The Story Behind the Story – Rock ‘N’ Roll Never Forgets

Karen McCullough Posted on by

This week the Triangle Sisters in Crime released its third anthology, titled Rock, Roll, and Ruin.

My story in the anthology is titled “Rock ‘N’ Roll Never Forgets”. Although the Bob Seger song referenced by the title provided some initial inspiration for the story, the finished project has very little direct connection. It does draw heavily on my own experiences of playing guitar and singing with various groups over the years.

The basic idea for the story came first – a girl band on the brink of failure comes across a forgotten and enigmatic piece of music that appears to have incredible potential. When the group works on creating their own arrangement, though, they hit snag after snag. In frustration, they decide to investigate the background of the song, only to learn that the writer is in prison, having been convicted of the murder of a fellow band member. Believing that the music itself contains clues to what really happened, they decide to dig deeper into the story behind the song.

But there’s more than one version of that story and figuring out which is true may hinge on how to read the song itself.

As is my norm, I launched into the story with only the basic idea outlined in the one-sentence description a couple of paragraphs above. The rest started to gel as I continued to write and the scenes began to flow. But one of the disadvantages of being a pantser (an author who writes by the seat of their pants rather than from an outline) is that the story will twist and turn in the creation process, necessitating many revisions of what was written earlier. This one took more turns than I expected.

In fact, my process of writing the story somewhat echoed the band’s journey to understanding the song itself. I came to my own realization of what really happened as the words flowed. Earlier drafts with different solutions just didn’t work or didn’t feel right, so I tweaked and reconsidered and finally got to the solution that satisfied me.

Once I had what I thought was an acceptable draft, I let a few family members read it. They made suggestions I incorporated. Finally editor extraordinaire Karen Pullen had some great ideas to sharpen the focus and clarify the outcome. The result is a story I’m proud of.

I’m eager to read the rest of the stories in the anthology as soon as I get my copies!

Blurb:

In Rock, Roll, and Ruin, twenty-seven mystery writers serve up musically-themed crime stories around situations as unique as your inky fingerprints. There’s the bad-boy rock star, dumber than dirt, evading all attempts to keep him out of jail. Casino robbers undone by tribal flutes. A 1950’s jukebox that summons the dead and disappears the living. Jealousy drives girl band shenanigans, while a victim of botched plastic surgery seeks vengeance. Untimely deaths abound: at the prom, on a soap opera set, on a mountain-side hike. Several domestic “disagreements” are far from cliche: one wife is impatient and greedy; another wants her Stevie Nicks albums back; a third is desperate to get her husband to turn down the volume. Elvis fans will be tickled by the many mentions of the King himself, including an over-the-top fan club and a side-kick named after his dog. Whether trudging through snow in an Alaska forest, humming country music at a boatyard in Florida, playing sleuth at an assisted living facility, or stumbling backstage at the opera, irate, despairing, and deceived characters step into crime with barely a second thought.

Rock, Roll, and Ruin is a music-themed anthology of the Triangle, North Carolina chapter of Sisters in Crime. Some stories are cackling-out-loud funny, others are wickedly dark, but all are entertaining, original, un-putdownable. As Hank Phillippi Ryan writes in the Introduction, “Dip in to this concert of mystery, open to any story, and you’ll sing a chorus of approval.”

Praise for Rock, Roll, and Ruin:

“Double-crosses, divas, detectives, and divorces—all set against the soundtrack of our lives. Rock, Roll, and Ruin takes us on a rollicking musical trip down memory lane with Buddy Holly, Chuck Barry, Elvis, and a host of musical delights. Oh, and a murder or ten.” —Susan Van Kirk, President of the Guppy Chapter of Sisters in Crime and author of the Endurance Mysteries

“The clever theme of this delightful anthology leads to a plethora of fine short stories featuring music from rock and roll through gospel, country, ole time rock and roll, and opera. Sleuths range from teachers to physicians to waitresses to musicians. Authors are new and veteran. Rock, Roll, and Ruinindeed offers something for any mystery lover.” —Molly Weston, Mystery Writers of American Raven Award for Meritorious Mysteries

“From self-important bands through a high school sock hop to rabid fans, these 27 stories follow music-obsessed individuals as their lives descend into crime and mayhem. A fascinating look at danger in our music culture.” —KM Rockwood, author of the Jesse Damon crime novel series

“A rollicking good collection of crime stories powered by lyrics, strains, beats, and bop (on the head) malice.” —Molly MacRae, author of The Highland Bookshop Mysteries and The Haunted Yarn Shop Mysteries

