Marla A. White
Any time someone asks “why do you write mysteries” I tell them because it’s the only way to kill someone who irritates me and not go to jail. And I tend to stick to cozy mysteries because I don’t want to have to learn cop procedures. Just kidding. I still do a lot of research on cop jargon, weapons, and crimes, but I like to focus on what makes characters tick more than the policy and protocols. I leave that to the more procedural driven writers because those are the kind of details you cannot get wrong and still maintain your readers’ trust.
To me, there’s something comforting about characters living in a place where nothing truly bad happens (unless you count the dead person who usually is universally disliked anyway) and often there’s a spark of romance. It’s a nice break from real life. One of the first books I read as a kid was a Nancy Drew mystery, so detectives out of uniform who can make up the rules as they go along have always been appealing. Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe, Robert Parker’s Spenser, and of course the great Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum all get to solve crimes but bend a few laws along the way.
In truth, I’m one of those idiots that writes in multiple genres. The idea of self-discovery is a common theme throughout all of them, whether it's after losing a job, a cheating boyfriend, or the world as you knew it. It’s when characters are at their most vulnerable but also the most interesting. It’s one thing to know at the end of a cozy the killer will be caught, that’s kind of a given. But as a writer, I love the journey of writing a book where I have no idea what’s next for my characters beyond solving the core plot problem until I’ve outlined all the way to ‘The End’.
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“Framed for Murder” is the first full-length novel in the Pine Cove Mystery series. The series began with the novella, “The Starlight Mint Surprise Murder” and the characters grew on me so much I gave them their own series. In “Starlight,” Mel meets neighbor and café owner Jackson Thibodeaux and Deputy Sheriff Gregg Marks over a dead body. From the get go, both men annoyed her. Once Jackson found out about her debilitating fear of heights, he treated her like she was made of glass. Gregg thought she was perfectly capable, just not of investigating the suspicious death. She’d hung up her police badge back in L.A., after all. Their constant bickering, a leftover from high school, didn’t help. But in the end, the three came together to find justice. Now where does that leave them? That’s what I came to find out. Join me as I interview my characters! Bonus -- I tried to create images of them using AI getting...mixed results. Tell me what you think in the comments! Jackson: At The Hungry Puppy, we make healthy, nutritious food for humans and dogs alike and yes, do some baking. What was the latest crime spree you saved us from? Oh, right (leans in toward me and stage-whispers) there was a rash of houses getting toilet papered. Thank goodness the deputy was there to protect us from rambunctious teenagers. Marla: Gentlemen, before this gets too out of hand, readers are dying to know if there’s a love triangle between the two of you and Mel O’Rourke? Jackson & Gregg: (both snort derisively in agreement) No, there’s no triangle. Gregg/Jackson: Mel has feelings for me. (turn to look at each other) What? You’re crazy/You’re delusional.
Marla: What about you, Jackson? First impression? Jackson: Her fiery temper that matches her hair. It was right before Christmas and she came charging out the front door, yelling at me for taking up her guest parking. Not ten seconds later, we hear a scream from her lobby and run back to find a dead guy. (smiles) For the second time in like thirty-seconds she’s mad at me, this time for trying to protect her from seeing the corpse. Gregg: She was a cop, you idiot. Pretty sure that wasn’t her first DB. Marla: Let’s talk about that, Deputy. Currently, Mel is looking into the murder of an oil executive and you keep telling her to stay in her lane. So what’s the deal? Either she deserves the respect of having been a cop or she doesn’t? Jackson: (smirking) Yes, Deputy, do tell? Gregg: Well, like you just said, she was a cop. Past tense. She needs to stay out of the investigation before she messes up the evidence, or worse, winds up getting hurt. She nearly got killed the last time. I won’t let that happen again. Jackson: Won’t let that happen? Go ahead, order her to stand down. I can’t wait to see how that goes for you. Marla: Thank you both for talking to me today. I'm going to end this now before things get out of control.
