Category Archives: Patricia Stoltey

They Are Three Together*

TrilogiesAn interesting guest post on mystery novelist Patricia Stoltey’s site has got me thinking about trilogies. Before I go on, let me encourage you to visit Patricia’s blog. Interesting posts about writing, and updates on the Colorado writing scene, await you. And this particular post includes some useful input on writing a trilogy, for those who may be contemplating that.

Trilogies aren’t a new phenomenon, of course. When it comes to crime fiction, they’ve been around for quite a while. And there are plenty of examples. Space won’t permit me to discuss all of them, but the few I mention here should give an idea of what’s out there.

William McIlvanney’s Laidlaw trilogy features Glasgow police detective Jack Laidlaw. Consisting of Laidlaw, The Papers of Tony Veitch, and Strange Loyalties, this trilogy is argued to be the first example of ‘Tartan noir.’ The novels are tied together by Laidlaw’s presence and some other elements. However, each of the novels has a different case and focus. So (and this is important in a trilogy) the books can stand on their own in terms of the individual stories.

McIllvanney’s Laidlaw series isn’t the only trilogy set in Glasgow.  There’s also Malcolm Mackay’s Glasgow Underworld trilogy. The Necessary Death of Lewis Winter, How a Gunman Says Goodbye, and The Sudden Arrival of Violence offer the reader a look at Glasgow’s criminal world and those who inhabit it. Many of the main characters are professional killers, and the books show how these people go about their jobs. Again, the trilogy is held together by some of the characters’ personal stories, and by its overarching theme. But each novel tells a different story.

Stefan Tegenfalk’s trilogy features Stockholm County CID police detectives Walter Gröhn and Jonna de Brugge. Anger Mode, Project Nirvana, and The Weakest Link are thrillers that include elements of the police procedural. There are international plots, there’s high-level corruption, and so on. There are also plot threads involving Gröhn and de Brugge’s work lives. Each novel has an individual plot. At the same time, though, there are arcs that cross all three novels. And there are characters besides Gröhn and de Brugge who recur.

There’s also Carlo Lucarelli’s historical (WWII and post-WWII) trilogy featuring Commissario de Luca. In these novels (Carte Blanche, The Damned Season, and Villa Della Oche), we see how de Luca has to negotiate the landmine that is the political landscape of Italy during this time. As Mussolini’s regime slips from power and then is defeated, de Luca has to deal first with the fascist regime, and then with the backlash against it. The whole time, he has to find a way to survive the changes in power as well as do his job.

And I don’t think I could discuss crime-fictional trilogies without mentioning Jean-Claude Izzo’s Marseilles trilogy and Len Deighton’s Bernie Sansom trilogy. Both feature main characters who are, if you will, caught in the tide of larger events and movements, and try to do their best in what’s sometimes a very dark world. The trilogies are quite different (‘though both are noir trilogies), but both main characters are essentially decent but cynical people who have to do their best to survive in a climate of world-weariness and sometimes hopelessness. There are lots of other trilogies out there, of course, and they’re not just crime-fictional trilogies, either.

There are good reasons to choose the trilogy format, both for authors and for publishers. For authors, the trilogy allows for character development and story arcs along the lines of what’s possible in a longer series. There’s also flexibility, so that the author can explore different main plots within a trilogy. What’s more, for both author and publisher, a trilogy allows for a commitment without risking too much. And for the publisher, the trilogy can mean more sales, as it may motivate readers who’ve enjoyed the first book to purchase the other books.

And that brings me to the benefits for readers. Many crime fiction fans don’t have the time (or perhaps, the motivation) to read a long series. Unless one’s a real admirer of a given author, it’s hard to make that commitment to a long-running series. But a trilogy – only three books! – is easier in terms of the investment of time and reading energy. And it allows the reader to follow some stories-across-stories. For many readers, it’s an effective balance between enjoying an author’s work and making too much of a commitment.

Trilogies do have their drawbacks, of course. For one thing, they can limit both author and publisher. If the main characters in a trilogy really do become popular, ‘fleshed out,’ and of continuing interest to the author and publisher, what happens? Some publishers will agree to a fourth (or fifth, or…) outing in a series. But it can be awkward. It can be a bit confusing, too. For another thing, a trilogy means that the author has to sustain the plot threads and story arcs over three – but only three – novels. That means, in a sense, planning a series, with individual plots, but threads that tie the novels together. Those threads arguably have to be stronger than those that bind a longer series, too, since it’s a trilogy.

