Before diving into editing an article on the reproductive habits of emus, I needed an infusion of caffeine. When I met up with my friends Mary and Sophie at Hyperion for our various morning beverages, I had no idea the direction the morning would take.
While participating in one of our favorite pastimes, people-watching, we noticed an unusual number of people dressed in black. Mary, who always knows what’s going on around town, didn’t know of any big funerals happening that would explain what we were seeing.
I knew it wasn’t a funeral when I saw a woman walk by wearing a full-length, black, period dress with a puffy skirt. She fanned her face which was shaded by an elaborate hat trimmed with black flowers. “Is there some kind of reenactment this week?”
It wouldn’t be unusual for there to be a Civil War-era reenactment happening somewhere in the Fredericksburg region.
I turned to Mary, but she was looking at her phone, texting furiously. She was always the epitome of understated elegance, right down to her phone’s subtly gold-edged case.
“It’s better than a funeral!” she said.
“Gee, what could be better than a funeral?” asked Sophie.
Mary didn’t respond, reading whatever text she’d received.
“Earth to Mary,” I said waving my hand in front of her eyes. “What’s better than a funeral?”
She looked up, her brow creased. “That’s a weird thing to say, Liv.”
Sophie and I laughed.
“I didn’t say it. You did.”
Turns out it was better than a funeral.
“You’ll never believe this,” Sophie said. She turned her phone around to reveal a series of headlines, which all included Edgar Allan Poe’s name. “A letter was found from Poe’s brother Henry to a Wallace Jackson here in Fredericksburg. The letter references a collection of Poe’s poems that Henry included with the letter.” Her voice kept rising as she spoke. “Based on when Henry died, they believe the only collection he could have been referring to was Tamerlane!” She ended the statement with breathless excitement.
“And Tamerlane would be?” I asked.
Sophie seemed disappointed that neither Mary nor I were expressing the appropriate amount of excitement at the news.
“Tamerlane and Other Poems was Poe’s first published collection of poetry. He paid a friend to print copies of it for him in eighteen twenty-seven. Historians think there were around fifty copies printed. There are only twelve known to have survived.” Her voice rose again, “One sold a few years ago for more than six hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
Goosebumps rose on my arms. I had a bad feeling about the kind of people who would be drawn to our small city in search of Tamerlane. And since I’d started having prescient visions during hot flashes, my feelings were usually right.
Over Sophie’s shoulder I glimpsed a man across the street. Something about him was familiar, as if I’d seen him before. I shivered. Maybe I had seen him before – in a recent vision of a man dead on the ground.
Flashes of a Dying Hour: A Liv Wilde Mystery, Book 2
Genre: Traditional Mystery
Release: March 2025
Format: Print, Digital
Preorder Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop.org
What if menopause gave you a superpower?
Menopause unlocked a superpower Liv Wilde never knew she had – psychic visions during hot flashes. The flashes of insight, just like menopause, didn’t come with an instruction manual, so when she comes face-to-face with a man she recently saw dead in a vision, Liv grapples with whether or not to warn him about his future.
The mysterious stranger turns out to be one of the treasure hunters who have descended upon her once quiet town of Fredericksburg, Virginia in search of a rare copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s first poetry collection Tamerlane and Other Poems.
With help from her girlfriends, Liv joins the hunt for Tamerlane, trying to tap into her insights to stay one step ahead of a notorious treasure hunter known as The Falcon.
Amid visions of kidnapping and murder, Liv learns the hard lesson that not everyone wants to be saved from their fate.
About the author
Lynda Allen is the author of the Liv Wilde Mysteries in which menopause is a superpower! Since she had to put up with hot flashes every day, she figured she might as well make them useful.
Lynda proudly infuses her writing with her Jersey Girl sensibilities and aims to create stories imbued with heart and humor. She lives in Fredericksburg, VA, where her mysteries are set, with her husband, their cat, and the many incredible eagle friends who pay them frequent visits.
When she’s not writing about hot flash-induced psychic visions, she also writes poetry and is an artist.