Setting: Portland, Maine

 Photo: © iStockphoto.com/rossandgaffney

Everything about Portland, Maine appeals to me, from its world-famous lighthouse to its charming boutiques to its alluring harbor front. I couldn’t think of a better way to capture the distinctive flavors of this coastal New England town than to use it as the setting for my second book in the Megan Scott/Michael Elliott Mystery series.

So I created Fatal Whispers, a mystery that focuses on the unexplained deaths of a millionaire’s beautiful young wife, a homeless woman, and a parish priest. Megan and Michael face imminent danger as they try to find the cause of these consecutive deaths in a town where such an occurrence is rare—even in real life. While the story will keep the mystery buffs among you searching for clues, the blend of historic and modern settings in it will add interest to your pursuit.

You’ll journey with my sleuths through the cobblestoned streets in the Old Port and visit trendy shops with arched façades and colorful awnings. You’ll awaken your senses through Megan as she breathes in the briny scent of Casco Bay and enjoys scrumptious seafood dishes in restaurants along the waterfront. A feast for the eyes, Bianca’s Gardens will help you visualize the vibrant flora displayed in this upscale flower shop at the center of a police investigation.

You’ll sit through meetings with Megan and Michael as they interview witnesses connected to high-society charities, forensic pathology, social services, and churches. You’ll be at their side as they follow leads into shadowy corners and beyond locked doorways. And you’ll hold your breath as they confront the enemy.

With a cast of colorful characters and intriguing settings, Fatal Whispers is a triple whodunit just waiting for you to solve.

To get your copy of Fatal Whispers, you'll find the link here.

Hosted at a Ladies’ Book Club Meeting

It was my first author invitation to a ladies’ book club meeting. It was their first book club meeting with a “real-life” author. I eagerly accepted the offer and looked forward to spending an afternoon with seven of my fans and chatting about my mystery novel, False Impressions.

After we’d gathered in Celia’s comfy living room, I soon discovered that the ladies were welcoming, easygoing, and witty. Laden with paperbacks they planned to exchange with one another later, this energetic group of seniors admitted that they devoured books like candy and that their passion for reading often stretched into the wee hours of the morning. They were open about the sorts of books they liked and those they didn’t. I could only assume that my book fell into the first category; otherwise I’d have a lot of explaining to do.

As the conversation turned to False Impressions, it was clear the ladies had done their homework and were more than prepared with an arsenal of questions for me. This was not a group to be reckoned with if I came up shorthanded in the answers department. Considering the options, I was determined not to let them down and hoped that my memory would stand up to the test.

To my delight, their questions and comments were insightful, thought provoking, and at times surprising. Here are a few examples:

How did you choose the names and descriptions for your characters?

Will Megan and Michael tie the knot in the next book?

How long did it take you to write False Impressions?

Why was that detective so relentless?

I was so sure the killer was _____!

My get-together with the ladies was by no means a one-sided event. I learned about their work backgrounds, their families, their involvement in church groups, and other activities they pursued. Throughout the afternoon, the camaraderie they exhibited was exhilarating, and my cheeks hurt from laughing so hard at their jokes. I kept thinking how their rapid retorts and sidesplitting bantering could have provided excellent material for the cast of The Golden Girls once upon a time.

The meeting wound down, and I said goodbye to newfound friends who shared the same love of the written word as I did. But it wasn’t a final goodbye. The ladies promised they’d invite me to another book club meeting after my second novel, Fatal Whispers, is published this year.

You can bet I’ll be there!

Meet the Characters of False Impressions

If you haven’t yet met the characters in my first mystery novel, False Impressions, I’d like to introduce you to the personalities who worked their way into my imagination and decided to stay for a while. The following excerpts from the book are narrated through the first-person POV of Megan Scott, one of the two main characters featured in this series.

Michael Elliott (main character #2)
The last time I’d seen him, he was reading Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood while our English Lit professor lectured the class on Renaissance culture. I had a secret “thing” for this boy with the tousled brown hair and blue eyes, but he didn’t even know I existed.

