Book Spotlight: The Case of the Stolen Memories
Can fictional murders lead to real-life ones? I'd like to hope not, but just listen to this funny story from my good friend Deborah Sprinkles. She writes mystery and suspense and this new series of hers is sure to pique your interest. 
When I decided to write my Mac and Sam mystery series, starring Mackenzie Love and Samantha Majors, the first thing I had to do was choose a location. Would their private investigation firm be in an imaginary town like my first series or a real one? There were advantages to both.
I liked the idea of a small town close to a big city. It offered the best of both worlds. And, being from St. Louis, I knew the perfect location. Washington, Missouri, a small town on the Missouri River about forty-five minutes southwest of St. Louis. I’d been there a number of times and loved it.
Now came the difficult, but fun, part. I hadn’t been to Washington for a number of years, and then I’d visited for fun, not for research. My husband, Les, and I planned our first trip around a visit to family in St. Louis. We spent two and a half days taking photos and talking to people.
I’d come with what I thought was an extensive list of things to do, people to look up, and questions to ask. One of those people was the Police Chief. I just knew he’d welcome me with open arms. So, one of our first stops was to the Public Safety Building which is where the police department is housed on the second floor.
The receptionist listened to my spiel about being a novelist and how I was writing a mystery series set in Washington, and would like to establish a contact person in the police department for a reference.
“The Chief’s in a meeting. I’ll have him call you.”
I left a little deflated, but not ready to give up. I figured if he didn’t call within a reasonable amount of time, I’d go back. You have to be persistent. Right?
We went to lunch at Cowan’s, a local restaurant that was on my list to visit. By now, my engine was working on all cylinders. I was soaking in the atmosphere, taking photos, and making notes. In the middle of the meal, my phone rings. It’s the police chief. Fist pump.
“Chief, thanks for calling me back.”
“I understand you’re a writer.” A gruff voice sounded in my ear.
“I am. I’m doing a series of murder mysteries set in Washington and I’d like a contact with someone in your department to help me get my facts straight.”
“We don’t have murders in our town.”
I pictured him eating rocks for breakfast. I began to sweat. “Well, you will now.” A nervous chuckle from me. “At least three.”
“I guess I better give you a detective then.”
“I’d appreciate it. If he’s able to do it. I mean, if he has the time.”
“He’ll do it if I tell him to.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Click.
I returned to the table and my husband looked at me.
“Well?”
“He’s assigning a detective as my contact.”
“That’s great. Who is he?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
My husband and I went home, and I started the first book, The Case of the Innocent Husband. As I wrote, I jotted questions for my detective contact—who I still hadn’t heard from. One day, I decided to call the police department. Boy, was I nervous. Had the Chief kept his word? When I explained who I was, they put me through to Detective Steve Sitzes. It turned out he was waiting for me to call him!
We hit it off right away, and he was able to help me with any question I asked him. I still made mistakes, but that was entirely me.
Three years, and two more books, The Case of Mistaken Identity and The Case of the Stolen Memories, later Les and I were back in Washington for the Missouri Book Festival and our third research trip. We made an appointment with now Lieutenant Sitzes to meet him at the police station to chat and I had a signed copy of Stolen Memories, my latest book, for him.
“You know, I’m not saying you had anything to do with this or anything, but …” Lt. Sitzes smirked at me. “Ever since you started writing your books we’ve had four homicides in three years. We hadn’t had one in ten years before that.”
What could I say? I warned them before I started.
The Case of the Stolen Memories
It’s the beginning of a new year and Private Investigator Mackenzie Love resolves to get in better shape. But after only one week of walking before work she interrupts a burglary in progress and ends up in the middle of a murder case.
Detective Jake Sanders, the man Mac’s dating, is assigned to the murder, and Mac along with her partners Samantha Majors and Ms. Prudence Freebody are hired to find the memorabilia stolen from the time capsule in Rennick Park. The two cases intertwine and Mac finds herself once more on the wrong end of a gun!
Can Mac and Jake find the killer and the stolen property before the killer finds them?
