The end is near...

By Gayle Carline
Mystery Author and Workshop Leader

Dammit.

I hate book endings. Seriously don't remember a single book I've ever read when I got to the end and said, "Wow, what a beautiful/wonderful/smart way to end this story." Granted, I've gotten to the end of a few books and said, "Thank God, that's over."

This includes my own books. Never satisfied with the last sentence, and I even feel iffy about the last chapter. In a couple of weeks, I'm going to be teaching some workshops at the Southern California Writer's Conference in San Diego, and someday I'd love to teach a course in how to write a spectacular ending.

Once I learn how to do it.

I'm more okay-ish with the wrap-up statement that says the book is over. I read one book that took place over New Year's festivities that ended with the line, "This was going to be a great year," and that wasn't too bad. The whole premise of the book was that the previous year was ending rather badly, what with romantic break-ups and murder and mayhem, so solving the murder and getting a new boyfriend seemed to warrant that last line.

I read another book that ended with our plucky heroine, having solved a murder, still mulling over her romantic options as she fell asleep. Somehow, her closing her eyes as I closed the book was appropriate.

It's the ones that end with the clever dialogue that I struggle with, and I do it myself. They remind me of this:



Which makes me wonder why I do it.

I'm kvetching about all this today because my editor advised me to re-write the ending to my horse show mystery. She likes how everything turns out, but thinks it goes out with a whimper instead of a soft, romantic Tie-the-beginning-to-the-end sigh.

What about you, Gentle Readers (and Writers)? Love endings? Hate them? Got any words of advice for this struggling soul? All suggestions are welcome, even the ones that suggest I put on my big-girl britches and stop whining.

Welcome to guest blogger, George Fong

I'm delighted and honored to welcome guest blogger, George Fong, in my place today (Sheila speaking)

George spent 27 years as a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, working all facets of violent crimes to include abductions, serial killers, drug traffickers, and violent gangs.  He retired in 2010 and is now the Director of Security for a world-wide sports entertainment Network.   

WHY I WRITE

In February 2005, I sat in a small room, watching one of my agents talk to a young man as he described what had happened to a missing 17 year old girl.

Her name was Justine. Less than a week prior to the interview, Justine's father had called me, asking for help to find his missing daughter. She had been gone for nearly a week. Her father was frantic and confused as to why his daughter would have left without notice, why she had not called. I was in the middle of executing a search warrant on another child predator, so I told the father that we would meet the following morning to see what we could do.

When we met with the father he was distraught. He told us about Justine, that she was a good student, and had a boyfriend. She wasn't a problem child. He told us that he remembered seeing Justine go to bed on the night prior to when she went missing. Her school books and backpack were still in her room. The inference was that she had no intention of going to school the next day. But she was not the type to run away. So what happened?

Over the course of the investigation a number of inconsistencies were discovered. People who held back from talking with us finally came forward and what we learned was that this was far from being a runaway case. On the night we decided to confront our suspects we separated them to find out what each one knew, what each one would be willing to say against the other. The first was Justine's boyfriend, the other, the boyfriend's best friend. The boyfriend denied having any knowledge of what happened or what we suspected. The best friend gave him up. 

I watched the friend explain how the boyfriend had crafted a plan to lure Justine out of the house, saying they were going to "rob a grow farm," and "not to tell anyone she was sneaking out of the house." Instead, the best friend drove Justine up to a dark hillside where the boyfriend was waiting. In the early morning hours, away from any witnesses, and without anyone knowing her whereabouts, the boyfriend placed a gun to Justine's head and shot her dead. The two forced her body into a shallow grave.  

We escorted the friend to the top of the hill where Justine was buried. It was in the middle of nowhere. Had it not been for the confession, I doubt she would have been found for quite some time. We taped off the area, posted officers and arranged for the Evidence Response Team to conduct the recovery efforts in the morning when there was sufficient light. After recovery the body, I met with the father and tried to explain to him what we had learned. He was beside himself. I can only imagine what he was thinking--how had things gone so wrong?

I returned home late that evening to find my young daughter was out with her friends. When she returned, we had a conversation about being out late, about my not knowing where she was, and what I had just experienced. She looked at me, paused and said, "But that won't happen to me, Dad." That's when I realized just how different one's life perspective can be, between a civilian home and the home of a law enforcement officer.

With twenty three years of speaking openly in my home about crime and murder, kidnapping, and drug traffickers, as if I had just come home from a manufacturing job, building widgets, I realized that the level of absurdity was well above the norm. Things that would shock the average person were nothing more than a B article in the local newspaper. It was years later when I recounted this story to my daughter and discovered that she remembered it differently. Whoever's version was more accurate didn't change the fact that we agreed our view of the world was different than that of most of the people we knew.

The culmination of this epiphany, along with a handful of other murder cases that I worked, made me look for an emotional release. It came in the form of writing. I certainly wasn't short of stories. But I knew the story had to be more than a procedural. Don't get me wrong. I think procedural books can be gripping. But I learned that the consequences of a person's actions, be it mine to my daughter, a boyfriend to his victim, or the victim to a father, was the real story. What I experienced in life gave me that vision. And so I wrote. The result of my journey is the release of my novel, Fragmented, which is loosely based on a kidnapping case I worked as a rookie agent. It is due to be released early February.
Email: george2990@mindspring.com

DiNunzio's Back!

The Accused (Rosato & Associates #12) by Lisa Scottoline (St. Martin's Press hardcover, 20 October 2013).

