I like serial killers because I want to know why people do the things they do—specifically the really bad stuff. How can someone be so twisted up in their head they can torture another human being, especially a child? What happened to us in adolescence shapes who we are as people, and that’s definitely the case for some serial killers. But not all serial killers are equal (and not all are psychopaths) but they are all unique. This is essentially the basis for the hit Netflix show MINDHUNTERS, based on John Douglass’s book. The main characters are based on Douglas and another pioneer in the behavioral science unit, Robert Ressler. And please note, there are MANY more key profilers who helped create the BSU, including Robert Keppel and Roy Hazelwood. In the 70s, talking to people like Ed Kemper—having a real conversation with him without showing any disgust for his crimes—was unthinkable. But the profilers pressed on and changed how we catch and study criminals. The show is amazing. Highly encourage you to watch if you haven’t already!

But the crux of the show and their research is this: what are these killers thinking, and why did they do those horrible things? Kemper’s issues go back to his mother—when you hear his stories, it’s not a huge shock he became a killer. Others are wired that way. Gary Ridgway/The Green River Killer told psychiatrists he wanted to see what killing felt like, although he also had a serious lack of confidence around women and saw prostitutes as trash; Bundy wanted to control and frighten, and he wanted private time with the bodies; Jeffrey Dahmer had a substance abuse problem and issues with his sexuality but he had a normal upbringing and no specific triggers in his background. BTK was a family man who deftly compartmentalized his life into specific boxes, keeping careful not to allow his killing box to intersect his personal life, until his ego got the best of him. If you’re interested in Radar, read Katherine Ramsland’s book on him, CONFESSIONS OF A SERIAL KILLER. She spent several years interviewing BTK, and the information comes straight from the source.

We know all of these things (and a whole lot more I don’t have space for) because of guys like Douglas, Ressler, Keppel and Hazelwood, and many more. We can never truly understand these people because we don’t know what it’s like to live in their heads. But we can certainly study and try, and that helps law enforcement catch them. And it helps writers come up with seriously scary villains.

Every one of my bad guys—including my Ripper character—is inspired by research into the dark and twisted. I certainly don’t compare what I do to the likes of Douglas and his cohorts, but I do try and understand as much of the bad guy’s psyche as possible before I start writing. The antagonist—and in my case, usually the killer—drives the plot. Everything the protagonist does is really in reaction to whatever the villain is doing, so it’s crucial to understand every little detail about him before I start writing. 99% of that backstory doesn’t make it into a novel. But it still shapes the entire story.

Have you read KILLING JANE? Reviewers are love!

Life has gotten in the way of my career since September. My mother’s health declined, and then on Tuesday, November 29th, she fell and ended up with a compound fracture to her right leg. Both bones broken and exposed, and one hell of a wound. Her multitude of health issues affected her ability to heal (including diabetes), so the surgeon gave her a 50/50 shot of keeping her foot. Almost 17 weeks later, she’s getting close to being able to bear weight again. The massive wound is down to a flesh wound, and we are hoping the surgeon takes the rods out of her foot soon. Last fall, my parents were also taken advantage of by the person who bought their farm and were essentially run out of their home of 30 years by a hog confinement they were tricked into allowing. That’s a long story, but Karma is a vengeful bitch. When mom fell, we already knew they were moving near us (finally!) because the toxicity of a hog implement 600 feet away from their home wasn’t an option. Because of mom’s injury and the need for care, we set her up in a facility near me until the wound healed. For a few months, Dad drove up on weekends to see her. I suddenly found myself responsible for her care, all of their finances and legal paperwork, as well as getting them ready to move out of the house I grew up in. Compound that with Mom being stuck in a nursing home (which has been a great place for her), and I felt pulled in about a hundred directions. I hated the idea of her sitting there alone, so I spent a lot of my days with her. Getting back to any kind of routine was impossible, and my head was full of everything BUT writing. And there was the daily worry about this day being her last one, or an infection setting in.