He looked as if he’d just stepped out of bed and all the more charismatic than I remembered. His tanned, chiseled features suggested a preference for rigorous outdoor pursuits, such as mountain climbing or sail boating, rather than writing. Tousled brown hair still framed those blue eyes.

Tom Scott (Megan’s husband)
I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You know that trying to get pregnant is the most important part, don’t you?” I kissed him on the lips.

He responded with a passion that made me want him even more and reminded me how much I loved him.

We lingered in bed later, my head resting against his back. Even in the dim light, I could see the small tattoo of two intertwining roses on his lower back—the same one we’d both had engraved while honeymooning in Nassau.

Pam Strober (Megan’s boss and friend)
The metal tips of Pam’s three-inch heels clicked against the back-and-white checkered linoleum as she moved to her desk, the trail of Prada perfume lingering in the air behind her.

Pam had dated more men in the last year than other thirty-three-year-old women had in a lifetime. “Use them, then lose them” was her mantra.

I sat down, glanced at her collection of cat figurines displayed in a corner bookcase. Trips-without-sex gifts from the older men she’d dated. I was relieved to see she hadn’t added any other pieces since January.

Detective Lieutenant Moreau
I caught the scent of cigarette smoke on Moreau’s clothes as he breezed past me into the living room. A tweed jacket, a lilac shirt, and a tie that looked as if it had been used to wipe off paintbrushes gave the impression he’d selected his clothes in the dark. While strands of mousey-brown hair made a futile attempt to cover the top of his head, a thick mustache filled the narrow space between thin lips and a pointy nose. Sporting a black attaché case, he could have passed for a fifty-year-old salesman peddling insurance door-to-door.

Emily Saunders (Megan’s co-worker)
Emily strutted down the corridor toward us on black high heels identical to a pair Pam had bought at Browns Shoes last month. She couldn’t possibly afford designer strap sandals on her salary, so I assumed she’d dug them out of Pam’s office closet. Bits of mascara smudged the rims of her eyes and streaks of pale skin showed through where tears had washed away the makeup. That girl was going to be at a loss without her mentor around to crack the whip whenever she spoke out of line or applied her lipstick wrong.

Peter Ewans (Tom’s co-worker)
Gray hair at the temples, a sagging facial expression, and rimless gasses, Peter looked as if he’d aged ten years since I’d seen him weeks earlier. As we stood by the front door to my apartment, he handed me the car keys but dropped them. We both made a move to retrieve them. I was faster.

Tricia Bradford (wife of publishing company owner)
Bradford’s offices only occupied fifteen hundred square feet, so conversations flowed easily through the air when doors were left open. I couldn’t tell who the other woman was, but her tone of voice grew argumentative.

Footsteps approached. A woman with a stride that said, “Get out of my way!” whizzed past my office. Well-coiffed hair, dark blue suit, lots of makeup, fiftyish. Old money.

I recognized her as Tricia, the wife of company president, Bill Bradford.

Dan Cummings (lawyer)
Dan stood about four inches taller than Michael and had the kind of build that might have secured him a football scholarship in earlier days. Now salt-and-pepper hair and a fleshy waistline added years to his age. His leather shoes made a statement about the style of attire that people in his profession could afford, while Michael’s jeans and running shoes embodied the dress code for blasé writers.

Jane Barlow (paralegal)
Her hair hung straight down to her shoulders. A band pulled it away from her face to reveal high cheekbones and accent blue-gray eyes. She wore a navy jacket, a matching skirt that stopped right above the knee, a white shirt, and a pearl necklace. The look was austere, but I supposed it was all about depicting reliability and a sense of business ethics. The only thing that betrayed her woodenness was the scent of her perfume. A blend of lavender and vanilla, it alluded to a lighter, more carefree side of her personality and was more in line with her age group. Rather, our age group.

This list isn’t complete, and other characters play minor though colorful and vital roles in False Impressions. There’s Mrs. Speck, the snooping widow; Willie, the elusive informant; and Anita, the hotel maid who… Well, you’ll have to read the book to find out!

Here's the link. Happy reading!