B.E. Sanderson's Blog, page 55
May 10, 2017
Rush to Judgement Meter Topped Out
Recently, I saw a news story about a teenager assaulting an older woman - picking her up, dashing her to the ground, and then throwing her in a pool.
This morning, I saw screen capture photos of said assault. To me, it looks like he picks her up in a sort of beat hug and she's holding onto him like she knows him. The next photo looks like he was walking toward the pool when he accidentally dropped her. Afterwards, I assume he picked her up again and threw her in the pool. It didn't look like assault. It looked like pool antics gone wrong.
I didn't watch the video, I only saw the screen captures. Maybe she was fighting and screaming, and the dozens of people around them are accessories.
Or maybe someone somewhere is trying to incite something by making this out to be more than it is. The teen has been charged with assault and could face jail time.
I don't know the truth. I suspect the majority of people out there don't know the truth either. But the 'rush to judgement meter' here is topped out. It seems like it's topped out damn near everywhere - on both sides of the aisle and all along the middle. I'm certainly not immune.
I think that's partly because I don't know what to trust anymore. Certainly not the media. Not Joe Public who is getting their information from said media or secondhand from people who are getting their information from the media. Every piece of information has to go through a series of sieves now.
Including what I say here because my information is only as good as the sources I have chosen to trust. I do my best to do my homework and get it right, but... yah...
So, when you see crime in the news, check your sources. Hell, when you see anything in the news, check your sources. Then check your premises. Then recheck everything.
This morning, I saw screen capture photos of said assault. To me, it looks like he picks her up in a sort of beat hug and she's holding onto him like she knows him. The next photo looks like he was walking toward the pool when he accidentally dropped her. Afterwards, I assume he picked her up again and threw her in the pool. It didn't look like assault. It looked like pool antics gone wrong.
I didn't watch the video, I only saw the screen captures. Maybe she was fighting and screaming, and the dozens of people around them are accessories.
Or maybe someone somewhere is trying to incite something by making this out to be more than it is. The teen has been charged with assault and could face jail time.
I don't know the truth. I suspect the majority of people out there don't know the truth either. But the 'rush to judgement meter' here is topped out. It seems like it's topped out damn near everywhere - on both sides of the aisle and all along the middle. I'm certainly not immune.
I think that's partly because I don't know what to trust anymore. Certainly not the media. Not Joe Public who is getting their information from said media or secondhand from people who are getting their information from the media. Every piece of information has to go through a series of sieves now.
Including what I say here because my information is only as good as the sources I have chosen to trust. I do my best to do my homework and get it right, but... yah...
So, when you see crime in the news, check your sources. Hell, when you see anything in the news, check your sources. Then check your premises. Then recheck everything.
May 7, 2017
Q&A Interview Style About Fertile Ground
So, I thought I'd do a little Q&A today about Fertile Ground, you know, since it's on sale and its one year anniversary is fast approaching...
What is Fertile Ground, anyway?
It's a suspense novel written in the same general world as Dying Embers.
What's that mean?
Well, it means that FG is a book with the main character working for the Serial Crime Investigation Unit of Homeland Security - just like in DE.
So, no Jace?
Nope, no Jace. Although she is mentioned briefly. This book is all about Teri Buchanan.
What made you write this book instead of another book about Jace?
When I finished DE, I felt like I was done with Jace. But I didn't feel like I was done with the SCIU. There are a lot of serial criminals out there.
Serial criminals? Don't you mean serial killers?
Well, there are those - like Emma in DE - but there are other heinous assholes in the world who commit crimes in a serial fashion. Like Adam in Fertile Ground. He's a serial rapist.
What made you think of something like that?
Frankly, I was thinking about what to do next with the SCIU, and I wanted something different. A different criminal who committed serial crimes. Serial rapist came to mind and Adam Wyte popped into my head. And since I created Jace as someone terrified of fire set against a pyromaniac, I had to create a hero who would be face something she truly feared. Thus, Teri Buchanan, a rape survivor heads up the manhunt for a serial rapist.
Rape survivor?
She doesn't like to think of herself as a victim. I didn't want this to be a victim book. Like always, I wanted to write about justice and power over fear.
But, if you use the parallel of Jace's pyrophobia in DE, doesn't that mean Teri is afraid of rapists?
I wouldn't say that. She's pissed. She never saw justice in her own case. Given that, she's more than a little afraid of what she'll do when she's confronted with a rapist. She's afraid her experience will make her likely to take the law into her own hands, and SCIU agents are law-enforcers, not judge and jury. She has to face her fear and do the right thing. Unfortunately for her, other people have other agendas.
Like who? What?
You'll have to read the book and see.
What do you have to say to anyone concerned about the subject matter of Fertile Ground? Rape is an incredibly touchy subject.
All I can say is that I do not actively describe any rape scenes in this book. I'm not into that crap. Creepy stalker scenes? Yep. Murder scenes? Of course. It's what I do. And if you come along for the ride, I promise there is a very satisfying ending. Naturally. This is me we're talking about. The good guys always win. The bad guys always lose and they always get what's coming to them in the end.
I hope you'll pick up a copy of Fertile Ground - on sale now worldwide - and see for yourselves.
Any other questions? I'll answer what I can as long as it doesn't give any spoilers. I hate spoilers.
What is Fertile Ground, anyway?
It's a suspense novel written in the same general world as Dying Embers.
What's that mean?
Well, it means that FG is a book with the main character working for the Serial Crime Investigation Unit of Homeland Security - just like in DE.