I’m an emotional person, and I think that helps my creativity. But it also means I live my life on a rollercoaster, and a lot of my emotions have been tied up with my parents’ issues and hurtful accusations from people I never dreamed could be so callous. Anger, sadness, confusion, absolute fear of mom dying, feeling alone, and then back to anger — and the worst part was the inability to understand how much everything effected me. My husband has been a constant support system, encouraging me to get back to writing because I have a television deal in the works. “Everything’s about to happen to you,” he’d say. “You can’t waste this opportunity. You need to get busy on the next book because the production team is going to sell this, and then they’re going to want season 2.”

I knew he was right, and I tried. I plotted, wrote a scene or two, plotted some more. All here and there, when I could fit it in between the 900 other things going on, including the voices in my head. I lost so much sleep imagining how I could defend myself to people who’ve already made up their minds and will never see things any different. That’s a battle I had to walk away from, because it dried me up emotionally, and nothing’s going to change it.

I kept telling my husband that I’d used up whatever creativity I had. I couldn’t even visualize writing another book, much less one that would be better than the last and worthy of the exceptions of my (very understanding) publisher and excited production studio. I kept trying to work, but every time it looked like I’d be able to get back into a routine and find some spark, the Next Terrible Thing happened.

Finally came the cat bites to my index finger and thumb, and a fast moving infection that could have easily cost me my finger. I had emergency surgery and then spent 4 days in the hospital feeling helpless and finished. And then the surgeon tells me it will be 6 weeks to 3 months before I have full range of motion. At the time, my index finger was still very stiff from the extreme swelling in the tendon. How in the hell was I supposed to work?

Thankfully, I was able to get away from normal life for a while. I made it to the state swim meet to watch my daughter, and then she and I took a much needed vacation to Florida to see my closest friends. Maybe that’s what saved me. After we got back, things seemed to stabilize. A routine emerged. I started wanting to read again, and I started making more and more notes for the new book. I decided to try dictation because of my hand—although I got very lucky and my fingers work fairly well, and I can type. But talking into the mic about the book seemed to jumpstart something, and without even realizing it, I WANTED to write again. And I had ideas! Ideas for Hyde and Seek (Erin Prince #2), for a new indie series, and maybe even another Cage Foster novel.

This week, it all clicked. Between dictation and typing, I created a scene by scene synopsis and wrote 10,000 words on the new book. I hated to stop each day because I enjoyed it so much. That’s a feeling I’d forgotten.

When I told my editor, she declared the lights were back on.

And that’s exactly right. I’ve struggled to explain how I’ve felt this winter, using words like dull and numb and stupid, but she hit the nail on the head. My creative lights had gone black. I didn’t think they would come back on. But they are bright as day right now, and I’m taking advantage of it.

The point of this post isn’t to get a bunch of sympathy or brag about my writing and the television opportunity (although some people are going to take it that way, and those are the ones I’ve realized add nothing of value to my life). It’s to tell you that we all go through extreme lows. Most writers are emotional people, and when that balance is upset by stress and life’s jackhammers, you’re going to stop being able to write. And that’s okay. Give yourself the time to walk away from the keyboard and replenish. Fill up your well, as my editor says. Because eventually, things will swing back up. You’ll see daylight again, and you’ll want to create. Take care of yourself first, and the rest will fall back into place.

I promise.

As an author building my brand, I know I shouldn’t post some of the things I do, even though I keep it on my personal page. And I’ve certainly gone against much of my family in my posts, although that is probably par for the course at this point in my life. Posting my opinion and fears made me feel better, despite possible ramifications.

Here’s why. A lot of writers (or anyone in a creative field) are highly emotional people. We live on a rollercoaster of ups and downs, and that’s sometimes DOUBLED because if we’re doing it right, we’re suffering through our character’s woes as well. My mind never stops, and it’s full of about 900 different threads. Some are work related, many are family: my parents; issues between myself and others that have me baffled and hurt; Grace’s daily stuff. At any given time, there’s a conversation going on in my head. It might be something I want to say to a family member but never can, or maybe how I’ll deal with the attorney for my parents tomorrow, or even how to help Grace work through an issue. My point is, it’s all fueled by emotion. And often fear of the unknown is right on its heels. So add in something as volatile as politics and the future of our country, and things become a powder keg.