What do you think of the trilogy? Do you enjoy story arcs that last over three novels? Or do you prefer longer series, where the characters really evolve over time? Perhaps you prefer standalones? If you’re a writer, have you planned or written a trilogy? How is it different for you to planning a standalone or longer series?


*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Crosby, Stills, and Nash’s Helplessly Hoping.


Filed under Carlo Lucarelli, Jean-Claude Izzo, Len Deighton, Malcolm Mackay, Patricia Stoltey, Stefan Tegenfalk, William McIlvanney

It’s a Bedside Mystery*

Crime Fictional Crime Fiction FansYou probably already know this, but there are a lot of crime fiction fans out there. What’s interesting, too, is that there are plenty of fictional crime fiction fans, too. That makes sense if you think about it, because the most talented crime writers are also avid readers. And many of them read crime fiction. So it’s only logical that their interest in the genre would find its way into their writing.

In Edumnd Crispin’s The Case of the Golden Fly, for instance, we are introduced to Oxford academic Dr. Gervase Fen. In that novel, journalist Nigel Blake returns to Oxford to do a story on Robert Warner’s new play Metromaina. He’s also there because, quite frankly, he’s an admirer of Helen Haskell, who has a part in the play. While he’s at Oxford, Blake visits his former mentor Fen. So he’s on hand when Yseut Haskell (Helen’s half-sister and a star in her own right) is shot. The case is a difficult one, since she was alone at the time, and no-one was seen leaving or entering her room. But Fen works out how the murder was done. Here’s what he says as he works out the answer:

‘Lord, Lord what a fool I’ve been! ‘And yes – it fits – absolutely characteristic. Heaven grant Gideon Fell never becomes privy to my lunacy; I should never hear the end of it.’’

That’s, of course, a reference to John Dickson Carr’s sleuth, Dr. Gideon Fell. It’s an interesting example of how crime-fictional detectives work their way into other crime fiction.

In Agatha Christie’s Murder in Mesopotamia, noted American archaeologist Eric Leidner hires a nurse, Amy Leatheran, to help look after his wife, Louise. Louise has been having difficulty with anxiety, and Nurse Leatheran is hoping to help ease her nerves. She soon discovers that her patient has been seeing faces at windows, and hearing hands tapping. It may be just a symptom, so to speak, but Louise is convinced that someone is trying to kill her. What’s more, she knows who: her first husband, Frederick Bosner, who was thought to be dead for many years. Nurse Leatheran isn’t convinced that’s the case, until one afternoon when Louise is murdered in her room. Hercule Poirot is in the area, and is persuaded to investigate the murder. On the afternoon of the killing, Nurse Leatheran is in her own room, resting:

‘I was reading Death in a Nursing Home – really a most exciting story… When I put the book down at last (it was the red-headed parlourmaid, and I’d never suspected her once!) and looked at my watch I was quite surprised to find it was twenty minutes to three!’

Fans of both Christie and Ngaio Marsh will know that this snippet is a veiled reference to Marsh’s The Nursing Home Murder. And no, Christie doesn’t give away the real killer in that novel.

Patricia Stoltey’s Sylvia Thorn is a retired Florida judge. She’s also a crime fiction reader. In The Prairie Grass Murders, her brother, Willie Grisseljon, is visiting their home town in Illinois. While he’s there, he discovers the body of an unknown man on the property the Grisslejon family used to own. When Willie reports the murder, he’s locked up as a vagrant and ordered to have a psychiatric evaluation. He calls his sister, and Sylvia travels to Illinois to arrange for his release. But when they go to the site where he found the body, there’s no sign that the body was ever there. Now, Willie is determined to prove he’s not crazy, that there was a murder. He and Sylvia get to the truth about the case, and Sylvia returns to Florida. But her troubles aren’t over…  At one point, she’s looking forward to taking a break from the events of this mystery:
‘…I could spend a few more hours on the balcony with my book and a glass of wine. If I finished the [Sue] Grafton paperback, I’d start right in on the latest Park Ranger adventures of [Nevada Barr’s] Anna Pigeon. Escapist reading at its best.’

Even a fictional sleuth enjoys spending time with…a fictional sleuth.