To read more and decide for yourself who’s going to get the girl in the end, pick up a copy of “Framed for Murder” at any online book site! A few people have approached me online to ask about my writing process. Granted, they’re mostly bots trying to do God knows what, but still… And today seems like a good day to talk about it since my process, as it were, recently all went to hell in a handcart. When writing a novel, people typically fall into two categories: plotters, who plan everything in advance, or pantsers, who prefer to write spontaneously. Personally, I fall under a third category—the planster. I like to plot a novel out so I know where I’m going, but leave myself open to new story or character ideas. (Images by heidijergovsky and Abbie Paulhus from Pixabay) For instance, the character of Dearg, a Scottish eventing legend in “Cause for Elimination”, was supposed to be in the story for one scene. His sole purpose was to teach the clinic where Emily gets back her jumping mojo. Then it became two scenes, because for every step forward she needs to take two steps back, so back he came for day two, where he drives her to have a breakdown. But that wasn’t enough for my Scottish hottie. He wheedled his way into my and Emily’s heart until…well, read the book. You’ll find out.
Until I wasn’t. I meant it back in April or May when I said I had the first draft for the next in the series completed. And I really wanted to like it. I worked on it for months, after all. But you know what? I just didn’t. It had taken a dark turn on its uncharted path and I could not figure a way out of it. I’m still working on cannibalizing what I can from the first draft while creating a new, simpler outline. Because it’s easy to overcomplicate things in the race to create new story twists and more layered, conflicted characters. The bottom line—sometimes just killing people is enough. If you liked this post, please join my email list and follow me on Amazon.
If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll know that most Fridays I post a Happy Hour Drink. So why not get to know the characters from "Framed for Murder" by their cocktail of choice? Mel O’Rourke – Mel—sorry, Grandma O, I mean Emmeline—was a beat cop for seven years until a rooftop chase ended in a crushed ankle. Oddly, it was Poppy she was chasing, but more on her later. (Wine Image by Storme Kovacs from Pixabay)
Jackson Thibodeaux-- Jackson is a genius-level, disillusioned chemical engineer who left the rat race. He returned to Pine Cove and uses his skills to create culinary masterpieces for dogs and their owners at The Hungry Puppy Café. His quick smile lights up his aquamarine colored eyes.
Deputy Sheriff Gregg Marks- Gregg grew up in Pine Cove and sheepishly admits he bullied Jackson in high school. Unlike Jackson, he’s not close with his father, but more on that in the next book. More serious than Jackson, it feels like a true accomplishment for Mel when she gets him to laugh. It’s a rare but beautiful sound.
Poppy Phillips-- The mysterious cat burglar who is better known to the media and law enforcement as “The Ghost” once saved Mel's life. Sure, she was in danger because she was chasing the thief but... po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Now she's come to Pine Cove asking for help when she's accused of a murder she claims she didn't commit. But the more Mel digs into it, the less she realizes she really knows about Poppy.
Liam O’Rourke-- Mel’s younger brother and a contractor in Los Angele, Liam loves working with his hands. Which is a good thing because he’ll be needed frequently to fix the cranky old inn. What he doesn’t love is the fact that Poppy Phillips is there. He blames her for Mel’s painful weeks in the hospital and crippling fear of heights. And last but not least... Grandma O’Rourke - Grandma would say she’s an eccentric, but her daughter-in-law calls her bat-shit crazy. She got the ingredients wrong when she gave her grandchildren her famous Starlight Mint Surprise cooki recipe, resulting in no one ever topping her cookies. Crazy, or crazy like a fox? There’s only one drink for Grandma O’Rourke and that’s Irish whiskey. She prefers the peaty taste of Connemara, but any whiskey in a pinch will do. How about you? Do you have any drink, alcoholic or not, that is you go to on a hot day, cold morning, celebration or Tuesday night? Let me know in the comments!
