Book Blitzin’ with Lesbians on the Loose!

Lesbians on the loose book blitz

Hey, peeps! So I have a longish short story published in the BRAND NEW ANTHOLOGY Lesbians on the Loose: Crime Writers on the Lam. My story is called “The Falcone Maltese,” and it’s the first YA piece I’ve published. In the story, our intrepid high school sleuth Nattie Brew sets out to solve a dog-napping of a prize Maltese show dog from the Falcone household. It helps, of course, that Jo Falcone is a classmate of Nattie’s. And Nattie’s current crush. Join Nattie as she tries to solve the dastardly deed and maybe catch Jo’s eye in the process. See below for an excerpt.

So go have a look at the goodies!

Book Blitz

51pxSz1jhZLBook Title: Lesbians on the Loose: Crime Writers on the Lam
Editors: Lori L. Lake and Jessie Chandler
Genre: Lesbian Mystery Anthology
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Goodreads Button with Shadow

Book Blurb

These tales of murder, mayhem, and suspense will keep you up way past your bedtime!

The lesbians on the loose in this collection are an entertaining mix of protagonists: cops, amateur sleuths, a PI, a judge, a bounty hunter, and one very insightful dog. There’s even an intrepid high schooler and a mystery writer.

Despite greed and grief, rage and revenge, secrets and lies, many of the stories feature humor from a variety of characters trying to find their way in a difficult world–cops who’ve seen too much, revenge seekers, and women who want justice for themselves and others.

You won’t regret going on the lam with these terrific writers: Elizabeth Sims, Carsen Taite, SY Thompson, Andi Marquette, Linda M. Vogt, VK Powell, Kate McLachlan, Lori L. Lake, Lynn Ames, Sandra de Helen, Jen Wright, Sue Hardesty, Jessie Chandler, J.M. Redmann, and Katherine V. Forrest

excerpt

Excerpt from The Falcone Matese by Andi Marquette

“Did you hear? One of Mrs. Falcone’s show dogs is missing.” Fred lowered his voice to sound like he was all conspiratorial or something. “Big city problems come to a small town. Next thing you know, we’ll be the center of a missing dog black market.” He was currently going through a Duran Duran phase, as evidenced by his mass of messy hair streaked with blue, black Simon LeBon pants, as he called them, and modish black boots. He wore a deep red button-down shirt and a black skinny tie. The Union Jack took up the bottom half of the tie. His book bag also had a Union Jack on it, along with several pins of bands he liked.

“That’s majorly bogus. Which dog?” Nattie took her biology book and notebook out of her locker. She feigned only passing interest but she thought immediately of Jo, Mrs. Falcone’s daughter, and one of Nattie’s classmates. And also her current crush. She glanced at the lockers next to her to make sure nobody was listening to their conversation. The locker to her right was open and the inside of the door was plastered with various sheets of paper that said “Seniors Kick Ass” and “Class of ’85” in different colors though this was the juniors’ hall. The locker’s owner had a crush on a senior boy.

“Giorgio. But they call him Gigi. The paper said if you see him running around, try calling him with both names.”

“How did it happen?” Nattie asked.

“Cops said somebody broke in.”

Nattie closed the locker door with her foot. “So the dog was stolen.”

“Way.” He twirled his sunglasses in one hand.

Nattie shoved a pen into her back pocket next to her comb. “Who would steal a dog out of somebody’s house?” And in this town, where everybody knew everybody else?

“Therein lies the mystery.” He leaned in, like he was about to share a major secret. “You should totally take the case. Nattie Brew, Detective at Large.”

She laughed. “Oh, right. Because I didn’t get in enough trouble the last time.”

“Since when has that ever stopped you?”

“Since I was totally grounded for a month.”

“This is different. You probably wouldn’t have to break into anything. Plus,” he added with a smirk, “I’m sure you’ll have Jo Falcone’s undying gratitude.” He pretended to swoon.

Nattie’s cheeks flared with heat. “Shut up.”

“Undying gratitude,” he repeated, grinning.

“Fred—”

“Hey, fag. This hall is now for seniors. Not butt ugly faggy juniors.”

Nattie’s stomach clenched. Josh Jacobs was a major dickweed. And always with a few other dickweeds from the football team. Three, today, and they all guffawed at the insult.