“When the combination of mystery and music runs amok, the result is Rock, Roll, and Ruin—a book you can’t put down!” —Debra Goldstein, author of the Sarah Blair mysteries

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Rock-Roll-Ruin-Triangle-Anthology-ebook/dp/B0BB3DV6N5/

Playing at Murder is Available for Pre-order

Karen McCullough Posted on by

You can pre-order it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BFJS9FK9

 

Sneak Peek:

Chapter 1

Tuesday

Armies of super-heroes stood guard to the left of me, while lions, tigers, and bears gathered on the right. They all watched with silent concern as I zigged around an arsenal of armaments fueled by hydrogen dioxide and various mixtures of oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide. I faced my goal, Dougal the Dragon, head-on and stalked toward him. In my arms I cradled the all-important emergency medical supplies for his injured representative at this gathering. Heaven help us all if he couldn’t be saved.

Ding dong. That was a bit of wild fantasy, but I enjoyed letting my imagination loose on this mission. The touch of whimsy provided some diversion from the noise and chaos of setting up the Games and Playthings Exhibition at the Washington D.C. Commerce and Market Center. G&P, which was due to start the next day, was one of the largest trade shows for toys and games in the industry, and it brought the usual supply of problems and conflicts inherent in large events.

I tried to avoid being on the show floor as much as possible on set-up days. The constant banging of hammers, clanging of metal on metal, buzzing of electric screwdrivers, squeaking of dolly and cartwheels, warning chirps of the forklifts, and people shouting always induced a headache if I had to spend much time there. Not to mention having to pick my way around the pallets, crates, and boxes stacked everywhere and dodging those squeaking dollies and chirping forklifts.

I still ended up spending more time on the floor than I would’ve liked. Territorial disputes and arguments over arrangements broke out with sadly human regularity, and a large part of my job involved keeping the peace. Trying to, anyway.

This assignment was different. I let go of the fantasy illusion as I got to the Donneywell Enterprises booth, identified myself, and explained my mission.

“Heather McNeil,” I said to the person behind the only table set up in the booth space. “Assistant to the director of the Market Center. I was told you needed a sewing kit to repair one of your displays.” I set the box down on the table where a young woman with long brown hair scraped back from her face and tied in a messy braid at the back looked up from collating and stapling pages.

She stared at me with a blank expression, glanced down at my badge, but said nothing. Her expression went from vacant to wary.

“Can I speak to the person in charge of the booth?” I asked when the silence stretched out too long.

A voice spoke from the back. “That would be me.”

A woman in her late forties or early fifties stepped out from behind a pyramid of boxes at least a foot taller than she was. My first, none-too-kind impression of her was “overcooked.” Her blonde hair had the straw-like texture resulting from too much chemical treatment for too long a time, and the spray-tanned skin of her face had been lifted once too often already. Tight jeans and a fashionably shoulder-slit top showed off a slim figure that seemed to vibrate with contained energy. Good bones under the tight skin and lively green eyes made her attractive.

“Lorene Donneywell,” she said, holding out a hand. “I heard you say you were with the Market Center staff.” She had a strong New York accent.

“I’m the assistant to the director,” I repeated. “I handle a lot of trouble-shooting issues for her. I’ve brought the sewing supplies you requested.”

“Great. How long do you think it will take you?”

“Take me? To do what?”

“Fix the tear in Dougal.” She pointed to the eight-foot-tall display dragon I’d used to identify their booth. The creature, which must’ve been as long as it was tall, occupied nearly a third of their allotted double space. Along the side of his back, a seam had opened and leaked stuffing. Bits of cotton fluff clung to the green, plush fabric.

I hesitated, taken aback. “You requested a sewing kit, not a seamstress. I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing about sewing. Not even sure how the thread gets through the needle.”

Lorene rolled her eyes. “Why did they send you, then?”

“Because you asked for sewing equipment in a hurry. We got it as quickly as we could. We assumed you had someone on your staff who knew how to use it.”

The woman’s penciled-in eyebrows rose. “We all know what happens when you assume things.”

I kept my smile in place, despite the irritation roiling inside. I had so much experience keeping my emotions under control, I could maintain a pleasant façade with barely a thought. “Misunderstandings happen when people aren’t specific about what they need. Give me a minute and I’ll see if I can find someone to come and make the repairs.” I pulled out my phone but before I could press the button to turn it on, the girl I’d first met piped up.

“I can do it.”

We both turned toward her, but Lorene spoke first. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

The girl frowned at both of us. “No one asked.”

I turned to hide my grin since Lorene didn’t seem to appreciate the irony.

