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I’m happy to welcome Shelley Marsh to the blog today! It’s always a treat to have authors stop by to share a little about themselves and their inspirations. Today we’re celebrating her latest book, Dying to Live Here. I hope you enjoy getting to know her and the stories behind her work.
A Life Well Lived
by Shelly Marsh
One of the things that inspired my debut series, The Estate Sale Mysteries, was my own love of estate sale shopping. For me, though, it’s never really been about shopping. I like going to estate sales not because I want to buy anything, but because I like to look at other people’s houses. It might sound nosy, but I suspect this kind of curiosity is human nature. Many of the other attendees are probably there for the same reason.
Estate sales fascinate me because they sit at the intersection of loss, curiosity, and storytelling. I walk into a stranger’s house and almost immediately start telling myself stories about the life that happened there—who lived there, what they cared about, and how they spent their days. Every object feels like a breadcrumb.
At an estate sale, I walk right into a person’s bedroom. The former inhabitant’s perfume may still linger in the air. A dresser serves as a display for their jewelry, now for sale. Each piece was likely chosen with care and given on a specific occasion—a silver bangle for a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, a necklace for a birthday or Valentine’s Day. Now, price tags dangle from each item, assigning a price for the strangers passing through their room. And then someone calls out from the closet, asking if the shelf organizers are for sale, and the spell breaks.
During my many visits into these other people’s lives, I’ve noticed something: you can learn a lot about a person by observing the “stuff” they kept—the things they valued enough to hold onto. Every life tells a story, even when no one is left to tell it.
Many estate sales take place in the homes of the wealthy. It makes sense, really, because they have the most possessions with value. These are the sales with a line winding up the front walk, into the driveway, and on the sidewalk before the doors open. Wealth often shows itself in quality: well-made furniture, top-shelf appliances, and brand names meant to last. By Sunday afternoon, many of those items will be marked down to half price.
I’m fascinated by the variety of items that people collect. Menageries of ceramic figurines, dozens of designer handbags, and silver service for twelve speak to lives that were full of entertaining, aspiration, or simply appreciation for beautiful objects. Some who had aspirations to be gourmet chefs spent money on many, many kitchen gadgets. At estate sales, these are all clustered on the kitchen counters with price tags on them. Often, they are hopelessly out of date and look like they’ve never left the box.
Others spent money on sporting equipment: golf clubs, fishing gear, scuba fins, wetsuits, and kayaks. Some of it looks barely touched, as if good intentions never manifested into activity. I’ve seen pristine exercise equipment purchased during some hopeful January in the past, a reminder of plans made with the best of intentions, even if life ultimately had other ideas.
My mind boggles when I spot collections of commemorative soft drink bottles. The dusty bottles proclaim some football team’s big win in 1985 that no one else remembers, but that clearly meant something to the purchaser. At least, I hope they did. As investments, they never quite paid off, but as personal mementos, they tell their own story.
Of course, meaning isn’t limited to wealth or what someone could afford to collect. I’ve walked through modest homes filled with just as much evidence of hope, routine, joy, and aspiration. Whether expensive or ordinary, the objects people leave behind hint at what they cared about and what they intended to do with the time they had.
In one house I walked through, the children’s heights were marked on a wall just inside the kitchen doorway. Names and dates were written in Sharpie, the lines climbing higher year by year.
I stopped to examine the names and wondered how old those children were now, and where their lives had taken them. Had they stayed nearby, or scattered far from this house? Did they remember standing there, shoes off, backs pressed to the wall while a parent marked the date?
It wasn’t for sale, obviously. It would be painted over or torn down. It had no monetary value—but to the people who lived there, it was priceless.
My favorite houses belong to people who traveled. Their homes display souvenirs from places they went and moments they lived. I imagine these items served as visual reminders, bringing back memories of visits to distant places. In one home I perused, I saw a German clay cooking pot called a romertopf. In another hung sketches drawn by street artists in France. Others brought home colorful mouth-blown glass from Murano, Italy, or woodblock prints from Japan.
To me, items collected while traveling feel different from other possessions. They weren’t bought to be owned so much as to be remembered. Even years later, they suggest stories that extend beyond the walls of the house: meals shared, streets wandered, and moments paused long enough to bring a piece of them home.
While it is unpleasant to imagine this life ending, I would like to think that my house will be like those of travelers. I want people to say that the person who lived there lived fully within its walls and also explored beyond them. I want them to say, “This was a life well-lived.”