Back in June, I was in the airport waiting in line for a cup of coffee when the woman next to me asked, “Are you a writer?” I froze, uncertain how to answer that despite the fact that I’ve published four novels and two novellas. Am I a writer? Can I really lay claim to that title? And why was the woman asking, anyway? Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to talk about my brand new release, In the Crosshairs: the Body on Leffis Key. Someone is killing people with a crossbow, but what connects the murders is a mystery, and only a birder and the aide to a dead Senator can find the answers Intro Almost all of the murders in In the Crosshairs: the Body on Leffis Key are committed by a crossbow. A crossbow consists of a short bow fixed transversely on a stock, with a groove to guide the feathered missile, usually called a bolt, a sear to hold the string in the cocked position, and a trigger to release it. The crossbow may have been invented in China as early as the sixth century, but quickly spread to Europe. Capable of piercing chain mail at a distance of up to a thousand feet, it was the most popular weapon of the Middle Ages. Originally made of wood, by the tenth century the great Italian artisans of Genoa used wrought iron or steel. Today crossbow hunting is a popular sport, but also, being silent, it is favored by snipers or for ambushes. And murderers. The hero of In the Crosshairs is a crossbow enthusiast, and when one of his collection turns up at the scene of a crime, he is the obvious suspect. Blurb Palmer Lind, recovering from the sudden death of her husband, embarks on a bird-watching trek to the Gulf Coast of Florida. One hot day on Leffis Key she comes upon—not the life bird she was hoping for—but a floating corpse. The handsome beach bum who appears on the scene at the same time seems to have even more secrets than the dead man. His story begins to unravel as the pair search for answers to a growing pile of dead bodies. Spies, radical environmentalists, and wealthy businessmen circle around each other in a complex dance. Which one is lying? What do a seemingly random group of individuals have in common, other than being targeted by a crossbow? In the Crosshairs: The Body on Leffis Key The Wild Rose Press, May 27, 2024 Mystery, Suspense 89,710 words; 392 pp. Excerpt: Arrested! When the expert had left, Thrasher reclaimed his desk. “Okay, Hawk. We’ve already ascertained that you are a crack shot with a crossbow. Know anything about antique armaments?” Something about the detective’s body language signaled to Palmer that he already knew the answer. Carson must have sensed the same thing, for he nodded. “I am a collector.” “Not only that, but you reported a robbery the day after Senator Wren was found dead.” Carson straightened, his expression wary. “So?” “Among other items, an antique crossbow and a set of bronze bolts were stolen from your apartment. Unfortunately, you could not provide paperwork for the crossbow, hindering the investigation.” “I gave the police the serial number, but the sales receipt is back at my house in Illinois. I keep all my important papers there, since I only rent a loft in DC.” “Lucky for you they accepted your explanation. Were any of the other things recovered?” “No. Well, they found my watch in a garbage can a block away.” His lip curled. “I guess they couldn’t be bothered with a Timex.” Thrasher turned a page in his file. “I had them check for any crimes committed with an uncommon weapon in the last two months. Turns out criminals are just as set in their ways as other folks. Unwilling to try out some newfangled toy, they all stuck with their illegal Smith and Wessons. So.” He closed the file and locked his eyes on Carson. “I’ve been exploring a new hypothesis. That you were never robbed.” Palmer gasped. “You mean, that I brought the crossbow with me to Florida and used it to kill Tipsy Swallow?” Carson’s voice was taut and low. Thrasher shrugged. “Let’s say he traced you here. You discovered he was on your trail and waited for your opportunity. I’ve been reading up on crossbows. They’re not good for close quarters—not like, say, a blunderbuss. You could hit a target from some distance.” “They have a range of up to a thousand feet,” said Carson wearily. “Right.” Thrasher beamed at him. “So you shot him—likely from your bass boat. Then you motored to one of the Sisters, extracted the arrow—excuse me, bolt—dragged the jon boat into the brush, and went your merry way.” “Why didn’t I simply leave him to drift? That way there wouldn’t be any clues that I’d been in the vicinity.” “According to the autopsy, the metal filings in Swallow’s heart