You can pre-order it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BFJS9FK9

Blurb and Cover for Playing at Murder

Karen McCullough Posted on by

I have a cover, a blurb, and a release date for Playing at Murder. The cover needed some last minute changes when there was a problem with one of the images, which had to be replaced with something else.

Blurb:
Dolls, constructions sets, stuffed animals, craft kits, and more are the featured displays in the annual Games and Playthings Trade Show at the Washington D.C. Commerce and Market Center, where vendors seek to convince retail buyers to stock their products. Murder and destruction aren’t supposed to be on the program.

The hit-and-run death of an exhibitor overshadows what should be a fun few days of giveaways, games, and demos. A gun hidden in a bin of stuffed animals, a damaged show car, and a drone knocking over the PlayBlox displays are the opening salvos of chaos created by a clever but unhinged vandal.

Settling disputes and fielding complaints are all in a day’s work for Heather McNeil, assistant to the director of the Market Center. Sussing out murder suspects to help the police is way beyond her job description, especially while trying to corner a vandal before the damage gets worse. Keeping the show running despite the mayhem will pit her and her allies, particularly Scott Brandon, the Center’s handsome but enigmatic security officer, against someone playing a deadly game.

Releases on October 19th. Pre-order should be available in a week or so.

 

A Visit to the Coast – Part 2 – Visiting Beaufort from the water

Karen McCullough Posted on by

Toward Beaufort. Contrasting houses -an older home on the left with a newer one on the right.

After the visit to Cape Lookout, we turned and retraced our route a bit to get back to Beaufort for a tour of the city from the water.

The narrow channel between the Beaufort waterfront and one long island of the Rachel Carson Nature Preserve is a “no wake” zone.  What that means in practice is that you have to take your boat along it slowly to keep it from generating waves.

I understand the rule is to prevent damage to the many expensive seacraft moored on the waterfront, but riding the channel at a moderate pace is a good idea anyway. There really isn’t a lot of room between the island and the city and boat traffic was heavy on a beautiful August weekend day. That slow drift allows lots of time to enjoy the scenery as well and there was plenty of that to take in.

Liz piloting the boat in the channel

From the time you enter the channel, on the outskirts of the city of Beaufort, the waterfront is lined with marinas housing everything from dinghies to multi-million-dollar yachts. Honestly, there’s almost no stretch of land that doesn’t have docks with bunches of boats moored to them.

On the east side of the city the houses that line the waterfront are a mix of old and new. The differences are stark. The older houses are small, one or two stories at most, modest in both size and demeanor. The newer ones are large and rambunctious, taking up most of their lot, three or four stories tall, with huge windows and balconies all over. They’re built to house larger families or even multi-family groups. I’ve seen this same phenomenon at other beaches. The fact is, these days waterfront property is too valuable for small houses.

Beaufort waterfront

As we drift near downtown, the docks are clustered close together. There are some mega-yachts at anchor here. In fact, boats of all sizes call this area home, including some fun, touristy things. A floating tiki bar goes by and we pass a replica of a pirate ship called “The Revenge.” We’ll pass it out on the water later. The crew are dressed in Jack Sparrow-approved pirate gear and the kids get to fire actual (water) cannons.

On the other side of Beaufort, large banks of hotels and condos are springing up, along with more elaborate commercial and fishing operations. We turned around at the new bridge over the inlet between Beaufort and Morehead City.

A floating tiki bar

On the other side of the narrow channel in front of Beaufort is the Rachel Carson nature preserve, a group of low-lying islands, tidal flats, and estuaries. (https://deq.nc.gov/about/divisions/coastal-management/nc-coastal-reserve/reserve-sites/rachel-carson-reserve) Although the area is home to a wide variety of intriguing coastal flora and fauna, the most interesting to most people are the wild horses. We caught one brief glimpse of a couple of horses on the return trip, but I wasn’t able to get a decent picture.

Finally as the afternoon waned, we emerged from the channel and headed back to

The Revenge – a tourist attraction. I believe that’s a dinner cruise boat behind it.

Harker’s Island, arriving with enough time to let us get cleaned up ahead of our dinner plans.

 

 

 

One of many large yachts

Beaufort commercial district

Rachel Carson Nature Reserve

Commercial fishing operation with the new US 70 bridge

A Visit to the Coast – Part 1 – Cape Lookout

Karen McCullough Posted on by

Liz points out the location of their boat business, DownEast Marine, on a large map!

Last weekend we got to spend a weekend with our daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and grandson-in-law, and great-grandson on Harker’s Island, near Beaufort, North Carolina.