Deborah Sprinkle is a retired chemistry teacher turned award-winning author with seven books to her name and more on the way. All romantic suspense and mysteries. She lives in Memphis with her wonderful husband, her greatest fan. Connect with Deborah at https://authordeborahsprinkle.com/ or https://www.facebook.com/deborah.sprinkle.5/
When I decided to write my Mac and Sam mystery series, starring Mackenzie Love and Samantha Majors, the first thing I had to do was choose a location. Would their private investigation firm be in an imaginary town like my first series or a real one? There were advantages to both.I liked the idea of a small town close to a big city. It offered the best of both worlds. And, being from St. Louis, I knew the perfect location. Washington, Missouri, a small town on the Missouri River about forty-five minutes southwest of St. Louis. I’d been there a number of times and loved it.
Now came the difficult, but fun, part. I hadn’t been to Washington for a number of years, and then I’d visited for fun, not for research. My husband, Les, and I planned our first trip around a visit to family in St. Louis. We spent two and a half days taking photos and talking to people.
I’d come with what I thought was an extensive list of things to do, people to look up, and questions to ask. One of those people was the Police Chief. I just knew he’d welcome me with open arms. So, one of our first stops was to the Public Safety Building which is where the police department is housed on the second floor.
The receptionist listened to my spiel about being a novelist and how I was writing a mystery series set in Washington, and would like to establish a contact person in the police department for a reference.
“The Chief’s in a meeting. I’ll have him call you.”
I left a little deflated, but not ready to give up. I figured if he didn’t call within a reasonable amount of time, I’d go back. You have to be persistent. Right?
We went to lunch at Cowan’s, a local restaurant that was on my list to visit. By now, my engine was working on all cylinders. I was soaking in the atmosphere, taking photos, and making notes. In the middle of the meal, my phone rings. It’s the police chief. Fist pump.
“Chief, thanks for calling me back.”
“I understand you’re a writer.” A gruff voice sounded in my ear.
“I am. I’m doing a series of murder mysteries set in Washington and I’d like a contact with someone in your department to help me get my facts straight.”
“We don’t have murders in our town.”
I pictured him eating rocks for breakfast. I began to sweat. “Well, you will now.” A nervous chuckle from me. “At least three.”
“I guess I better give you a detective then.”
“I’d appreciate it. If he’s able to do it. I mean, if he has the time.”
“He’ll do it if I tell him to.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Click.
I returned to the table and my husband looked at me.
“Well?”
“He’s assigning a detective as my contact.”
“That’s great. Who is he?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
My husband and I went home, and I started the first book, The Case of the Innocent Husband. As I wrote, I jotted questions for my detective contact—who I still hadn’t heard from. One day, I decided to call the police department. Boy, was I nervous. Had the Chief kept his word? When I explained who I was, they put me through to Detective Steve Sitzes. It turned out he was waiting for me to call him!
We hit it off right away, and he was able to help me with any question I asked him. I still made mistakes, but that was entirely me.
Three years, and two more books, The Case of Mistaken Identity and The Case of the Stolen Memories, later Les and I were back in Washington for the Missouri Book Festival and our third research trip. We made an appointment with now Lieutenant Sitzes to meet him at the police station to chat and I had a signed copy of Stolen Memories, my latest book, for him.
“You know, I’m not saying you had anything to do with this or anything, but …” Lt. Sitzes smirked at me. “Ever since you started writing your books we’ve had four homicides in three years. We hadn’t had one in ten years before that.”
What could I say? I warned them before I started.
The Case of the Stolen MemoriesIt’s the beginning of a new year and Private Investigator Mackenzie Love resolves to get in better shape. But after only one week of walking before work she interrupts a burglary in progress and ends up in the middle of a murder case.
Detective Jake Sanders, the man Mac’s dating, is assigned to the murder, and Mac along with her partners Samantha Majors and Ms. Prudence Freebody are hired to find the memorabilia stolen from the time capsule in Rennick Park. The two cases intertwine and Mac finds herself once more on the wrong end of a gun!
Can Mac and Jake find the killer and the stolen property before the killer finds them?
Deborah Sprinkle is a retired chemistry teacher turned award-winning author with seven books to her name and more on the way. All romantic suspense and mysteries. She lives in Memphis with her wonderful husband, her greatest fan. Connect with Deborah at https://authordeborahsprinkle.com/ or https://www.facebook.com/deborah.sprinkle.5/
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