Angela Savage’s Jayne Keeney also enjoys crime fiction. In Behind the Night Bazaar, she travels from Bangkok, where she’s based, to Chiang Mai, to visit her friend Didier ‘Didi’ de Montpasse. Both are bibliophiles, but they have different tastes. So some of their time is spent trying to ‘convert’ each other with different sorts of crime fiction. Everything changes, though, when Didi’s partner Nou is killed. When Didi himself is killed (allegedly while he was resisting arrest for Nou’s murder), Keeney decides to clear his name. And in The Half Child, we learn that Keeney’s love of crime fiction leads her to a particular bookshop – and to Rajiv Patel, who is helping his uncle run the shop. Patel becomes her partner in business and in life. See where a love of crime fiction can take you?

And then there’s Rodeo Grace Garnet, whom we meet in C.B. McKenzie’s Bad Country. He’s a former rodeo star who now does occasional PI work. That’s how he meets Katherine Rocha, who wants him to find out the truth about the death of her teenage grandson, Samuel. According to the police reports, he was possibly shot, and knocked off a bridge; and his grandmother wants to know who’s responsible. So Garnet starts asking questions. At one point, he’s planning a bit of a ‘road trip.’ Here’s part of what he packs:
‘…his camera, eavesdropping and recording gear, binoculars, pepper spray, a sap, a Tony Hillerman…’

That choice seems particularly appropriate, since this novel takes place in the same Southwest region of the US that features in many of Hillerman’s novels.

There are plenty of other examples of fictional sleuths who read about fictional sleuths (am I right, fans of James W. Fuerst’s Huge?). It’s not surprising, considering the popularity of the genre, and considering that crime writers often read the work of other crime writers. Which fictional crime fiction fans have stayed with you?



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Tavares’ Whodunit.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Angela Savage, C.B. McKenzie, Edmund Crispin, James W. Fuerst, John Dickson Carr, Ngaio Marsh, Patricia Stoltey

But the Cowboy and the Rancher Knew His Name*

WesternsMany people find a real appeal in what I’ll call Westerns, whether books, film or television. Even if you don’t care for them yourself, you no doubt know that they have a strong following. There are arguably several reasons so many people love Westerns, just as there are a lot of reasons for which people have moved to ‘the wide open spaces.’

One of the allures of Westerns and their settings is the chance to start over in beautiful, open land. We see that, for instance, in Kate Grenville’s The Secret River. It’s 1806, and William Thornhill, his wife Sal and their children have just arrived in Sydney Cove, Sydney, to start their lives over. Thornhill is a former London bargeman who was sentenced to transportation to Australia for stealing wood. He and his family have experienced real poverty in London, so even though transportation is nerve-wracking, it’s also a chance to build new lives. Before very long, Thornhill finds work delivering goods up and down the local waterways; his wife opens a makeshift pub. One day, Thornhill finds a piece of irresistibly beautiful land, and sets about to claim it. And therein lies the problem. People have been living in what is to become New South Wales for many thousands of years, and it’s not long before there are serious, even bloody and brutal, conflicts between the two groups. Grenville doesn’t make light of the crimes committed in the name of new land and new opportunities. At the same time, we see just how tempting that land can be.

Even today, people are drawn to the prospects of open land, the chance to put the past behind, and the opportunity to start all over. That’s arguably part of what makes Craig Johnson’s Walt Longmire series popular. It’s also, of course, highly regarded as a well-written set of novels. But as we learn about the characters, we see a pattern of people who’ve chosen to live in Absaroka County, Wyoming because it’s beautiful, because it gives them a chance to build their own kinds of lives, and because the open land appeals to them. For instance, Longmire’s deputy Victoria ‘Vic’ Moretti is originally from Philadelphia, where she served as a police officer. She’s had her share of ups and downs in life, but she’s found a certain kind of contentment if you will in Absaroka County. Philadelphia may at times offer more conveniences, but Moretti has chosen to start over in the west. I know, I know, fans of C.J. Box’s Joe Pickett series and of Margaret Coel’s Wind River series…

‘Going West’ offers other kinds of opportunities too. As you’ll no doubt know, many people have taken the risks involved in starting over because of the discovery of gold and other precious metals. Vicki Delany’s historical Klondike series, set during the Klondike Gold Rush, has this theme as a backdrop. These novels feature Savoy Dance Hall owner Fiona MacGillivray, who’s originally from Scotland. She’s got a past that she’d just as well leave behind, and a teenage son Angus. Together, they’ve started over in Dawson, Yukon, just as the area is feeling the full effects of the gold rush. She herself isn’t in search of gold, but she knows that there are a lot of other ways to profit from the surge of newcomers. Taverns, restaurants, food and supply purveyors, dance halls, and of course assayers are all benefiting from the search for riches.

