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Chautona Havig

Chautona Havig

Using story to connect YOU to the Master Storyteller

Yeah, I’m Guilty! Wouldn’t You Be Crazy Excited, Too?

by Chautona Havig · 1 Comment

To celebrate the release of Liz Tolsma's Slashed Canvas, the authors were interrogated in an attempt to discover who stole the painting. Shhh... I did. via @chautonahavig
steal the painting
old golden frame. beautiful vintage background

I’d been told the drive from Paris to Lyon would take about five hours.  I made it in just over four.  Driving in the middle of the night didn’t hurt. There was such a delicate balance between whizzing through the country as fast as I could get away from the Louvre and being so reckless that I risked damaging my contraband.  I mean, what’s the point of stealing a painting worth hundreds of thousands of euros only to destroy it with recklessness.

Oh, yes. I stole the painting, and I had to get out of Paris before the gendarmes got me.

slashed canvas stole the painting

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Yeah, I’m Guilty! Wouldn’t You Be Crazy Excited, Too?

Let’s go back a bit. As far as the other authors were concerned, I was home taking care of my mom and unable to visit Paris for the big celebration of Liz’s book, Slashed Canvas. For the record, it’s all true.  I couldn’t go at first, which was awful, because I had huge plans for while I was there. I wanted to steal a painting–any painting.  But then Mom got sick, and I couldn’t go. I’d made all these really elaborate and crazy, hard-to-pull-off plans, for what?  Nothing.  So sad.

Then, at the last minute, my sister says, “Hey! They found termites in the building. I’ll be off for a week.  I want to come see Mom.”

I was like, “Bring it on!” And I booked my ticket.

This was even better. No one thought I’d be there.  And I wasn’t telling a soul.

I arrived just after midnight and snagged a taxi after the hassle at customs.  Seriously, you’d think tons of latex gloves and masks were suspicious in today’s climate!  Or maybe it was the rope and the carabiners…  Anyway, I finally dashed out of the airport and hailed a taxi. “Rue de Richelieu.”

“Hotel, madame?”

“Oui.”  I tried not to make it sound like “we” but come on. I don’t do French. Spanish is more my speed, comprende?

“Which one?” The guy sounded like Poirot to me, but Poirot would have kittens over that thought. I’m sure of it.

“Louvre Piemont.”

Maybe I was wearing my, “Correct my pronunciation, I love French words that make no sense” T-shirt or something because he told me how to say it… more like “pee-eh moan.”  Seriously, as late as it was and tired as I was, it sounded like a bladder infection if you ask me.

The hotel clerk who checked me in looked just a smidge sleepy, but not too bad.  “Welcome to Paris, Ms. Williamson.”

Step one, complete. Not trusting my use of phones (I don’t like the things) I asked to be awakened at eight o’clock sharp.  The woman assured me that she would.

That’s the last thing I remember before the blare of my phone and the room phone conspired to shoot me into outer space.

Showtime!

Look, if I went through the entire process of getting into the Louvre wearing another woman’s nametag clipped to my very tacky yoga pants and super-baggy shirt, swiping her key card, getting to the security room to see where the cameras were least well-directed, and finally picking the perfect painting… okay, the fact that it was probably the one Liz Tolsma couldn’t stop raving over didn’t hurt.  I’ll admit it.

Anyway, telling you all about that… tedious.  Suffice it to say, I managed to get that painting out of there by walking out the front door.  Ever seen National Treasure?  Just like that.  After I rolled up the canvas (no, I did not crack the oils), I slipped it inside a poster of one of Rembrandt’s paintings (Philosopher Reading), and paid cash for the thing.  Cash, Cage.  You bring cash to these kinds of things.  Euros, in this instance.

For the record, I chose that one because it was one of the biggest ones available in the gift shop and because it was the most fully-stocked of the big ones.  I figured this meant the people working at the counter didn’t handle them as much, so maybe they wouldn’t notice that it was a bit heavier.  They didn’t.

But that might be because I totally pulled a Sidney Bristow from Alias and complimented the woman on her nails.  Beautiful French manicures… of course.

