Romaine Wilder first appeared in Secrets, Lies, & Crawfish Pies and one of the best ways to learn about a person is by asking questions, so let’s get to know Romaine.

Death is my legacy. Oh yeah, I’ve been surrounded by it nearly my entire life.

I grew up in a funeral home—the back of the house and the upstairs used for living quarters—the front for the dearly departed. And when it came time to pick my profession, I chose to be a medical examiner. Heck, I had even been christened by the Holy Roman Church in it by way of my name. Roughly translated, my name, Romaine Gabriela Sadie Heloise Wilder, meant “Dead Family Name – Dead Aunt – Dead Grandma – Dead Grandma – Wilder. And I was even the last of those.

Born mixed-raced French Creole in New Orleans, my mother’s family moved to Texas in the early 50s. That’s where my mother met my father, a down-home, guitar playing, blues singer and it wasn’t long before baby made three. What I remember about my early years was that our house was always filled with love and music—until it wasn’t. At twelve both my parents were killed in a car accident and I went to East Texas to live with my mother’s older sister, Auntie Zanne. In my opinion, “Zanne” should be short for “zany,” because she was from the bottom of her five-foot-three frame to the top of her oversized, bouffant-styled white hair.

Suzanne Arelia Sophia Babet, Auntie Zanne to me, Babet to everyone else, was a force to be reckoned with, but even she couldn’t stop this French speaking, uppity black girl who decided that small town living wasn’t for her. All I’d ever wanted to do was get away to the big city. So, with medical degree in hand, I left Texas and headed to Chicago. It wasn’t long though, before an economic down-drift forced me out of a job and a broken heart forced me packing. Tail tucked between my legs, I headed back home. And here’s the kicker, being back wasn’t as bad as I had always made it out to be. Well, except for the murders. The first day I got back, before I could even get in the house out of the rain, a dead body turned up at the funeral home that hadn’t had a previous reservation. It was murder, and that was just the start of it.

I’m not as social as my eighty-something old mortician auntie, or as overbearing. I don’t belong to a heap of auxiliaries and clubs like she does, and while she runs a Voodoo herbalist shop out of her kitchen and I prefer getting my meds from the local drugstore, we’re turning out to being two peas in a pod. Even with dead bodies popping up all over the place, I’m feeling more alive than I ever have.

Music is back in my life –playing the piano, fiddle and violin, instead of just hanging out at blues clubs. I’m running the new medical examiner’s facility in town, and I think I may have even found a man that doesn’t already have a wife (um . . . yeah . . . let’s not talk about that!) But best of all, my Auntie, the pushy, brew-concocting, intrusive, Voodoo Most High Mambo is beginning to rack up to be an excellent sleuthing partner. (That is when she isn’t trying to fill me up with a potion to make me get married!)

I’ve been thinking about writing a book about the crime-solving, whodunnit adventures of Dr. Romaine Wilder down here in the Piney Woods of Roble, Texas. I think it’ll be a hoot. So stay tuned and learn all about my Auntie Zanne, and her never-ending shenanigans. I might even spill the beans about my crazy love life, and you don’t want to miss hearing about the newly elected sheriff in town, my cousin Pogue Folsom, who doesn’t have a clue how to handle a murder or my antie!

You can read about Romaine in Love, Hopes, & Marriage Tropes, the second book in the “Romaine Wilder” mystery series.

A wedding and a murder. . .Star football player and NFL hopeful, Michael “Bumper” Hackett is getting married. Word’s going around that it’s a shotgun wedding, and there just might be some truth to it, seeing that the bride-to-be is showing a baby bump. But before the ceremony can even get started, the poor groom collapses from what appears to be an asthma attack. Unfortunately, things aren’t always what they seem.

Romaine knew it was a bad idea to have a wedding at the funeral home, but newly elected justice of the peace and sole proprietor of the Ball Funeral Home & Crematorium, her Auntie Zanne, thought it was a perfect way to advertise her business. Instead, it’s another murder that’s been dropped on her doorstep. That can’t be good for business!

Add to that, Romaine’s beau from up north shows up out of the blue and has her hoping for her chance at happily ever after and escaping her tiny hometown of Roble. First, though, a murder has to be solved and Romaine pairs up with her Auntie Zanne (against the direct order of Romaine’s first cousin, Sheriff Pogue Folsom), and aims to catch the killer before the Friday Night Lights go on.

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About the author
Wall Street Journal bestselling author, Abby L. Vandiver has always loved to write, combining that with her gift for telling stories, and mystery she became an author. Writing cozy mysteries, she has written as an indie author and traditionally published. All of her books have been Amazon #1 bestsellers.

Abby has a bachelors in Economics, a master’s in Public Administration and a Juris Doctor. She resides in Cleveland, Ohio and enjoys spending time with her grandchildren.

All comments are welcomed.