indicated the bolt had been ripped from the body, which means you must have had contact with your victim after he was dead. I asked myself, why would you do that? Why not split before you were caught?” “Because the bolt could be traced back to me.” “Bingo.” “Okay, how did I manage two boats?” “Tied a line to his bow and towed him.” Thrasher sat back with a self-satisfied air. Carson leaned forward. “When I got out of my boat to retrieve the bolt, why didn’t I leave the crossbow behind? Why lug it along?” “Hmm. Maybe you wanted to be sure he was dead?” He peered at Carson, who sat rigid in his chair, his face a mask. “Have I left anything out?” Carson exhaled. “Motive?” “That’s the easy part. Swallow worked for Wilfred Vogel. Vogel is a key supporter of Senator Wren. Vogel is not pleased that you’ve killed his golden boy. He sends Swallow to bring you back to face justice.” Carson’s eyes were troubled. “It doesn’t make sense.” “Does to me.” “I mean, aside from the fact that I didn’t kill either Wren or Swallow, why would Vogel be upset that Wren died? The senator was sponsoring a bill that Vogel adamantly opposes. I’d say the timing of Atticus’s demise worked in his favor.” “Only for that particular bill. As I understand it, Wren and Vogel agreed on ninety-nine percent of the issues. Vogel is one of the richest men in the world. He’s used to getting his own way. Your disposing of a fellow traveler and source of his power over Congress would stick in his craw. He wouldn’t think twice about taking the law into his own hands.” Carson muttered something about watching too many Godfather flicks. Palmer put a placating hand on his arm. “What are you going to do, Captain?” Thrasher opened his door. “Officer?” Sergeant Jaeger came in. The captain faced Carson. “Carson Hawk, I’m arresting you for the murder of Tipsy Swallow. Ollie, read him his rights.” Palmer slumped in her chair. Her mind was in turmoil. She wanted to shout, to howl that Carson was innocent, that this was all a misunderstanding, that Thrasher was an idiot. Her mouth opened and shut again. She watched the policeman take Carson away, unable to move. About the Author: Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. She has published seventeen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine. Contacts:
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If you could choose any profession other than your current one, what would it be, and why?
Why on Earth would I choose to be something other than a wealthy socialite? What is your guilty pleasure or secret hobby that you wouldn't readily admit to others? Once in a while, I get obsessed with putting together jigsaw puzzles. It’s like an addiction, I’ll won’t leave it even to go riding. What is your favorite book, and how does it resonate with you personally? Whatever the current hockey romance book I’m reading, and it resonates with me because it’s all about gorgeous people having amazing sex. Sometimes I learn new things too! Share a quirky habit or superstition that you have. If you tell anyone I will hurt you, but I like to sing in the shower. If you could time travel, which era or historical event would you visit? To the mid 1950’s and the beginning of rock and roll. Could you imagine how exciting it must have been to see Elvis perform live on stage? If you could meet any fictional character, who would it be, and what would you want to ask or discuss with them? She’s not exactly fictional, but I didn’t know that when I saw the movie “The Unsinkable Molly Brown” and immediately wanted to be her. Then I read about the real woman and found she was so much more. Her work with women’s rights, her charity work, I’d want to talk to her about anything except the Titanic. I’m sure if the poor woman never talked about that horrible night again it would be too soon. If you were granted one wish, with no restrictions, what would you wish for, and why? Off the top of my head, it would be that everyone’s life be as fabulous as mine but that would make me sound way too philanthropic, so I guess peace on Earth? Did Justin already say that? In my last blog post, you got to meet Emily and read her answers to a few questions. This week, meet Justin and Dennis, images courtesy of an AI program that made some hilarious mistakes but in the end, more or less nailed what my characters looked like. Justin is on the left, Dennis is the redhead on the right. Enjoy! JUSTIN If you could choose any profession other than your current one, what would it be, and why? After my one disastrous ride it wouldn’t be cowboy, that’s for sure! I think a psychologist, I love figuring out what makes people tick. What