Enid Carmichael here, eighty-one-year-old amateur sleuth, to tell you about my typical day and to catch you up on what’s going on with us Fog Ladies. We spunky seniors, plus unspunky, undersuspicious, overworked doctor-in-training Sarah, are now volunteering at a local San Francisco soup kitchen. You’re not going to believe it, but it wasn’t goody-two-shoes Frances Noonan who got us involved. It was holier-than-thou Harriet Flynn. She’s had a complete life transformation. You won’t recognize her. She went from not wanting anything to do with unsavory characters or morally questionable types to volunteering us for every project imaginable, the more downtrodden, the better. She even lectured me about the difficulty of maintaining good hygiene while homeless. Hmph. Anyway, we’re at that darn place almost every day. And boy, do they need our help. There’s a lot of chopping. Monotonous, mind-numbing chopping.

But something exciting finally happened. Someone got murdered. Boiled up in the giant soup pot all set to go for the California Big Pot Soup Competition. We didn’t even get to taste the soup. Double hmph. The police were there in no time, cuffing the perp. I think the police have the right man, but the other Fog Ladies, of course, do not believe he could have done it. They never do.

Well, there are plenty of other suspects. A jilted wife. An unhappy lover. A scorned business associate. An unpredictable man with a grudge. So many possibilities! I’ve met them all, and this time I am determined to be there when the killer is caught.

Alma Gordon ended up with the dead man’s dog. That thing is a menace. I intend to do something about him, as no one else seems capable of understanding the danger that dog poses.

I got the dead man’s fancy cappuccino machine. I’m enjoying every sip. So many choices: espresso, cappuccino, latte, Americano. Although I don’t know what that Americano button is for. Nothing my own drip coffee maker couldn’t do, I say. But the others. . . Ooh la la. I have to keep my new toy from Sarah, the stressed-out doctor, as she thinks I’m off coffee. What Sarah doesn’t know can’t hurt me. Ha! By the way, Sarah and her young man are having troubles. I see the writing on the wall for them. Something happened, and when something happens, it’s almost impossible to patch things up. I’m a bit of an expert in this.

Frances Noonan had a car crash. She said I was responsible, but you and I both know that’s not true. A person should be able to drive and carry on a conversation, plus help me adjust the sun visor at the same time, right? I don’t drive, but I bet even I could do that.

So, back to my typical day. Soup kitchen, soup kitchen, soup kitchen. That’s all there is. But the answer lies there. I’ll chop if I must, to stay in the loop. I hear things. People don’t expect it of someone my age, but you know I have good hearing. I’m the one who found the connection to the dead man’s past. I’m the one who knows about the blackmailer. I’m the one who knows everything.

We Fog Ladies say you can count on us like San Francisco early morning fog burning off by midday. I say you can count on me!

The Fog Ladies: In the Soup, A San Francisco Cozy Murder Mystery #3
Genre: Cozy
Release: October 2021
Purchase Link

The Fog Ladies are back, in the third installment of this endearing cozy murder mystery series.

“There was a man in the soup.” When the Fog Ladies volunteer at a San Francisco soup kitchen, these spunky elderly friends plus one overworked young doctor-in-training envision washing and chopping and serving. Not murder.

Now the soup kitchen is doomed, and the mysteries have just begun. Was the death rooted in a long-ago grudge? Can they save the soup kitchen? Will they find the killer? Could the Fog Ladies, too, end up “in the soup”?

About the author
Susan McCormick is an award-winning writer and doctor who lives in Seattle. She graduated from Smith College and George Washington University School of Medicine, with additional medical training in Washington, D.C. and San Francisco, where she lived in an elegant apartment building much like the one in the book. Susan served as a doctor in the U.S. Army for nine years before moving to the Pacific Northwest and civilian practice. In addition to The Fog Ladies series, she also wrote Granny Can’t Remember Me, a lighthearted picture book about Alzheimer’s disease and dementia, and The Antidote, a timely middle grade and up medical/STEM fantasy. She lives in Seattle with her husband and two sons. She loves giant dogs and has loved an English mastiff, Earl, and two Newfoundlands, Edward and Albert.

All comments are welcomed.