So, no Jace?
Nope, no Jace. Although she is mentioned briefly. This book is all about Teri Buchanan.
What made you write this book instead of another book about Jace?
When I finished DE, I felt like I was done with Jace. But I didn't feel like I was done with the SCIU. There are a lot of serial criminals out there.
Serial criminals? Don't you mean serial killers?
Well, there are those - like Emma in DE - but there are other heinous assholes in the world who commit crimes in a serial fashion. Like Adam in Fertile Ground. He's a serial rapist.
What made you think of something like that?
Frankly, I was thinking about what to do next with the SCIU, and I wanted something different. A different criminal who committed serial crimes. Serial rapist came to mind and Adam Wyte popped into my head. And since I created Jace as someone terrified of fire set against a pyromaniac, I had to create a hero who would be face something she truly feared. Thus, Teri Buchanan, a rape survivor heads up the manhunt for a serial rapist.
Rape survivor?
She doesn't like to think of herself as a victim. I didn't want this to be a victim book. Like always, I wanted to write about justice and power over fear.
But, if you use the parallel of Jace's pyrophobia in DE, doesn't that mean Teri is afraid of rapists?
I wouldn't say that. She's pissed. She never saw justice in her own case. Given that, she's more than a little afraid of what she'll do when she's confronted with a rapist. She's afraid her experience will make her likely to take the law into her own hands, and SCIU agents are law-enforcers, not judge and jury. She has to face her fear and do the right thing. Unfortunately for her, other people have other agendas.
Like who? What?
You'll have to read the book and see.
What do you have to say to anyone concerned about the subject matter of Fertile Ground? Rape is an incredibly touchy subject.
All I can say is that I do not actively describe any rape scenes in this book. I'm not into that crap. Creepy stalker scenes? Yep. Murder scenes? Of course. It's what I do. And if you come along for the ride, I promise there is a very satisfying ending. Naturally. This is me we're talking about. The good guys always win. The bad guys always lose and they always get what's coming to them in the end.
I hope you'll pick up a copy of Fertile Ground - on sale now worldwide - and see for yourselves.
Any other questions? I'll answer what I can as long as it doesn't give any spoilers. I hate spoilers.
May 5, 2017
Crime in the News... Yesteryear Edition
Dateline 1979... Not that big a trip in the wayback machine, but definitely not a current event.
A pregnant woman is brutally raped and beaten She loses the baby and sustains a major head injury. After the fact, she cannot remember the attack or the events leading up to it. Months later, she has a flashback of sorts and suddenly, she is certain her husband is the culprit. He stands trial and, based on her testimony, he is found guilty and sentenced to 15 - life.
He maintains his innocence. (But don't they all, right?) He swears he was out getting burgers at the time of her attack and came home to find her afterwards. He says he saw a man getting into a vehicle and leaving the area when he got home from his burger run. None of that matters because his wife swears he's the one who attacked her.
Flash forward to 1996 when DNA technology was in its infancy but already becoming a major tool in crime investigation. They test the rape kit from the attack. The DNA matches... a serial rapist who had been hunting that area during the time of her attack and is in prison for raping and attacking other women. After 16 years in prison, the husband is exonerated.
Three years later, he is awarded over $600K for his wrongful imprisonment. Two months after that, he settles a lawsuit with his now ex-wife who is still sure he had some measure of responsibility in the death of their baby.
Umm... yeah. There are so many things wrong with this, I'm not sure where to begin.
Oh, I get why he was convicted. Kind of. She said he did it. She, who had sustained brain damage during the attack, giving her all the joys that come with that shit, took the stand and pointed at him. It should've been a defense attorney's field day. In the couple occasions where I might've been called upon to testify for the prosecution, I worried that some defense attorney might bring up my own brain injury as a weapon to use against my testimony. In her case, I suspect someone was helping plant those memories in her shattered head.
Plus, back in 1980, they only had blood type to go on with regard to evidence. He had O+, the attacker had O+. (The most common blood type, btw.) Bingo bango bongo, he's guilty. Except when he isn't.
And I get why he settled the lawsuit. After all both he and she had been through, he didn't want to drag them both through a court battle. Hell, he probably feels some measure of displaced guilt because if he hadn't left her home alone that night, the whole thing might not have happened.
I don't get why she brought the lawsuit in the first place. Except he'd just come into a boatload of money. Which is kind of sick, in my opinion. Using the tragedy of all that occurred to squeeze cash out of a man who'd already paid for something he didn't do with 16 years of his life. Feh.
Anyway, as people (as in The Innocence Project) look into more and more of these older crimes using newer technology, we're seeing more and more cases get overturned. Cases that today would never end in a guilty verdict. And one hopes that as the old crimes age and disappear, we'll stop seeing this kind of miscarriage of justice. Technology is an awesome thing.
A pregnant woman is brutally raped and beaten She loses the baby and sustains a major head injury. After the fact, she cannot remember the attack or the events leading up to it. Months later, she has a flashback of sorts and suddenly, she is certain her husband is the culprit. He stands trial and, based on her testimony, he is found guilty and sentenced to 15 - life.
He maintains his innocence. (But don't they all, right?) He swears he was out getting burgers at the time of her attack and came home to find her afterwards. He says he saw a man getting into a vehicle and leaving the area when he got home from his burger run. None of that matters because his wife swears he's the one who attacked her.