Fred gave him an “oh, please” look. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”

Josh’s fake smile disappeared. “Flamer.” He shoved Fred hard, knocking him into the locker next to Nattie’s.

Several other students stopped to watch.

“Takes one to know one,” Fred said..

The crowd uttered a collective “ohhh” in acknowledgement of a good comeback.
Josh reached for him. “Piece of—”

“Leave him alone,” Nattie said. Her voice didn’t sound as scared as she felt. Her knees were shaking.

Josh turned, puzzled, as if it never occurred to him that anybody would say anything. “What?”

“Leave him alone. Go waste somebody else’s time.” Her heart pounded in her ears and she forced herself not to run down the hall.

He glared, his hands clenched into fists. “You a fag, too?”

“Not likely, since ‘fag’ is an insult most often applied to guys. Or, in England, a term used for cigarettes.”

Several students snickered. Josh shifted his glare to the small crowd. The giggles died immediately.

“Is there a problem here?”

Nattie’s knees almost buckled in relief as Mr. Grafton approached from his classroom down the hall.

“No,” Josh said.

Mr. Grafton looked at Nattie.

“Not anymore,” she said.

Fred shook his head.

“All right,” Mr. Grafton said. “Everybody get to class.”

Josh gave Nattie a final glare before he walked away, his posse of teammates right behind him.

Nattie looked at Fred and they stared for a moment before bursting into nervous laughter.

“Major dickweed.” Fred adjusted his bag and smoothed the front of his shirt.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You’re so big and strong,” he teased. “Jo will totally appreciate it.”

Nattie rolled her eyes. “Be careful, okay?”

“I’ll just run and find you. Nobody messes with you ’cause of your dad.” He batted his eyes.

“If that’s what it takes.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Nattie rarely talked about her dad at school, but everybody knew he was with the sheriff’s department. She never talked about her mom, either, who had died when she was a toddler.

“Gotta go,” Fred said. “Catch you later.”

She watched him, since Josh was right down the hall leaning against a locker. But he was busy hanging all over—Nattie stared a few more moments—Pam Howard? Pam was back with that jerkoff? Gag. She checked to make sure Fred had gotten past Josh then went to class.

“Hey, Nattie,” Jo said as Nattie approached the door to the biology classroom. She was leaning against the wall, holding her books in front, flat against her waist. She wore her basic Jo uniform, as Nattie categorized it. Loose jeans pegged at the ankles above her black high top Chucks and a light blue T-shirt rolled up at the sleeves. She also wore a men’s black vest over her shirt, which added to her boyish look but in a good way. She’d started streaking her dark hair blonde in the front, which only made her cuter.

“Hi.” Nattie hoped she sounded calm and cool.

“Got a sec?” Jo pushed off the wall.

“Yeah.” Ohmigod.

Jo stepped away from the doorway and the students filing in. She moved closer and lowered her voice. “My mom’s best show dog was stolen.”

“I know. I heard. I’m really sorry.”

“Um. So, do you think you could help find him? I mean, if you want to. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble or anything.”

Nattie stared at her.

“I mean, after the last time you solved something, I wasn’t sure I should ask, but you’re really good at finding stuff, so—”

“Yes,” she said, and immediately regretted it, but only a little. Her dad didn’t have to know.

Jo grinned. “Really? Awesome. Could you come over after school today?”

“Uh—” Nattie had never been inside Jo’s house and the thought made her nervous, but giddy, too.

“To see where it happened. The scene of the crime.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Awesome. Meet me after school by the parking lot.”

Nattie followed her in and took a seat on the opposite side of the room. Jo sat nearer the back, and Nattie wished the order was reversed so she could see her during class. She opened her notebook and started listing potential suspects in Giorgio’s dognapping and possible motives. Jo would have some ideas, too. She shoved the other thoughts she had of Jo out of her mind. This was an investigation, after all.

Meet the Editors

Lori L. Lake – In addition to writing books, Lori teaches fiction writing courses and workshops, most recently for The Oregon Writers Colony and The Golden Crown Literary Society. She lives in Portland, Oregon, where she is currently at work on a romance, the fifth Gun Series book, an historical anthology, and the first book in a writing guide series called SPARKING CREATIVITY: WORDS OF WISDOM TO INSPIRE YOUR WRITING CRAFT. For more information, see her website at http://www.LoriLLake.com.

