Month: December 2021

Guest Blogger ~ Melissa Yi

~ patyjag ~ 2 Comments

War and Drink by Melissa Yi

“I could make Hope a custom gin.” —Nathalie Gamache, artisan distiller and board-certified gynecologist

Nathalie’s offer to create a gin for my main character, Dr. Hope Sze, delighted me. I’m an emergency doctor myself, and when we met online through a physician group, I felt that Nathalie understands Hope’s courage and fears as a resident doctor who solves crimes.

In honour of a custom gin, though, I’d have to focus on alcohol in my next medical thriller. And I hardly drink!

However, I was soon fascinated by the history of booze and crime. I began reading Frenchie, the story of a Quebec man who joined Al Capone’s gang in Chicago for 8 years.

I discovered that Montreal, the main site of my Hope Sze series, was a vacation magnet during Prohibition, as Americans flowed north for “giggle water” (liquor), jazz, and “pro skirts” (prostitutes in 1920’s slang). Unfortunately, buildings from the era were destroyed to make way for new construction.

Luckily, la Maison de Bootlegger is still standing in Charlevoix, Quebec. This building was a speakeasy, a place where they illegally sold alcohol, so you had to “speak easy,” or softly, about its location. Now it’s a restaurant with a nightly rock and roll show. Make your dinner reservations early so you can get the tour. I enjoyed tiptoeing into hidden rooms, observing hidden booze shelves, and creeping through a secret passageway in Elvis Presley’s footsteps.

Seriously, Elvis was here. He even left his signature!

Much further east, at the Age of Sail Museum in Nova Scotia, I noted the Family Temperance Pledge in their Bible and realized that of course the Maritime provinces, right on the sea, would sail liquor to the U.S. I read later that the income was a boon to Nova Scotia fishermen, suffering from a regional recession in the 1920’s. But as the Temperance movement pointed out, that money came at a social cost: alcoholics beat their families and spent their money on drink instead of food.

So there was no shortage of writing inspiration for me, both in terms of liquor and of crime. But how could I weave it all together in my novel, White Lightning? Especially when I took a side journey researching 19th century England, how could I draw it all together into a thriller featuring my thoroughly 21st century heroine, Hope Sze?

The solution: more research.

Hope visits the Rumrunner’s Rest, a Prohibition inn inspired by la Maison de Bootlegger, but in Windsor, where 75 percent of alcohol flowed across the Detroit River onto U.S. soil. To maximize the chaos, Hope also has to navigate a con filled with people dressed up like fictional villains from the The Wicked Witch of the West to Children of the Corn.

I literally played with the historical elements: I wrote the 19th Century portion first as a play called “The Climbing Boy” in a playwriting class at George Brown College, which was turned into a Lego stop action movie at the digital Winnipeg Fringe. I folded “The Climbing Boy” into White Lightning thanks to some inspiration from author Simone St. James.

In other words, in White Lightning, I tried to capture the glamour as well as the murder and treachery of Prohibition.

As William Faulkner pointed out, “War and drink are the two things man is never too poor to buy.”

So let’s raise a glass and grab a book as we turn the page on a new year!

White Lightning

Hope Sze Medical Mystery Book 9

Prohibition and Predators. 

Hope Sze escapes for a romantic weekend away at the Rumrunner’s Rest, a Roaring Twenties inn once celebrated both for Prohibition’s best alcohol and the smoothest jazz bands north of the Detroit River.

Then a convention of fictional villains overrun the tavern, her friend glimpses a ghost, and Hope uncovers a grisly surprise in the fireplace that may be related to Al Capone.

Tonight, unless Hope unravels a century’s worth of clues, death will collect several more lives. Including the one she holds most dear.

Buy links: https://windtreepress.com/portfolio/white-lightning/

Direct links: https://books2read.com/whitelightningyi

amazon.com short https://amzn.to/3n5kuIl

Melissa Yi, also known as Dr. Melissa Yuan-Innes, studied emergency medicine at McGill University in Montreal. She was so shocked by the patients crammed into the waiting area, and the examining rooms without running water, that she began to contemplate murder. And so she created Dr. Hope Sze, the resident who could save lives and fight crime.  Her most recent crime novel, White Lightning, is already up for many awards. She appeared on CBC Radio’s Ontario Morning and recently had so many print interviews that an addiction services counsellor said, “I see you in the newspaper more often than I see you in the emergency room.”