I love the Rosato & Associates books.  It's easy for any female reader to identify with Bernie, Mary and Judy, and the rest of their staff.  I've always identified most with Mary, who loves her family, but finds them somewhat embarrassing at times.

There are many embarrassing family moments in this story, which opens a party celebrating Mary's partnership at the firm.  Yes, Mary's parents are present, as are "The Three Tonys", friends of her father who treat Mary like a beloved niece, sometimes even "helping" her with her work. 

Uncomfortable with Change, Mary's a little overwhelmed by being the center of attention.  This pressure is eased by the arrival of a young woman hoping to hire her.  Allegra Gardner is thirteen years old, and despite being too young to sign a contract, wants Mary to prove that the young man arrested for murdering her sister six years earlier is innocent, even though he pleaded guilty.  She has her own funds, she says, and her parents are not opposed.

Since she's now a partner, Mary doesn't have to ask Bennie permission to take the case, but Making Decisions has always been difficult for her.  She eventually decides to do it, and finds that it's even more complicated than she'd imagined.

Meanwhile, her boyfriend, history professor Anthony Rotunno proposes to her:  yet another Big Decision to make, and more Change. 

This is a little lighter and more romantic than Scottoline's earlier novels in the series, which may be disappointing to some readers, but I found it to be a  delightful story that I completed in one afternoon.


FTC Full Disclosure:  Many thanks to Edelweiss and St. Martin's Press for the e-galley.

Digging for Clues

Artifact (A Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt Mystery) by Gigi Pandian (Henery Press* trade paperback, 6 August 2013).

Jaya Jones returns home late one night after a gig playing tabla at an Indian restaurant one night, and discovers that she has received a package from a former boyfriend, Rupert Chadwick.  Their relationship had ended more than a year earlier when Jaya left London after finishing the research for her doctorate in history.

The package contains a ruby bracelet and a note asking her to take care of the artifact, and that all would be explained if she called him.  But a day earlier, Jaya had read of Rupert's death in a car accident, which must have occurred shortly after he shipped the package to her.

Stunned, but curious about the piece, which appears to be authentic and valuable.  Armed with a photo of the bracelet, she goes to visit an old family friend who happens to be a professor of South Asian art history.  He refers her to one of his graduate students, Lane Peters who is, he says an expert on Indian jewelry.

While Lane is researching the bracelet, Jaya makes arrangements to go to Scotland, where Rupert had been working on an archaeological dig, and where, presumably, he found the bracelet.  After an eventful couple of days, she heads to the airport, where she finds that Lane is on the same flight as she is.  Jaya is not pleased; she's not sure if she can trust him or not, but she finally agrees to work cooperatively.

This an academic mystery that's informative but not pedantic, with just a bit of romance thrown in.  Jaya is a strong, intelligent protagonist, and I look forward to seeing more of her.

 Gigi Pandian is the child of cultural anthropologists from New Mexico and the southern tip of India. After being dragged around the world during her childhood, she tried to escape her fate when she left a PhD program for art school. But adventurous academic characters wouldn’t stay out of her head. Thus was born the Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt Mystery Series. The first book in the series, Artifact, was awarded a Malice Domestic Grant. The second book in the series,  Pirate Vishnu, will be released in February 2014.
Readers who sign up for Gigi's newsletter at www.gigipandian.com will receive  an exclusive Halloween-themed Jaya Jones short story in October.


FTC Full Disclosure:  I purchased the self-published edition of this novel at Left Coast Crime 2013.

*Artifact was originally self-published in 2012, but is being re-released by Henery Press tomorrow.)

Adieu, Izzy

The Last Word (A Spellman Novel) by Lisa Lutz (Simon & Schuster hardcover, 9 July 2013).

This was the perfect vacation read:  light, funny and with a plot that's fairly straightforward.

Isabel is a bit over her head trying to run the Spellman Agency after taking it over*.  She's just not cut out for administration.  It doesn't help that half her employees (her parents) insist on showing up to work in their pajamas, and refuse to attend staff meetings.

She's having trouble keeping up with the accounts, mostly because she's not sure how, and then she's accused of embezzling from one of her major clients.

She's living in her brother's basement, and trying to avoid babysitting his toddler daughter Sydney (aka, Princess Banana) who exhibits a curious disdain for her Aunt Izzy, trying to convince herself she doesn't miss her ex-boyfriend Henry, and wondering if her parents' marriage is falling apart.

Salvation comes from where she least expects it (no, I'm not going to tell you), and Izzy and the Agency survive.

Sadly, as the title implies, this is the last of the Spellman Documents.  Izzy and her family will be missed.



FTC Full Disclosure:  Many thanks to  the Publisher for the e-galley of the book.


*See Trail of the Spellmans

Listening to Mysteries

The Boyfriend by Thomas Perry (Tantor Audio book, 5 March 2013).

Reviewed by Marlyn Beebe.

I feel very fortunate to be able to download e-galleys of books from various publishers through services like Edelweiss, and I'm always delighted when I'm granted access to a title I've requested.  Even more so when it's by one of my favorite authors.

I love Thomas Perry's Jane Whitefield series, but it's been over a year since Poison Flower was published.  When I thought I saw the availability of a galley of The Boyfriend (which I mistakenly thought was a standalone), I jumped at it.  When I received approval, I was surprised to realize that it was an audiobook.  I reserve book listening for  driving, but since my trips are seldom very long, it doesn't seem worthwhile.  However,  I gamely downloaded the book, and though it took me 6 weeks, I managed to listen to the whole nine hours without too much confusion.  