We see so many terrible things going on, and we read way too much on FB, and we just keep absorbing and absorbing, and then we’ve got to speak.

I probably spoke too much. To all of the family members and friends I offended: I never meant to target you in anger. I never meant to say you personally are racist, anti-semitic, anti-everything but straight, white male. When I wrote those posts, I wrote them with a vary specific subset of Trump supporters in mind, but I probably generalized the posts too much. I’m sad for the divide it’s probably caused with some family members, although the gap was already very established. I’m sad for anyone I made feel badly or targeted by my posts because that’s just another form of hate and fear that so many of us are afraid of for the next four years.

I do stand by the things I said. Putting them on Facebook isn’t the answer, however, because all it does is incite arguments and push-back. Clearly, no Facebook or Twitter status ever swayed a vote. But when you run on emotion like I do, and your life is so full of personal and business responsibilities, you feel like social media is the only way you can make a difference and get your voice heard. And how can we stay silent when we see terrible things happening, and we have so much fear for our future?

Social media isn’t the answer. It’s full of targeted hate and threats. Trying to make any point on whatever platform you choose is probably going to be ignored at best.

So what can I do?  I can donate to the various groups who are willing and able to protect civil rights and the environment. I can keep my eyes open in my community for hate crimes or threats, and I can educate my child that we must be tolerant of others’ opinions even if we don’t agree, but intolerant of bigotry and cruelty. I can teach her that skin color and religious preference don’t matter, and that we stand up to bullying in any form. I can set the best example I can for her and encourage her to do the same for her peers. I can tell her that even though times are scary, we are all going to be okay.

Because I have to believe that’s true.

If you want to donate time and/or money to groups fighting to protecting civil and human rights, click here.

http://www.leelofland.com/wordpress/stacy-green-writers-need-the-wpa-because-readers-are-smart/

So what does this have to do with being a thriller author? One word: distraction. I don’t know how it works for authors of other genres, but writing about all things dark and twisted takes its toll on a person. In order to put the reader into the moment, I’ve got to be in the character’s shoes. That means trying to process how he or she is feeling. One of my favorite quotes from Jensen Ackles is when he’s describing one of the best scenes in Season 4 of Supernatural. The scene involves Dean telling Sam about hell and the things he did while he was there. It’s heartbreaking, and Jensen said after the shot, he just had to walk away because he was an emotional wreck. It didn’t matter that Jensen didn’t have Dean’s forty years in hell to draw from – he still put himself at an emotional place and used that to make the scene work.

That’s not much different than what writers do. Grieving mother, sick killer, abused kid–whoever our character is, we’ve got to get into their heads. Believe me, that wears a person out.

And so the distractions come in. Now, I’m the first to admit I probably have too many distractions, but that’s another post. Sometimes, when I’ve written a particularly rough scene, I hop onto my favorite websites in search of something to make me laugh or say aww.

Here are a few of my faves:

9gag.com
Dogshaming.com
Reddit.com/aww
Huffington Post – weird/dumb criminals section
Pinterest

What do you do when you need a moment of laughter? As a reader, what scenes/books affected you so deeply you had to search for something lighthearted to pull you out of the funk?

ALL GOOD DEEDS is the January Book of the Month for Psychological Thrillers at Goodreads! This is a major honor, and the discussion is great. Stop by and join in!

The class had a mix of new and experienced authors, published and unpublished.

DISCLAIMER #1: when I say published, I’m including indie published.

As I listened to the great presentations, I kept hearing the phrases “attracting an agent,” or “staying out of the slush pile.” Many of the talks referenced all the tiny little things that can make an agent or editor toss a manuscript aside. I could see the unpublished authors squirming and turning green.