After that, I walked right out the front door. Props to the guy who wrote National Treasure. There’s a lot of nonsense in that thing that could never happen, but I proved that you could definitely use the “document” in the poster trick.  Just sayin’.

Anyway, after that, I had to beat it out of Paris before one of the other authors saw me.

After borrowing a car from a friend of a friend of a friend, and thanking the Lord that most of Europe is sensible enough to drive on the right side of the road…literally, I finally hit the road.

I had wanted to take the A6 (less than a 5-hour drive), but it has tolls, so I figured that meant cameras. Not a good idea.  So, I went for the longer route. It also had tolls.  And another longer route… you guessed it.  Tolls.  Again. Lots of euros and paying attention to how and where you got on-off.  Sometimes I could go miles on semi-parallel roads, so I did avoid a lot, but not all.  I had to pray it would be enough.

Oh, yes. I prayed I’d get away.  Definitely.

I’d left after midnight and by the time I pulled into Lyon, I was beat.  Still, I had to get to my destination before those crazy gendarmes caught up with me. They were on my tail. I knew it.  But I couldn’t shake them for long.

The plan had been to race around the back, slip into a rear entrance, and make it up to the right office unseen, but I changed my mind.  Oh, I pulled my car around back, and I went up to that door.  I waited until someone came out and did everything I could to look like I went in, but I then scooted around to the front and marched right into the front door.

A receptionist gave me a cold, haughty look, but she didn’t scare me.

“I’d like to speak to Felix Paquet.”  Just saying it made me feel like I’d created an Agatha Christie-esque character.  I’m sure she would approve.”

The woman rolled her eyes. Okay, she didn’t actually roll them, but she looked like she wanted to.  “Do you have an appointment?”

“I do.  Please let him know that Carol Williamson has arrived.”  Okay, so I glanced over my shoulder. “And if you could hurry, I’d appreciate it.  I’m late.”

It took five minutes for the woman to finally inform me that an intern would be down to collect me.  Well, that’s what I thought she said.  She had one of those French accents that we all make fun of in movies… the way the English is so thick with French pronunciations that it sounds ludicrous?  Well, she either was making fun of me, or some people really do that.

The intern appeared about the time I was afraid that the bullets I’d begun sweating would fire themselves at anyone who looked at me. We’d crossed the lobby and stepped into the elevator when three men in suits and two uniformed men burst into the building.  My intern pushed the “doors closed” button just as a jumble of French and English words erupted through the lobby.  I don’t know what any of them actually said, but I know the gist.  “Stop that woman! She stole the Russian princess painting from the Louvre!”

The intern winked at me.  “Did you really?”

Okay, so those tacky yoga pants and baggy shirt I’d worn?  Yeah.

Here’s why.

Since I had a witness (and a camera trained on me, no less), I reached behind me and pulled the poster tube from the side of my pants… modesty and all.  I waggled it before him and said, “Yep!”

The guy’s lips pursed, and he led me out of the elevator and to a door marked Felix Paquet.  I hadn’t stepped across the threshold of the little man’s office when the five men burst out of another elevator and raced toward me.  They caught my arms just as I would have greeted the man behind the desk–my “fence” so to speak. Or was he my client?  Was I his client?  Who knew.  But that’s the thing. I’d done it. Stolen the painting.

And I’d gotten away with it.

“Welcome to Interpol, Ms. Williamson!”  He winked at me before adding, “Or should I say, ‘Mrs. Havig.'”

The guy holding onto my right arm–the one holding the poster–slacked a bit.  “You know her?”

Mr. Paquet told the men they could release me before nodding to my poster. “May I see?”

I couldn’t help myself.  I mean, come on.  So, of course, I said, “Oui.”

In one swift move, he slipped the plastic sheath off the tube and unrolled the poster.  As it opened, so did the painting. It curled, but it hadn’t been rolled up long enough to adopt a completely new shape. As he examined it, Paquet nodded. “You did as you were told. Very good.  I am impressed.”

“I thought I’d be caught at the door–the back one.  Who knew I could pull it off?”

