I work alone. I'm a private eye. When my casebook's empty — and it's empty a lot — I kill people...in my books. I wear a dark fedora and a trench coat even when it's a hundred and five in Sacramento. I pack an 11mm Marley I bought at the Archie Goodwin estate sale. But 11mm slugs? Hard to come by these days.
People say I've got attitude. Attitude they don't like. I get that a lot. The cops and me? We work toward the same end, but we're like water and electricity. They think I cramp their style. They hate that I don't have to play by their rules.
I usually end up needing a lawyer. I had one, but he was chasing an ambulance and got run over by a speeding Cooper. I'm alone and on my own. It's a mean life. I'm used to it.
Okay, really, I'm not at all like that. I'm just a mild-mannered fellow who loves mysteries. I was a detective, but I've never gone strapped, (except for cash), and I've never shot anybody and nobody's ever shot me. Now I sit at my desk and daydream, drink coffee and sometimes even get a little writing done.
I've been happily married to the beautiful Irma since 1967. While my head's in the clouds, she helps keep my feet on the ground. That ain't always easy.
I'm sure people in law enforcement laugh and/or snort at boo-boos they run across in crime fiction. They may think the writers are stupid or simply ignorant. FYI we may or may not know what we're writing about, but in writing there's a technical loophole that covers this. It's called poetic license. It's legal.
I like murder mysteries, "romans durs" and "romans noirs ". A couple of my books are not only murder mysteries, but fall under those classifications as well.
My latest effort is a sequel to The Sand Bluff Murders. Jonas McCleary is on another case trying to clear a woman suspected of having murdered her parents. The Morgenstern Murders will test McCleary's wits and endurance to the end. Due before the end of Dec. 31 from http://writewordsinc.com (Cambridge Books).