Ron D. Voigts's Blog, page 10

Hey, Ruby. What have you been doing?

This week I present a cut from Claws of the Griffin .  Sherrif Stacey Goodnight has gone out to serve Ben Holloway an eviction, but finds he's not home. But she does get an unexpected surprise.



     The air was peculiarly quiet. Clucking from the chickens and the car’s door closing seemed to be the only thing to disturb the still atmosphere. Stacey swallowed hard and stepped closer to the porch. Drawn shades, yellowed over time, hung across the front windows. The front door hung open to a black rectangle of unknown.
     “Anyone home?” Stacey called.
     She stepped up on the porch, testing rotting boards that creaked with each footfall, and peered through the doorway. Light filtered inside from a back window, casting shadows and dimly illuminating the interior. A haze of dust hung in the air. Two chairs sat at a wood table. In the corner was an armchair covered with a quilt and next to it, a stack of newspapers. A flowerpot lay on its side, the dirt spilled out, and the plant long dead.
     “Hello,” Stacey said, the last syllable sounding like a musical note held for a full measure, and tilted her head from side to side trying to glimpse any movement or catch a sound.
     Suddenly, she sensed someone behind her. Her heart leaped to her throat, and she turned slowly.
     Ruby stood at the foot of the porch steps. Her eyes were wild and swollen, her hair tangled and knotted. In her right hand, she held a knife. Dark visceral material clung to the fingers of her left hand. Blood stained the front of her dress.
     “Hey, Ruby,” Stacey said, keeping an eye on the knife. “What have you been doing?”
For a limited time Claws of the Griffin is down to 99 cents on Kindle.

Lines From Famous Detectives Quiz

I took these from movies, TV and books. My apology if I got something wrong.  See if you can match them up. The first one should be easy.
Famous line...1. You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear.
2. Certainment, this is the most difficult moment of my career. To solve the crime... that does not exist.
3. My wife says I'm the second smartest. She claims there are 80 guys tied for first.
4. There are three things you can never have enough of in life, Lieutenant: chocolate, friends and the theatre.
5. Don't be too sure I'm as crooked as I'm supposed to be.
6. What you see is nothing. I got a Balinese dancing girl tattooed across my chest.
7. She told me if I dropped her off at the bus station, I could forget her. But if she didn't make it, she said, "Remember me."
8. Joy in heart more desirable than bullet.
9. Murder is never funny.
10. One more murder may be one too many.
 Detective...A. Lieutenant Columbo
B. Charlie Chan
C. Shelock Holmes
D. Sam Spade
E. Hercule Poirot
F. Phillip Marlowe
G. Jane Marple
H. Jessica Fletcher
I. Perry Mason
J. Mike Hammer
Answers...
2. E
3. A
4. H
5. D
6. F
7. J
8. B
9. I
10.G

Why Writing Is Like Swiss Cheese

Writing can be painful; it can be exciting.  I pass through the gamut of emotion, from frustration to elation.  At times I want to give up and find a new outlet for my creativity. Maybe oil painting or playing the piano. Or I can give up all together and watch mindless TV.
My latest project starts out great. The words pour out. The scenes develop. I throw out some chapters to my writer friends and get lots of praise.
Then comes the wall. I know where I want to go, but getting there becomes a struggle. Every word I write comes with heartache and disappointment. Sentences form between long bouts of inactivity. I feel like I’m building a railroad from ten different directions, and the tracks don’t come anywhere close to meeting in the middle.
When I finally get through the first draft, the thing looks like Swiss cheese. I’ve created many holes and don’t know how to fill them. Everything comes up short of where I want to be. Maybe pottery can be fulfilling. I’ll make ashtrays for Christmas presents.
Then something clicks. A new idea occurs.  Missing scenes come to me.  The words pour out faster than I can type. The muse has returned, and I know I’ll complete another novel.
I guess making origami birds will have to wait.

Death by Shopping Cart

Detective Shawn Caramel, known as “Chewy” to his friends, stared down at the body on the floor at the grocery store entrance.  He looked at the overturned shopping cart and shook his head. “Bad way to go.”
“Sir?” His side kick B. D. Reckoning looked back with a puzzled expression.
“Death by shopping cart.”
Reckoning nodded that he understood.
A squat old woman came into the store and paused. She blinked and looked closer at the body. “Is he the store greeter?”
“No, ma’am,” Chewy said. 
“This is a crime scene,” Reckoning said. “You need to step back.”
The old woman gave a humpf. “Just came to buy some tomatoes.” She strutted to the cart corral and pulled on one to loosen it from the line.
“Maybe a robbery gone bad.” Reckoning pointed to the grill marks on the body’s face.
The cart remained stuck on another cart. The old woman yanked on it and three carts dislodged from the pack staying together as if welded into a single unit. She started shaking and twisting the cart, but it wouldn’t come away from it friends.
“Maybe a hit,” Reckoning said. “The mob is varying its techniques. Trying to be a bit more creative.”
Chewy raised a hand form a moment to think. He stroked the five o’clock shadow on his face even though it was only 10:12 a.m. and watched the old woman try to dislodge a shopping cart.
He pushed back his Stetson and sauntered to where the woman, now breathless, had lapsed into a futile tug of war to get a shopping cart. “Allow me, ma’am.”
She stepped away. “Good luck. Nobody is gonna get them apart. It’s like a magic spell has them locked together.
Chewy moved closer and sized up the situation. Before joining the CYAPD, he’d been a physics major, just before doing a short stint at the seminary. The situation was quite logical and diabolically clever.