The men who crowded the office demanded an explanation.  One insisted I be arrested on the spot.  The other called it a travesty.  A third crowed that he’d caught me.

Mr. Paquet simply smiled.  “Ms. Havig requested the opportunity to attempt to steal the painting and we accepted the challenge.”

The man who had crowed stopped his squawking.  “What?  And risk the paintings!  Non!”

“There was no risk,” I said.  “There are copies, you know–of every painting there?  So when repairs have to be done or there’s a big public thing that puts them at risk, they… well, aren’t?  They put all those up two nights ago when I said I was coming.  They thought I’d do things when everything was busy this weekend–certainly not hours after I’d arrived, anyway.”

Look, I don’t often pull this stuff off.

It took months of planning, tons of begging, the promise of a big donation.  Then I had to find someone willing to do that donating thing.  All of that took AGES on the phone.  I hate the phone.  But there you have it.  I managed to steal the painting of the Russian princess from the Louvre and turn it into Interpol before the police caught up with me.

Get this. I even overheard one of the Paris gendarmes discussing whether to keep the others still searching in case I’d pulled off a double-heist.  They’re going to interview everyone I know there. Just in case.  I tell you, those authors are going to be so confused.

Well, that’s it!  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  I just wish I could have seen more of France while I was there.  It’s all a bit murky… shadowy… and moonlight-y.

slashed canvas stole the paintingSlashed Canvas by Liz Tolsma

Held prisoner by all she’s lost, Katarina’s about to lose all she has.

Princess Katarina Volstova barely escaped the Russian revolution, arriving in Paris just before the birth of her twin daughters. With her heart still captive in her homeland, she haunts the Louvre each day, spending hours gazing at one painting, lost in her pain.

Not the man he once was before the Great War, Georges Velvey hides himself away doing janitorial service in the Louvre and watching the beautiful woman whose pain seems riveted on one painting.

When Katarina returns home to find her daughters and their nanny missing, the loss opens her eyes to all she has to lose now.

Frantic to find her girls, her distress causes Georges to offer his assistance. Together they put together clues to a puzzle they must complete before the kidnapper ensures Katarina and her daughters are never reunited.

Slashed Canvas offers a retelling of The Lost Princess that mingles self-centered grief, spoiled little girls, and proof that nothing will stop a mother from saving her children.

Have you been able to follow the mystery of who stole the painting?

The Ever After authors were all interviewed, so if you want to see what they went through, Follow the trail of the missing painting:

Cathe Swanson – Feb 1
April Hayman – Feb 2
Denise Lauren Barela– Feb 3
Sandy Barela – Feb 4
Rebekah Jones – Feb 5
Liz Tolsma – Feb 6
Marji Laine– Feb 7
Chautona Havig – Feb 8

Get your entries in on every author’s page. Fun prizes associated with this “who stole the painting” mystery!

 

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  1. Rev. Andrea Stoeckel says

    February 8, 2022 at 11:03 am

    Just got it! And I’m excited (insert Happy Dancing shark sticker here)

    Reply

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The Because Fiction Podcast

The Because Fiction Podcast
The Because Fiction Podcast

Taking the pulse of Christian fiction

Episode 145: A Chat with Debut Women's Fiction Author, Sara Brunsvold
byChautona Havig

Debut Author, Sara Brunsvold, is bursting on the Christian Women’s fiction scene with an amazing book, The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kip. With characters who have captivated my heart from page one (and enough quirkiness to keep my attention to the last), Sara Brunsvold is sure to become a favorite author, and this book is already on my top five of the year before it’s even released!

Note links may be affiliate links that provide me with a small commission at no extra expense to you.

This Novel Isn’t Even Available Yet, and It’s in My Top 5!

If you’d told me that I’d fall so in love with two chapters of a book that it would push that book into my top five of the year so far, well… I’d have laughed.