As the day went on, I had one unrelenting thought: I’m so glad to be indie!

DISCLAIMER #2: Your publishing path is yours alone. Neither is an easy choice or a get rich quick opportunity, and both mean HARD WORK and rejection.

Let me clarify, being grateful to be Indie has nothing to do with confidence in my writing. In the last couple of months I have learned to believe in myself more than ever. I’m very proud of all my books, and I’m exceptionally happy with the latest thriller, ALL GOOD DEEDS, and the Lucy Kendall character.

I’m grateful I chose Indie because I don’t have to worry about an agent rejecting me because of personal preference, or because the marketing department doesn’t know if they could sell my book, or because I used two spaces at the end of a sentence instead of one (true story.) I get to bypass all that and focus on the story and the writing.

And while there are writing rules we all must follow (Grammar, anyone?! And the three-act structure), I don’t have to worry about pleasing the status quo or taking risks. I don’t know if an agent or editor or marketing department would have believed in Lucy Kendall. But that doesn’t matter, because I do.

DISCLAIMER #3: Indie Publishing isn’t for the faint of heart. I believe in investing in your business, and that means paying for good, EXPERIENCED editors and cover artists.

Now, a word on editing. It’s everything. I pay for developmental, copyediting, and proofing. And I will continue to do so because I learn so much about writing every time my editor tears apart my manuscript. To me, Indie publishing means subcontracting the editing, formatting, and cover art. That means I’m a business, and to be successful, you have to invest in the highest quality available.

But the best part of this journey is that I don’t have to worry about pleasing anyone but myself and the readers. I get to put them first, and that’s extremely liberating!

Writing isn’t about the royalty (although that’s a beautiful bonus), but about being able to stay true to the story in my head and my heart. I’m blessed to have editors who understand my vision but won’t hesitate to tell me when I’m derailing.

Just to be clear, this post isn’t about traditional vs. Indie. I hate that argument. Only you can decide what’s best for your career, and what will make you happy in the long run. The beauty is that we have so many more choices than we did five years ago. Despite all the extra headaches that come with being Indie published, I’m so grateful to have made that choice.

What about you? Do you love your chosen publishing path? Or are you still trying to decide which is right for you?

Now, onto the writing part. This movie is an excellent example of conflict and piling more and more on the character. One problem resolved, quick breather for the character, then another disaster. It’s a roller coaster that is perfectly executed.

Whether you’re interested in screenwriting or not, I recommend this movie for every writer, especially suspense and thriller writers. It is the best example I’ve seen of ratcheting up the stakes while making the viewer care deeply for the main character in a long time. The movie’s setup is quick, giving us just enough interaction with Bullock and Clooney to care, and then all hell breaks loose and last until the last seconds of the movie.

Beyond that, the character growth is very strong. Through fear, desperation, panic, and finally, faith, Bullock keeps fighting. We see her terror while witnessing her strength, and that is a damned hard thing to pull off.

Genre tastes aside, this movie is a must see to better your writing craft.

Have you seen Gravity? Do you plan to? What movies have helped shape your writing?

Skeleton’s Key (Delta Crossroads #2) broke into the top 100 in Mystery Series in less than a week of release! Thank you so much to those of you who attended the launch party on Facebook and who are reading/reviewing the book. I’m thrilled with the positive response!

A very quick teaser for Skeleton’s Key:

As writers, especially when we are newly published, it’s very easy to take these personally. And tempting to want to stick out our chests and defend our honor.

Don’t. It’s bad business. No matter how you approach the reviewer, you will come out in the negative end. They’re entitled to their opinion, no matter how far off you feel it is.

And even though you may not leave a bad review if you don’t like a book, others feel the need to. As authors, we have to respect that, especially when we are asking for reviews.

I believe if we are going to become better writers and better entertainers, we need to at least keep our minds open and try to learn from the bad reviews.

