Meg Perry's Blog, page 3

Cover reveal for Cheated to Death!

I am SO excited about the cover for my new series, the Angeles Investigations mysteries. I think you’ll love it as much as I do. The book will be published 12/15; I should have preorder up by 12/1 (this Friday). The cover is by the immensely talented Dianne Thies of https://www.lyricallines.net/.

Angeles Investigations is nearly ready for its opening day on Tuesday, August 1. Rob Jones, Kevin Brodie, and Jamilah Daly have worked for weeks to make their vision come to life. Jamie Brodie is on board to resume his career as a professional researcher. All they need to do now is hire an administrative assistant. How hard could that be?

Meanwhile, Jon Eckhoff and Susan Portman are tracking a serial killer preying on real estate agents in the Valley. When interior decorator Paul Thayer is found stabbed to death in an empty house in the Palisades, the powers that be decide to assign that one to Jon and Susan, too. 

Fortunately, Paul’s murder should be easy to solve. They have two excellent suspects – Paul’s ex-business partner, Adrienne Pennell, and his ex-husband, Aaron Quinn. They both have financial motives, and neither of them has an alibi. All Jon and Susan have to do is prove that one of them killed Paul. How hard could that be?

Adrienne Pennell has other ideas. She hires Angeles Investigations to solve Paul’s murder and thereby exonerate her and Aaron. The race is on between former partners Kevin and Jon to find Paul’s killer. And, to Jamie’s dismay, he gets dragged into the field with Rob to do some playacting.

Paul’s life was complicated, and there are plenty of questions to answer. Why didn’t he ever change his will? Who’s the silent partner in his business? Whose DNA is in the condom in his bathroom? What will the beneficiary of his will do with all that penile art? And who the hell is Davis Scherer, and why is he lying?

The answers are out there, and Angeles is determined to find them before the police do.

How hard could that be?

A seasonally appropriate oldie

To celebrate the Major League Baseball playoffs which began today, here is an old story originally published in the anthology Dirty Laundry. It’s a baseball story, sort of. Also the origin story of two of our major characters.

March 1997

Pete Ferguson slipped through the door into the media room. Coach was introducing the new crop of recruits signed by UCLA Baseball for the coming year, and he’d strongly recommended that the current players attend.

Pete didn’t particularly care who they were. He was a senior; he wouldn’t be playing with them. But Coach had asked, and he was mildly curious. So he pressed himself against the back wall and watched the newbies file in.

There was a long table at the front with eleven seats, a microphone at each. The recruits crossed from a side door to the table and sat. Each player had a place card with his name in front of him, but Pete was too far away to read them.

Jimbo Howard, the Bruins’ current right fielder and also a senior, slipped into the room and stood beside Pete. “Big fish from small ponds, huh?”

“Most of them.” Pete watched the guys walk. A few of them strutted, cocky for now. The rest, with one exception, had deer-in-the-headlights going on. 

The exception was the next to last in. The guy carried himself confidently but not arrogantly. He was the biggest of the group, as tall as Pete, and at least ten pounds heavier. Jimbo whistled softly. “Check out the big guy. How’d the football team miss him?”

“Good question.” Pete observed the guy more closely. He was blond, his hair just a bit longer than a buzz cut, wearing a polo shirt and jeans. He took his seat and crossed his arms, gazing out at the collection of reporters, players and hangers-on. Interestingly, he seemed to be evaluating the audience, rather than the other way around. Pete thought, There’s the future team captain.

Coach took his seat in the center of the table. “Good afternoon, everyone, thanks for coming. Allow me to present our 1997 recruiting class. Each athlete will introduce himself, then we’ll take questions. We’ll start with Charlie Acosta.” 

Charlie was the last kid at the table, just to the right of the big blond guy. “Um – I’m Charlie Acosta, I’m from Bakersfield, I play shortstop, and I’m going to major in sports management.”

Jimbo snorted. “Of course you are.”

Jlaff, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

The big blond guy leaned forward into the mic. “My name is Kevin Brodie. I’m from Oceanside. My intended major is philosophy, and I’m a catcher.”

Catcher. That explained the size. Jimbo said what Pete was thinking. “A catcher-philosopher? That should be interesting.”