Patricia Stoltey’s Sylvia Thorn isn’t really a westerner. She’s a retired judge who lives in Florida. But in The Desert Hedge Murders, she certainly gets a taste of the Old West. She travels with her mother’s traveling club, the Florida Flippers, on a sightseeing tour to Laughlin, Nevada. The group gets caught up in a case of murder when the body of a dead man is found in the bathroom of one of hotel rooms the club is using. Then, one of the members disappears and is later found dead in an old mine now used as a tourist attraction. As Thorn helps her mother and the rest of the group, she also experiences ghost towns, information about mining and prospecting, and legends. And burros.

For some people, the appeal of Westerns also comes from the ‘good guys v bad guys’ tension. Cattle rustlers, sheriffs, posses, outlaws and so on can tap the desire a lot of us have to see the ‘good guys’ win and the ‘bad guys’ get their due. Of course, it certainly wasn’t that simple; a quick glance at history makes that clear. But for a lot of readers and viewers, there’s a real appeal to following the adventures of ‘larger than life’ characters.

And it’s that sense of adventure that also draws many people to the Western. A lot of series and novels feature the sort of cliffhangers that you might see in old-style Western serials; one of them is Stark Holborn’s Nunslinger series. The protagonist in these stories is Sister Thomas Josephine, a Roman Catholic Vistitandine nun from St. Louis, Missouri. As the series begins, she is making her way to start a new life in Sacramento. Everything changes when the wagon train she’s on is attacked in Wyoming. Left stranded there, Sr. Josephine ends up being falsely accused of murder. She goes on the run and is drawn into all sorts of dangerous situations. Sr. Josephine is definitely not your ‘garden variety’ nun…  I admit I’ve not (yet) read these stories. But I’ve already gotten a solid sense of them from the terrific Col, who blogs at Col’s Criminal Library. You’ll want to check out his great blog and see for yourself why it’s one of my must-visits.

There are also plenty of readers/viewers who are interested in Westerns because they want to know more about the people who have always lived in those areas. Novels that depict the lives of Indigenous people in the West can give readers a window on a fascinating perspective on life. And they fulfil the important role of sharing information that doesn’t always make it to the textbooks. Fans of Tony Hillerman’s Joe Leaphorn/Jim Chee series, for instance, will know that those novels depict life in the modern US West/Southwest, often from the point of view of members of the Navajo Nation. Those stories give an important perspective on aspects of Western life such as mining, oil prospecting, and land and water rights. They also share the culture and lifestyle of the people who’ve lived in that area for a very long time.

We also see that perspective in Arthur Upfield’s Napoleon ‘Bony’ Bonaparte novels. Those stories give readers a look at mining, ranching and prospecting in Australia. Very often they feature the point of view of Bony, who is half White/half Aboriginal. So we see several ways of looking at the same places and events. Adrian Hyland’s books feature Emily Tempest, who’s an Aboriginal Community Police Officer (ACPO) in Australia’s Northern Territory. Those novels give readers a look at modern life in the ‘great wide open’ parts of Australia.

Whether it’s the myths of the Western or the actual history of settlement, there’s something about the Western in all its forms that can draw people in. Does it have that effect on you? If so, what appeals to you about the Western? If not, what puts you off?



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy Joel’s The Ballad of Billy the Kid, a song he refers to as ‘completely historically inaccurate.’ Still, for my money, it captures all of the adventure, danger and myth of the Western.


Filed under Adrian Hyland, Arthur Upfield, C.J. Box, Craig Johnson, Kate Grenville, Margaret Coel, Patricia Stoltey, Stark Holborn, Tony Hillerman, Vicki Delany

It’s The Colorado Rocky Mountain High*

DenverIt’s called the Mile High City, among other things, because of its location above sea level. It’s full of history, beautiful scenery, sport and some excellent food and locally brewed beer. Oh, and there are great people too. Yes, I’m talking about Denver. Originally, Denver was a mining town during the Pike’s Peak gold rush of the mid-1850s (hence the name of Denver’s basketball team, the Nuggets). But it’s much more than that. Colorado is also the home of several Native American Nations, including the Arapaho and the Ute. And there’s a heavy influence from the state’s ranching history too. All of this makes Denver a really interesting Western US city located in one of the country’s most breathtaking places, the US Rocky Mountains.