TIN GOD has 80 reviews on Amazon. 54 five-star, and I’m proud to say those were from Goodreads ladies who wanted to read the book and loved it, or reviewers who later purchased the book and enjoyed it. The book has 21 four-stars, 3 three-stars, and 2 two-stars.

Those are the ones I’m going to share with you.

First is a lady who was excited to read the book, but it fell short for her.

I was really interested in reading this book. The concept was really intriguing, and provided an opportunity for a great story. The idea of a baby selling ring and a predator who takes advantage of young girls to impregnate them for the purpose of selling their babies, was great, but in the end, I was very disappointed with this book. The characters were all unlikeable, and many of their actions just did not ring true. The book also needed a good editor, as it was about 100 pages too long, repeating thoughts and dialogue that was unnecessary for the story. Also, the idea that a “good mother” stays with a physically and emotionally abusive husband to hold a family together, is just wrong!!

So, yes, at first this hurt. But I stepped back and tried to put myself in the reader’s shoes to see if there was anything I could take away to make me a better writer. Part of the issue is simply a matter of preference: she ended up not liking the subject matter or how it was handled. Those things are going to happen no matter what. But she also mentions character development and editing. Hmm. Okay. I bristled at first considering the investment in editing I made, but when I calmed down, I remembered this was only my second book and no matter how solid I think it is, it could be better.

And you know what? Repeating thoughts and dialogue is something I used to be really bad at. I’m getting better, but when I read that line, I knew deep down she had a point. I was in the middle of getting SKELTON’S KEY ready for the content edit, and I went back and made sure to look for that. And I told both my editors to do the same. I also addressed some character development issues.

The second two-star review is even more critical, and I’ll be honest: I stopped writing for at least a day after I read it. I may have shed a tear. But then I went back and read it again. It’s a much longer review, so I’m only going to show the parts that really resonated with me, and you’ll see my comments in bold.

I don’t understand why some authors feel the need to constantly repeat themselves. Is the purpose to meet some arbitrary word count? Or do they think we don’t get it the first time? I wasn’t very far into the story before I found myself screaming: “Enough about the humidity. I get that it is constant. I get that it is oppressive. Can we just get on with the story?” I lost count of the number of times the purported heroine heard rushing in her ears or was biting her lips to the point of drawing blood. It is quite amazing to me she actually had lips left to kiss with what with all the self-inflicted injury she caused them.

Oh, I was mad. But then I realized WHY I was mad. Because I knew she was right. And see the pattern? Same thing the other reviewer said.

Which brings us to Jaymee Ballard, the purported heroine previously mentioned. I felt no empathy for her whatsoever as she was totally self-absorbed. She knew the murders were connected to her yet she still continued to selfishly harbor her secrets. Secrets that were hardly necessary as this is, after all, the twenty first century. Secrets that may have helped bring a murderer to justice. I found it all so implausible.

She’s got a point, and the implausibility thing is something I worried about as I wrote. But this is a more subjective comment, because a lot of readers loved Jaymee. So I had to let this one go, but I did make notes on developing more well-rounded characters.

I do not recommend this book. I know I am going against the grain…all five and four star reviews except for my two stars. I guess I prefer more realism even if it is fiction. I need to be able to feel something for at least some of the character even if that something is dislike. I felt nothing for anyone in Tin God. I need a sense of time and place. The author failed to place me at the scene. I could not even feel the humidity despite the constant references to it. I think I need another Barbara Samuel story right now.

Some of this is subjective, too. She felt like there was a lack of romance, she didn’t feel the chemistry. Okay. But it’s the character development thing that bothers me here. Both two-stars mentioned this, as well as a three-star. 

After I licked my wounds, I realized something about this review: if this reader took the time to write so much (it’s much longer than I shared) then surely I can at least consider her points.

Some authors will say that reading reviews will spin you in circles, but I believe that’s only if you allow them to. Because unless a person just doesn’t like the story on principle, nine times out of ten, the issues he or she have are valid.