The rest of the recruits were mostly budding sports management and phys ed majors. One planned to study math and one was shooting for pre-med. When they’d finished Coach said, “All right. We’ll take questions now.”

An older guy – from the Times, maybe? – said, “My question is for Kevin Brodie. Why philosophy?”

One corner of Kevin’s mouth tipped up. “I want to study ethics. How humans develop a moral code, and under what circumstances individuals might compromise or abandon those codes.”

And just like that, the entire room was focused on Kevin Brodie. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least. The reporter said, “Er – wow. That’s fascinating. Do you intend to eventually teach or do research?”

“No, sir. I intend to be a homicide detective.”

A murmur circled the room then died away. Even Coach seemed surprised. Beside Pete, Jimbo muttered, “Damn. I pity the fools who he goes after.”

Pete said, “No shit.”

January 2002

The next time Pete heard Kevin Brodie’s name was in the locker room before a Centurions game. Pete had still been in field training when the Centurions coach had somehow learned about Pete’s baseball background and had recruited him to the team. He’d been playing since spring and, so far, was batting over .400. Police league pitching was considerably easier to hit than PAC-12 pitching had been. As a result he’d gained an enormous amount of respect, something that rookie cops found hard to earn.

And he’d been rapidly transferred from Hollenbeck Division to West LA. Boyle Heights to Brentwood. When he’d asked why, he’d been told, “Parker doesn’t want its Centurions stars getting shot at.”

He’d considered complaining, then decided against it. If he was ever outed in the department, he needed all the good will he could muster. Besides – it was a much shorter commute.

He was tying his cleats when someone to his left said, “Hey, did you hear? Someone at the Academy broke the marksmanship record.”

Another voice said, “Yeah, I heard. He didn’t just break it, he demolished it.”

The first guy laughed. “SWAT will be all over him as soon as he graduates.”

A voice to his right asked, “D’you know his name?”

The second guy said, “Yeah. Kevin Brodie.”

Pete sat up so fast, he whacked his head on the still-open door of his locker. “Ow. Shit. I know that guy.”

Everyone within earshot turned toward him. Ronnie Edmonds, the centerfielder, said, “Yeah? How?”

“I don’t know him, but I know of him. He played baseball at UCLA. I was a senior when he was recruited.”

Carl Frick, the third baseman, said, “What position?”

“Catcher.”

An “ooooo” went around the room. The Centurions catcher, Bill Navarro, had been making noises about retiring. Ronnie said, “Forget SWAT. Somebody needs to tell Coach about this guy.”

So Pete did.

Two months later, Pete walked into the Centurions locker room to find Kevin Brodie at the locker next to his, tugging a shirt over his head. Pete stopped for a second then said, “Kevin Brodie.”

Kevin turned in surprise. “Yeah…?”

Pete held out his hand. “Pete Ferguson.”

Understanding dawned on Kevin’s face. “Ah. You’re the one who recommended me for the team. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I expect we’ll be thanking you pretty soon.”

“How did you know who I was?”

“Remember your first Media Day at UCLA? Spring of ‘97? I was there. Do you still intend to be a homicide detective?”

Kevin laughed. “Yeah, I do. Anything I need to know here?” He waved his hand to indicate the locker room.

“Nah. Just don’t make me sorry that I gave Coach your name.”

Kevin’s grin was wide. “I’ll do my best.”

July 2002

Four months later, Pete was delighted that he’d recommended Kevin. He threw a baseball as accurately as he shot, and his batting average hovered around .333. Pete’s own was still above .400. 

Patrol in West LA was actually enjoyable, most of the time. The worst situations he and his partner, Stan Hazlett, had to deal with were domestic violence-related, usually after someone had drunk too much at a party. There were a few bar fights in Westwood around the university, and plenty of theft.

As Parker Center had hoped, he had yet to be shot at.

The only unknown was that Stan had just retired. Stan was a gruff old guy, fighting a potbelly, who’d never been anything but a patrol officer. Everyone in West LA knew him, it seemed. He’d shown Pete the best places to eat and get coffee and had been a solid, steady partner. He’d also refrained from pushing Pete for any details about his personal life.

Now Stan was gone and Pete was nervous. His Grandma Ginny had been right – keeping his personal life under wraps was wearing on him. Not that he had much personal life. An occasional overnight camping trip to the desert with a like-minded, also-closeted cop was the only action he was getting.

