I collect gemstones, I eat salsa from the jar with a spoon,
and I went to school to be a sound engineer in a recording studio.
We’re talking about A Luring Murder today. Can you tell us a
bit about it?
I wrote A Luring Murder at the request of fans. Initially I
had written a different book 2 for the series, but at the end of A Grand Murder
the main character Catherine O’Brien is going on vacation with her husband. I
kept getting emails and reviews that said I can’t wait to find out what happens
on this vacation. The only problem was the next book took place several months
later. After a friend of mine insisted that she had to know what happened on
vacation I decided to write A Luring Murder. So this one is for the fans of the
first book because they asked for it.
A Luring Murder is the second in a series. The first being A Grand Murder. What inspired this
series?
I love series mysteries but there wasn’t a series for
someone like me. I’m too old now to appreciate a 20-something bimbo running
around with a gun who stumbles on dead bodies, while trying to find love, but
I’m too young for the granny sleuth mysteries. Catherine is in between the two.
What are the
challenges in writing a series verses a one off book?
Continuity is a huge problem. I end up having to re-read my
books to double check eye color and back story details. I think the problem is
I write by the seat of my pants and I’m not organized at all. If I were more organized I would write these
details down, but I never do.
The main character of your series is Catherine O’Brien, tell
us a bit about her. Was she inspired by something in yourself or someone you
know?
Catherine is irreverent. She has a tendency to say what’s on
her mind without much in the way of tact. My sister swears Catherine is me, so
I guess I need to work on the filter from my brain to my mouth (LOL). There are
certain aspects to her personality that are like me, but I pull things from
other people as well.
Why this genre?
When I started writing novel length fiction I started out in
romance. Then an editor told me I had the highest body count she’d ever seen in
a romance novel. She told me my romance fell down but suggested I focus on guy
the mystery. It was handy information to have and I am very grateful to her for
her suggestion.
In the books, we find
out about Catherine’s coffee addiction what is your favorite coffee treat?
Quad shot, venti, caramel macchiato from Starbucks. I’m a
complete addict.
What do you find most
difficult and most rewarding in being a writer?
For me the most difficult thing is the social networking
explosion. People expect you to be online and accessible. I’m a recluse. I love
my privacy so I really struggle with the social promotion explosion. The most
rewarding part is hearing people tell me they laughed out loud in public when they
read my book. All I want to do is entertain people, so to have someone tell me
they found an escape in my books is awesome.
I have 3 books going right now. On audio in my car is Married
with Zombies by Jesse Petersen, on my Kindle is Decision Points by George W.
Bush, and on my night stand is Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins.
Do you have any
projects or WIP that you can tell us about?
I’m working on what will now be the 4th book in the
series. I don’t want to tell too much
about it because it’s still rough draft so there will likely be major changes
before this one hits the shelf. Then I have an idea for a book that is not part
of the series, so I might take a short break from Catherine and Louise.
Where can we find
Stacy Verdick Case and Catherine O’Brien?
http://www.StacyVerdickCase.com
https://twitter.com/SVerdickCase
A Luring Murder Excerpt
Anderson
screwed his hat onto his head then stuffed his hands into the front pockets of
his jeans like a pouty child.
A Luring Murder Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
When
I went to bed last night, I was spooned against my husband on my first vacation
in ten years. Never mind that the vacation, fishing at a Minnesota resort, is at the top of my personal
list of hells.
By
morning I was damp, shivering and alone under the covers. My husband, and two
other men I’d never seen before stood next to the bed and stared at me like I
was the prize winning pig at a State Fair.
Gavin, my loving husband, leaned into my ear and
whispered, “There’s been a murder, Catherine.”
If there’s one word in the English language that
could take you from zero to awake in less than a second the word is murder. I
was on my feet and out the door in seconds.
Now I stood sentinel – playing gatekeeper to the
crime scene and oracle to the sheriff and deputy of this podunk little town.
Thankfully, my duty would end as soon as the Bureau
of Criminal Apprehension arrived. Then I could get back to my God forsaken
vacation.
“Detective O’Brien.”
I turned on my heels to face the middle-aged man
puffing his way up the hill toward me.
“You can call me Catherine you know, Sheriff. I’m not
here in an official capacity. I’m a tourist in this town. Remember?”
His lips twisted up into a blushing, no-I-don’t-think-I-could-do-that,
grin. At least he’d stopped calling me ma’am – the moniker he’d been using
since my early morning verbal ice bath.
Sheriff Anderson held his baseball cap, with the
local Sheriff’s department logo ironed on the front like a cheap truckers hat,
in both hands and twisted the bill in a reflexive gesture. Anderson
stared at me as if he’d forgotten why he’d come to see me.
“Have you come to release me from my guard
duties?” I said.
“Ah, sorry but no.”
I doubted very much if he were sorry. While I played
goalie to the fiendish gawkers who just wanted a peek at the body, he
campaigned for his next run at sheriff. Every local who approached with
concern, and a smidge of morbid curiosity, left with the assurance that the
case was well in hand and a suspect would soon be in custody.
Apparently, (since we hadn’t yet found any evidence
that would help us track down a killer) the truth had no place in Sheriff
Anderson’s reelection campaign. Anderson
seemed to make up the details as he went along. He doled out lies to the locals
as easy as a traveling carnival barker who claimed their midway games weren’t
fixed.
“I was wondering,” he said. “If you know how much
longer before the BCA arrives? The
resort owners are upset about us locking up their fish house.”
The fish house was situated near the beach surrounded
by trees on all sides, and Mrs. Peterman had haunted the trees since early
morning. Not wanting me to see her, Mrs. Peterman wove through the trees like a
timber wolf hunting prey.
“Mr. and Mrs. Peterman will just have to get over
it,” I said. “Even when the BCA arrives the fish house will be locked up for as
long as it takes to gather all the evidence.”
“Well, maybe I’ll just have Mrs. Peterman come talk
to you about the fish house then.”
A cowardly answer, though not completely unexpected.
“You do that, Sheriff,” I said. “Was there anything
else you needed?”
I hadn’t had coffee yet today, because my host for
the next two weeks believes that tea is the preferred way to open your eyes in
the morning. To me, it was what you drank when you had diarrhea.
My level of patience was directly tied to the amount
of coffee coursing through my veins. My tank was dangerously low, and I was in
no mood for Mrs. Peterman.
Did you enjoy the chat and excerpt? Have you read A Grand Murder? Let us know what you think Gladiators love comments :)
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