Jessie Chandler is the award-winning author of the Shay O’Hanlon Caper series. Her debut novel, Bingo Barge Murder, was a finalist for a Goldie and won the Golden Crown Ann Bannon Popular Choice Award. Hide and Snake Murder, the second novel in the series, won a Golden Crown Goldie Award, and an IPPY–Independent Publisher Book Award for LGBT fiction. Hide and Snake Murder and the third in the series, Pickle in the Middle Murder, were both finalists, and Chip Off the Ice Block Murder, the fourth Shay O’Hanlon book, won the LGBT fiction category of the 2014 USA Book Awards. Chip Off the Ice Block Murder was also a finalist in the mystery category of the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards.

Chandler lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota with her wife and two mutts, Fozzy Bear and Ollie. In the fall and winter, Jessie writes, and spends her summers selling T-shirts and other assorted trinkets to unsuspecting conference and festival goers.

Social Media

websitewebsitetwitterFacebookFacebookGoodreadsGoodreads

Buy the Book

51pxSz1jhZLamazon usamazon UKB&Nkobo

BEPRectangle

—–

There you go! All kinds of goodies n’ stuff! Hope you decide to check it out! Happy Sunday!

Oldies but goodies (plus update)

Hi, kids!

First, the anthology I co-edited with R.G. Emanuelle is now available in print! WOOO! Go get some.

AllYouCanEat-197x300

And second, I’ve been doing a lot of mystery/thriller reading these days, trying to get inspired to write a mystery/thriller short story. I’ve never written a short story in that genre, so I’m a little tentative about it. I do have an idea, but I haven’t really had the time to sit down and hammer away at it. I’m hoping this weekend is the key.

Anyway, I just finished Walter Satterthwait’s Joshua Croft series, which he published in the late 1980s and early- mid-1990s. Croft is a PI in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and the five books (listed HERE) are full of local color and the quirks and vagaries not only of Santa Fe, but of northern New Mexico and its myriad characters. For that alone these are worth the read, but what Satterthwait does so damn brilliantly is characterization and dialogue.

Croft is a wiseass, and the snappy interchanges between him and the other characters that fill these books with New Mexico goodness and maybe a touch of Southwestern noir lend great pacing to the plot arcs and subplots. Satterthwait is a master at pacing, and his descriptions and turns of phrase can be both brilliant and laugh-out-loud hilarious. Witness this, from The Hanged Man, the fourth in the series (that deals with murder most foul in a part of Santa Fe’s new agey community). Here, Croft is about to interview someone who was at the gathering at which a man was later found murdered. He’s gone to her house and is noticing its décor:

The basic motif here appeared to be Egyptian. …There was enough marble in the room to slap together a life-sized replica of the Parthenon. Even the floor was marble, black, as shiny as obsidian. That floor might be pleasant in the summer, on the two of three days when the temperature in Santa Fe rose above eighty-five degrees. During the winter, it was probably a bitch to keep warm. But I suppose that if you could afford a marble floor, you didn’t worry about heating the thing. You just marched your Nubian slaves in from time to time and had them breathe on it. [p. 26]

And one of the interesting things is that there are LGBT characters that pop up in some of the books, and they’re not treated disparagingly. They’re part of the fabric of the culture in Santa Fe, and for books written in the late ’80s and early 90s, that’s actually really cool.

Anyway, I also read crime fiction written years ago to get a sense of how investigation has changed over the years, and what techniques people used to track down suspects. Having a historical sense of shifts in methodology, I think, can help a writer develop a better sense of the many different ways people use to find information. And indeed, ol’ skool is still used for some things today. Reading authors like Satterthwait not only gives you a sense of shoe-leather approaches, but also of how that type of investigation can influence pacing, characterization, and plot arc.

Reading someone like Satterthwait, who weaves the setting so beautifully into his plots and whose characterization is so good, can also provide you some guidance on writing a thriller/mystery with regard to those elements, and how they should work.

So with that in mind, read the oldies, friends. You can find lists of them at links like this:

Stop, You’re Killing Me!
The Top 100 Thrillers of All Time
100 Mysteries and Thrillers to read in a Lifetime (Amazon list)
Mystery Thriller Writers (Wikipedia list)
Edgar Awards Database at Mystery Writers of America
History of crime fiction

Happy reading, happy writing, happy Wednesday!