If his new partner turned out to be a homophobic redneck, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He changed into his uniform in the locker room and headed upstairs to the captain’s office. He knocked, and the captain called, “Come in.”

Pete pushed the door open. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” The captain stood, as Pete sensed another person to his right. He turned to find Kevin Brodie grinning at him. “Officer Brodie tells me that the two of you are already acquainted.”

Pete was stunned to silence for a second. “Yes, sir. You’re my new partner?”

“Yep.”

The captain said, “Welcome aboard, Officer Brodie. Ferguson, I trust you’ll show him the ropes.”

“Of course, sir.” 

“Excellent. Be careful out there.”

Pete and Kevin said together, “Yes, sir.”

Pete showed Kevin to the lot where their Crown Vic awaited. “How well do you know your way around this area?”

“Pretty well. I lived in Westwood for four years. Do you want me to drive?”

“No, I’ll drive. I just wondered how much geographic orientation you needed.”

“Not much.”

“All right.” Pete climbed behind the wheel and started the car. Kevin called in their status, and Pete turned onto Butler Avenue and headed north. “Is your plan to take the detectives’ exam as soon as you’re eligible?”

“Yes.” Kevin glanced at Pete. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m considering getting a master’s degree.”

“In what?”

“Psychology.”

“Would you be a police psychologist?”

Pete shrugged. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Their morning was uneventful – they took a report of a stolen bike in Westwood, drove around for about a half hour, and found it ditched in an empty lot. They returned it to its owner. They pulled over a Beemer in Bel Air for running a stop sign, and got called to a fender bender in a grocery store parking lot. It was 12:30 when Pete said, “Ready for lunch?”

“Sure.”

Pete drove to a taco stand near the station. They ordered and returned to the car to eat. Pete nodded at the wedding ring on Kevin’s left hand. “You’re married.”

He mumbled around a bite of taco. “Mm hm. Just over a year. You?”

“Confirmed bachelor. What does your wife do?”

“Her name’s Jennifer. She teaches kindergarten in Culver City.”

“Ah. You live there?”

“Yup. You?”

“I live in Santa Monica. I help take care of my great-uncle, and in return he doesn’t charge me rent.”

“Whoa. That’s lucky. Are you an LA native?”

“LA County, yes. Lancaster. You’re from San Diego?”

“San Diego County, yes. Oceanside.”

“Ah, I vaguely remember that now. Is your dad a Marine?”

“Yep. Newly retired.” Kevin balled up one paper wrapper and unwound another from a second taco. “He wants no part of what’s coming in Iraq.”

“Oh.” Pete wasn’t sure what was coming in Iraq, and didn’t want to get into politics. “Do you have siblings?”

“Two brothers. One older, one younger.”

“Are they military or cops?”

“Not at all. My older brother is in veterinary school at Davis, and my younger brother just won a Rhodes Scholarship and is packing for England.”

“No way. How did he get to be a Rhodes Scholar?”

“He went to Berkeley, he had a 3.92 GPA, he played rugby there and won four national championships, and he did a shit-ton of volunteer work. He wants a Ph.D. in history, and this was a way for him to get it without student loans.”

“History, huh?”

“Yeah. Britain under the Roman Empire.” Kevin waved a hand in the air. “He’s kind of a nut about it.”

“So he’ll be a university professor.”

“That’s the plan. He and his boyfriend both.”

Boyfriend. Pete stopped, taco halfway to his mouth. Did Kevin know? How could he? He was still eating, concentrating on containing the diced tomato in his taco shell. Pete swallowed. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Kevin glanced at Pete, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Is that a problem?”

“No. Of course not.” It so wasn’t a problem. Pete was almost dizzy with relief. “How long have you – when did he – uh…”

“He came out to Jeff and me – Jeff is our older brother – when he was fourteen. He told our dad several months after that.”

“And he plays rugby.”

“Yep. Exceptionally well.”

Pete wadded up his wrapper, thinking. Should he tell Kevin? They were going to be spending a lot of time together in this car. It would make life so much easier…

He was still considering when Kevin said, “Is it safe to assume that anything said in this car doesn’t go beyond this car?”

Pete whipped his head around to look at Kevin. “Yes. You’re the ethics guy, right? Consider this a confessional.”

