’d share my modified recipe for this darkly delicious cocktail prior to cottage season, now that I’ve done some booze fiddling. Try this out at home, perfect for stormy evenings on the covered porch, or reading in bed. Enjoy!

Black Orchid Martini

1 oz. blue curacao

1 oz. Kraken rum

1 oz. lemon-lime soda

1 oz grenadine and a splash of cranberry juice

This week, we have a question for the crew from Rafe B., known to his friends as He Who Wields the Red Pen, known to the crew as That Guy Who Tweaks My Words, known to the author as Bossyboots McMeaniepants (which, despite some doofus’s opinion, is in fact an awesome nickname–SO THERE, JUSTIN. No, YOU’RE still mad about it.).

Rafe B. asks: Lord Droopypants, how do you go about choosing your companions? Were they all foul-mouthed harlots like Marnie?

Marnie: Lord Droopypants. *pokes Harry* That’s you, pal.

Lord Guy Harrick Dreppenstedt: Since this ill-conceived journal was billed as an advice column, one can only assume you wish to consider my methods of companion choice in order to more successfully model the behaviour of my current DaySitter and win my favour. Perhaps you have dreams of replacing her; if this is the case, you should set aside the dumbbells and derision and cultivate a far more elegant and gracious manner.

Marnie: Ohhhhh, snap. Rafe’s gonna edit out some of your gobbledegook for that, Harry. Wait–did you just imply I’m elegant and gracious?

Lord Guy Harrick Dreppenstedt: Do try not to be ridiculous, Dearheart. To further answer your question, my brawny friend, when it was time to consider a replacement for my beloved Violet, she asked me to consider someone from her family, and members of both the Santonen and Baranuik family were placed on the short list. One member stood out from the others based chiefly upon her ability to surprise me into laughter, though she did also present an opportunity to work my magic on an improvement project.

Marnie: From “elegant and gracious” to “improvement project” in the space of a minute. So proud.

Lord Guy Harrick Dreppenstedt: As for my future DaySitters, I cannot even fathom a replacement, for despite her many glaring faults–

Marnie: Must you be a twatwaffle?

Lord Guy Harrick Dreppenstedt: *cough* *eyebrow* She is still my only One, the gas in my lantern, the feathers in my pillow, the fly in my vichyssoise, the mercury in my felt hat–

Marnie: Mercury drove hatters mad.

Lord Guy Harrick Dreppenstedt: Quite so, my pet. *smirk* Monsieur McMeaniepants, I do hope today’s issue has been concluded to your satisfaction.

Tune in next week for more bad advice from Marnie and the crew! In the meantime, I’ll just wait here guarding the wine, shall I?

My friend Teresa challenged me to list 7 things about myself that nobody knows. since i’m a giant blabbermouth on social media, I’m not sure that’s possible, but I’ll give it a shot.

1. I like goats so much. I want one. I have no place to put a goat, but I love them. At a petting zoo, they’re really the only animal I want to see. Baby goats are SO ADORABLE.

2. I dig funk and reggae. If you sneak up on me at 4 AM in my kitchen while I’m wearing headphones and waiting for the kettle to boil, chances are that bumping and grinding I’m doing is to funk. You could place bets on Kool & the Gang.

3. I can belly dance. I won’t belly dance for you if you ask, but I can. I have zero exhibitionist in me. I’m no Rachel Brice, but I’ve had two years of lessons (five years back), and am considering going back because it’s incredible exercise for your core. I can comfortably belly dance in front of the ladies in my class because we’re all learning and there’s no judgement.

<note: I can NOT do this>

4. I’ve been practicing yoga for about fifteen years. I stopped for a while, and can’t restart until I heal up from surgery, but I’m longing to get back into it, especially now when I feel my flexibility is so compromised.

5. I dislike fighting, and I let people win arguments even when I know they’re wrong. I’m absolutely capable of giving up and letting someone be wrong. I don’t need them to know they’re wrong. It doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, sometimes I prefer it.

6. I get my best ideas for writing while I’m in the shower or on long drives with great music on the radio. Ideas that don’t stick with me, I let go. The good ones will be the ones that nag me, that demand my attention when I’m daydreaming, the ones that I enjoy fantasizing about. Those ones make their way into books.

7. I had a stalker once whom I nicknamed Hockey News Guy. It ended rather quickly because I turned out to be much more obsessive about it than he was, and I stalked him better than he stalked me.

Season 15 Episode 14 of CSI (you know, the original one out in Vegas) used a copy of my second book, Death Rejoices, as part of its set. I knew this was a possibility as my publisher, Booktrope, supplied them with some paperbacks from their listings, including two of my books. The episode in question involves a swap meet for fans of Murderabilia, memorabilia pertaining to famous killers. Just before my book is shown (as something created by a famous killer–makes sense, considering the title), Ted Danson’s character says something to the effect of “Where do they get all this crap?” Aaaaand pan to my book! I have never been so happy. If you hear sarcasm there, take it right out of your ear holes, because I am LITERALLY so thrilled with having CSI call me a famous killer and I totally understand why the fictional cop would call a book written by a murderer “crap,” so I’m willing to overlook it. Sam From Cheers: Silver Edition doesn’t mean my book is crap. My book is perfectly lovely. This does, however, lead to some fun conversations with my husband, whom regular readers will know as The Viking.

Me: I’m still very happy that CSI called me a killer.

Viking: *sigh* I know. I HAVE met you.

Me: Won’t it make a great tidbit of trivia someday? Three years before she was arrested and police found eighteen bodies in her barn, CSI actually called her a murderer? WEIRD AND WILD COINCIDENCE!

Viking: Uh huh.

Me: Will you come visit me in prison?

Viking: No. I want a divorce.

Me: Why? So you can marry your fancy non-murdering girlfriend? I’ll never allow that.

Viking: Fine, I’ll just live with her.

Me: IN SIN??

Viking: What about YOUR sins?

Me: Serial killer judges you.