He firmly grabbed the grill that folded up when pushed into another cart for storage and raised it high enough to clear the front of the cart it was stuck on. Then he pulled forward and separated the cart from the others. Pushing it a safe distance away, he said, “There you go, ma’am.”
She pushed the cart into the store and looked back. “I was going to do that next.”
“I know what happened to Mr. Body. He’d entered the store, probably happy and excited to be doing some grocery shopping. Pot roast is on sale right now.” Chewy pointed to a sale sign in the window. “When he tried to get a cart, the contraption wouldn’t disengage from the others. In his frenzied struggle, it came loose unexpectedly. He fell over and it rolled over him, crushing him.”
Reckoning’s mouth hung open as he digested the explanation. Finally he said, “Very clever, sir. What tipped you off?”
Chewy smiled. “Let’s just say it was detective's intuition and a bit of luck.”
Now a word from our sponsor: All the Penelope Mystery books have been reduced to 99 cents each. Get the entire series, or buy them one at time. Check it out at PenelopeMystery.com.
That’s all for this week. Stay tuned when next time Chewy Caramel cracks the Case of the Cape Crusader Caper.

First Mermaids, Then…?

Read this startling piece of news today: Fishhawk Bans Mermaid. Yikes! What is the world coming to?  All this little mermaid wants to do is entertain children. Sadly the public pools have a no fin policy.  Would they ban Flipper? What about Namu? Ok, the whale may be a bit too large for the swimming pool. But a mermaid? 
My memories of mermaids have be positive. When I was seven, I first wanted to have a mermaid for a friend after seeing the movie Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid.  Of course, I’m older now and realize the practicality of such a thing makes it out of the question. But then there is Splash with Tom Hanks and Daryl Hannah. Or what about the Disney classic, The Little Mermaid?
Maybe something deeper lies here. Mermaids have been reported to lure seafarers to their death on the rocks near shores. It had something to do with the song they’d sing. According to legends, they’d lure men close enough to them, then grab them and pull them under water, drowning them.  But that could all be a misunderstanding, and the mermaids didn’t realize men can’t breathe under water.
I say posh! Mermaids are good. Take a stand. Save the Mermaids and let them be free. If we don’t, tomorrow they’ll ban Gnomes and Faeries and Trolls.
Ron D. Voigts is the author of the mystery-thriller Claws of the Griffin and the Penelope Mystery Series.

Summer Memories

Took a walk this evening. My work keeps me out of town much of time and in the Maryland-West Virginia area, in the Allegheny Mountains.  So my hikes offer a great view of green mountains, rock faces and hilly terrain. Tonight the woody scent of the trees mingled with the smell of smoke caught my attention—probably some backyard fire to celebrate the summer with Smores and stories. Crickets sang in the background. Kids ran in yard playing some game made up on the spot. A dog barked somewhere, and neighbors chatted across a fence.
I remembered another time in my life when I was eleven and went to a boys’ camp. The smell of the wood and smoke reminded me of the forest and campfires where we cooked food from cans, told ghost stories and sang silly songs.  In a clearing, we’d play capture the flag long after sunset and into the dark, chasing shadows and calling to teammates. At night we lay in small tents that smelled of mold and dirt, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. Sleep never came until after midnight, and, once and a while, we’d sneak out and hide in the dark, listening to the counselors, most of whom were college men working the summer, tell each other stories of girls and sports and school. In the morning, we’d rise again and eat pancakes made on a propane cook stove, by a guy named Coach, who always warned us of a fate worse than death if we complained about the cooking. And we’d dream of new adventures.
Funny how a smell or a sound or a voice brings back a memory.

ConTemporal Wrap Up

We had a great time at ConTemporal last weekend. Attended some panels, went to shows and spent lots of time in the dealer room. Listened to music by The Gin Rebellion. Here's picture of me, the wife and Steampunk Boba Fett.

We played  Fate Accelerated, a role playing game, which gave me some great ideas for character development, and I got a chance to develop a character for my next book.  My plan for this one is a Steampunk Thriller. 

Don't forget to get your entry in for a signed copy of Claws of the Griffin. Check the link on the sidebar.

Contemporal Here We Come!

The wife and I are going to our first Steampunk convention this weekend at Contemporal. If you don't know what Steampunk is, its kinda Victorian, and kinda SFF, and kinda different.  I always think Jules Verne--time machines, top hats and canes, and a trip to the moon. But it can have an "Old American West" motif. Post-apocalyptic. Dystopian. Cool. Punk. Did I mention Steam?

My next book will be a Steampunk Mystery. Contemporal is advertising some writer's workshops so looking forward to that.  I will blog on my adventure; be sure to stop by later.

Also, the giveaway for Claws of the Griffin continues.  As the old saying goes, you can't win if you don't enter

Goodreads Giveaway

Tuesday June 25 begins Goodreads Giveaway for Claws of the Griffin .

Can't wait to read Claws of the Griffin? Stop by Amazon and get your copy on Kindle or paperback.

Goodreads Giveaway for Claws of the Griffin

Tuesday ended the sale on Claws of the Griffin .  It was fun.  I may put one of the Penelope Mysteries on sale next.

But for now I am doing a Giveaway on Goodreads, starting Tuesday June 25. I've added a widget to the blog, so you are a click away from getting an entry in.  Somebody has to win and it might be you!