“Glad to hear it. Just in case I ever need to confess anything.”

“Are you Catholic?”

He snorted. “God, no. We’re ethnically Presbyterian, but I haven’t been to church since high school. Are you?”

Pete wasn’t sure what ethnically Presbyterian meant, but he didn’t ask. “I was. I’m an atheist now.”

“Good for you. I respect that.”

“I’m also gay.”

Pete froze, stunned at his own admission. Why had he said that? The words had fallen out of his mouth of their own volition, it seemed. Kevin gave him a considering look. “Good for you. I respect that.”

Pete blew out a breath, shaking his head. “I’m not sure you should. Other than my immediate family, I’m deeeep in the closet.”

Kevin held out his hand. “Thank you for admitting me to your immediate family.”

Pete huffed a laugh and shook Kevin’s hand. “Thank you. For being okay with it. For whatever comes next.”

Kevin grinned. “Too bad my brother’s leaving the country in three days. You and he – and his boyfriend – could probably be friends.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jamie. His boyfriend is Ethan.”

“Maybe when he gets back.” Pete handed his balled-up trash to Kevin. “Noobs get to dump the garbage.”

“Ha! I’d expect no less.”

Kevin exited the car and headed for the trash bin. Pete sagged back against his seat in relief. If he still believed in God, he’d be thanking him profusely right now.

Kevin climbed back into the passenger seat and buckled up. “Ready to roll?”

Pete grinned and cranked the engine. “I have never been more ready in my life.”

New short story: Atonement?

This story takes place immediately after the end of Accessory to Death, Kevin Brodie Mystery #3. At the end of that book, Kevin is heading for the pool after a conversation with his grandfather. Later that evening, after dinner, Kevin calls Kermit Blackwood to tell him that he’s no longer with the DA’s office. Their conversation is told in this story.

As a reminder, Ammo is staying with Kevin and Kristen until Pete and Jamie move back to Santa Monica.

If you haven’t yet read Accessory to Death, then here be spoilers!

Atonement?

Kevin stalled as long as he could. He loaded the dishwasher after dinner and wiped down the counters and sink. He tossed a load of laundry into the washer. He found Ammo’s brush and went outside to the back patio, where Kristen and Ammo were relaxing near the pool, intending to take Ammo to the backyard to provide some Labrador fur for any birds that might be building nests.

Kristen stood up, planted her hand in the middle of his chest, and took the brush from his hand. “Nope. If you wait any longer, it’ll be too late. Call the man and get it over with.”

Kevin sighed deeply. “Okay. Fine.”

She patted him on the chest and said, “Ammo, want a brushing?”

Ammo knew what to do when he saw his brush. He scrambled to his feet and trotted around the pool, heading for the far recesses of the backyard. Kristen grinned and followed Ammo.

Kevin went into the house and took his phone upstairs to their bedroom, from where he could watch Kristen and Ammo. He opened his contacts and tapped on Kermit Blackwood’s name.

He expected to have to leave a message, but the man answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mr. Blackwood, it’s Kevin Brodie. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“Not at all, not at all. What can I do for you?”

He wasn’t quite slurring his words, but Kermit Blackwood was clearly drunk. Kevin wasn’t entirely surprised. He said, “I have some news, and I wanted to make sure that you heard it from me first.”

He heard ice rattling in a glass. “Oh? What’s that?”

“I quit my job this morning. My last day is next Friday.”

Blackwood was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Kellerman, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

The ice rattled again. “Stupid bitch.”

Maybe Blackwood was drunker than he sounded. Kevin said, “I think she’ll regret her choices with regard to Victim Services. But I’m not going to stick around to find out.”

Blackwood was moving around. Kevin heard the soft pop of a stopper being pulled from a decanter, then liquid splashed into a glass. “Of course you’re not. ‘Cause you’re a smart man. Lemme ask you. What’s your father do?”

“He was a career Marine.”

“Officer?”

“Non-com. He retired at Master Gunnery Sergeant.”

“My old man was in the Navy. Vice Admiral. He wanted me to join up.” Blackwood grunted. “I didn’t do it. He never forgave me. I built a multimillion dollar business and my old man only said, ‘Yeah, but you never served your country.’ He was a bastard.”