Dr. Melissa Yuan-Innes applied to medical school mostly because she wanted to save lives, but also because she’s nosy. Medicine is a fascinating and frustrating window into other people’s lives. She shares her sometimes painful, occasionally hilarious stories in The Medical Post, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and in her essay collections The Most Unfeeling Doctor in the World, FIfty Shades of Grey’s Anatomy, and Broken Bones.

Website: http://www.melissayuaninnes.com/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/dr_sassy

Facebook: 

https://www.facebook.com/MelissaYiYuanInnes/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/melissa-yi

Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/4600856.Melissa_Yuan_Innes

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/c/MelissaYuanInnes

Instagram: https://instagram.com/melissa.yuaninnes

Author central: amazon.com/author/myi

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/melissayi_

TikTok: @myi_books

MY LAST POST FOR 2021

~ marilynm ~ 6 Comments

This past year has flown by. Christmas is over except for the memories. So what are your plans for the New Year?

Unlike some long-ago past New Year’s Eves, we won’t be doing anything special except for having tamales for dinner and toasting with hot cider. Our big celebration is on New Year’s Day. I always make my version of Seafood Gumbo and various members of my family turn up to eat crab legs and shrimp in a tasty broth served over rice. Afterwards we usually play a rollicking game of Estimation.

What about the rest of 2022?

First, I’m surprised I’m still here to see it.  My hope is to finish the book I’ve been working on.

I’m also having a .99 cent sale of a Kindle copy of Invisible Path, a Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery, from January 17 to January 21.

Like many, I’m hoping times will get back to normal—or at least a near-normal. A few days ago I had lunch with two of my writing buddies, and we decided to do it once a month. It was great to be together again. We are also contemplating setting up a book signing event.

Though I am no longer on the Public Safety Writers Association’s board of directors, they’ve asked me to attend their next meeting in February, sort of a transition. Since it’s in Vegas, I’m going since I’ll also be able to visit my sister who lives there. And I’ve already signed up for the PSWA writing conference in July.

I have an in-person event scheduled for April—we’ll see if that actually happens.

Though no one ever really knows what will happen in the future, it’s always fun to plan.

What are your hopes and plans for 2022?

And to all of you, I’m wishing for a happy and most wonderful New Year.

Marilyn

The Sounds of Christmas

~ susanoleksiw ~ 3 Comments

When I noticed that my post was due on Christmas morning, my first reaction was to cringe and wonder, What on earth could I talk about that wouldn’t seem banal on such a morning? Not sure what to do, I do what I always do. I put the worry aside and took the dog for a walk. 

The various churches in our area often play recorded music. There is little live bell ringing in churches today, which is a loss. As a former bell-ringer, I miss the sound of bell music. When I was barely twelve years old, I was part of a group from my school that performed for the mayor of Boston (in a public concert) during the holiday season as well as for my community. When I hear bell ringing now I actually listen as though I understand what I’m hearing—the different bells, the timing, the way a ringer has to pitch and snap the bell forward, etc. 

On my walk I heard the recorded music from a small nondenominational church nearby, and let my mind drift. In the distance a dog barked and I knew another dog walker was out and about. Briefly a car with the bass ramped up sped by, crushing the bells and the dog. I registered all this and more as I waited for the world to fall quiet so I could enjoy the bells again.

This was one of those moments when a writer recognizes the obvious. In my recent work I’d forgotten the sensation of sound—the music that alters how I feel, the pain of shouting voices, the laughter that starts me smiling and makes me curious, the chorus of dogs barking in response to each other, and the snatch of conversation from two people walking past. The world is one long musical composition of which we hear only bits and pieces. But what if we listen?

