I used to love to read Ellery Queen novels. My dad’s mother had them stashed in the bathroom, so I learned to enjoy them while having a soak in her claw foot bathtub. It was my introduction to The Cliffhanger. It was also my introduction to giving hints inside stories. Took me years and years to figure out the formula but now I can pick out the hints in TV shows and books without missing a beat. This in no way spoils it for me but pushes me to hide mine a little deeper just to be a little more clever. Once I was so clever I forgot my own hint…but that’s a story for another day. But hints are like little easter eggs for novels. I adore them.

I also like hints that are foreshadowing events. Like, for instance, next week you’ll want to come back here and see who has come by for a visit. I’ll just say if Louis L’amore had a daughter, she’d be it. You’ll like this visitor too and you’ll get to ask her questions. She has told many tales. Her latest is…

Well, that’s a surprise for another day.

Come back for clues. And check your Twitter feed, too. Foreshadowing is a writer’s joy.

Just over the horizon, under an expansive sky, a lone figure rides out with the sun as a backdrop. The silhouette is stark, sharp against the early morning and dust lifts in the wake of hooves. Listen! There is a faint jingle of spurs…

Hints. I adore them!