Kevin didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Blackwood muttered to himself for a moment then asked, “You ever disappoint your old man?”

“He says not.”

“It’s a hell of a thing.” More muttering. “I thought Chase never disappointed me. Turns out he wasn’t any better’n me. I shoulda paid more attention to David.”

“It’s not too late to start.”

“You’re right. You’re right. You’re a smart one, all right. You and that partner of yours.”

Kevin thought, Jamilah? He never met her. “My partner, sir?”

“Eckhoff. I’ve been watching you on the reruns. The two of you always figure it out.”

 “We haven’t been partners for three years, sir.”

“Yeah, but you still figure shit out together, don’t you? I can tell. That other partner of his, she’s a smart cookie too, but you and Eckhoff…” He trailed off. The ice tinkled against the glass as he drank.

Kevin rolled his eyes at the thought of anyone calling Susan Portman a cookie. He’d originally thought that Blackwood might be drinking out of guilt. But that was wrong. He was drinking out of fear. Blackwood knew that Jon and he had figured out who killed Ross and Danielle Stevenson, and he didn’t know what would happen next.

People who built multimillion dollar businesses didn’t like to lose control of the situation. Blackwood had lost control and he was afraid.

Kevin felt a twinge of schadenfreude. Misplaced? Maybe. He kept his tone mild. “Knowing what happened isn’t any use to the police if there’s no evidence. Even Camille Kellerman won’t issue an arrest warrant without anything to back it up.” Except there’s no statute of limitations on murder, and Jon will never stop looking, and you’ll have to worry about that for the rest of your life.

There was a pause. Kevin wondered if Blackwood’s thoughts were running on the same tracks as his own, and decided that they probably were. Blackwood took another drink. “What are your plans, then, once you’re free of Kellerman?”

“I’m opening a private investigation agency with two other former cops.”

“You don’t say.” For some reason, that seemed to lift Blackwood’s mood. Maybe he’d been afraid that Kevin was going back to LAPD to join forces with Jon. “When’s that gonna happen?”

“August first.”

“Takes a while to build a business up like that.”

“Yes, sir. It’ll be tight for the first few months.” 

“I’d like to help you out with that. You’ve been a rock for Molly through this mess. We owe you a lot.” 

Kevin was stunned to silence for a moment. “Oh, no, sir. I’m not ethically allowed to accept any kind of ‘help’ from former clients, even after I leave the DA’s office. I could lose my social work license.”

Blackwood grunted. “That’d be a problem?”

“It would for me, sir.”

“Well, there must be a way to do this. Who do I need to talk to?”

Kevin hesitated. Neither he nor Jamilah could be involved–but he supposed that Rob should have the opportunity to consider Blackwood’s offer. If it meant that Rob didn’t have to take out an equity loan on the property, he might go for it. He said, “The man who’s creating the agency is Detective Rob Jones with LAPD’s Robbery-Homicide Unit. I can text you his phone number.”

“Yes, do that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Aurelia and I appreciate everything you’ve done for our family.”

Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just doing my job, sir.”

Blackwood laughed. “You’re the son of a Marine, all right.”

Whatever that meant. Kevin said, “I won’t take up any more of your time. Have a good night, sir.”

“Thanks. Send me that number.”

“Right away, sir. Goodbye.”

Blackwood said goodbye and hung up. Kevin sent him Rob’s number then texted Rob himself. 

Kermit Blackwood might call you about money to start the agency.

What??? Atoning for his sins? There are better ways to do that.

Agreed. Be that as it may. He’s seriously drunk so he may think better of it in the morning.

Oooookie dokie.

Kevin blew out a breath and looked outside. He couldn’t see Ammo and Kristen anymore; they must have retreated to the patio. He could see, even at that distance, multiple clumps of blond fur scattered around the edge of the yard. A bird was already picking at one of them.

He went downstairs, got a beer from the fridge, and joined Kristen on the patio. She said, “That took a while.”

“Uh-huh.” Kevin related the conversation to her.

“Is he assuaging his guilt? Or is he trying to buy Jon off through you?”

“Maybe both. Don’t know.” He took a swig of his beer. “Don’t care.”

“Will Rob take the money?”

“I don’t know. He’ll want assurances in writing from Blackwood that it won’t mean that Blackwood has any power over or interest in the business. If it even gets that far.”