The protagonist of the story is Jack Till, a former Los Angeles police detective turned P.I. (who first appeared in 2007's Silence).  In The Boyfriend, Jack lives still lives in the L.A. area.  He has a 24-year-old daughter named Holly, who has Down Syndrome and lives in a group home not far from her father's home.

Jack is visited at his office by a couple who ask him to find the killer of their daughter, Catherine Hamilton.  Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton believe that because Catherine was an high-class call girl, the police are being lax about their investigation.  Jack takes the case, and soon discovers that young women who share Catherine's profession have been murdered every few months in cities around the country.  At first, there doesn't appear to be anything linking these women, apart from their appearance: they are all strawberry blonde, and similar in features and build.

But as Jack digs deeper, he learns that they were all killed in the same manner, with a 9 mm handgun, and probably by the same guy.  Jack calls him "the boyfriend", but has difficulty finding information on the man's background.  As he follows the boyfriend across the country, he discovers a seriously disturbed and dangerous man who just may be Till's match.

Robert Dean has a deep, compelling reading voice, which is a good match for the suspenseful story, and more than once I found myself sitting in my driveway waiting for a chapter to end.


FTC Full Disclosure:  My thanks to Tantor Media and Edelweiss for the audio-download of the book.

Early Summer Releases

I can't wait to read these books, to be released in June and July, 2013:


If You Were Here  by Alafair Burke (Harpercollins hardcover, 4 June 2013).

Manhattan journalist McKenna Jordan is chasing the story of an unidentified woman who heroically pulled a teenaged boy from the subway tracks. When she locates a video that captures part of the incident, she thinks she has an edge on the competition scrambling to identify the mystery heroine, but is shocked to discover that the woman in the video bears a strong resemblance to Susan Hauptmann, a close friend who disappeared without a trace a decade earlier.

What would have been a short-lived metro story sends McKenna on a dangerous search for the missing woman—a search that will force her to unearth long-buried truths much closer to home…


Blood Orange by Karen Keskinen (Minotaur hardcover, 4 June 2013).

Santa Barbara private investigator Jaymie Zarlin has built her fledgling agency on finding missing people. Still struggling with the death of her troubled brother, who died in police custody, Jaymie is determined to help others in similar situations find their way home.  Homicides are not in her repertoire.

But when Lili Molina, a local teenager chosen for the coveted role of Daphne in the annual solstice parade, is murdered, Jaymie is urged to take on the case. Reluctant at first, she soon learns police are mishandling the investigation and can’t refuse. In a town where some people are filthy rich and some are dirt poor, Jaymie finds herself slipping into the fault lines between privilege and race. Her investigation turns up an array of suspects, including con artists, spoiled rich kids, and an eccentric oil heiress. Jaymie must move fast  to unravel a twisted conspiracy - before she becomes the next victim.


Clare DeWitt and the Bohemian Highway by Sara Gran  (HMH hardcover, 18 June 2013).

When Paul Casablancas, Claire DeWitt’s musician ex-boyfriend, is found dead in his Mission District home, the police are convinced it’s a simple robbery. But Claire knows nothing is ever simple.

With the help of her new assistant, Claude, Claire follows the clues, finding hints to Paul’s fate in her other cases—especially that of a missing girl in the gritty 1980s East Village and a modern-day miniature horse theft in Marin. As visions of the past reveal the secrets of the present, Claire begins to understand the words of the enigmatic French detective Jacques Silette: “The detective won’t know what he is capable of until he encounters a mystery that pierces his own heart.” And love, in all its forms, is the greatest mystery of all—at least to the world’s greatest PI.


The Last Word: A Spellman Novel by Lisa Lutz (Simon & Schuster hardcover, 9 July 2013).

After Izzy's hostile takeover of Spellman Investigations, her parents simply go on strike. Her sister, Rae, comes back into the family business with questionable motivations. Her other employees seem to be coping with anxiety disorders, and she has no idea how to pay the bills.

But her worst threat comes from someone who is no relation. Within months of assuming control of the business, Izzy is accused of embezzling from a former client, the ridiculously wealthy Mr. Slayter, who happens to have Alzheimer’s, which Izzy and he are diligently trying to keep under wraps. Not only is Slayter’s business and reputation on the line, but if Izzy gets indicted for embezzlement, she’ll lose everything—her business, her license, and her family’s livelihood.


A Dangerous Fiction by Barbara Rogan (Viking hardcover, 25 July 2013).

Jo Donovan always manages to come out on top. From the backwoods of Appalachia, she forged a hard path to life among the literati in New York City. At thirty-five, she’s the widow of the renowned author Hugo Donovan and the owner of one of the best literary agencies in town. Jo is living the life she dreamed of but it’s all about to fall apart.

When a would-be client turns stalker, Jo is more angry than shaken until her clients come under attack. Meanwhile, a biography of Hugo Donovan is in the works and the author’s digging threatens to destroy the foundations of Jo’s carefully constructed life. As the web of suspicion grows wider and her stalker ups the ante, she’s persuaded by her client and friend—FBI profiler-turned-bestselling-thriller writer—to go to the police. There Jo finds herself face-to-face with an old flame: the handsome Tommy Cullen, now NYPD detective.