Denver can also be dangerous. What? You don’t believe me? Well it is. It’s the setting for some fine crime fiction. I only have space for a few examples here, but they ought to serve to give you a sense of what I mean.

Michael Connelly’s The Poet features reporter Jack McEvoy of the Rocky Mountain News. As a crime reporter, he’s seen his share of death in all of its ugly forms. But then he learns that his twin brother Sean, a cop with the Denver Police Department, has committed suicide. McEvoy didn’t even know his brother was that fragile mentally, but it’s not so surprising considering the last case Sean was working on before his death: the very brutal murder of university student Theresa Lofton. The case generated a lot of publicity and has been very difficult for all of the police involved, especially since they haven’t been able to solve it. But there are little clues, including a message that Sean left behind, that suggest his death was not suicide. So his brother looks into the case more deeply and finds that a dangerous killer has been at work.

Stephen White’s psychological thriller series ‘stars’ Dr. Alan Gregory. Gregory is a clinical psychologist based in Boulder, Colorado, which is about 30 miles/48 km from Denver. His partner, later his wife, is Deputy District Attorney Lauren Crowder. The twenty-book series is mostly based in the Denver/Boulder area, but occasionally Gregory travels in the course of his work. Many of the plots have to do with Gregory’s clients, although some are related to his wife’s work. Some are also connected with his past. For instance, Manner of Death begins with the death of a former colleague Arnie Dresser. When Gregory is asked to help find out whether Dresser was murdered, he discovers that someone seems to be targeting the group of people who were in his own psychiatry preparation program. Now he’ll have to work with another former colleague Dr. Sawyer Sackett to find out who the killer is.

C.J. Box is perhaps best known for his Joe Pickett series, which takes place in Wyoming. But his standalone Three Weeks to Say Goodbye is set in Denver. Jack McGuane and his wife Melissa are the loving parents of beautiful baby Angelina. Everything changes though when it comes out that Angelina’s biological father Garrett Moreland never relinquished his parental rights. Now he wants to exercise them. As you can imagine, the McGuanes refuse to give up their daughter. When Garrett’s powerful father Judge John Moreland hears of this, he and Garrett visit the McGuanes to try to persuade them, and then bribe them, to change their minds. They refuse again and Moreland strikes back. He issues a court order directing them to surrender Angelina to the court within twenty-one days. Now the McGuanes have a terrible choice. They decide to do whatever it takes to keep their daughter. And as the story goes on, we see what a terrible price ‘whatever it takes’ exacts.

Peg Brantley’s Red Tide is the story of Jamie Taylor, a Colorado bank loan professional who also volunteers as a rescue dog trainer. When a convicted killer tells the FBI where he buried his victims, Taylor and her dogs are sent to the scene to try to find the bodies. They’re successful, but they also make another eerie discovery: there are bodies there that this killer could not have buried. Now Taylor gets involved in the search for the person who used the same remote field as a burial ground. As an interesting note, the climactic scenes in this case take place near Denver’s Mile High Stadium during a US football game featuring the Denver Broncos.

Colorado is also the home of a very active and creative crime fiction community including Patricia Stoltey and Beth Groundwater, among many others. I encourage you to check out Patricia Stoltey’s terrific blog for all the latest in Colorado authors’ news (Psst….her novel Dead Wrong will be coming out soon!!). You can also visit the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers website and catch up on Colorado fiction.

So, in case you didn’t already know this, you can see that Denver may be gorgeous, but you may just want to look out….just to be sure…

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High.


Filed under Beth Groundwater, C.J. Box, Michael Connelly, Patricia Stoltey, Peg Brantley, Stephen White

Rainbows in the High Desert Air

DesertLas Vegas is a major tourist attraction with lots to do. Because of that it’s easy to forget that it’s located in the middle of a desert. There are deserts in lots of different places in the world, and they can be beautiful. But deserts can be very harsh and inhospitable places if one’s not prepared. They’re lonely places, too, where it’s a long time between people. Deserts can be effective settings for stories just because of the danger; it can add a layer of suspense to a story. So it’s not surprising that we see deserts in crime fiction.