“You think Blackwood will wake up with a hangover tomorrow and think better of it?”

“He might wake up tomorrow and wonder why the hell I texted him a random phone number.”

Kristen laughed. “Nah. I bet he holds his liquor better than that. He’ll remember, even if he does change his mind.”

He didn’t change his mind. Four days later, Kevin was in his office, cleaning out his desk, when Rob texted. Met with K. Blackwood yesterday.

Yeah? What did he say?

Half a million.

WHAT?

Yup. I had my lawyer draw up an agreement. No interference, expectations, demands, obligations, etc. Free and clear. 

Loan or gift?

He’s calling it an investment for business purposes. From our standpoint, it’s a gift.

OMG.

I tried to talk him out of it. He was adamant.

Ooookay. Well, you won’t have to take out a loan now.

Exactly. Tell Jamilah about it.

Will do. Right now.

Kevin tucked his phone into his pocket and went to Jamilah’s office, where she was on the phone. “Hey, Brenda, thanks for calling me back. Which clients were assigned to you?” She wrote four names on a sticky note. “Got it. I’ll email you their files.” She listened for a moment. “That sounds great. These are all nice folks. You’ll enjoy meeting them. Okay, thanks.” She laughed. “Yeah, good luck. I’ll be around. Call my cell if you need anything. Okay.” She said goodbye and hung up.

Kevin asked, “Is everyone reassigned?”

“Yes, and I’ve spoken to every advocate that’s taking the cases over. I just have to finish emailing the case files, and we’re outta here. What’s up? You have a funny look on your face.”

“You’re not gonna believe this.” Kevin told her everything that had transpired with Kermit Blackwood.

She stared at him for a moment, speechless. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“This is not an entirely comfortable feeling.”

“I know. Rob says there are no loopholes in the paperwork.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well. I guess in time we’ll find out what Kermit’s intentions are. If any.”

Kevin listened to his gut for a second. His gut seemed content. He said, “I think his intention is to say thank you. The only way he knows how to do that is with money.”

“That’s sad.”

“Yes, it is. And it’s not like we don’t have anything to hold over him, if it comes to that.”

Jamilah tapped her pen against the edge of her desk. “If you and Rob think it’s okay, then I guess it’s okay.”

“Let’s just say I’m cautiously optimistic. Very cautiously.”

“So, we’ll proceed with great caution.”

“Exactly.”

She tossed her pen onto the desk and grinned. “Can we proceed without caution to lunch? I’m hungry.”

Kevin grinned back. “Let’s go.”

Accessory to Death is here!

If you didn’t preorder, now’s your chance to get the book immediately! My beta readers say that this is the best thing I’ve ever written. A couple of them used stronger words than that. I hope you agree.

Who killed Chase and Kara Blackwood? Chase and Kara seemed like the perfect couple – happily married, doting parents, successful careers, good neighbors. But when social worker and victim advocate Kevin Brodie takes on the rest of the Blackwood family as clients, he discovers that the perfect couple was not so perfect. As Kevin begins to uncover Chase and Kara’s secrets, he works with Jon Eckhoff, Susan Portman, and Rob Jones to figure out which of those secrets might have led to murder.

While Kevin is assigned solely to the Blackwoods, Jamilah Daly is holding down the fort at the Bureau of Victim Services, juggling thirty cases and trying to stay a step ahead of District Attorney Camille Kellerman. The DA is no fan of Victim Services, and particularly dislikes the homicide specialty within the Bureau. Are Kevin and Jamilah’s days at BVS numbered? And if so, what comes next?

Goalz. I haz them.

And I fail to meet them. One of my goals for 2023 was to be more consistent about posting to this blog.

Hahahaha. I shall endeavor to do better.

Anyway! I do have goals for the rest of the year that I am determined to meet. I’ve already accomplished the first two, so I’m off to a good start.

The first was to get the final Kevin Brodie book published in September. If you haven’t already heard, Accessory to Death, Kevin Brodie Mystery #3, is now up for preorder at all e-book retailers. Publication date is 9/8, one week from today. Here are the links to Amazon and Smashwords.

