June 2011 On Sale: June 1, 2011 Featuring: Hope McNeill; Max 304 pages ISBN: 042524119X EAN: 9780425241196 Paperback $16.00  Add to Wish List Fiction, Mystery Cozy Buy at Amazon.com A mystery not just for dog lovers A Pug’s Tale by Alison Pace There are pugs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art! In the many years that Hope McNeill has worked at the museum, this is the first time she’s been able to bring along her pug, Max. (Officially at least. Previously she’s had to smuggle him in inside her tote bag.) The occasion: a special “Pug Night” party in honor of a deep-pocketed donor. Max and his friends are having a ball stalking the hors d’oeuvres and getting rambunctious, and making Hope wonder if this is also the last time she gets to bring Max to the museum. But when a prized painting goes missing, the Met needs Hope’s–and Max’s–help. In her quest for the culprit, Hope searches for answers with an enigmatic detective, a larger-than-life society heiress, a lady with a shih tzu in a stroller, and her arguably intuitive canine. With luck, she’ll find some inspiration on her trips to Pug Hill before the investigation starts going downhill……

I’m addicted to writing books. Reading them, too. Writing and reading and true love and chocolate–life doesn’t get much better than that. Well, maybe watching The Princess Bride while munching crème donuts. When I was in grade school one of our assignments was to read a poem in front of the class. I couldn’t decide between Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman” and Shakespeare’s “Venus and Adonis” (I love horses). Why yes, I was an overachiever, why do you ask? I chose Alfred Noyes. The bell rang before I finished and no one moved. At that moment I decided I’d be an actress when I grew up. And I’d write a romance inspired by my favorite poem. I’ve achieved both goals, although THE LANDLORD’S BLACK-EYED DAUGHTER took longer (I played Nellie is South Pacific at age 19). First, I want everyone to know that THE LANDLORD’S BLACK-EYED DAUGHTER has a happy ending. And now…here’s an excerpt:   1 April, 1787   Elizabeth Wyndham gazed at her reflection in the mirror above her dressing table. Dispassionately, she scrutinized her ink-black hair, which fell in ringlets on either side of her face, not unlike a spaniel’s ears. A scowl caused her delicately arched brows…