Paul Casablancas, Claire DeWitt’s ex-boyfriend, is a popular musician in the San Francisco scene. When he’s found dead in his apartment, his cherished guitars missing, the police are convinced it’s a simple robbery, but Claire knows nothing is ever simple. With the help of her new assistant Claude, Claire follows the clues, finding hints to Paul’s fate in her other cases—especially a long-ago missing girl in a gritty 1980s East Village and a modern-day miniature horse theft in Marin. As visions of the past reveal the secrets of the present, Claire begins to understand the words of the enigmatic French detective Jacques Silette: “The detective won’t know what he is capable of until he encounters a mystery that pierces his own heart.” And love, in all its forms, is the greatest mystery of all - at least to the world’s greatest P.I. - See more at: http://www.hmhco.com/shop/books/claire-dewitt-and-the-bohemian-highway/9780547429335#sthash.wCjsRhdC.dpuf

Paul Casablancas, Claire DeWitt’s ex-boyfriend, is a popular musician in the San Francisco scene. When he’s found dead in his apartment, his cherished guitars missing, the police are convinced it’s a simple robbery, but Claire knows nothing is ever simple. With the help of her new assistant Claude, Claire follows the clues, finding hints to Paul’s fate in her other cases—especially a long-ago missing girl in a gritty 1980s East Village and a modern-day miniature horse theft in Marin. As visions of the past reveal the secrets of the present, Claire begins to understand the words of the enigmatic French detective Jacques Silette: “The detective won’t know what he is capable of until he encounters a mystery that pierces his own heart.” And love, in all its forms, is the greatest mystery of all - at least to the world’s greatest P.I. - See more at: http://www.hmhco.com/shop/books/claire-dewitt-and-the-bohemian-highway/9780547429335#sthash.wCjsRhdC.dpuf

The Criminal Choice Behind Burglary

by Tom Adair author of the 2012 Crime Thriller The Scent of Fear.

As a former CSI I tried to understand how the criminal thinks. It's impossible to consider every single motivation but there are some generalities that may aid investigators in uncovering certain clues. As an author I find this insight very valuable because weaving this mindset into your storyline gives a sense of realism I think readers respond to. Everyone wants to understand motive. It's how we begin to make sense of things and challenge our world view. As a reader I want to understand the motivations of the killer, victim, cops, and others too. It helps me understand why they do what they do.

I've talked to a lot of victims that ask me a simple question; "why me?". It's not a dumb question. While it is true that some victim's may just be int he wrong place at the wrong time (like a shark attack), others increase their vulnerability to crime and criminals (like joining a gang). So it's helpful to consider what types of factors criminals may consider when choosing a victim. I thought it would be simpler to frame the discussion within the topic of burglary. In truth, some of the selection criteria can be applied to other crimes as well but let's just stick with burglary for now.

Burglars typically choose a place to burglarize for one of three reasons. These are broad categories with some cross over but they will serve for the discussion.

1. Inside knowledge (intelligence)
2. Vulnerability with reward
3. Opportunity (wrong place wrong time)

Inside Knowledge: 
In the military this is called intelligence. You'd be amazed how often a burglary can be tied to intelligence. The world war two warning of  "loose lips sink ships" actually works with criminals too. If criminals find out that you have things of value they may want to look for an opportunity to take them. I often say that many criminals want "easy" so you have to do your best to avoid helping them. Here are some of the biggest sources of "intelligence leaks" in the household.

1. Children. Children are the worst. Kids love to tell stories and brag to their friends. "We just got a new computer", "My mom just inherited a bunch of money", "I just got a brand new XBOX", etc. Even when talking to 'trusted' friends the conversation may be overheard by others.
2. Social Media. I am always amazed at people that tell the twitterverse that they are on vacation. They get on Facebook and say "Hey! We're a thousand miles away from our house and NO ONE is watching it". Many don't have the smarts to lie and say something like "Thanks God my brother is on leave from the Marine Corps and is watching the house with an attack dog!".
3. Visitors to the house. This can be anyone from your son's new "gangsta friend", ex-boyfriend, or repairmen. We often don't consider what a stranger might see in our homes like jewelry being left out, or even where we keep money (when you pay a serviceman).

Vulnerability with Reward:
I link these two together because the burglar is more likely to exploit a vulnerability if they know there is a reward for their risk. One of the biggest vulnerabilities is easy access to the residence or business. Some of the biggest culprits are;

1. Open garage doors
2. Open windows or unlocked doors (houses and vehicles)
3. Items of value with easy access (like a purse or wallet left on the front seat of your car)

Other things can include ladders propped up against houses (for easy access to second story windows that are usually left unlocked) or newspapers or fliers piled up outside (indicating you're on vacation). The reward/risk issue is equally important. Wanna guess a percentage of how many homes displaying signs like "Dangerous dog", "Video Surveillance Used" or "Trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again" get burglarized compared to ones not displaying butterfly flags? Most criminals want "easy". Now all of this changes if your house is the only place to get what they want. So if you have a rare and valuable item (like the Hope Diamond) then the motivated criminal will look for a way to get it but, that is usually not the case. However, the higher the value of the item being sought, the more risk one may take to get it.

Opportunity:
This embodies the "wrong place, wrong time" meme. Obviously, the best way to avoid being in the wrong place is being more selective about the places we visit. I spend a fair amount of time in the back country of the Rocky Mountains. I feel much safer walking through the woods at midnight than an alley in many metropolitan cities. Some places are "wrong" for some folks no matter the time of day. Your characters may increase their risk of being attacked (mugged) because they are forced to go places they wouldn't normally choose. Maybe your PI has to go into a seedy bar or maybe somebody gets arrested and goes to jail for a few days. These exposures put them at increased risk. They may survive without incident but the tension is still there. From a criminal perspective it is literally the fly in the spider net. They simply wait for some unsuspecting victim to cross paths with them. The single attractive woman or suburban teenager with the iPod that has to ride a subway through the bad part of town at midnight.

