Monday, 13 August 2018


Will Gina make it to the altar finally?
Book 6 in The Goddaughter series 
Orca Books
(What...there might be mob in Vegas?)

Sunday, 29 July 2018


Back by popular request (okay, for the seriously twisted person who missed it first time round and asked me to post it again)
OATLANDER – Why I can never write a book straight

It happened again.  One little letter got switched around, and those little writer demons in my head let loose.

It started with a quote from an industry reviewer, regarding my time travel series starting with Rowena Through the Wall.  I was trying to quote:  “OUTLANDER meets SEX AND THE CITY.”
Nice way to describe Rowena et al.  I’m very grateful to him.  But of course, I messed up the spelling of Outlander.

So here’s a sneak preview of my next book:


Claire (okay, lets change that to Flaire) falls through time and lands in virtually the same country she did in that other book.  The country that thinks using animal bladders for instruments is a really neat idea.

“What the heck,” says Flaire, looking around at all the sheep.  “This isn’t Kansas.”

“Ach no,” says ruggedly handsome and unmarried oat farmer, who might possibly be named Jamie (okay, let’s change that to –heck, nothing rhymes.  Tamie?  Bamie?  Okay, Balmy.  “And why are you wearing just your slip, lass?”

Flaire (looking down): “Blast. So’s I am.  Well, fuck a duck.”

Balmy:  “Canna no dae that, lass. Only sheep here.”

<We travel further along in the story, to the battle of Culloden, where Balmy and the local rebels exchange words.>

Leader of Rebels:  “Today  will go down in history, lads!  Grab yer spikes and pitch forks!  We go to spill English blood!”

Balmy: “Not on me oat field, ye don’t.”


Flaire, watching everyone trip over sheep.  “This isn’t going to end well.”

Balmy:  “Back to Kansas, Lass?”

Flaire:  “Sure.  No oats though. We’d have to call this…Cornlander.

Balmy <scratching chin>:  “But that would be-“

Flaire:  “Corny?”

Sunday, 15 July 2018

The Trouble with Mages

For those who loved Rowena: this is a plot line I played with for book 3 of the trilogy, but determined it strayed too far into erotica for the Land's End Trilogy. Now available as a short single.
Click Here

Thursday, 28 June 2018


This week, I'm honoured to be featured on the ELLERY QUEEN MYSTERY MAGAZINE BLOG!

Here's a teaser:

“Things that Drive Crime Writers CRAZY” (by Melodie Campbell)

Last week, all three of Dell Magazines’ mystery fiction editors—Linda Landrigan, editor-in-chief of AHMM, Jackie Sherbow, associate editor of EQMM and AHMM, and I—were interviewed on SleuthSayers, a blog by and for “professional crime writers and crime fighters.” In exchange for our interviews, a call went out to regular SleuthSayers contributors to blog for our sites. EQMM was delighted to receive this post from Melodie Campbell (known on SleuthSayers as Bad Girl). Called the “Queen of Comedy” by the Toronto Sun, the Canadian author has won nearly a dozen crime-fiction awards, including the Derringer and the Arthur Ellis. She is the past Executive Director of Crime Writers of Canada and the author of a number of highly regarded crime novels. Her short fiction has appeared in AHMM and other publications; EQMM readers will have seen stellar reviews of her Goddaughter series in The Jury Box.—Janet Hutchings
I’m a crime writer.  Hell, I’ll put on my other hat (the one with the pointy top) and say it.  I got my start writing comedy. Standup and newspaper columns, with the odd (very odd) greeting card thrown in.

I have a certain amount of legitimacy, in that The Toronto Sun called me “Canada’s Queen of Comedy.” Apparently, someone on staff there likes “wild and loopy.” Which may call into question their sanity as much as mine, but I digress.

I now write comic capers (the Goddaughter series). This is because I made the biggest mistake ever made by a person not legally insane.

Way back when we all had pet dinosaurs, one of my plays was performed in Toronto (Burglar for Coffee.) It may have been a bit zany. A television producer happened to be in the audience. After the show, he came up to me and said, “You are completely nuts. How would you like to write pilots for me? You’ll need to move to California.”