The joke’s on me because it happened with Sara Brunsvold’s The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kip. This debut women’s fiction novel has a bit of a split-time element and is set in Kansas City. Trust me when I say that meeting Clara was one of the most fun introductions to a character I’ve ever had. I just love this woman, and I’m drumming my fingers to get to read more about her.  Not surprising considering it won the ACFW Genesis’s award a couple of years back. 😀

Sara says her passion is intergenerational stories, and you definitely get this with Aidyn and her “assignment,” Mrs. Kipp.  But you also get inter-cultural and ideological influences in this book as well.

And then there’s that next book she has coming out.  You know, the one about a gal cooking her way through her grandma’s German cookbook?  Yeah.  The one we have to wait until early 2024 for?  Yeah. That one.  Sigh.

When Sara told us about her favorite authors, a lot of things made sense.  Just sayin’. Find out which of Katherine Reay’s books are her favorites and how she fangirled over Reay’s response to an email (and why you should email your favorite author!).

The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kip by Sara Brunsvold

Aidyn Kelley is talented, ambitious, and ready for a more serious assignment than the fluff pieces she’s been getting as a cub reporter for the Kansas City Star. In her eagerness, she pushes too hard, earning herself the menial task of writing an obituary for an unremarkable woman who’s just entered hospice care.

But there’s more to Clara Kip than meets the eye. The spirited septuagenarian may be dying, but she’s not quite ready to cash it in yet. Never one to shy away from an assignment herself, she can see that God brought the young reporter into her life for a reason. And if it’s a story Aidyn Kelley wants, that’s just what Mrs. Kip will give her–but she’s going to have to work for it.

Debut author Sara Brunsvold delights with this emotional multigenerational story that shows that the very best life is made up of thousands of little deaths to self. You’ll want to be just like Mrs. Kip when you grow up!

This book is 40% off with free shipping from Baker Book House. That’s less than the Kindle version if you like paper!

You can learn more about Sara at her WEBSITE (and sign up for that newsletter so you can get Mrs.Kip’s 8 Rules to Live By). Oh, and if she does those videos of her cooking through that book, you’ll want to know when/where to find them.

Like to listen on the go? You can find Because Fiction Podcast at:

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Episode 145: A Chat with Debut Women's Fiction Author, Sara Brunsvold
Episode 145: A Chat with Debut Women's Fiction Author, Sara Brunsvold
May 20, 2022
Chautona Havig
Episode 144: Chatting about Restored Grace with Kathleen J. Robison
May 17, 2022
Chautona Havig
Episode 143: A Chat with Romantic Suspense Author, Mary Alford
May 13, 2022
Chautona Havig
Episode 142: A Chat about A Promise Engraved by Liz Tolsma
May 10, 2022
Chautona Havig
Episode 141: A Chat with Elizabeth Goddard about Critical Alliance
May 3, 2022
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Episode 140: A Chat about When the Meadow Blooms by Ann H. Gabhart
April 29, 2022
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Episode 139: A Chat with Middle-Grade Author, RM Ruiz
April 26, 2022
Chautona Havig
Episode 138: A Gush about a Good (more like GREAT) Read & GoodReads
April 22, 2022
Chautona Havig
Episode 137: A Chat with Contemporary Romance Author, Mandi Blake
April 19, 2022
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Episode 136: A Chat with Middle-Grade Historical Author, Marie Sontag
April 15, 2022
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Reposted from @beckylewis345 Life can be hard. Ent Reposted from @beckylewis345 Life can be hard. Enter cozies like A Sprinkle in Time by Dana Mentink. Clean, with a sweet romance, whose amateur sleuth runs a delectable shake shop. A dog, a child, precocious twins who work for the shake shop, and lovable Papa Luis. Plus, of course, plenty of suspects. “Murder, mayhem, and milkshakes. Who’d a thunk it?”

Trinidad Jones becomes someone I truly care about in this book. I am amazed at how she and Gabe’s two other former wives forgive each other and actually become friends. Not just friends, but family, as thick as blood. Now there is a small cluster of characters to follow and enjoy in this town of Upper Sprocket. Fun!