Flash forward to 1996 when DNA technology was in its infancy but already becoming a major tool in crime investigation. They test the rape kit from the attack. The DNA matches... a serial rapist who had been hunting that area during the time of her attack and is in prison for raping and attacking other women. After 16 years in prison, the husband is exonerated.
Three years later, he is awarded over $600K for his wrongful imprisonment. Two months after that, he settles a lawsuit with his now ex-wife who is still sure he had some measure of responsibility in the death of their baby.
Umm... yeah. There are so many things wrong with this, I'm not sure where to begin.
Oh, I get why he was convicted. Kind of. She said he did it. She, who had sustained brain damage during the attack, giving her all the joys that come with that shit, took the stand and pointed at him. It should've been a defense attorney's field day. In the couple occasions where I might've been called upon to testify for the prosecution, I worried that some defense attorney might bring up my own brain injury as a weapon to use against my testimony. In her case, I suspect someone was helping plant those memories in her shattered head.
Plus, back in 1980, they only had blood type to go on with regard to evidence. He had O+, the attacker had O+. (The most common blood type, btw.) Bingo bango bongo, he's guilty. Except when he isn't.
And I get why he settled the lawsuit. After all both he and she had been through, he didn't want to drag them both through a court battle. Hell, he probably feels some measure of displaced guilt because if he hadn't left her home alone that night, the whole thing might not have happened.
I don't get why she brought the lawsuit in the first place. Except he'd just come into a boatload of money. Which is kind of sick, in my opinion. Using the tragedy of all that occurred to squeeze cash out of a man who'd already paid for something he didn't do with 16 years of his life. Feh.
Anyway, as people (as in The Innocence Project) look into more and more of these older crimes using newer technology, we're seeing more and more cases get overturned. Cases that today would never end in a guilty verdict. And one hopes that as the old crimes age and disappear, we'll stop seeing this kind of miscarriage of justice. Technology is an awesome thing.
May 3, 2017
Fertile Ground Snippet and Sale
Good morning, folks! Since Fertile Ground is on sale right now, I thought I'd share a little bit of it. Enjoy!
ONE
The woman strolled past Adam toward the produce aisle, the essence of her fertility wafting through the air like a perfume. He waited until she stopped to squeeze the cantaloupes before he followed. The fruit she fondled couldn’t be nearly as ripe as she was, but by all appearances, the melons were more attractive. Today she wore her hair pulled back in a tight, unflattering ponytail, and her baggy clothing hid her as well as any camouflage. But he saw the female for what she was. A perfect vessel he’d spent weeks carefully choosing. Whether in this butt-ugly guise or when he’d first seen the girl with a simple dress flowing around those shapely bare legs, the essence of her femininity called to him. He wouldn’t need to actually look at her. Not for long, anyway. Finding these women attractive had never been a requirement. He only needed to get inside and plant his seed. Then he could be done with her. For now.Nine months down the road, she’d bear a child in his image. They all did. And that’s all that mattered.Seven weeks ago this girl had simply been another prey animal passing through his hunting grounds. She’d claimed his notice then, but he’d already had a target in mind. Since then, he had insured the other girl would be draped over the porcelain, proving that her womb bore his fruit. Time to move on to this next vessel.When the brunette squeezed a tomato to test its ripeness, he smiled. Even as dedicated to his mission as Adam was, he could spare a moment to appreciate the irony. Most likely the girl didn’t possess the self-awareness to know how ripe her own body had become. Fertile ground. Like the others. And exactly like the others, she couldn’t be bothered to keep track of her cycles. Women never watched for the signs. They never bothered to understand God’s rhythm or His plan for the female of the human bond.Only Adam understood the Lord’s intentions.“Be fruitful and multiply,” he said on a whisper of breath as the girl painstakingly chose a half dozen apples, placed them carefully into a bag, and gently set it in her cart. Those meticulous hands would someday hold his son.A soft smile crept over his lips as he imagined his boy’s sturdy legs taking their first steps. The toddler’s smile of too-few teeth would express the initial joy of becoming a man and leaving the life of an animal behind.For the first few years, children were little more than the monkeys some claimed mankind descended from. Adam knew better. The beginning of a man’s life amounted to a test. He could choose to crawl like an animal or not. Walking upright signified the passage from base creature into the greater ideals of God’s plan.Adam’s sons would know their true place in the world. The women could raise them through those monkey years. Time enough to claim them once they joined the human race. Once they became men.“Excuse me.” The shy voice was so close he jumped. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”He steeled himself against the annoyance welling up. Pasting on a deprecating smile, he tilted his head. “Not a problem. I was trying to decide if I want salad for dinner tonight.”“It’s just that… Do I know you from somewhere?”This wasn’t the first member of his herd to recognize him. Sometimes, he let them stumble across him on purpose. It made the hunt so much more exciting. Gazing at her carefully, he pretended to try and place her face. “Were you at the protest on campus a couple months ago?”Her lush mouth split into a wide smile filled with the perfect teeth he hoped were natural. “Right. Over at Eastern. I figured that was you. Funny running into you here.”