Considering these factors when developing your plots, characters, and dialog will help explain the motivations of your characters and give a perspective for the reader when digesting the story. Remember, the motive has to align with the risk/reward calculus to be believable. A criminal won't rob a homeless man with a shopping cart full of old smelly clothes, empty liquor bottles, and a dead fish ;).

Where Fiction and Real Life Meet

Guest post by A.K. Alexander

There is an experience that I think most women can relate to. There are some men who can also relate, but on a different level; they certainly can react when someone they love, such as a wife, sister, mother, friend has had this extremely uncomfortable experience.

From the time women are little girls they are taught to look over their shoulder, to be aware of who is around them, and to trust their instinct. I can remember my dad having a talk with me before I went off to college and him telling me exactly what to do if I felt threatened. I can remember an LA police officer coming into the sorority house I belonged to and telling the members what to do if threatened. My husband gives me a reminder now and then as to what I should do if I feel threatened. All three of these men suggested everything from screaming, to going straight for that male anatomy that would make any man scream…

NO for women, a threat can just be as simple as a feeling. If we live alone or even spend a night alone, we have a heightened awareness that we carry with us because it is ingrained in us.

I can remember the first time I felt truly threatened. I was about eighteen, and I was going to get my hair cut. I had never been to this particular salon, and I was not a genius when it came to directions. So, driving my 1984 Celica (most likely with Madonna belting out Lucky Star on my tape cassette), I found myself sort of lost and, as usual, low on gas. This was an issue my father has had with me since the day I got my license. Anyhow…I noticed these skuzzy-looking dudes driving next to me in their beat-up car. They weren’t just skuzzy. They were creepy, nasty-looking, long-haired, greaseball, slime ogres. And, they started following me. My stomach sank, and I could feel the rapid beat of my heart and the burst of adrenaline as I realized there was no gas station in sight, the gage was low, and I could not for the life of me find the salon. Remember, this was pre-cell phone. I tried to ignore the guys, speeding up and slowing down, singing along with Madge, and I knew that I had to get my wits about me—and at eighteen, I will admit that wits were not my strong point. I can remember talking to God out loud, just asking that He would get me safely to where I needed to go before I ran out of gas. Amazingly, that is exactly what happened. I found the salon and pulled into the lot where other people were around. The creepers kept on going. It was unlikely that these piece-of-shit characters were going to do anything to me, but I won’t ever know. I am sure, however, that they enjoyed intimidating me and freaking me out.

Through the years, other things have happened, things that would make me edgy and nervous. However, nothing quite like that until I was much older and the single mother to my boys. The boys were five and three at the time. My oldest belonged to a pee-wee soccer team. As usual, on Saturday mornings we would venture out for my son to play in a game. My youngest was with his dad that morning, so it was just my big guy and me. I was pretty shy during those years—I was a single mother who had been through some tough crap, and I had a tendency to keep to myself.

My kid had a helluva game. I was cheering as any happy mom would. As I stood on the sidelines, I could not help the feeling that someone was watching me. This sense enveloped me. It was surreal, and in a strange way, claustrophobic. I scanned the parents around the arena and the park. My eye caught this guy who just did not fit in. Dads of youngsters have that certain “dad” look. I don’t mean in a physical way, but you know when someone on the side of a game is Dad. He looks that part by his demeanor and interest in the game. This dude was young, okay looking, tall. But definitely no one’s dad. He smiled at me. A serious shiver snaked down my backside. I walked a few feet further down the side of the soccer arena. I did all that I could to focus back on the game and not the man who I knew was watching me. I was able to do a decent job of that, mostly because my son was playing an amazing game. When he scored the final goal, I jumped up and down and hollered out his name. As I went to run out to meet him, I realized that the man had made his way over, and before I could get far enough away, he actually said to me, “It was good for you, too, then.”

Oooh! Gross and just totally inappropriate! My jaw dropped. I ran over to where my son was and stayed in that mix of kids and parents until I couldn’t spot him anymore. I can tell you that for the rest of that day, I was constantly aware of my surroundings and looking over my shoulder. With my little boy, that awareness turned into full-on, “This Mom will kick your ass, you blankety-blankety-blank" mode (you can fill in the blanks).

I am sure there are readers out there who can relate to these two situations—the kind where your heart races and real fear charges your every nerve ending. It’s that feeling that a good thriller gives you while reading it. It is those exact feelings and the combination of these two stories (plus one that I won’t go into here about a stalker ex-boyfriend who I hope lives under a rock somewhere) that were the catalyst for my thriller, Daddy’s Home.

Readers ask all the time if I ever draw from real life experiences. Although the thrillers that I have written take the feelings from these stories to the extreme, I think that we have all experienced fear and can relate to the intensity of emotion. While these situations were unpleasant, I was able to get those emotions on the page and have watched as both Daddy’s Home and Mommy, May I? have climbed the Amazon U.K. charts. Daddy’s Home, was #1 and Mommy, May I? have remained in the #5 position for over a month! If you like thrills and chills, then I hope you will give these thrillers a try.

Also, feel free to share if you can relate to either one of these experiences. I’d love to know how you responded and what occurred.


Thank You!

Cheers

A.K. Alexander is a pen name for international bestselling author Michele Scott whose work includes, but is not limited to, the Nikki Sands and Michaela Bancroft series as well as her latest blockbuster thriller, Daddy's Home. For more information about Michele and her work, please visit her website at: http://michelescott.com/

Don't call me Clark.

