An Unacceptable Death
Born April 30, 1956
Died January 21, 2007
Barbara Seranella, 50, bestselling mystery author and resident of Laguna Beach and PGA West in La Quinta, died peacefully on January 21, 2007, at 4:15 p.m. EST (1:15 p.m. PST) at the Cleveland Clinic in Cleveland, Ohio, with her husband Ron Seranella and her brother Dr. Larry Shore at her side. Barbara, who died of end-stage liver disease while awaiting a liver transplant, leaves behind her husband Ron, brothers Larry Shore of San Francisco and David Shore of Woodacre, parents Nate and Margie Shore of La Quinta, and stepdaughters Carrie Seranella and Shannon Howard.
Private funeral arrangements are being made by the family. A celebration of Barbara's life is being planned for February; details will be announced later.
For information, please contact Debbie Mitsch, Barbara's publicist, at firstname.lastname@example.org or (714) 743-6127.
This was what I awoke to this morning. And it has cast a shadow over the entire day. Barbara was a friend. She used to stay with my husband and I when her travels took her through Denver. She was the first author I knew who made it a point to hit every bookstore in a fifty-mile radius when she was in town. She would introduce herself to the CRM and in a matter of minutes, had a new friend and fan. If you knew her at all, you knew Munch Mancini’s life was her own. She overcame incredible odds, battling a troubled childhood, drug addiction and alcoholism. We would sit on our deck and she’d spin tales about her past that were even wilder than her character’s. She was a fighter. She was a mentor. When my book was published by ImaJinn, Barbara was the first to put a review on Amazon, she was right there at my first signing in San Diego. This picture was taken that day. It sits on my writing desk and when she underwent her first transplant, I sent her a copy. Her Christmas greeting this year was a poem. A song of hope, of confidence in the future. It was typical Barbara. Her last book was entitled, An Unacceptable Death. It sums up the way I feel. Barbara always came back. I guess I just figured this time would be no different.