We had a wonderful time, checking out Beaufort, having some great meals, visiting the NC Aquarium at Pine Sholls. More on the Aquarium trip later in the week.

There were a few extra little moments – getting to hold and cuddle my great-grandson, passing the giant Blackbeard statue at DownEast Marine (the boat business owned and operated by daughter and son-in-law), and seeing a family of bears (mama and two cubs) run across the road in front of the car. Unfortunately, I couldn’t whip out my phone fast enough to get a picture of the bears. They were moving fast and disappeared into the underbrush quickly.

We also had a chance to cruise the area in daughter and son-in-law’s own boat.

Once the boat was launched into the sound off Harker’s Island, we (four of us; the family with the young baby decided he wasn’t quite ready for his first boat trip) headed for Cape Lookout and its most famous landmark, the lighthouse there. It’s a quick twenty-minute jaunt in the boat, but navigation is tricky because much of the water is shallow, no more than a couple of feet deep in places. There are channel markers, but they can be hard to see.

Cape Lookout is an island that marks the southern end of the Outer Banks. It’s accessible only by boat, but there is a ferry (people, not cars) that runs from Harker’s Island.

Harker’s Island in the rear view.

Cape Lookout island has a lovely beach, with soft sand, shallow, clear water, the lighthouse, and a small museum and gift shop. After anchoring the boat a few feet out, we (my husband, daughter, and myself) splashed onto the beach, through knee-high water that in August was very warm. Son-in-law decided to stay with the boat which let us leave our bags there.

We walked the beach to the lighthouse, stopping to admire beautiful shells, crabs, and other unusual sea creatures along the way. Small fish swam in the very clear water almost to the very edge of the light waves lapping the sand. A few other boats were moored with visitors, but we apparently beat the ferries, which meant only a couple of dozen other people in the area.

A short walk took us to the keeper’s house at the base of the lighthouse, which has been turned into a museum. Going out the back door of the keeper’s house, puts you with a hundred yards of the lighthouse itself. It’s not currently open to the public due to safety concerns related to the structure, but I doubt we would have attempted the climb in any case.

We didn’t plan to spend a lot of time there since we had other goals for the day. However, the clear blue sky offered a perfect backdrop for taking pictures. The museum does have a room with a 360-degree panoramic image of the view from the top. It’s pretty spectacular. We gave the gift shop a pass as since none of us had brought money or credit cards.

On returning to the boat, we caught Alan lounging in a floating chair off the side. But he has been driving us around, so no one is complaining.

Leaving Cape Lookout, we turned to the west and navigated our way around the Rachel Carson nature preserve with its tidal islands and shallow waters. We had only one minor incident of running aground, but the boat is a skiff (meaning flat bottom and shallow draft) so it was easy to get it off and running again.

The rest of the trip was kind of a sightseeing expedition, traversing the narrow channel between the Beaufort waterfront and the Nature Preserve. More about that in the next post.  More pictures below.  (Click to enlarge.)

Approaching Cape Lookout

Liz dropping one of the anchors.

On the beach

Alan lounging

 

I’m a Great-Grandmother!

Karen McCullough Posted on by

Vinnie at 3 weeks

In May, 2022, my oldest granddaughter gave birth to a baby boy. He’s a beautiful, adorable baby, of course!

I’m still trying to process being a great-grandmother. I’m not really that old. (Am I?) Early seventies isn’t really old, right? I don’t feel old. (Except when I’m having a Covid relapse, but that’s happening less and less frequently.) I walk a mile and a third to a mile and a half almost every day and do strength exercises as well. I work in the garden most days. (When it isn’t 95 at nine o’clock on the morning.) I stay pretty active.

Most of my grandchildren are still children. But my oldest daughter had her children early, which made me a grandmother for the first time at the age of 42.  And now, that grandchild just had her first child.

Vinnie is adorable and precious.

Vinnie at 2 months

But I’m wrestling with what it means for me, personally.

His birth reminds me that my time is winding down.

I’ve had a good life. I’ve been married to the love of my life for more than fifty years, raised a great family, watched my children accomplish some amazing things, have wonderful grandchildren, and achieved a number of career goals. I’m blessed to have lived to meet a great grandchild. I don’t take that for granted. I know it’s a privilege not given to all.

Regrets? I have a few, but honestly I feel like if you don’t have a few regrets at my age you either haven’t really lived or you haven’t examined your life in any serious way.

But there are still things I want to do. I haven’t written all the books and stories I have in me. There are many places I want to visit. I’d like to see the rest of my grandchildren grow up.