“I was thinking that exact thing myself.” Enough people populated the metro-Detroit area they never would’ve crossed paths accidentally, but letting her think his appearance was a coincidence or fate played into his plans.“Do you live near here, too?” Her green eyes narrowed under sculpted eyebrows. “Weird that I haven’t seen you before.”“I travel around the area for work. I happened to be driving by on my way east, saw this place, and got the idea to grab something for dinner.” The words dropped smoothly from his mouth. He’d spoken the same lies too many times before for them to come out as anything but natural. Of course, it helped that they weren’t total falsehoods. He did travel for work and he was hungry. “I live a couple blocks from here,” she said, nodding in the general direction of her apartment. He pasted a surprised look on his face, as if he hadn’t spent the previous night in her backyard watching her.“Small world.” He grabbed a tomato and a bag of lettuce. “Well. Gotta get back on the road. It was nice running into you.”“Sure. Next time you’re in the area, look me up.” Her words sounded friendly enough, but he knew she didn’t want to see him again. None of them wanted to. But they all did. TWO
A baby wailed its displeasure, jerking Agent Teri Buchanan upright and causing her to hammer both shins on the seat in front of her. The businessman there craned his head around to glare at the source of his discomfort. She grimaced back. Nothing like a red-eye flight to bring out the best in people. Nothing like a lack of coffee to bring out the worst in Teri. Still, she must’ve slept. And so deeply that she’d missed the pilot’s standard ‘we’re beginning our descent’ speech. The problem was she didn’t feel the slightest bit rested. Wired, maybe. Keyed-up, definitely. Popping a hard candy into her mouth, she readied herself for her first arrival into Detroit. She certainly didn’t need to wade through crowds in a strange airport with her ears plugged from air pressure. That kind of headache she could live without, especially if she wanted to make a good impression on her first day in a new assignment.Her watch said 5:42 when the plane landed. The timepiece, along with the rest of her, was still on Dallas time. Adding an hour, she did a little more math and calculated she had barely enough time to make it to her new office before the conference call from Director Walter Graham. She’d seen the man on Friday, for petesakes, but a text the day before her Monday flight made it clear he wanted her in this meeting.The question was ‘why?’“I really appreciate your assistance with staffing this branch, Teri,” he’d said. He acted like she didn’t have an ulterior motive for getting the flock out of Texas. They both pretended the move had only been to improve her skills and advance her career. When she thanked him, neither delved too deeply into her gratitude. Teri had her reasons. She needed to get away from Dallas. If only to get out from under the shadow of Graham’s golden girl, Jace Douglas, and shine in an environment all her own. If she had to hear about how Jace had brought down the car-be-que killer one more time, she might scream. If she had to watch the woman, who had everything Teri could never have, parade around the office doing everything right, she’d implode. Hell, the woman had even come back from the case with a new partner—both personally and professionally.She’d hate the woman if Jace wasn’t so damn good at her job. What she couldn’t afford to admit, even to herself, was that Jace had nothing to do with her need to transfer. Teri was running from the weight of her past. And putting as much distance as she could between herself and him.Even as she pushed herself out of her too-small airplane seat and tugged her carry-on from the overhead compartment, she could still hear his breathy grunts in her ear. She could feel his weight upon her—A wayward elbow to her ribs pulled her back into focus. If she allowed herself to fall into old memories best left to rot, she’d never get the hell off the flying sausage casing. Following the sea of lemmings through the terminal, she made it to baggage claim ahead of her belongings. One of her bags tumbled out onto the conveyor before too long. The other had to have been the last bag unloaded from the plane, and it looked like a gorilla had used it for a trampoline. Cursing her dumb luck and lack of time, she made a mental note to harass the airline later and scurried for the taxi area. Not long after, she slid into the back of a cab and headed east toward the city. The Detroit office, according to her orientation packet, wasn’t actually in the city proper. It was tucked into a suburban industrial park on the western outskirts of the metropolis. That suited her fine. From what she’d heard, Detroit wasn’t the safest of cities to live or work in. Exactly the sort of place to put a new branch of the S.C.I.U., though.A quick glance at her compact showed the ravages of red-eye travel. Her shoulder-length hair had taken on a luster that leaned more toward dirty-dishwater than the ash-blonde she paid good money for. The bags under her eyes were only slightly less heavy than her luggage. And at some point, her skin had lost the rosy-glow one would hope for on the first day at a new job. Pawing through her purse like a raccoon after crayfish, she located what few cosmetics the TSA would allow through to the gates and did her best to recreate Agent Teri Buchanan of the Serial Crimes Investigation Unit. Another glance in the mirror told her the effort was pointless. She looked more like the witness to a horrible crime than a woman who investigated them.The taxi pulled in front of the Detroit branch of the S.C.I.U. with five minutes to spare. Not enough time for her to find her office and settle in, but hopefully enough to secure a cup of strong coffee before facing the Director. Graham wasn’t exactly a hard-ass to work for, but she didn’t want to push the boundaries by straggling in all bleary-eyed and caffeine-deprived.