So what did I take away?

Keep learning. Dig deeper on character development because that is what keeps readers coming back. Be more diligent about not repeating feelings, reactions and description. Most of all, focus on the story more than the prose. And I needed to make sure I communicated to my editors and proofers additional things to look for in my books.

My point is this: learn to take what you can from the bad ones. There will always be ones that are rooted in a difference of opinion, but there are plenty of reviews out there that can expose some fixable issues in your writing. Find ways to turn the negative into positives.

How do you handle bad reviews?

When I started writing INTO THE DARK, I was a true pantster. I had no idea where the story was going, and it was only when I really started studying story structure that I started seeing the value of plotting. But I still clung to the belief that I couldn’t be inspired if I didn’t write by the seat of my (too big) pants.

And then TIN GOD came along, and I had 987 ideas and my critique partner Catie Rhodes introduced me to Scrivener. If you haven’t tried it, definitely check the program out. For the organizationally challenged like me, it is a Godsend.

TIN GOD is the first book I tried to plot. I really did have my own version of an outline…which changed about 10 times as I wrote. And that was all right. I was still learning structure and how to use my ideas efficiently. The second Delta Crossroads Book, SKELETON’S KEY, just got delivered to the developmental editor, and while I managed to mostly stick to the loose outline, it was also a story that sort of raged out of me in about three months total.

Which brings me to my current WIP. It’s going to be different than anything I’ve attempted. It’s a thriller and a time slip novel, meaning there will be scenes set in the past, and the subject matter(s) are delicate. The plot is the most intricate I’ve ever attempted.

I had to plan this book out, because by now, my control freak tendencies have crept into my writing and will not be ignored. I’ve read a lot of plotting books, including Scene and Structure, but I still struggled with how to full visualize my story before I started writing. Again, at the prodding (almost always gentle) of my critique partner Catie Rhodes, I studied Patti Larsen’s method. If you don’t know Patti, she is a prolific writer (30 books in something like two years, and they are good!) and great teacher. Her method is easy to understand and was a huge lightbulb moment for me.

But I also had to make it my own. I started out with my notebook and wrote down idea after idea, slowly fleshing out each character. Then came the plot ideas. What if this, and what if that? A lot of them were chucked out. A few were kept. Over and over, narrowing it down. I started this journey at the end of April and today, I have a 43 scene detailed synopsis. When I say detailed synopsis, I mean I know what the arc is of each individual scene, what the high points are, which ones have the key symbolism that plays into the plot, etc. Catie’s read the synopsis, we made some changes, and now I am fine tuning.

The benefit of having this synopsis is that we can see plot issues before we even start writing! Now, that doesn’t mean that more won’t pop up–that’s inevitable. But hopefully, we can catch the worst offenders now.

A year ago, I would have said this would never work for me, that the scenes would be flat and uninspired with so much early planning. Maybe that was true then, but it isn’t now. I’ve also been doing a lot of craft studying, and if you haven’t read Donald’s Maass’s Writing 21st Century Fiction, do it now. There is much to be learned from that book, for writers of any stage. As I’ve developed as a writer, my process has changed, and it changes for each book. I can’t tell you exactly how I got to this point for the WIP, and I probably won’t be able to replicate it for the third Delta Crossroads book. And that’s okay, because writing is ever evolving. Point is, we as authors need to be willing to learn and change. Just like a child, every book we write has different needs.

The point of this post? To tell you that I am SO FREAKING EXCITED to have this synopsis. Going this route has been perfect for me, and it will enable me to write slower, focus more on the nuances and micro-tension of each scene. I’ve gone from feeling as though I were flailing around like a decapitated chicken to being just a bit cocky about my plans for this book.

So there’s my thrilling story. Thrilling to me, anyway. I feel as though I’ve turned a corner with my writing, and I’m excited to see what’s down the road. And if you’re a panster, I’m not saying give that up and start plotting ahead. Just be flexible. Let the book tell you how it needs to be written.