I enjoy the inclusion of dogs, children, and special-needs people, and Dana Mentink brings them all to our Shimmy and Shake Shop story. Noodles is old, but what a loyal companion, and, wow, does he have an amazing ability or two! Little  Felice adds warmth and vulnerability to the tale. Doug, the special-needs brother of Trinity’s love interest, Quinn, adds reality and complexity to the novel. 

Mentink has a good sense of humor and I laughed out loud several times. Just what I want out of a cozy. Mystery, romance, great characters, laughter. A fun occupation that the sleuth actually works at. I am happy to report I made it through the book without indulging in ice cream! But, can you?

I am looking forward to more murder and mayhem in Upper Sprocket! Plus more Freakshakes! 

———————————————————————
I received a copy of the book from Celebrate Lit. (I also bought my own copy.) No positive review was required, and all opinions are my own.
———————————————————————
Notable Quotables:
“He was merely a friend the way a Ming vase was just an old pot.”

“There’s your plan and God’s plan, and your plan…” “Doesn’t count,”

“Maybe it’s one of those weird small-town happenings.” “A body in your trunk isn’t a happening, it’s a horror movie,”

“It wasn’t an easy thing to command the heart to feel what the brain ordered.”

“Rumors carry so much more weight than the truth, sometimes.”
Giveaway on blog in bio.
#celebratelit
#danamentink
#frozendesserts
#justdeserts 
#justiceforsprockett
#amreadingcozies
Reposted from @celebratelit Did you know that When Reposted from @celebratelit Did you know that When the Pilot Falls by April Hayman from the Ever After Mystery series is 25% off with the Celebrate Lit Summer Sale? 

More about the book: 
In 1923, there aren’t many pilots, but Willie Labeau didn’t let that stop… her.

A bear of a man, Hugh Taylor, needs a stunt plane pilot, and despite their rocky introduction, Willie sets off for golden California and a new life as his pilot. There’s just one little thing she has to do in addition to flying.

Leave his past alone. Period.

When the flame of her own curiosity becomes fanned by encouragement from Willie’s sister, the feisty pilot can’t help but do just a little investigating.

And Hugh vanishes.

Friends rally around her, and with all the information she can find in hand, Willie sets off to rescue Hugh and battle the evil family holding him hostage.

A fierce air race, a sincere act of humility—are they enough to free Hugh and give Willie a chance to be with him… forever?

Find out in this next book in the Ever After Mysteries, combining beloved fairy tales and mysteries. When the Pilot Falls offers a retelling of “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” that will keep you gripped to the edge of your seat as you watch hearts soar and daring dos.

Link in bio! 

#aprilhayman #whenthepilotfalls #everaftermysteries #celebratelit #christianfiction #historicalfiction #bookstagram #bookloversofinstagram #readersofinstagram
Dial W for Wrangler: Vi's just trying to sell used Dial W for Wrangler: Vi's just trying to sell used recliners and old, broken wagon wheels.  She can't help it if folks keep asking for help with their love lives... can she?
See the lengths Wade goes to in his quest to behave like a rational guy.
Releases Tuesday, May 24. Available on 
#Kindle
#KindleUnlimited
#PaperbackBooks

#ChristFic
#YouAreOnTheAir
#ContemporaryChristianSweetRomance

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Ready for giveaways and fun? I sure hope so, beca Ready for giveaways and fun?  I sure hope so, because I'm planning on loads!
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Starts off Tuesday morning! (or maybe tomorrow... or this evening... depends on how much willpower I actually have!) Join us in the You Are on the Air Reader group!
#booklaunch
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Link to group is in my bio!
And tomorrow the GoodReads Giveaway begins!
How does this author celebrate a finished book? By How does this author celebrate a finished book? By reading someone else's finished book. 😀 
#amending
#needicecream 
#onthemenu
#freakshakes
"Murder, mayhem, and milkshakes. Who'd a thunk "Murder,  mayhem,  and milkshakes.  Who'd a thunk it?"
@dana_mentink 
#shimmyandshakeshop
#cozymystery 
#needicecream
Love it when publishers use plays on words. #amend Love it when publishers use plays on words.
#amending
#cozymysterybooks 
@dana_mentink
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