About Dying to Live Here
Dying to Live Here (Estate Sales Mysteries)
Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Setting – Florida
Publisher : Fawkes Press
Publication date : February 10, 2026
ISBN-13 : 978-1957529516
ASIN : B0GFNR9XDT
When tech burnout Emma Stewart follows her best friend’s advice to view a quaint beachside home in Harbor Shores, Florida, she expects palm trees, sea breezes, and maybe a fresh start. What she doesn’t expect is to stumble into a murder scene—and become a prime suspect.
With the HOA president lying in a pool of blood and her bestie splattered with the evidence, Emma suddenly finds herself knee-deep in neighborhood secrets, rivalries, and a suspiciously missing knife. Armed with nothing but her dry wit, a talent for digital sleuthing, and an adorable bulldog named Hopper, Emma must navigate a world of nosy neighbors, passive-aggressive happy hours, and one dangerously charming lawyer.
In Harbor Shores, the homes are charming—but the secrets are deadly.
About Shelley Marsh
Shelley Marsh writes laugh-out-loud mysteries set along Florida’s sun-splashed coast. Her forthcoming debut, Dying to Live Here (Feb 10 2026), launches the Estate Sale Mysteries series, pairing clever puzzles with a hint of romance. When she isn’t prowling estate sales for story fodder, Shelley combs beaches and bookstores, searching for treasure.
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TOUR PARTICIPANTS
February 10 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW, AUTHOR INTERVIEW
February 10 – Books1987 – SPOTLIGHT
February 11 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST
February 12 – Jody’s Bookish Haven – SPOTLIGHT
February 13 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER INTERVIEW
February 13 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT
February 14 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
February 15 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT
February 16 – Sarandipity’s – AUTHOR GUEST POST
February 17 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
February 18 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – REVIEW
February 19 – Sarah Can’t Stop Reading Books – REVIEW
February 20 – Reading Is My SuperPower – REVIEW
February 20 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW
February 21 – StoreyBook Reviews – CHARACTER GUEST POST
February 21 – Storybook Lady – REVIEW
February 22 – Elizabeth McKenna – Author – SPOTLIGHT
February 23 – Salty Inspirations – AUTHOR GUEST POST
February 23 – Boys’ Mom Reads! – SPOTLIGHT
DYING TO LIVE HERE Book Excerpt
In the dim light, the vacant house had an ominous aura, and its dark windows gaped like empty eyes. My heart began to race. I stopped walking.
“I’m having second thoughts about this, Laura.”
She ignored me, leading the way past the overgrown lawn through a tunnel of hedges flanking the front door. The jungle-worthy shrubbery blocked any moonlight and hindered Laura’s initial efforts to insert the key. The keychain jangled as she fumbled with the key. I swiveled my head, checking for nosy neighbors. Swiping upward on the screen of the phone clutched tightly in my hand, I activated the flashlight.
“Turn that off,” she hissed. “Someone will call the police.”
I wiped my sweaty palm on my pants and turned off the light. “Come on, Laura,” I wheedled. “Let’s forget about this.”
A click and a squeak of the door hinges answered me. Laura crossed the threshold and fumbled for a moment, searching for a light switch. Suddenly, she tumbled forward into the darkness and squealed.
Quickly, I reactivated the light and aimed it at the foyer. Laura lay sprawled atop a dark lump on the floor. I quickly realized it wasn’t a lump. It was a body—the body of a woman. Long strands of red hair splayed out in the puddle of blood beneath her.
Suddenly spotlighted, Laura scrambled to her feet, squealing, “Ohmygod—ohmygod—ohmygod.” A large splotch of blood stained the front of her shirt. She peered down and started to breathe so rapidly I thought she might hyperventilate.
My head spun. A coppery smell wafted out through the doorway. I focused on my phone, trying not to faint. “I’ll call 911.”
“Wait.” Laura grabbed my arm. “Think about what this looks like.”
My finger stopped before sending the call. “Are you suggesting we turn around, lock the door, and pretend we never saw anything?”
“I don’t know. Just let me think.” She ran both hands through her blond hair, transferring a streak of red to one of her curls.
“Who is that? Do you know?”
“Yes, I know her.”
At that moment, headlights illuminated the driveway.
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A big thank you to Shelley Marsh for stopping by today and sharing a glimpse into her world. If you’re curious to learn more, be sure to check out her latest book, Dying to Live Here, and follow her online for more insights and stories. While you’re here, take a moment to look around for more great books to add to your TBR.
As always, thanks for stopping by for some Salty Inspirations! – Michelle❤️
