(And who would, without question, drag me into trouble with a smile.)

There are fictional characters you admire, fictional characters you root for, and then there are fictional characters you just know—instinctively, cosmically—would absolutely enable your nonsense while also reminding you to hydrate. Those are my people. So today, let me introduce you to three cozy sleuths I would one hundred percent befriend in real life. I’m talking warm drink, rainy afternoon, wool-socks-on hardwood-floor energy.

These three feel like old friends who show up at your door unannounced, carrying baked goods and a suspicious glint in their eye. And honestly? I’d let them in every time.

Jessica Fletcher

Ah, Jessica. The queen. The blueprint. The coziest of cozy detectives and the patron saint of “I’m not nosy, I just happen to wander into murder every weekend.”

I first watched reruns of Murder, She Wrote curled up on the couch with my grandmother—who ran her household with the same calm authority Jessica used on suspicious deputies. When my grandmother passed, I found myself picking up the books as a way to keep a little tether to her. Every chapter felt like a warm memory wrapped in cardigan sleeves and mystery.

Jessica Fletcher, that deceptively gentle whirlwind of a woman, clocked more bike miles than a Tour de France hopeful. She’d just casually be pedaling through town like, “Oh look, a quaint lighthouse. Oh look, a body.”

She gave as good as she got, too—throwing shade with the same sweetness she used to offer tea. No one could deliver a polite verbal slap like Jessica. She kept herself humble, insisting she was just a widowed mystery writer from Maine who solved “a few little murders,” as if half the Eastern seaboard didn’t fear her investigative powers.

And she always helped anyone who needed it. Lost tourist? Struggling store owner? Fellow writer with deadlines worse than mine? Jessica was there. No questions. No hesitation. Just her kind heart, her trusty bicycle, and a level of curiosity my grandmother and I both deeply admired.

Was she noisy? Oh absolutely. Quiet wasn’t in her vocabulary. But that was half the charm—she never pretended otherwise.

Vivian Borne

From the Trash ’n’ Treasures Mysteries—Vivian is the ride-or-die friend who appears in your driveway unannounced, honks twice, and somehow ropes you into a cross-state escapade before you’ve even found your shoes. And you go willingly, because resisting her is impossible.

She is, let me be very honest, a worse driver than me. And I once hit a mailbox because a squirrel startled me. So that’s saying something.

Vivian is more dramatic than a telenovela cliffhanger. Everything is high stakes. Everything is life or death. Everything is a monologue. And I adore her for it.

She can charm absolutely anyone—police chiefs, antique dealers, disgruntled neighbors, seafood vendors who were just about to close. Vivian does not hear the word “no.” She only hears “slightly inconvenienced yes.”

She lives her best life loudly, proudly, and with zero apologies. A setback doesn’t knock her down; if anything, it becomes a dramatic plot twist she narrates as she gets right back up.

And truly? I’m more than convinced that even she doesn’t always know what's happening. She’s just vibing. Vibrating, actually—at a frequency so high that reality can’t keep up.

Tell me that wouldn’t make for the most chaotic, spark-filled friendship.

Sister Boniface

Look, I know she’s not a literary sleuth. She’s a TV detective on Sister Boniface Mysteries. But listen… rules were made to be broken, especially the ones I invent myself.

Sister Boniface is the perfect blend of earnest brilliance and whimsical curiosity. Her mind is a cathedral of science—precise, analytical, firecracker-bright—and yet she’ll drift into the most fantastical mental tangents with the ease of someone debating both forensics and theology while also brewing exceptional wine.

Her faith is unshakeable. Rock solid. Not a barrier to her logic but the foundation beneath it. There’s no conflict between what she believes and what she can prove—she holds both with this gentle, glowing confidence that honestly feels like a warm cup of tea on a foggy morning.

She’s tireless in pursuit of the truth and won’t rest until she’s found it… but she also refuses to assume anything without evidence. A rational queen. A methodical menace. A woman who will offer you biscuits while explaining the chemical composition of the dirt on your shoe.

Tell me that’s not friend material.

Why These Three?

Aside from the fact that each one could solve a homicide, a minor family squabble, and a logistical nightmare involving missing baked goods… these women remind me of something I hold dear: Curiosity paired with compassion is a superpower.

And honestly? That’s the energy I bring to my own cozy mystery series, too.

If you like atmospheric cozies, quirky characters, and sleuths who refuse to mind their own business (affectionate), keep an eye on my upcoming Vale & Stone series.

Rain-slicked streets. A touch of Gothic. A sparkle of whimsy. And two consulting detectives who can’t seem to stay out of trouble—no matter what universe tries to throw at them.

Until next time,

Indigo