Category Archives: Books by Kate McGinn

#BlackFriday and #CyberMonday Kindle Ebook Deal On Winter’s Icy Caress

IMG_2026

The holiday season is beginning, and a new threat to the citizens of Bayfield is discovered as young women go missing. Clare assists in the search for the most recent woman and finds she has become a target.

The winters are harsh near Lake Superior… And somewhere in Bayfield, there is a person with a soul colder and more brutal than any winter day in Northern Wisconsin. A fact Clare will discover for herself.

#FreebieFriday Special on Exodus!

In honor of Veteran’s Day, I’m offering the first book in the Clare Thibodeaux series free Friday, November 9th through Sunday, November 11th!


I am so honored to come from a family of veterans including my father, my father-in-law, my husband, my youngest son and his wife, my brother-in-law, uncles, cousins, and a niece. I was also privileged to serve my country in the Army Reserve for 8 years.

If you haven’t had a chance to read the Clare Thibodeaux Series, here is your opportunity to check it out for free.  Go to my Amazon author page for this limited time offer.

Then, watch my blog for more deals in the near future.

Thanks for reading!  ~~ Kate

Never Show Your Hand is Available!

I know, I know. It has been a year and a half since Winter’s Icy Caress was published, but the good news is (Drum Roll, followed by Pregnant Pause)… Never Show Your Hand (Clare Thibodeaux Series, Book 3) is available to purchase on Amazon!!!!

I also updated the covers of all three books to celebrate!! Exodus is a variation on the original cover which was done in a watercolor painting effect. For Winter’s Icy Caress, I wanted a dramatic cover which reflected the eerie suspense of the story.

IMG_0849 1

I hope you like the new covers!

Stay tuned for special pricing on all three books in the coming weeks!

Interesting Fun Fact! The Jeep pictured on the new cover of Exodus is actually MY Jeep!

IMG_0800IMG_8780

Miss Lydia and the Magnolia County Bake-Off Debacle

Miss Lydia watched the woman running down her sidewalk from her kitchen window. If Miss Lydia remembered correctly Clarice was quite the track star in her days at Sinippi Cove High. In fact, Miss Lydia was certain the other woman had run all the way from the library where the fleet-of-foot Ms. Travers worked part-time. A frantic tapping increased in strength until it reached the level of a pounding knock before the octogenarian ambled to the back door. Miss Lydia could have arrived faster, but she liked to frustrate her younger neighbor.

As soon as she started to open her kitchen door, Clarice appeared body part by body part sliding in with the skill of a spelunker through the crevice in a cave. Her friend had a serious case of head-sweating as evidenced by her wet locks and the sodden collar of her dress. Miss Lydia handed her a dish towel which the librarian accepted with a nod mopping with unprecedented enthusiasm at her damp face and neck. It took her guest a few moments to slow her panting enough to speak.

“You will never guess what I just heard at the library,” Clarice crowed throwing the dish towel down on the counter for emphasis.

“No, I don’t suppose I will guess the news. Since I’m in my 80’s and my days are numbered why don’t you tell me, Clarice,” Miss Lydia stated with a wry tone. Unfortunately, her sarcasm was lost on her young friend.

“Well…” Clarice provided a long pause to build suspense (too bad it only built irritation), “You wouldn’t believe who walked into the library this morning.” Feeling another pause in the ready, Miss Lydia made a repetitive circular movement with her hand to get her friend to hurry up.

“Spit it out, Clarice,” Miss Lydia said, her words staccato and harsher than her usual clipped manner of speech.

“Enid Floss,” Clarice whispered the words. The whites of her eyes were clearly visible around her irises.

Miss Lydia opened her mouth slightly with shock for a fraction of a second before snapping it shut hard enough for her dentures to clack together. Miss Lydia never wanted to appear shocked in front of others.

“What did she want?” the older miss hissed like a snake as she uttered the pronoun representing her arch nemesis — the Jezebel of Sinippi Cove.

Trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, Clarice divulged the ultimate betrayal, “Enid Floss is entering the Magnolia County Bake-Off. And if that isn’t enough, she is planning on baking Snickerdoodles.”

Miss Lydia’s signature cookie. She gently tapped her closed lips with the index finger of her right hand as she ruminated on this debacle. Enid was her best friend until they reached the age of seventeen. Miss Lydia had met a nice, young man and had fallen in love. His name was Roy Floss. The rest of the story would have to wait. Let’s just say — although 69 years had passed — Miss Lydia never forgave Enid. Pushing Clarice out the door didn’t prove too difficult, she knew when it was time to leave Miss Lydia be.

It took all of three days and dozens upon dozens of batches of Snickerdoodles before Miss Lydia was satisfied she had the winning entry for the Magnolia County Bake-Off. The day of the big event Miss Lydia dressed in her best church clothes, submitted her entry, and walked past Enid Floss with a triumphant smile. Later, as Miss Lydia accepted the Blue Ribbon for her Caramel Chai Snickerdoodle cookies, she felt like a champion. (On a side note — Enid didn’t even receive an honorable mention for her Snickerdoodles.)


Never Show Your Hand Progress Update

Writing a book can be crazy, but writing a series can be nightmarish at times.  Even though I have notes from each book about characters and plot development, invariably there is some item I’ve forgotten to document.  I started writing Exodus in 2015 and now three years later, I’m scratching my head over a little detail knowing I’m going to have to go back and look it up.  Aaaarrrgghhh!!

On the next book, I will try harder to provide a bit more detail in my chapter summaries and notes.

Oh well, here’s the update on the status of NSYH — 39,000 words IMG_8055thus far and working on Chapter Twenty-Seven at present. The action is starting to fire up and the story threads will begin to emerge to show the big picture. This book will unveil the truth behind the other books and the sometimes incomprehensible actions of the main characters. It will also lay the stage for some potential future stories about some new characters, but only time will tell where the writing muse takes me.

In my future projects file are three stories — the compilation and expansion of my “Natalie Parker” short stories; a novel about a widow who discovers love again in Empty Chairs, Empty Promises; and another short story I’m planning on expanding about the most unlikely assassin.

So hang in there, friends, the next Clare Thibodeaux book will be nearing completion sometime in the near future.

Keep reading!   ~ Kate

Writing Update: I’m currently working on Chapter Twenty-One of20170720_184616385_iOS Never Show Your Hand (Clare Thibodeaux Series Book 3).  Jealousy, mystery and hints at secrets being revealed while Shanaya Cadotte and CIA Agent Bobbi Keating keep digging to find out who is behind the uptick in criminal activities surrounding the casino. How is Clare involved in all of this? I guess you will have to read the book to find out!!

I love mysteries, don’t you?

Mock up of cover for Clare Thibodeaux Series Book 3 — a current work in progress

Natalie Parker’s Views on Loving — excerpt from Not Mama’s Little Girl, Anymore!

The following excerpt is from one of my WIP (Works in Progress) — Not Mama’s Little Girl, Anymore! The main character, Natalie, is describing how she approaches love.


The easiest way to describe my point of view about love is that I’m the human version of a Labrador Retriever. I love to eat, play hard, and have a need to get down and dirty in the mud. When I love someone, I live for the time when I’ll see them again, when I’ll hear their voice, and when I can cuddle up beside them–or better yet—sit on their lap. My big soulful eyes reflect your pain or sparkle with your happiness. My heart belongs to only one.

I’m different than the French poodle type of gal. She primps and postures for the masses looking for her next trophy. She’s all curly hair and pink bows but her facade is only window dressing and a bit of mud will destroy the illusion.

(This is not a put-down of poodles of any kind or the French. I love them both, but an analogy of how different women can be from their counterparts.)