I had two toddlers at the time. And I’m Canadian. No way could I see how I could move to California. So I said no. Besides. It was 1993. Who had ever heard of HBO?

As I said, the biggest mistake ever made by someone not legally insane.

So I turned to a life of crime. Okay, writing crime capers. I come by that legitimately, but that’s another blog post. (How to Write Mob Comedies Without Getting Taken Out by The Family. And you thought I was kidding. . . .)

Which brings me to the point of this blog: suspension of disbelief.  I’m willing to admit that as an audience, we might agree to “suspend belief” for a little while. As a writer, I do it regularly. As a reader and viewer, I delight when someone takes me into another world.

But enough is enough. Crime fiction and television, you go too far. CSI Hoboken, or wherever you are, take note. Here are some things that drive otherwise fairly normal crime writers (oxymoron alert) crazy:
  1. Crime scene people in high heels and raw cleavage.


Sunday, 17 June 2018

B-Team in great company

Hot Damn! One of the coolest things for a writer is being next on the shelf to your very favourite author: in my case, Andrea Camilleri (Montalbano). Thanks to a reader for sending this in! (Indigo/Chapters, Burlington)

Monday, 11 June 2018

Warning: Political humour: The Independent State of Penetang

Warning: Like most comedians, I'm an equal opportunity humorist.  Left or Right, it's all fodder.  Today, it's the Liberal Feds.  
Next, I'm just waiting to see what Doug Ford will inspire...

09:36, Parliament Building East Wing

“This is weird,” said Mark, flipping through screens.


“It says here that Penetang has declared independence.”

The other civil service head looked up. “Where is that? In Africa?”

“Somewhere north of Orillia, I think. Or maybe Parry Sound.  I’m looking it up.”

The older man frowned. “You mean the county of Penetang?”

“Seems like it. They’ve blocked the roads, it says here.  Just a sec.” 
He scrowled further.  “They’re using tractors and farm equipment.  And cows.”

A gasp.  “They’re sacrificing cows?”

“Nope. Herding live ones.  The cars can’t get by.”

“Merde. We need to inform the Prime Minister.”

11:00, Live from Penetang

“This is Mandy Flambeau, reporting from rebellion headquarters, at the Puckyew community hockey rink in downtown Penetang.  It’s sort of quiet here, Len.  Maybe they’re all out on the protest lines?  Oh wait – I see somebody! Sir, sir…over here.  Can you tell us what this rebellion is really about?”

“Taxes.  Sick an’ tired of those federal freeloaders takin’ our taxes and spending them in the city. We want our money spent here.  Not on subways and free daycare for city folk.”

Gasp.  “Daycare?  You’re against daycare?”

“You see any kids around here? No young people in Penetang anymore.  No jobs for them.  Only seniors now.

“You want free daycare for seniors?”

13:43,  The Prime Minister’s office.

“Mr. Prime Minister, we have a situation.”

<groan> “Not another Tweet from the Twit.”

“This is local, sir.  I need to brief you on the rebellion in Penetang.  PETA have moved in. Because of the cows.”

“Say what?”

“The rebels in Penatang have blocked the roads with cows.  And now PETA has established protest lines to protect the animals.”

“Hmmm… Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Sir, I think we have an opportunity here.”

“A photo op?  Oh goodie!  What do they wear in Penetang?”

“Uh…overalls and flannel shirts?”

“Awesome.  Get Holt Renfrew on the line.  We want these Canadian made.”

“Yes sir.  Will you be leaving immediately?”

“I’m texting Sophie and the kids.  Maybe we can make a vacation out of it.  Does the Aga have a place up there?”

14:00, Back at East Wing:

“Mark, are you from farm country?”

“Nope. Born and bred here in Ottawa.”

“We may be overacting.  Maybe this won't be such a crisis. The cows.”

“What about them?”

“They’ll simply go home to be milked at five.”

to be continued, unless someone pays the writer to stop...