ONE
The woman strolled past Adam toward the produce aisle, the essence of her fertility wafting through the air like a perfume. He waited until she stopped to squeeze the cantaloupes before he followed. The fruit she fondled couldn’t be nearly as ripe as she was, but by all appearances, the melons were more attractive. Today she wore her hair pulled back in a tight, unflattering ponytail, and her baggy clothing hid her as well as any camouflage. But he saw the female for what she was. A perfect vessel he’d spent weeks carefully choosing. Whether in this butt-ugly guise or when he’d first seen the girl with a simple dress flowing around those shapely bare legs, the essence of her femininity called to him. He wouldn’t need to actually look at her. Not for long, anyway. Finding these women attractive had never been a requirement. He only needed to get inside and plant his seed. Then he could be done with her. For now.Nine months down the road, she’d bear a child in his image. They all did. And that’s all that mattered.Seven weeks ago this girl had simply been another prey animal passing through his hunting grounds. She’d claimed his notice then, but he’d already had a target in mind. Since then, he had insured the other girl would be draped over the porcelain, proving that her womb bore his fruit. Time to move on to this next vessel.When the brunette squeezed a tomato to test its ripeness, he smiled. Even as dedicated to his mission as Adam was, he could spare a moment to appreciate the irony. Most likely the girl didn’t possess the self-awareness to know how ripe her own body had become. Fertile ground. Like the others. And exactly like the others, she couldn’t be bothered to keep track of her cycles. Women never watched for the signs. They never bothered to understand God’s rhythm or His plan for the female of the human bond.Only Adam understood the Lord’s intentions.“Be fruitful and multiply,” he said on a whisper of breath as the girl painstakingly chose a half dozen apples, placed them carefully into a bag, and gently set it in her cart. Those meticulous hands would someday hold his son.A soft smile crept over his lips as he imagined his boy’s sturdy legs taking their first steps. The toddler’s smile of too-few teeth would express the initial joy of becoming a man and leaving the life of an animal behind.For the first few years, children were little more than the monkeys some claimed mankind descended from. Adam knew better. The beginning of a man’s life amounted to a test. He could choose to crawl like an animal or not. Walking upright signified the passage from base creature into the greater ideals of God’s plan.Adam’s sons would know their true place in the world. The women could raise them through those monkey years. Time enough to claim them once they joined the human race. Once they became men.“Excuse me.” The shy voice was so close he jumped. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”He steeled himself against the annoyance welling up. Pasting on a deprecating smile, he tilted his head. “Not a problem. I was trying to decide if I want salad for dinner tonight.”“It’s just that… Do I know you from somewhere?”This wasn’t the first member of his herd to recognize him. Sometimes, he let them stumble across him on purpose. It made the hunt so much more exciting. Gazing at her carefully, he pretended to try and place her face. “Were you at the protest on campus a couple months ago?”Her lush mouth split into a wide smile filled with the perfect teeth he hoped were natural. “Right. Over at Eastern. I figured that was you. Funny running into you here.”“I was thinking that exact thing myself.” Enough people populated the metro-Detroit area they never would’ve crossed paths accidentally, but letting her think his appearance was a coincidence or fate played into his plans.“Do you live near here, too?” Her green eyes narrowed under sculpted eyebrows. “Weird that I haven’t seen you before.”“I travel around the area for work. I happened to be driving by on my way east, saw this place, and got the idea to grab something for dinner.” The words dropped smoothly from his mouth. He’d spoken the same lies too many times before for them to come out as anything but natural. Of course, it helped that they weren’t total falsehoods. He did travel for work and he was hungry. “I live a couple blocks from here,” she said, nodding in the general direction of her apartment. He pasted a surprised look on his face, as if he hadn’t spent the previous night in her backyard watching her.“Small world.” He grabbed a tomato and a bag of lettuce. “Well. Gotta get back on the road. It was nice running into you.”“Sure. Next time you’re in the area, look me up.” Her words sounded friendly enough, but he knew she didn’t want to see him again. None of them wanted to. But they all did. TWO
A baby wailed its displeasure, jerking Agent Teri Buchanan upright and causing her to hammer both shins on the seat in front of her. The businessman there craned his head around to glare at the source of his discomfort. She grimaced back. Nothing like a red-eye flight to bring out the best in people. Nothing like a lack of coffee to bring out the worst in Teri. Still, she must’ve slept. And so deeply that she’d missed the pilot’s standard ‘we’re beginning our descent’ speech. The problem was she didn’t feel the slightest bit rested. Wired, maybe. Keyed-up, definitely. Popping a hard candy into her mouth, she readied herself for her first arrival into Detroit. She certainly didn’t need to wade through crowds in a strange airport with her ears plugged from air pressure. That kind of headache she could live without, especially if she wanted to make a good impression on her first day in a new assignment.Her watch said 5:42 when the plane landed. The timepiece, along with the rest of her, was still on Dallas time. Adding an hour, she did a little more math and calculated she had barely enough time to make it to her new office before the conference call from Director Walter Graham. She’d seen the man on Friday, for petesakes, but a text the day before her Monday flight made it clear he wanted her in this meeting.The question was ‘why?’