is your guilty pleasure or secret hobby that you wouldn't readily admit to others? As long as it’s just between us, I’m a Dungeons and Dragons nerd. What is your favorite book and how does it resonate with you personally? “Thank You and Okay” by David Chadwick. I dabble in being Zen and, like the author, spent some time in a monastery in Japan. His stories, both hilarious and touching, really hit home for me. Share a quirky habit or superstition that you have. I have one of those desktop Zen gardens with the sand and the rocks that I tend to rake over and over again when I’m thinking, If you could meet any fictional character, who would it be, and what would you want to ask or discuss with them? I’m a big Lord of The Rings fan, hence I got who Em’s cat Samwise is named after, but of all the characters I’d want to talk to Faramir the most. That guy had the biggest heart despite having a messed-up father. If you were granted one wish, with no restrictions, what would you wish for, and why? I’m guessing peace on earth and an end to world hunger would sound overly noble, so probably for Emily to stay safe. That job of hers is crazy, not to mention her “classic” truck. DENNIS If you could choose any profession other than your current one, what would it be, and why? Fireman. In my family, you were either a cop or a smoke eater. What is your guilty pleasure or secret hobby that you wouldn't readily admit to others? Who has time for a hobby? Although a guilty pleasure is messing with Jay’s rock garden on his desk. Sometimes I hide his rake just for s*#ts and giggles. What is your favorite book, and how does it resonate with you personally? Does a comic book count? Share a quirky habit or superstition that you have. I’m Irish, I have a boatload of superstitions. If you don’t pick up a coin when you see it, you’ll have bad luck, fairies are real, if you knock over a chair while standing up its bad luck – there’s a laundry list. If you could time travel, which era or historical event would you visit? I would go back to the year before my wife left me and try harder to make her love me again. Or, if that fails, leave her first. If you were granted one wish, with no restrictions, what would you wish for, and why? What did Justin say? He’s filthy rich so I’m guessing world peace b.s. I’d ask to be able to drink all the beer I want and never get a gut. Come back next week to learn about Lottie!
I had fun during this year's Facebook Winter Games with character interviews and creating AI images of them based on my description. The results were often hilarious, but I finally got four fairly close images of what the characters look like in my mind. Once a week I'll come back to share their images and the answers to the questions I asked each of them. Enjoy! Emily Conners
As the youngest of six kids, I’ve been living with hand-me-downs my whole life. When I was really young, my oldest sister gave me her old, broken watch. I thought it was the coolest thing ever, even if it didn’t work.
You’d think that would have turned me off to the concept of hand-me-downs, but I came to accept them as part of life. In fact, after I left home and moved to LA, I started to love them. At first, a friend with much better taste than mine gave me clothes she’d gotten tired of or grew out of. Score! My boss/mentor/friend gave me some cocktail dresses, knowing I’d never buy them. It came in really handy when I was riding as that stuff gets really expensive. Sweaters with old company logos, ski jackets that were out of style…in fact, I’m wearing a t-shirt I got from a friend who it doesn’t fit anymore.
Because I have no problems with hand-me-downs, I cheerfully accepted. And I LOVE rhubarb in anything, so how could I go wrong? Per the label, it’s made of organic rhubarb, beets, carrots, lemon, spices including cardamom and vanilla, among other things. Not being fond of beets and so-so on carrots, I was skeptical that my beloved rhubarb would still carry the day. The bottle came with a little pamphlet of recipes, but it seemed like Root as pretty much interchangeable with gin or vodka. I opted for a classic Gimlet, substituting Rhubarb (tea) for gin. The rhubarb and other veggies blended nicely with the lime and a bit of simple syrup. If a cocktail has beets in it, does that make it a health drink? I rate this 5 out of 5 yums. Trying to find a spot for this and the other orphan bottles in my liquor cabinet made me take a bit of inventory and discovered other gifted bottles. It’s like my house is the Island of Misfit Alcohol. Stay tuned while I try out the other mystery drinks!
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