The morning of a holy day is a good time to begin to listen well and carefully, to set aside the urge to add a comment or tell a story. Now is the time to listen to the world around us, the sounds we screen out instead of embracing as part of the fullness of life. There is a rhythm to movement and the noise it creates, and if we listen carefully and long enough we’ll see people walking up the steps in time to the beat of a car coming around the corner, or the landing of birds while a tree branch bends. If we listen we can hear the rhythm that holds us in sync with each other, each sound a grace note of life. 

May your holiday be rich in all the best ways.

Bad Boys and Girls

~ dzchurch ~ 8 Comments

Some of the most fun I have when writing is fleshing out the character of the bad boys and girls who may not be the villain(ess) but who add depth and color to the hero(ine) ‘s troubles. Occasionally, one bad boy or girl will demand more reader time. No matter how carefully plotted a book or series is, they refuse their assigned part, wanting more. I always think of Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet when characters pitch a fit, because to my way of thinking, Shakespeare killed Mercutio because Mercutio insisted on vibrantly stealing the show.

A rampant bad boy or girl in a mystery or thriller can be a problem or add unexpected depth to the plot and to the main character. I have had more than one walk-on demand extra story time. Sometimes like Shakespeare, I just whack them, either write them out or whack them, not as in cutting them from the text, but as in off them in the story. Still some refuse to take their curtain call, one example is an Indochine named Pierre Minotier who slunk his way into my Cooper Quartet series. He is a walk-on in Dead Legend, a shadowy figure in Head First, a player in Pay Back, and that’s just the first three books. Trust me, Pierre inhabits Don’t Tell, the newly published final book in the series..

What is it about Pierre?

Pierre was raised on the family plantation, Bonne Chance, southeast of Saigon. His father, a French plantation operator, was both a legitimate businessman and head of one of the five French sanctioned opium cartels. As his father leaves for Dien Bien Phu and his death, he burdens Pierre with the family business(es), entreating his son to ensure his sister Chloe’s safety, not that Pierre’s sister needs much saving. Chloe is a pistol, too. Still, Pierre makes a deal to get Chloe out of Vietnam that brings him to near ruin, requiring him to consider his future, the cartel’s future, and whose side he takes in the Vietnam War.

Pierre is a raptor, and I’m very fond of him. I hadn’t meant it to be that way. At first, I felt betrayed by his refusal to fade away before realizing he had an irresistible sleazy, rotten, wonderfulness about him and welcomed him to each successive book. And in turn he enlivened the books, adding a bit of rot to each, and moral ambiguity to my hero Laury Cooper’s journey. That’s a lot to carry for a bit player that wasn’t supposed to exist.

Is it his sleaze or his power?

Before Pierre appears in Dead Legend, Laury Cooper considers Pierre’s reputation:

The one-hundred-year-old Minotier franchise was operated by Chloe’s brother, Pierre. Laury knew him by reputation. They had never met.

Over drinks in Saigon, Philippe Latondre, the photographer, had ratted that Pierre bought and resold downed pilots for exorbitant amounts of lucre. Latondre boasted, as though Pierre was some how his, that Pierre was adrift, immoral, deadly, corrupt, loaded with funds and impossible to find, moving as he did in the dappled gray of the shadow business.

In Head First, Robin Haas, Laury Cooper’s cousin, finds an envelope folded between the pages of Jolie Minotier’s diary (Chloe’s daughter). Robin shares it with the darling Chief Warrant Officer Dan Cisco, another bit player who refused to stay within the bounds set for him. His footprint grows in each ensuing book, a bit of a ying to Pierre’s yang. If Pierre is a dark knight, Dan is a dumpling.

“The address on the envelope is in San Leandro.”

“She’s sixteen. Her mother and her pack of Rottweilers are in town. They tried to nab her in Berkeley, she came to you. There aren’t a whole lot of people she trusts. For some reason, you appear to be one of them. Pierre Minotier may be another.”

“Not Pierre, Dan. No.” Robin disagreed.

By Pay Back, Pierre demands everyone’s attention:

A small, elegant man in his mid-forties perched on the cot at the back of the chamber. He was blond and dark-eyed with a two- or three-day growth of reddish-blond beard. He was dressed, not unlike Cooper, in white linen slacks, with socks, blue canvas shoes, and a soft, yellow lawn shirt that fit. He crossed to Cooper with his right hand extended, showing the copper bracelet he wore around his wrist.