By Gayle Carline

Raymond Strait, a writer I met at the Southern California Writer's Conferences, once told me that all the stories we tell are a little bit autobiographical. He may be right; even when we are writing about other people, we pour so much of ourselves onto the paper, it's hard not to mix a little of our spirit in with the words.

Writing fiction always begs the question: is the author living vicariously through their protagonist?

In other words, is Peri Minneopa my alter-ego?

Yes and no. Physically, we are nothing alike, except we are Caucasian. I am a petite redhead and she is a tall blonde. We've both been married three times, but I'm still married to my third husband, quite happily so. We are both impatient and stubborn, and get cranky when people are stupid; the difference here is that Peri has less filters to stop her from saying what she's thinking.

For example, it's become very common when I go to the grocery store, for people to think that the crosswalk markings are some kind of force field that will repel any car trying to enter their space. As I creep into the parking lot, driving so slowly the needle doesn't even register my speed, a shopping cart will barrel out in front of me, pushed by a clueless person. They can be male or female, usually on a cell phone, and always with their back to me.

Here's the difference between Peri and me: I slam on the brakes and give them my best "you idiot" stare. Peri would slam on the brakes, lay on the horn and yell, "Get out of the way, you moron! If I hit you I'll have to clean up the mess!"

Peri argues with authority and fights with her boyfriend, Skip, too. I have to believe that I'm absolutely correct in order to challenge people. Peri only has to think she's possibly right in order to debate someone. She tries to be tactful, but she can only hold her tongue for so long.

So does this mean I'd like to be like Peri? Not really. I like her, would be friends with her, but I don't want to be her. I like it knowing when to shut up; I think that's a valuable skill.

Now it's your turn. If you are a writer, what qualities do you share with your main character? What qualities would you like to share?

If you're a reader, who are the characters you like to live through? Who would you trade places with, if you could?

A Baker's Tale

Before I get started on today's post, I need to post this. Cause it's funny.

I thought, in honor of Thanksgiving, I'd write about cooking. A few years ago, before my first book came out, I contributed a short story to an anthology and met some other writers, including Amy Alessio. She wanted me to contribute something to her blog, except that her blog is about cooking, which has nothing to do with mystery, unless you're at my house. Just kidding - I know how to follow a recipe. Don't ask me to wing it, though, or you'll never know what you're gonna get.

In an attempt to fit a square peg into a round hole, I wrote a little story about how my gal, Peri, can't cook but is trying to bake a cake. I've re-interpreted it here for your enjoyment:

* * * * *

    "Beebs, you gotta help me." Peri stood in the aisle of Albertson's Grocery Store, an index card in one hand and her cell phone in the other.

     Blanche Debussy, Assistant Coroner for the Orange County Sheriff's Office and Peri Minneopa's best friend, was nothing if not sympathetic. "Make it quick, Girlfriend. I'm in the middle of an autopsy."

    "This recipe you gave me calls for sugar, but there's so many different kinds." She curled the index card in her hand as she spoke. "There's brown stuff, and fluffy stuff, and stuff in paper bags. And what's a tisp?"

    "It's not a tisp. It's the abbreviation for teaspoon."
    "You mean I gotta buy a whole bottle of vanilla just for one teaspoon?"
    "Don't be a baby." Blanche's deep voice was stern. "You can flavor your coffee with it later. And get the kind of sugar you use in your coffee. How did you manage to grow to female maturity without knowing how to cook?"
    "My mother figured, if I wanted to learn, I'd ask. I never asked. I can make a salad and grill a steak. Why should I know how to bake a cake?"
    "So why are you baking one now? You know there are places that sell cakes."
    "Because Skip bet me I couldn't do it. And no, you can't help me. That's part of the bet."
    "Then I'd better let you get back to shopping."
    "Not yet." Peri read the recipe again. "Where do I find baking powder? How do I crush a pineapple? I still have questions."
    "And I'm apparently not supposed to help you, which works for me because I'm in the middle of a dead man. I'll check in with you later."
    Left with silence on the other end of the phone, Peri went back to reading the card, studying the boxes and mumbling softly to herself about getting into this mess. Why did I have to tell my boyfriend that anyone could bake a stupid cake, even me?
    Later that evening, a car pulled into Peri's driveway and the sound of women's heels clicked around the corner and up the back steps.
    "Peri?" Blanche opened the door. "How'd the cake turn out?"
    Peri looked up from her seat at the kitchen table to see her best friend's eyes grow wide. She followed her gaze and regarded the room. On one side of the sink, the counter was strewn with bowls of various sizes, serving spoons, and a frying pan. On the other side were bags of sugar and flour, a carton of eggs, and other ingredients. Everything had been dusted with white powder.
    Blanche continued to walk in. She picked up a plastic cup. "What's this from?"
    "I needed a measuring cup, so I used the one from my detergent," Peri said. Blanche scowled, so she added, "I cleaned it before I used it on the sugar. And how do you work with flour without it - foofing - all over the place?" She splayed her fingers to mimic an explosion.
    "It's a skill," Blanche told her. "Did you at least get some of it in the pan?"
    Peri pointed to the stove, then resumed picking the batter from her fingernails.
    "Peri…" Blanche looked at the brown and orange layer of lumps, a quarter-inch thick, crusted across the bottom. "What the hell happened?"
    "I have no clue. I followed the directions. They're obviously wrong." She picked up the recipe. "I put the sugar and oil together."
    Blanche looked at the bottle on the counter. "You used olive oil?"
    "The recipe says 'vegetable' oil. Olives are veggies, aren't they?"
    "Only on a pizza, dear. How did it stay so flat?"
    "How should I know? I scrambled the eggs, then added them to the sugar-"
    Blanche interrupted. "Wait. You 'scrambled' the eggs. You just mixed them, right? You didn't cook them."
    "Well, of course I cooked them. Raw eggs are unhealthy, right?"
    Blanche sat down beside her flour-spattered friend and began to laugh. She kept laughing until her sides were sore and eyes wept.
    "I'm glad I can provide your comic relief," Peri told her, before breaking into laughter herself.
    "By the way, what was the bet about?" Blanche asked, as her giggles subsided.
    "If I won, Skip was going to treat me to a day at Glen Ivy Hot Springs."
    "And if Skip won?"
    Peri stopped laughing and frowned. "I have to take a cooking class."
    The two women looked at each other, and their laughter began again.