The second was to get the first book of the new series done by 8/31. I completed that one two days early. I’m letting it rest for a while, then I’ll read it again and send it off to the betas. If all goes according to plan, the publication date for Cheated to Death will be 12/15/23. You’ll be hearing a lot more about it in the weeks to come.

The second book of the new series is Hunted to Death. It’s underway, and I’d like to have the first draft done by the end of this month. The third book is Deepfaked to Death, and I’ve started it also. I want to have its first draft done by the end of October.

Then I’m planning to participate in NaNoWriMo again, to spew out the first draft of Disappeared to Death, the fourth book of the new series. I haven’t written any of it yet, but it is fully outlined. A first for me! I’m kind of getting into this outlining thing. It’s never worked for me before, but all of a sudden, in this new series, it seems to be the thing to do. Will it last? We shall see.

In December I want to get the Kevin books into print and figure out what the fifth book of the new series will be. I have a couple of ideas but don’t know how to execute them yet.

In summary, I’m feeling very creative these days! Next year I’ll be traveling a good bit, so I want to make sure that I can meet next year’s publication schedule. Getting all those first drafts done will ease those concerns in my mind.

There are a couple of short stories on the way, to establish a couple of things that need to be set up before the new series. Those will probably appear in my newsletter, so if you haven’t subscribed to it, hop up to the appropriate tab at the top of this page and sign up! I also have a new interview in mind, this one with a fellow named Rob Jones. It’ll give you the chance to get to know him better.

Any questions??

It’s a double birthday!

Happy birthday, Jamie Brodie! Jamie turns 43 today. To celebrate, his 23rd book is out today!

Enchanted to Death, Jamie Brodie #23 (and final) is now available. If you didn’t preorder, now’s your chance to read about what Jamie’s doing on his birthday. (Yes, for the first time, I released a book a few days before the book actually ends. If there is a major earthquake in LA between now and Saturday, we’ll just pretend for fictional purposes that it didn’t happen yet. Let’s hope there’s not.)

Fair warning: this book is a novella. It’s shorter than the other Jamie books. But it’s action-packed.

Enchanted to Death at Amazon

Enchanted to Death at Smashwords

Jamie Brodie is still in New Mexico, volunteering with local Search and Rescue but otherwise adrift, his days purposeless. He dreams of going home to California but doesn’t know what he’d do with his time once he got there. Then a terrible tragedy and a sudden announcement propel Jamie and Pete back toward Los Angeles.

But first, Jamie has some business to attend to.

And clarity of purpose comes to Jamie from an unexpected source.

Preorder is available for Enchanted to Death!

Enchanted to Death, Jamie Brodie Mystery #23 (and final with that designation) is now available for preorder everywhere. Here are the links for Amazon and Smashwords.

The release date is May 17, two weeks and a day away. And, not coincidentally, that’s Jamie’s 43rd birthday.

Jamie Brodie is still in New Mexico, volunteering with local Search and Rescue but otherwise adrift, his days purposeless. He dreams of going home to California but doesn’t know what he’d do with his time once he got there. Then a terrible tragedy and a sudden announcement propel Jamie and Pete back toward Los Angeles. 

But first, Jamie has some business to attend to. 

And clarity of purpose comes to Jamie from an unexpected source.

Cover Reveal: Enchanted to Death

Hi everyone! How about a cover reveal? Here is the cover for Enchanted to Death, Jamie Brodie Mystery #23, coming in May. The cover artist is the same as for all the Jamie books, Stephanie Reppas of October Design Co.

Jamie Brodie is still in New Mexico, volunteering with local Search and Rescue but otherwise adrift, his days purposeless. He dreams of going home to California but doesn’t know what he’d do with his time once he got there. Then a terrible tragedy and a sudden announcement propel Jamie and Pete back toward Los Angeles. 

But first, Jamie has some business to attend to. 

And clarity of purpose comes to Jamie from an unexpected source.

Time marches on

About a year ago, someone asked me how long I’d keep writing. It wasn’t anything I’d ever thought about, so I didn’t know exactly what I did think about it. I think I said, “Oh, until I’m 80, probably.”

I had a birthday recently (not a “big” birthday, just an ordinary one) and that got me to thinking about the answer to that question. I’d just finished a new book by James Lee Burke. Have you ever read any of his mysteries? He’s best known for his Dave Robicheaux series, which takes place in New Orleans, but he now lives in Montana and has moved his settings there, too.