“Mais, oui.” Pierre directed Cooper away from the others, his silky gate silent in his canvas shoes. Cooper and Minotier were a study; one dark, one light, one tall, one short, yet both moved as though their timing belts were tuned perfectly for combustion.

And, finally, in Don’t Tell. Pierre Minotier and Laury Cooper are joined by mutual daring and admiration:

Pierre rotated the envelope so that the flap faced Laury. “Avant de l’ouvrir, I have had the contents for a month. It was a gift of sorts, more a bribe, je pense. These people, they are not what they wish you to believe, mon cher. They do not play with fairness.”

“And you are overcome by French-ness,” Laury quipped.

Pierre lifted one shoulder, stared into the brightening fog, and said, “Mais oui. I find these things difficult with those I have strong feelings for—good or bad.” A frisson rode up Laury’s back at the softness in Pierre’s voice.

Or the whole package?

I took great care in writing Pierre’s character, and in return he offered shading, nuance, moral ambiguity and more than a few thrills. He has his fierce loyalties. To those he trusts, he is patient, caring, and slyly supportive. Over the arc of the Quartet, Pierre skulks from a shadowy, frightening participant in a horrifying scam to an ally, the kind you can rely on when all of the cards are against you — for a price — a price you may not expect or want to pay. I’m glad he fought for his place in the telling, stayed true to himself and the Coopers, and let me have fun with a character that, like Crabby Appleton of yore, is rotten to the core. Or is he?

The books of the Cooper Quartet, Dead Legend, Head First, Pay Back and Don’t Tell are available in ebook, papeback and hardcover on Amazon. Pierrre starts here: https://www.amazon.com/Dead-Legend-Cooper-Quartet-Church/dp/1735520829.

The Darkest Hour is Just Before Dawn by Karen Shughart

~ kshughart47 ~ 8 Comments

One of my favorite songs of the 60’s and 70s is “Dedicated to the One I Love,” which was performed by multiple groups, my two favorites the ones sung by The Mamas and the Papas and The Shirelles. The last line in the first stanza ends with the words, “And the darkest hour is just before dawn.”

The line in that song has both a literal meaning-the darkest hour is just before dawn-but also a metaphorical one. During our personal struggles and darkest emotional hours, when doom and gloom seem to permeate our lives, sometimes light and happiness are truly just around the corner, if we can hold on long enough to wait until that happens. If we’re patient, and sometimes we must pay attention before we are aware of it, dawn comes.

The song has meaning to me in another way.  Living here in the north, on the south shore of Lake Ontario, the days are short and the nights long this time of year. But it’s not as depressing as it sounds, because if you’re willing to rouse yourself in the middle of one of these nights, you can sometimes view a breathtaking display of Northern Lights over the lake.

Light is a theme in our village, especially from Thanksgiving through Christmas. Our tiny visitors’ center is decorated to look like a gingerbread cottage, trimmed with bright, colorful lights and surrounded by decorated, brightly lit trees.  A tree-lighting ceremony in the park brings villagers out to sing carols, enjoy hot beverages and snacks and warm themselves around brightly burning fire pits.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

You’ll notice telephone poles wrapped with garlands of evergreens twinkling with white lights and topped with red bows. Lights glimmer on bushes, are wrapped around trees and woven through fences. Candle-lit luminaria line walks, and fairy lights peek through holiday wreaths and garlands.

It’s not by accident, I think, that so many cultures celebrate holidays and festivals from late fall into winter that revolve around light. In many communities you’ll see Menorahs in windows, candles burning brightly, to celebrate the Jewish holiday of Chanukah which commemorates a miracle that happened thousands of years ago. 

Candles also burn in Kinaras as Black families celebrate Kwanzaa, to remember their cultural heritage and traditional family values. Hindu families decorate with lights in-and-outside their homes for Diwali, a festival in remembrance of a period in their history when good triumphed over evil. I expect there are others, too.

So, when the days are short and the nights long, how comforting it is to know that many cultures celebrate holidays and festivals that bring light into their lives and homes to brighten those darkest hours just before dawn.