* * * * *

In case you're dying from curiosity, here's the recipe she was trying to follow -

Carrot Cake

1 1/2  cups sugar

 1 1/4 cups vegetable oil
 4  eggs, lightly beaten
 2 cups flour
 2 tsp baking soda
 1 tsp salt
 3  tsp cinnamon
 1/2 tsp nutmeg
 2 tsp vanilla
 3 cups carrots, grated
 1/4 cup pineapple, crushed

Directions:

Preheat oven to 325. Combine sugar, oil & eggs. Sift dry ingredients. Add to sugar mix, beating well. Add vanilla, carrots & pineapple. Pour into greased & floured pan(s). Bake approx. 45 min or until inserted toothpick comes out clean.

Just top it off with some cream cheese frosting and you've got a little slice of heaven. Easy, right?

Happy Thanksgiving!

So-so Seventeen

Smokin' Seventeen by Janet Evanovich.

Reviewed by Marlyn Beebe.


Stephanie Plum has been around for some time now. The first book featuring the hapless bounty hunter One for the Money, was published in June, 1994. Seventeen years later (to the month) Smokin' Seventeen was released.

Stephanie's fans (and even many of those who aren't fans)know that Stephanie can seldom apprehend an FTA (Failure To Appear) without injuring herself or the criminal. Also, she can't make it through a book without having at least one car explode.

In this book, the staff of Vincent Plum Bail Bonds are working out of a motor home because the building originally housing the business burned down. Luckily, Vinnie had worked out a deal with the owner of the neighboring bookstore so a heavy cable runs between the shop and the trailer, providing it with electricity so secretary Connie can use the computer.

Stephanie has to deal with her sometime-boyfriend Joe Morelli's grandmother giving her the evil eye (not for the first time) as well as multiple people trying to kill her, along with the usual attempts by her mother to fix her up with a nice boy.

So, business as usual. However, Stephanie's capers just don't seem as funny as they used to. Has the quality of Evanovich's writing changed, or has familiarity bred ennui?

If you read the Stephanie Plum books, what do you think?

Casey Anthony—Her Family—And The Secrets Reflected in Their Handwriting

Peg Brantley here, turning over my time at the gate to someone who has some timely juice to share.

Please welcome Sheila Lowe to Crime Fiction Collective. Sheila is a forensic handwriting examiner (and an author), and she's taken a peek at some of the people surrounding the Casey Anthony murder trial. Read what she has to say about what their handwriting reveals.

(Sheila examined a sample of my handwriting awhile ago, and nothing horrendous must have shown up because we're still friends. Phew!)

The Anthony’s — The secrets in their handwriting

Casey Anthony has been judged Not Guilty by a jury of her peers. The reactions go from one end of the spectrum to another. The family is even receiving death threats.

It has been some time since a trial has created such intense public interest—maybe not since OJ Simpson, or Scott Peterson. Allegations of murder, sexual abuse, illicit romance created a veritable soap opera that could never be sold as fiction. It’s just too over the top to believe.

At the center of the circus is Casey Anthony, now 25, a young woman who has been proven to be an inveterate liar, accused of the most heinous crime—overdosing her 2 year old daughter with chloroform and leaving her body to rot in a wooded area where men go to relieve themselves and dump garbage.

Part of Casey’s defense has been that she was the victim of childhood sexual abuse by her father George and her brother Lee, which, her attorney claims, was covered up and taught her to live a lie. As a forensic handwriting examiner, I was interested to analyze samples of the major players in this drama, to see what could be revealed about their personalities.

Handwriting is not a crystal ball. It cannot determine whether Casey killed her young daughter, nor whether her father and/or her brother molested her. However, it does reveal a lot about behavior and motivations. If I had been unaware of the accusations, the signs of early sexual abuse were evident in her handwriting. That is, Casey’s handwriting is similar in many ways to the handwritings of other women who were the victims of childhood abuse.

The excessively large, overly rounded, crowded style are signs of a weak ego in someone who grew up believing that the world revolved around her. Never learning how to set proper boundaries gave her an unrealistic view of the way things work. There isn’t enough “air” in the writing, words are crammed up against each other, allowing for zero objectivity. There’s an inability to set boundaries between herself and others. As someone who sees only how things affect her, she fails to look at the big picture.

The lack of lower loops are an indicator for secrecy and denial, in that her desire and ability to look back at the past and learn from it are cut off. Her personal pronoun “I” is made like a stick figure, which is interesting in that the PPI represents the writer’s feelings about their parents. Generally speaking, we’re taught in school to make the I with an upper loop (feelings about mother) and a lower loop (feelings about father). When a writer cuts off the loops and makes a straight stroke, a bid for independence, pushing away the parents.