Please make sure to leave her some love in the comments and check out her books.

Thanks so much for having me on, Stacy!

First off, a bit of an introduction. I’m a Maine-based, live-aboard sailor and author of the award-winning Maine Island Mysteries—a series that grew out of my love of the Maine coast and its rugged, self-sufficient out-island communities. During the summer months, my husband and I spend as much time as we can cruising those islands, especially those in the Penobscot and Casco Bays, which is where the series was born—a series I’d never planned on writing.

A number of years ago, on a stormy sail back from Mt. Desert Island (mid-coast vacation playground of the early 20^th century Rockefellers and, more recently, domestic diva Martha Stewart), we took refuge in the small harbor at Matinicus Island—rugged home to centuries of warring, trigger-happy lobstering clans. This is not only the most remote inhabited island on the eastern seaboard, it’s surrounded by some of the most crustacean-rich waters in the world.  The lobstermen who make their living fishing here are understandably territorial, and protect their fishing rights in whatever manner they deem appropriate.  Most of these guys actually carry rifles in their wheelhouses. There are no police on Matinicus (no officialdom of any kind, in fact), no banks, stores, restaurants, doctors or hospitals—though there are a couple of EMTs for those inevitable brawls.

Perfect place for a mystery, right?

I should mention here that I not only live on my boat, I do most of my writing there, so I immediately began a novel called simply Matinicus (May, 2012), featuring the hard-drinking, bachelor botanist Gil Hodges—a funny, self-deprecating guy with an unfortunate propensity for psychotic, often homicidal women.

At the start of the book, Gil arrives on the island ostensibly to catalog a purported 22 species of wild orchid, when in reality he’s simply running from yet another of these disastrous sexual conquests, figuring the place so remote, so rugged, so utterly unwelcoming to strangers it would deter even this latest bizzarro chick.  Shortly after he arrives, however, islanders begin to die rather gruesome deaths and he’s forced to try and solve the murders to prove his own innocence. Along the way he meets a gorgeous, wealthy widow who trips all his bad triggers, discovers an old diary full of island secrets, and finds himself inexplicably hounded by the ghost of a child some two hundred years dead. The book was a hoot to write and I was sorry to see it end.

When I finished Matinicus, I figured I was also finished with Gil. So when I began another book titled Reese’s Leap (March, 2013), set on another Maine island, I envisioned it as another one-off murder mystery—this one about a group of complicated, high-powered women partying during an all-female retreat when things go desperately wrong. Nary a man in sight. But I found I missed Gil. The new story felt flat without his energy. And given his womanizing ways, this book was actually the perfect vehicle for him. In this book, he ends up stranded on the island with the women when fog rolls in. When a stranger appears out of nowhere, insinuating himself into the fold and bent on a twisted kind of revenge, it falls to Gil to keep the women safe, despite a dawning awareness that not everyone will make it off the island alive.

Personal experience again played a part in developing the plotline for Reese’s Leap. I caught the first glimmers of the story while on my own annual, all-female retreat on a remote island off the coast of Maine. Take five women itching to raise some hell, put them in a rambling, hundred-year-old lodge with no electricity, phone service or other connection to the outside world, throw in a three-day fog, and the imagination can’t help but run a little wild.

With the publication Reese’s Leap, the Maine Island Mystery Series was born—albeit unintentionally. I’m now hard at work on book three, Ragged Island, and envision at least one more in the series.

I’ve learned a lot about series writing during my initial foray into the process. Knowing what to reveal and not reveal about what happened in the first book proved to be quite the tiptoe. On the one hand, I wanted to drop enough hints to entice the reader who hadn’t already read Matinicus to go back and do so; on the other hand, I had to be careful not to unintentionally give some important plot element away in the process. This is harder than it sounds. In my case, it meant being careful not to reveal the age or sex of the murderer in Matinicus—for reasons that will become obvious if you read the book. I also had to work hard not to inadvertently contradict myself from one book to another in regard to the specifics of my series’ protagonist—a complicated and deeply conflicted guy with a sordid past in regard to women. You’d be amazed how many times I’ve seen this happen in other books. My solution was to draw up character personality sketches—ones I keep updated and take with me for any characters that continue from book to book.