For example, in Arthur Conan Doyle’s A Study in Scarlet, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are called to the scene of the unusual murder of Enoch Drebber, an American who was staying in London boarding house with his friend Joseph Stangerson. At first, Stangerson is suspected of the murder, but when he himself is killed, it’s clear that someone else is responsible. It turns out that these murders have their roots in the American desert of Utah. Years earlier, John Ferrier had been stranded in the desert with a young girl Lucy whom he had more or less adopted. They were rescued and the events that followed that rescue led directly to the murders of Drebber and Stangerson.

Since several of Agatha Christie’s stories take place in the Middle East, it’s no surprise that the desert plays a role in her work. Just to give one example, in the short story The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb, Sir John Willard discovers and excavates an ancient tomb that’s said to be haunted and cursed. Not long after the tomb is opened, Sir John dies. Then, there are two other deaths. Willard’s widow is not a fanciful, hysterical person, but she is beginning to wonder whether there might indeed be some kind of curse. So she visits Hercule Poirot and asks him to travel to Egypt and investigate. Poirot and Captain Hastings go to the site of the excavation and look into the matter. What they find is that there is a very prosaic reason for the deaths, and that someone has been using the curse to cover up murder.

Many of Arthur Upfield’s Napoleon ‘Bony’ Bonaparte novels are set in the desert of Australia’s Outback. Let me just give one example. In The Bushman Who Came Back, life at the Wootton homestead is turned upside down when Mrs. Bell, who serves as housekeeper, is found shot. What’s more, her daughter Linda has disappeared. Everyone is especially fond of Linda, so a massive search is launched. It’s suspected that a bushman named Yorkie killed Mrs. Bell and took Linda, Bony is sent to investigate and to try to rescue Linda if he can. There are several scenes in this novel that depict just how harsh the desert in that part of the world can be, and in fact, that’s part of the reason for which there’s such a sense of urgency to Bony’s search. In the end, Bony finds out the truth about Mrs. Bell’s murder and as you imagine, it’s not at all what it seems to be at first.

More recently, Adrian Hyland’s Emily Tempest novels depict life in the Outback desert. Tempest is an Aboriginal Community Police Officer (ACPO) who is assigned to Moonlight Downs, an aboriginal encampment that’s,


‘…miles from nowhere. The nearest town, Bluebush, was four hours of rough roads away, Alice Springs another five beyond that.’


Because Tempest was brought up there, she knows the land and is prepared for the harsh climate. But that doesn’t mean she’s safe from desert danger…

Fans of Tony Hillerman will know that his Joe Leaphorn/Jim Chee novels are set in the American Southwest. The intersection of the US states of Arizona, New Mexico, Utah and Colorado is often called Four Corners, and is the home of several Native American Nations, including the Navajo. The desert there is unforgiving, but both Chee and Leaphorn have always lived in the area and have learned how to adapt to the climate. Novels such as The Blessing Way and The Dark Wind give readers vivid portraits of life in the desert.

So does Betty Webb’s series featuring Scottsdale, Arizona PI Lena Jones. Together with her partner Jimmy Sisiwan, Jones owns Desert Investigations.  Jones is familiar with living and working in a desert climate, and she’s well aware of the dangers. But even she comes almost fatally close to those dangers in Desert Noir. I don’t want to say more for fear of spoiling the novel; suffice it to say that the desert is not a safe place to be if you’re at all vulnerable.

And then there’s Patricia Stoltey’s The Desert Hedge Murders. Former Florida judge Sylvia Thorn grew up in Illinois and has lived in Florida for some years. But she gets more than a taste of the desert experience when she accompanies her mother’s travel club the Florida Flippers on a sightseeing tour of Laughlin, Nevada. The group hasn’t been settled in their hotel very long when one of the group members finds the body of an unknown man in her hotel room’s bathtub. Then, another group member disappears and is later found in an abandoned mine. Thorn wants to keep her mother and the rest of the group safe, so she begins to investigate. With help from her brother Willie Grisseljon, Thorn finds out who the murderer is and why the Florida Flippers seem to be the focus of so much mayhem.

As you can see, the desert is not the kind of place you want to be unless you are thoroughly prepared. And sometimes even then, it’s not all that safe. And I haven’t even mentioned the Arctic deserts…


ps.  The ‘photo is of the sunrise over the Nevada desert. It only looks peaceful and safe…




*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Paul Simon’s Hearts and Bones.


Filed under Adrian Hyland, Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Arthur Upfield, Betty Webb, Patricia Stoltey, Tony Hillerman