“I really appreciate your assistance with staffing this branch, Teri,” he’d said. He acted like she didn’t have an ulterior motive for getting the flock out of Texas. They both pretended the move had only been to improve her skills and advance her career. When she thanked him, neither delved too deeply into her gratitude. Teri had her reasons. She needed to get away from Dallas. If only to get out from under the shadow of Graham’s golden girl, Jace Douglas, and shine in an environment all her own. If she had to hear about how Jace had brought down the car-be-que killer one more time, she might scream. If she had to watch the woman, who had everything Teri could never have, parade around the office doing everything right, she’d implode. Hell, the woman had even come back from the case with a new partner—both personally and professionally.She’d hate the woman if Jace wasn’t so damn good at her job. What she couldn’t afford to admit, even to herself, was that Jace had nothing to do with her need to transfer. Teri was running from the weight of her past. And putting as much distance as she could between herself and him.Even as she pushed herself out of her too-small airplane seat and tugged her carry-on from the overhead compartment, she could still hear his breathy grunts in her ear. She could feel his weight upon her—A wayward elbow to her ribs pulled her back into focus. If she allowed herself to fall into old memories best left to rot, she’d never get the hell off the flying sausage casing. Following the sea of lemmings through the terminal, she made it to baggage claim ahead of her belongings. One of her bags tumbled out onto the conveyor before too long. The other had to have been the last bag unloaded from the plane, and it looked like a gorilla had used it for a trampoline. Cursing her dumb luck and lack of time, she made a mental note to harass the airline later and scurried for the taxi area. Not long after, she slid into the back of a cab and headed east toward the city. The Detroit office, according to her orientation packet, wasn’t actually in the city proper. It was tucked into a suburban industrial park on the western outskirts of the metropolis. That suited her fine. From what she’d heard, Detroit wasn’t the safest of cities to live or work in. Exactly the sort of place to put a new branch of the S.C.I.U., though.A quick glance at her compact showed the ravages of red-eye travel. Her shoulder-length hair had taken on a luster that leaned more toward dirty-dishwater than the ash-blonde she paid good money for. The bags under her eyes were only slightly less heavy than her luggage. And at some point, her skin had lost the rosy-glow one would hope for on the first day at a new job. Pawing through her purse like a raccoon after crayfish, she located what few cosmetics the TSA would allow through to the gates and did her best to recreate Agent Teri Buchanan of the Serial Crimes Investigation Unit. Another glance in the mirror told her the effort was pointless. She looked more like the witness to a horrible crime than a woman who investigated them.The taxi pulled in front of the Detroit branch of the S.C.I.U. with five minutes to spare. Not enough time for her to find her office and settle in, but hopefully enough to secure a cup of strong coffee before facing the Director. Graham wasn’t exactly a hard-ass to work for, but she didn’t want to push the boundaries by straggling in all bleary-eyed and caffeine-deprived.
April 30, 2017
Anniversary / Birthday Sale!
May is the month that holds both my birthday and my anniversary, but that's not what I mean. It's also the one year anniversary / birthday for my book Fertile Ground. As such, I decided to make it available for only 99cents here in the US, and whatever that might translate to worldwide. This is not a Kindle Countdown Deal, so yeah, it's a price drop across the board. Whatever Amazon site you call home will have a discounted price.
Thru May 14th, which is the actual birthday for Fertile Ground, you can get this for a big discount. Woohoo!
Since I am horrible at planning, this is, of course, a last minute thing. Tada! Surprise! Happy Birthday! May Day, May Day, May Day!
Wait, scratch that... this is a happy occasion. Tell your friends, tell your family, tell acquaintances and strangers.
And if you enjoy the read, please leave a review. Poor thing only has one here and one in the UK and they're kind of lonely.
Thru May 14th, which is the actual birthday for Fertile Ground, you can get this for a big discount. Woohoo!
Since I am horrible at planning, this is, of course, a last minute thing. Tada! Surprise! Happy Birthday! May Day, May Day, May Day!
Wait, scratch that... this is a happy occasion. Tell your friends, tell your family, tell acquaintances and strangers.
And if you enjoy the read, please leave a review. Poor thing only has one here and one in the UK and they're kind of lonely.
April 28, 2017
Crime in the News...
In today's crime news...
A Delaware state trooper was murdered earlier this week. This morning, his killer came out of the hole where he was hiding, tried firing on the officers who had his hole surrounded, and ended up dead. Glad he took that way out instead of sitting in jail for decades. http://www.capitalgazette.com/bowie_b...
Arkansas executes its fourth criminal in a week. Should've been eight, in my opinion. Anyway, people seem to be waving their arms all over the place because he experienced convulsions before he died. Boo fuckin' hoo. http://www.foxnews.com/us/2017/04/28/...
In Michigan, a group of butchers calling themselves doctors have been arrested for mutilating little girls' private parts in the name of their religion. May they rot in hell. http://www.cnn.com/2017/04/26/health/...
A little, 1-yr old girl who was reported missing was actually dead inside the 'home' in Illinois where she lived with her family and a bunch of other people. I get the feeling they made it sound like she'd just wandered off, but she'd only just learned to walk. She was stuffed inside a couch in the house. (I put quotes around home up there because it was a shithole where a bunch of people were squatting.) http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/lo...
That's it for me for right now. Searching crime is kind of depressing.
A Delaware state trooper was murdered earlier this week. This morning, his killer came out of the hole where he was hiding, tried firing on the officers who had his hole surrounded, and ended up dead. Glad he took that way out instead of sitting in jail for decades. http://www.capitalgazette.com/bowie_b...
Arkansas executes its fourth criminal in a week. Should've been eight, in my opinion. Anyway, people seem to be waving their arms all over the place because he experienced convulsions before he died. Boo fuckin' hoo. http://www.foxnews.com/us/2017/04/28/...
In Michigan, a group of butchers calling themselves doctors have been arrested for mutilating little girls' private parts in the name of their religion. May they rot in hell. http://www.cnn.com/2017/04/26/health/...
A little, 1-yr old girl who was reported missing was actually dead inside the 'home' in Illinois where she lived with her family and a bunch of other people. I get the feeling they made it sound like she'd just wandered off, but she'd only just learned to walk. She was stuffed inside a couch in the house. (I put quotes around home up there because it was a shithole where a bunch of people were squatting.) http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/lo...
That's it for me for right now. Searching crime is kind of depressing.
April 23, 2017
Crime in the News... Or Not So Much
Yesterday I heard about a horrific story being in the news. Two men lured a 22 yr old autistic woman into their home where they held her against her will, raped her, and beat her for 2-3 days.
