Debra Goldstein

As writers we want to tell compelling stories to keep readers turning the pages. One way to do that is to use universal themes to connect emotionally. Whether your primary story is violently intense or adorably cozy, relatability is an important way to drive a reader’s psychological investment.  Family is one of those elements that […]

When I wrote my first book, I did so with a gun on my hip. I worked at the New York/Quebec border for ICE (although it wasn’t called that then). I routinely volunteered to work the least favorite shift: midnight to 8 a.m. because I could squeeze in some writing. We had what we called

I sometimes call myself an “accidental” mystery writer. I’m not an accidental writer, by any means; I’ve been telling stories since I could speak, and began writing them down shortly after. I have notebooks upon notebooks filled up with stories from my elementary and middle and high school days – stories written during class, when

Old homes have always fascinated me. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a hundred-year old farmhouse hearing stories about those who lived there long before our family. I remember looking at the towering maples in the yard, thinking of the people who planted them a century ago, and marveling at how different their lives

“If the police show up, make sure you’re holding the package.” The fellow CIA officer prepping me to meet a deep cover agent wasn’t trying to scare me, although he sure succeeded. No, he was simply being practical. I was expendable. The source wasn’t. Meeting a CIA source in a foreign country involved a head-spinning