James Lee Burke is 85. His protagonist in his latest novel, Every Cloak Rolled in Blood, is 85. The book was terrific. He’s an award-winning writer.

So, age doesn’t seem to be a factor unless you want it to be. Which I don’t!

Then there’s the issue of my characters. Jamie, Kevin, and the rest age in real time, as you know. When I’m 85, Jamie will be 62. Jon will be 61. Kevin will be 63. Pete will be 67. Kristen will be 66. Jamilah Daly will be 66 too. Rob Jones will be 72. Dave Brodie will be 90. Ammo and Sarge will have both crossed the veil.

What are they going to want to do when they’re that age? I have no idea.

I have a family history of macular degeneration, which takes out your central vision. If I wasn’t able to see a computer monitor anymore, I’m not sure how that would work. I also have a very early case of Dupuytren’s contracture, also hereditary (thanks, Dad, for both of those tendencies), which would also affect my ability to type. I’ve never used talk-to-text but I’m sure I could if I had to.

My dad also left me longevity. He made it to 93, one of his aunts lived to 98, and another of his aunts lived to 107! My mom was 85, and her mom was 90. If I can stay healthy, I’d love to make 95 at least. (IF I can stay healthy.)

Anyway, those are my musings these days. FYI, in case you haven’t seen it elsewhere, Two Hundred Bones, the third Space Coast Mystery, is up for preorder at all e-retailers. Check out this gorgeous cover by Lyrical Lines and Proofreading!

Federal agent Greg Marcotte and space reporter Justin Harris are counting on a relaxing Sunday to discuss their upcoming fourth anniversary and prepare for the hurricane that’s bearing down on them from the east. But their plans are interrupted when Greg’s boss calls. A construction crew at Cape Canaveral has uncovered a set of old bones, and it’s up to the Air Force Office of Special Investigations to–well, investigate. Greg, his partner Mindy Leonard, and the rest of the team are removing the bones from their shallow grave when they find a damaged rib bone and the bullet that likely did the damage. It’s the coldest of cold cases, but Greg, Mindy, and Justin won’t quit until they identify their victim.

To their surprise, they may also be able to identify the killer.

Happy New Year!

© Nevit Dilmen, CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Happy New Year! I hope you all made it through the past year in one piece, and have something to look forward to in 2023.

I retired from my day job last March, after 17.5 years as Faculty Services and Baccalaureate Studies Librarian at Daytona State College. I was intending to stay another year, but my work brother decided to retire suddenly, and I’d had enough of the academic bureaucracy that stifled our ability to run the library the way we wanted. Freedom!!

I am thoroughly enjoying retirement and don’t miss the job at ALL. But it’s taken me some time to decide how I want to organize my days. I managed to get two books published last June, and have done a lot of writing since then, but my schedule is haphazard at best and nonexistent at worst. I have big plans for this year, and I’m ready to get my life in order.

The part of those plans that interest y’all are as follows:

February–Two Hundred Bones, Space Coast Mystery #3. A decades-old skeleton is found at a construction site at Cape Canaveral, and Greg and Justin investigate.

May–Enchanted to Death, Jamie Brodie Mystery #23. A life-changing tragedy puts Jamie on a path toward retribution–and home.

September–Accessory to Death, Kevin Brodie Mystery #3. Kevin’s clients are the wealthy parents of a doctor who, along with his wife, was brutally murdered. The doctor had plenty of secrets that might have led to his murder, and Jon, Susan, and Rob Jones have their hands full sorting it all out. Meanwhile, Jamilah is dealing with a threat from new DA Camille Kellerman.

December–Cheated to Death, Angeles Investigations #1. Jamie, Kevin, Jamilah, Rob Jones, and a new character whom you all are going to love join forces to create Angeles Investigations, a new private investigation agency housed in Brentwood. In their first case, their client is a murder suspect who wants the PIs to clear her name by finding the real killer.

I hope all that sounds good to you! The Angeles Investigations series will be from Jamie’s POV as much as possible but will sometimes switch to one of the others. Sadly, Jamie can’t be everywhere all the time. 

Thank you all for sticking with Jamie and the gang for all these years!

Here’s hoping for a good year ahead for all of us.

-Meg