I say I heard about it being in the news rather than saying I heard it from the news or directly in the news because I heard about it third hand. So I searched the internet for more information and found it on a local news station's site.
Now, before we go much further, I'll admit that I stopped following local news back in December. Well, except for really local, as in rural SWMO, news. The big network stations? Nuh-uh. Too much spin and not enough facts. Instead, I watch the headlines in my FB newsfeed every day and if I see something that interests me, I google for more info. I also sometimes go directly to google and type 'news' into the search and then click on News. It's a long way around, but I find more reliable sources that way.
So, anyway, back to this horrible story. It wasn't in the newsfeed. At all. I didn't see it at any of the major news networks when I searched for it after hearing about it third hand. One story on the NBC affiliate out of Springfield.
Why?
Well, it could be because another story about two Hispanic men raping and beating a woman harshes the narrative they're trying to push - because one of the men was an illegal alien. Sadly, it could be because shit like this happens so often in our country these days that it's not worthy of being on national news. (Although why anyone with the last name of Jenner/Kardashian or with a speck of celebrity is news and not this is beyond me.) It could even be that the news - and I use that word loosely these days - feels like they have more important things to spin for the American public than one autistic chick getting brutalized by two assholes over the course of a weekend.
Or maybe I really am living in a cave. Have any of you heard this news story?
Well, anyway, apparently they picked the wrong autistic girl because this one still had the presence of mind to tell the police exactly what had been done to her - albeit through a child advocate since she reportedly has the mind of a 9 yr old. The illegal is being held without bond and the other one is looking at $150,000 bond. Fry 'em both, I say.
But that's me.
I say I heard about it being in the news rather than saying I heard it from the news or directly in the news because I heard about it third hand. So I searched the internet for more information and found it on a local news station's site.
Now, before we go much further, I'll admit that I stopped following local news back in December. Well, except for really local, as in rural SWMO, news. The big network stations? Nuh-uh. Too much spin and not enough facts. Instead, I watch the headlines in my FB newsfeed every day and if I see something that interests me, I google for more info. I also sometimes go directly to google and type 'news' into the search and then click on News. It's a long way around, but I find more reliable sources that way.
So, anyway, back to this horrible story. It wasn't in the newsfeed. At all. I didn't see it at any of the major news networks when I searched for it after hearing about it third hand. One story on the NBC affiliate out of Springfield.
Why?
Well, it could be because another story about two Hispanic men raping and beating a woman harshes the narrative they're trying to push - because one of the men was an illegal alien. Sadly, it could be because shit like this happens so often in our country these days that it's not worthy of being on national news. (Although why anyone with the last name of Jenner/Kardashian or with a speck of celebrity is news and not this is beyond me.) It could even be that the news - and I use that word loosely these days - feels like they have more important things to spin for the American public than one autistic chick getting brutalized by two assholes over the course of a weekend.
Or maybe I really am living in a cave. Have any of you heard this news story?
Well, anyway, apparently they picked the wrong autistic girl because this one still had the presence of mind to tell the police exactly what had been done to her - albeit through a child advocate since she reportedly has the mind of a 9 yr old. The illegal is being held without bond and the other one is looking at $150,000 bond. Fry 'em both, I say.
But that's me.
April 19, 2017
I'm Not Excited
So, it's been a week since I posted here. One would think that since I had a new release on the 7th that I would be all SQUEE and in your face and confetti, but it didn't happen.
Natural Causes is my 8th book. When I published Dying Embers back in February of '15, I was all of the squeeing and celebrating. Now? Not so much.
I was talking about this the other night with Hubs. When he finished a long project at his work, he didn't squee and celebrate. It was finished and he moved onto the next project. It was his job. Writing is my job. You do your job, you get it done, you move on to the next bit of work.
I know some other authors celebrate every book. That's cool. It's just not me.
The problem, I guess, comes when I wonder 'if I don't celebrate it, will readers?' If I'm not excited about a book release, how will I ever get readers excited about it? I would hope they'd be excited because it something fresh and new for them. It's neither fresh nor new for me. I could try to fake it, but... yeah, that's just not me. My FB post after I learned Natural Causes was available in the Amazon store? "Well, it's live." with a link.
Yeah, that was anti-climactic. But that's me.
Push a big rock up a hill. Get it all the way to the top. Walk back down the hill and starting pushing the next one up. Woo. No hoopla. No fanfare. (At least I'm not Sisyphus and the rock doesn't roll back down. That would suck.)
The satisfaction is in getting the work done. But, when you think about it, it's never really done. There's just more work.
Wow, that sounded depressing. It wasn't meant that way. I love the work. If I didn't, I wouldn't put up with the crap. I could easily get a job outside the house. Or I could just fritter away all my time and not worry about sales and marketing and editing and cover art and... you get the gist. The satisfaction then, in reality, is in completing the book and getting it out there for readers to read. And in knowing there's another book waiting to go through the process again. I think that's pretty exciting.
Hopefully, when you see I put another book out, you get excited and buy it. Sales excite me. Woohoo.
Natural Causes is my 8th book. When I published Dying Embers back in February of '15, I was all of the squeeing and celebrating. Now? Not so much.
I was talking about this the other night with Hubs. When he finished a long project at his work, he didn't squee and celebrate. It was finished and he moved onto the next project. It was his job. Writing is my job. You do your job, you get it done, you move on to the next bit of work.