I’m trying to take care of myself in hope that I’ll have more years to do all those things. At the same time, I want to live in the knowledge that every day I still have is a gift.

Cover Options for Playing at Murder

Karen McCullough Posted on by
Playing at Murder is off to beta readers, on the way to an October release, if all goes well.

I’m trying to decide between two possible covers for it.

The basic design is dictated by the pattern of the series, which starts with A Gift for Murder and continues in Wired for Murder. But each book has a ribbon at the bottom featuring an image that represents the product category of the trade show which forms the backdrop for each story. And there’s room for another item to the left above the title.

Playing at Murder is set at a trade show for toys and playthings.

Two different approaches to the cover. Which do you prefer?

Why I Watch the Tour de France

Karen McCullough Posted on by

(Hint: It’s not because I’m a big fan of professional cycling!)

One of the wonders of modern television is the vast array of sporting events that can be viewed live, no matter where or when they happen.

I like almost all sport, but time constraints mean I have to pick and choose which events I watch. Some are de rigueur due to their rarity and/or my rooting interest, like the Olympics, the World Series, the Super Bowl, and the NCAA Basketball Tournaments.

There are a few sports I don’t follow closely but enjoy watching certain events. One of those is the premier event of professional cycling, the Tour de France, which finished earlier today.

Our son got my husband and I interested in the race quite a few years ago, when he watched it at home. At first I was drawn in by the gorgeous French scenery (and that’s still a major draw), but this is the race that everyone dreams of winning, so there’s a lot going on beyond the obvious.

Grand tour road race cycling is an odd thing to watch. They are long events (three weeks), so there are long boring stretches when the racers seem to just pedal, pedal, pedal, with no obvious racing going on at all. Then suddenly someone will jump out in front, and usually everyone else will rush forward to catch up. Occasionally small groups will get away and sometimes stay away. For the most part, the last twenty minutes of a four-hour stage is when interesting things happen.

And yet there is always more going on. The more you learn about the race, the fascination with all of the permutations and tactics grows. Although there is only one overall leader, who wears the yellow jersey, there are other races within the race. There are contests for the best mountain climber and for the best sprinter, with places designated inside the race route for those contests, with points awarded for those who reach the spot first. And each day there is a stage winner, the person who crosses the finish line for the day first.  Those are all coveted prizes and competition for each is fierce.

The tactics can be complicated and interesting, though fate often takes a hand in the outcome. Crashes happen, often tripping up cyclists guilty of nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The bikes they ride are fine-tuned machines built for speed rather than endurance so pieces break, chains drop, and tires can go flat. Weather certainly played a part in this year’s tour with day-time temperatures on the course sometimes reaching over a hundred degrees.

Even though the race is contested and won by individuals, it is very much a team sport. No cyclist can compete without the support of strong team-mates, who can surround and protect him from road hazards, provide food and water during the stage, set the pace for the race, and even provide an extra bike to the leader should he (or she, since there are women’s races) have a crash or a mechanical issue. The overall contenders have to be individually strong enough to overcome all challenges, but the team provides necessary support.

This year’s race amply demonstrated the advantage a strong team can provide to the highest level cyclists. The winner of last year’s race was again matched up with the man who was a close second. But the defending champion lost half of his eight-man team by the end of the first week, either from illness (Covid is still a factor) or accidents. Last year’s runner-up had a stronger team around him to begin with and more of them made it to the end. When the stronger team goaded the defending champion with a flurry attacks (basically an attack is when a rider jumps off the front of the pack, hoping to get a lead), the man had to respond to all of them himself, and ultimately it wore him down.

A good recap of the race can be found here. (https://www.msn.com/en-us/sports/more-sports/incredible-vingegaard-wins-tour-de-france/ar-AAZV9Mm)

There are stories within stories. The race itself started in Denmark this year and the ultimate overall winner was a Dane. Two other Danish riders won stages. Another Canadian stage winner dedicated his win to his older brother who’d been killed by a hit-and-run driver while out jogging. Several young American cyclists made a good showing this year.

And, yes, there is a dark side. Even non-cycling enthusiasts have heard about the time when doping was endemic to the sport, and drug cheaters made the news. The sport has made significant efforts to clean things up, and testing is constant, but it would be foolish and naive to overlook the possibility that it still goes on.

But there is still that wonderful scenery. They take the race title Tour de France seriously in the television coverage. The helicopter provides amazing views of lovely countryside surrounding the race route, gorgeous chateaus, rivers, bridges, mountainsides, etc. It’s a feast for the eyes and a wonder to the armchair traveler. I’ve taken a few pictures of the TV screen with some of those amazing views.