Three characters from Reese’s Leap are actually coming along for book three, joining a few of the battered who survived Matinicus. Now I get to sit back, waiting to see just who else will show up…

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An excerpt from Reese’s Leap:

It’s just after nine when I toss back another triplet of aspirin and—cap tugged low against the sun—slip on my shades, heft my pack, and make my way toward the dock behind the others.  The sight of  David and Lily—who are loathe to be parted now it’s down to it—is bittersweet indeed, tripping my thoughts toward Nora, or maybe Rachel. Who the hell knows anymore.

The chicks are going on about some picnic they’re planning for later in the day as my thoughts turn toward work and the deluge of Fall term minutia no doubt piling up in my campus mailbox. Something to throw myself into, thank God. Put the last few days behind me, chalk up all the longing and regret to the kind of  hoodoo-voodoo shit my numerous unresolved issues unleash on me from time to time. Soon as I hit the mainland, though, I plan to visit Burt and that rifle of his, Adria’s thoughts on the matter be damned—my parting salvo in the saga of Pete and Earl. I figure the guy can’t be that hard to find.

“Where the hell are Nora and Brit?” Margot asks as we make the dock. “We said nine, right?”

“Nora’s sleeping in,” Adria says, climbing into the skiff as I casually scan the tree line for any sign of Pete’s sneering countenance. “Brit never came home last night, far as I know.”

Seating herself before the motor, she braces her feet on the floor of the boat and gives the starter cord an initial tug. Nothing. Gives it a couple more pulls, checks the gas, tries again. Chokes it. Keeps all this up ’til she’s pretty well winded.

“How about I give it a go?” I offer.

“Doesn’t like to start if it’s been sitting a few days,” she says, making room for me on the seat.

I put some elbow grease into a couple stiff pulls. Nothing.

“Try choking it again,” Adria instructs, which I do, then give it another try. And again. Nada. Not so much as a spark. I pull off the engine cover.

My experience with outboards is admittedly paltry, limited as it is to the one on the Somerset Island skiff—a temperamental beast that burned through fuel faster than I go through scotch. It was a bitch to start, and almost impossible to bring to life if it rained. The first time I took it out alone—an ice run to Rock Island when I was twelve—I spent half an hour trying to restart it when it stalled in the middle of the bay. Sat there ’til a fisherman cruised by offering assistance. Turned over on the first pull.

I bring this up because, useless as I’ve proven myself to be when it comes to such

things, even I can tell when a spark plug’s missing. Leaves a hole.

“Spark plug’s gone,” I tell her. “See?”

“Gone?” she asks, peering into the motor. “How can it be gone?” She flicks a suspicious glance my way.

“Me? You can’t be serious.”

“There’s a kit with extras and a socket wrench,” she says, clearly unconvinced. “Blue plastic box with a flip lid stuck to the underside of the seat.”

Reaching down, I feel around ’til I locate the metal bracket and release clip where said plastic box would normally snap in—only it, too, is gone.

“Not anymore,” I say.

A brief inspection of the boat reveals that the oars are also missing, as is the handheld VHF radio. Adria sits back, momentarily flummoxed, stiffening as she glances to the opposite side of the float. “The kayaks,” she whispers, nodding toward the spot where the three of them were last tethered together. No sign of them now.

A trickle of unease as I glance again toward the treeline where that clever fucker is no doubt watching. Crazy and clever—not good.

“There a problem?” Duggan asks, unwrapping himself from Lily. He grows still, his gaze joining mine as he catches my mood. Together we peer toward the woods, where everything appears deceptively serene.

We should get to the house, I’m thinking. Locate the others.

Like now.

My eyes find Adria’s. “Time to dig out that cell phone, boss.”

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