I know some other authors celebrate every book. That's cool. It's just not me.
The problem, I guess, comes when I wonder 'if I don't celebrate it, will readers?' If I'm not excited about a book release, how will I ever get readers excited about it? I would hope they'd be excited because it something fresh and new for them. It's neither fresh nor new for me. I could try to fake it, but... yeah, that's just not me. My FB post after I learned Natural Causes was available in the Amazon store? "Well, it's live." with a link.
Yeah, that was anti-climactic. But that's me.
Push a big rock up a hill. Get it all the way to the top. Walk back down the hill and starting pushing the next one up. Woo. No hoopla. No fanfare. (At least I'm not Sisyphus and the rock doesn't roll back down. That would suck.)
The satisfaction is in getting the work done. But, when you think about it, it's never really done. There's just more work.
Wow, that sounded depressing. It wasn't meant that way. I love the work. If I didn't, I wouldn't put up with the crap. I could easily get a job outside the house. Or I could just fritter away all my time and not worry about sales and marketing and editing and cover art and... you get the gist. The satisfaction then, in reality, is in completing the book and getting it out there for readers to read. And in knowing there's another book waiting to go through the process again. I think that's pretty exciting.
Hopefully, when you see I put another book out, you get excited and buy it. Sales excite me. Woohoo.
April 12, 2017
For What It's Worth
I was reading a news story this morning about the suspect in a triple homicide jumping off the 4th floor of the court building to his death. They're thinking it might be suicide. I'm thinking it's probably a cause for the victims' families to celebrate. And a load off the taxpayers who would have to foot the bill for the trial and incarceration of this asshole*.
I was watching Homicide Hunter a while back. The dude obviously did it, but at the end, he got off. (One of the rare occasions when one of Joe's cases did end in a guilty verdict.) Don't remember how. Probably something to do with liberal Colorado. All I know was I was pissed off. Until... as a footnote at the end of the show, they told how the suspect had moved to New York City after the trial and months later someone pushed him out a 10th story window to his death. Woohoo. Splat. And that made me happy.
I'm not bloodthirtsy, per se. I just believe in justice.
And another thing... What is it with these assholes who are suicidal, so they kill their entire families before they kill themselves?? Seriously. If you want to die, do so and decrease the asshole population. Don't take out other people. I even heard about one heinous asshole who shot his dog before he killed himself. Dude, what did the dog do to deserve that shit? Sick freaks.
Then we were watching Murder Calls the other day. A serial killer in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area was murdering women and then calling in to the police. He'd call and ask to be caught. He'd say he wanted to die. All in this whiny voice. They called him The Weepy Voiced Killer. (Lame, right?) Anyway, he would always hang up without giving any indication where he was or how to find him. Asshole. They did eventually get the squirrelly little fucker, but not before he killed several women. No clue why. Something about them wearing red. No clue. He got 40 years - again, I assume because of liberal Minnesota or some such crap. He died in prison in 1998, but if cancer hadn't gotten him, he would've been a free man in six years. Think he would've been reformed? Umm, right. He would've been old, but old people aren't incapable of murder.
What do you think?
*Provided he actually did it, of course. If not, there's a murderer still running around out there.
I was watching Homicide Hunter a while back. The dude obviously did it, but at the end, he got off. (One of the rare occasions when one of Joe's cases did end in a guilty verdict.) Don't remember how. Probably something to do with liberal Colorado. All I know was I was pissed off. Until... as a footnote at the end of the show, they told how the suspect had moved to New York City after the trial and months later someone pushed him out a 10th story window to his death. Woohoo. Splat. And that made me happy.
I'm not bloodthirtsy, per se. I just believe in justice.
And another thing... What is it with these assholes who are suicidal, so they kill their entire families before they kill themselves?? Seriously. If you want to die, do so and decrease the asshole population. Don't take out other people. I even heard about one heinous asshole who shot his dog before he killed himself. Dude, what did the dog do to deserve that shit? Sick freaks.
Then we were watching Murder Calls the other day. A serial killer in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area was murdering women and then calling in to the police. He'd call and ask to be caught. He'd say he wanted to die. All in this whiny voice. They called him The Weepy Voiced Killer. (Lame, right?) Anyway, he would always hang up without giving any indication where he was or how to find him. Asshole. They did eventually get the squirrelly little fucker, but not before he killed several women. No clue why. Something about them wearing red. No clue. He got 40 years - again, I assume because of liberal Minnesota or some such crap. He died in prison in 1998, but if cancer hadn't gotten him, he would've been a free man in six years. Think he would've been reformed? Umm, right. He would've been old, but old people aren't incapable of murder.
What do you think?
*Provided he actually did it, of course. If not, there's a murderer still running around out there.
April 10, 2017
New Release and a Sale!
The long awaited sequel to Accidental Death has finally arrived. (Well, I was waiting for it for a long time anyway.) Natural Causes is now live across the board on Amazon (check your local listings or go here for English speaking Amazon affiliate countries). To celebrate, I made Accidental Death a Kindle Countdown Deal. It's available now thru Saturday for the low low price of 99c (or .99p in the UK).
And, as always, my books are all available for the Kindle Unlimited program which means they're free for subscribers (well, free after you pay you subscription fee, of course).
You don't need to read Accidental Death to understand what's going on in Natural Causes but, naturally, it helps. See where I started Dennis's story, how he met Jillian, and the reason Dennis has got some baggage this time around.
Loads of fun for everyone. Enjoy!