Casey’s handwriting has a very slight leftward slant and is “print-script,” a combination of printing and cursive. There’s a big conflict between her big emotions and her cool-heatedness, so she can be both highly impulsive and premeditated, depending on her mood of the moment—and because she doesn’t plan ahead, her life is lived in the moment. Her signature is illegible, another form of covering up. She crosses through her last name—her father’s name—which is a way of denying him.

Turning to George Anthony’s handwriting, he has two styles (only the cursive is shown here). As a former police officer, he sometimes uses block printing, but he also writes in cursive. His cursive style has a rather feminine appearance (gender is not conclusively revealed in handwriting), and the writing is very regular, with strong rhythm. Handwriting analysts look at contraction and release, which indicates how balanced the writer is in the way they express emotion and control emotion. George’s writing is strongly contracted, meaning that he holds everything inside, where it builds up until it explodes (which we have seen on the witness stand). This type of writing also say that image is extremely important to him. For anyone to see him as less than perfect and totally competent produces feelings of intense humiliation. People with this type of handwriting are usually willing to go to some lengths to keep up appearances.

Casey’s brother, Lee Anthony’s, handwriting slants in a variety of directions. The baseline, even though he’s writing on lined paper, bounces up and down, too. And the size of writing fluctuates. All this variability points to tremendous inner conflict, emotional torment—and of course, with good reason in this case. It’s more than that, though. People who write like Lee tend to feel as if they didn’t get the nurturing they needed early in life. He’s very sensitive, quite different from his sister, who is about as sensitive as a rock. He may feel as if he never quite fit in, that he’s missing something that everyone else seems to have. He’s also impatient and can be quite critical and sharp-tongued—notice the i dots that look like dashes. Because he feels emotionally isolated, it’s probably hard for him to relate to others on their level, but of these three people, I would tend to believe what Lee says more than any of the others.

What about Jesse Grund, a former boyfriend of Casey’s? Surprisingly, perhaps, Jesse’s handwriting shows a reasonable overall balance. There are no big red flags that stand out—maybe that’s why they broke up. He looks like a nice guy, and she needed someone who would feed her insatiable need for approval and attention that bordered on worship, but also someone who would abuse her, speaking to her inner fear that she’s not loveable.

Finally, let’s take a peek at Casey’s mother, Cindy Anthony. Cindy’s handwriting says she’s what we might call a “good girl.” She wants to do the right thing, to keep things orderly and take care of the people she loves. After all, she’s the one who got this ball rolling by calling 911 and reporting little Caylee missing. Underneath the good girl, though, is a rebel that defiantly pops out every now and then—we see this in letters that suddenly grow large, such as the “k” in “know,” and the “s” at the end of “always.” Her signature is particularly interesting, with its little bow tie on the top of the “o” in “Mom.” Because of the area in which it appears, it could be interpreted as symbolically locking her lips and keeping her own secrets. And keeping secrets is something at which this family seems to excel.

Sheila Lowe is a forensic handwriting examiner who testifies in cases involving handwriting. She is the author of the Forensic Handwriting Mysteries (www.claudiaroseseries.com) and The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Handwriting Analysis. Sheila also helped to produce the Handwriting Analyzer software—try it out free at www.writinganalysis.com For more information about handwriting analysis, visit her website: www.sheilalowe.com

The Odd Couple?

Heads You Lose by Lisa Lutz and David Hayward.*

reviewed by Marlyn Beebe.

I was uncertain what to expect when I opened Heads You Lose, especially after I had watched this promotional video.

Lisa Lutz, the author of the popular Spellman Files series, decided she wanted to write a collaborative novel with her old friend (and ex-boyfriend) David Hayward. She was to write the first and all odd-numbered chapters, and he would write the even-numbered ones. Neither of them was allowed to undo a plot development created by the other, so commented on each others' chapters using footnotes. They also wrote each other notes between chapters; these notes are included at the chapter's end. (This is explained in a letter from the Editor at the beginning of the book.)

The novel is the story of orphaned twenty-something siblings Paul and Lacey Hansen who live together in their family home, scraping by on the profits from Paul's pot farm and Lacey's job as a barista.

Late one night, while taking out the trash, Lacey stumbles across a headless corpse. Not knowing who it is (without the head, the body has no face), but not wanting to call the police because of their less-than-legal garden, they decide to dispose of the body, and quietly try to determine the body's identity and why it had been deposited on their property.

Although it might be expected that Lutz's chapters would be written from Lacey's point of view, and Paul's from Hayward's, this is not the case; both write from a third-person viewpoint, and seem to enjoy inserting details to frustrate the other.

Reading the footnotes and the between-chapter messages in which each bemoans this tendency in the other is almost as much fun as the story. Although these asides are distracting, most of the chapters are long enough to absorb the reader's attention (until the next footnote or comment).

For this reader, Heads You Lose was not the type of book that was so absorbing that bedtimes were missed, but it was a light, fun read. And, despite the unusual nature of the relationship between Lutz and Hayward, the messages included in the book might even be helpful to authors (even solitary ones) in terms of the writing process.


*FTC Full Disclosure: Many thanks to LibraryThing Early Reviewers, who sent me an Advance Review Copy.

Just for fun, I'm doing another giveaway. I have one copy of Jasper Fforde's latest Thursday Next book One of Our Thursdays is Missing for one person who comments on this blog post. Deadline to comment is midnight on Tuesday May 3.