Please help me welcome today’s guest, M.S. Spencer…
The Red Hat Society is, yes, a real organization. Inspired by the gift of a red hat to Sue Ellen Cooper in Fullerton, California in 1997, it grew to 40,000 chapters by 2003. Its founding motto comes from Jenny Joseph’s poem “Warning”: When I am old I shall wear a purple dress and a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me. According to their website: “The Red Hat Society is our own women’s movement, of sorts – placing a strong emphasis on the positive aspects of life. We stress the importance of friendship and sisterhood, and the value of recess (play) into our busy lives.” It is primarily for women over 50.
The Red Hats of Penhallow diverge slightly from the norm. In the words of the heroine Zoe Thibodeau, they are “consummate conspiracy theorists, especially when in their cups. They do good works and get soused on a regular basis. I believe it’s in their bylaws.”
Edna Mae Quimby, the wife of the county sheriff and president of the Penhallow chapter of the Red Hat Society, is a force of nature. Penhallow residents had long ago given up resisting her when she’s on a mission. We see her in action in the excerpt below.
Blurb
At midnight on a deserted island, Gunnar Nordstrom, assistant secretary of the Interior, falls from the sky, to be ripped to shreds by the blades of a wind turbine. Was it murder or a dreadful accident?
Sebastian Guthrie—the lone witness—is rushed into the witness protection program, but is it for his safety or that of someone else?
Nordstrom was about to approve an offshore wind farm in Maine, a project opposed by all but a handful of people. Sebastian finds an ally in Zoe Thibodeau, and together they sort through a Gordion knot of dead ends, red herrings, murders, and suspects. Is it all to do with the wind farm, or is there a much darker secret buried under the trail of corpses?
Excerpt:
Edna Mae
Yapp ostentatiously opened a file on his desk. “Thank you for your input. I’ll note it in the file.” Without looking up, he said, “You can see yourselves out.”
Edna Mae—who had been suspiciously quiet during the conversation—squeaked, “How can you dismiss murder so easily?”
Yapp’s eyes widened. “Murder?”
Bobby said quickly, “Edna Mae, I have to get back to Amity. Come along.” He hustled her out of the office.
They had arrived at the front entrance when they heard yelling from outside. Zoe recognized the harsh tones. “That’s Mr. Copley.”
Bobby said dauntingly, “And he’s butting heads with Larry Boudreau. Great.” He pointed through the glass door.
Copley was yelling, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Get out of my face, Boudreau.”
Larry—his expression fierce—flailed his arms. “You killed my baby brother. And you killed that woman too. What did you do with her, anyway?”
Copley flushed. “I killed no one, you buffoon. You’re strait-jacket material, you are.”
“You’ll do anything to get the contract.” Larry looked suddenly cagey. “Maybe you killed the boss man too.”
Copley shoved him aside. “I don’t need to listen to any of this.” He pushed the door open and rushed past the three friends, standing with their mouths open.
Larry called after him. “What did you do with the lady, Copley? Where’d you take her? Huh? Huh?”
He was still baying at Copley’s retreating back when Zoe approached. She touched Larry’s shoulder. “Larry? What makes you think Mr. Copley murdered those people?”
He pivoted. “Who are you?”
“I’m Zoe Thibodeau. This is Bobby B. Goode and Edna Mae Quimby. We were meeting with Mr. Yapp.”
He gave Edna Mae an unconsciously rude once-over. “I know you. You’re the sheriff’s wife.”
This seemed to disconcert Edna Mae. She blubbered, “Why yes. How did—”
Larry spat. “You’re wasting your time with Yapp. Bureaucrat. He only knows one thing—how to cover his heinie.”
Zoe repeated her question patiently. “Why did you accuse Mr. Copley of murder?”
Larry looked at her like she was an idiot. “He’s a capitalist, isn’t he? They’re all murderers.”
Bobby nudged Zoe. “Let’s go.”
They were in the car before Edna Mae spoke. “I will have much to report to the sheriff.”
Zoe gaped at her. “What are you talking about? We got nothing from Yapp, and Larry is obviously non compos mentis. This trip was a compete bust.”
Edna Mae said comfortably, “Nonetheless. Mr. Yapp is hiding something, and Larry knows more than he thinks he knows.”
“Oh really? What, pray tell?” The old lady’s complacency was beginning to fray Zoe’s nerves.
“Didn’t you hear what he asked that developer?”
“He made some screwy accusation about murder.”
“He asked him what he did with the body.”
“So?”
“He didn’t ask that about the others. Larry’s brother was found crushed by a whale, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And the first fellow fell out of a plane.”
“A drone, but yes.”
“According to Tobias, Mr. Higgins found Luanne’s body in the yacht. Larry didn’t mention a boat. He obviously doesn’t know where she was found. So how did he know she was murdered?”
Books2Read: https://books2read.com/FairWindandFoulPlay
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Fair-Winds-Foul-Play-Landing-ebook/dp/B0GX35YY4X
Barnes&Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fair-winds-and-foul-play-m-s-spencer/1150931840
The Wild Rose Press: https://shop.app/products/9410606498010/fair-winds-and-foul-play-an-amity-landing-mystery
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/fair-winds-and-foul-play-an-amity-landing-mystery/id6796015195
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=Sj_7EQAAQBAJ
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/256083391-fair-winds-and-foul-play
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/fair-winds-and-foul-play-an-amity-landing-mystery-by-m-s-spencer
About the Author
Award-winning, multi-published author M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. She has worked as a librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, and nonprofit director. In September, 2026 she will have published nineteen romantic suspense and mystery novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
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