I’m excited to introduce you to my friend and fellow mystery/crime writer, Debra Purdy Kong and her latest crime fiction. If I remember correctly, the “gold satin” has something to do with a thong. My my!
I met Debra a few years ago at a Crime Writers of Canada event and we went on to share the stage at readings and events. Debra’s a seasoned author who knows how to paint a scene and entice her audience into reading more. See the first scene teaser below.
Debra’s volunteer experiences, criminology diploma, and various jobs inspired her to write mysteries set in BC’s Lower Mainland. Her employment as a campus security patrol and communications officer provided the background for her Casey Holland transit security novels.
Debra has published short stories in a variety of genres as well as personal essays, and articles for publications such as Chicken Soup for the Bride’s Soul, B.C. Parent Magazine, and The Vancouver Sun. She is a facilitator for the Creative Writing Program through Port Moody Recreation and a long-time member of Crime Writers of Canada. She lives in British Columbia, Canada.
The Blurb:
Transit cop Casey Holland has never met a bus passenger like the charming artist and exotic dancer, Eduardo. The bus driver Lily has certainly befriended him. But when Eduardo’s charged with murder, Lily’s caught in the middle of his legal trouble. Afraid of losing her job and custody of her son, she begs Casey for help in proving Eduardo’s innocence.
Casey’s search for answers takes her and her best friend Kendal to a troupe of strippers known as Man Cave. While the men are busy peeling off their clothes, Casey’s peeling back layers of secrets and betrayal. Nuttier than her usual adventures, the risk is just as deadly in this seventh installment of the Casey Holland transit mysteries.
When I read the blurb for Debra’s latest Casey Holland novella, I was intrigued by the character Eduardo and the male strippers known as The Man Cave. I really think Eduardo needs to meet up with my protagonist, Estrada, and spend some time at Club Pegasus. Estrada would be happy to introduce Eduardo to beautiful women so he could leave his bus-hopping days behind. Anyway, I asked Debra to tell me about Eduardo.
Where did Eduardo come from and what was the inspiration for this book?
I wanted to create a character who’s relatively uncomplicated and positive, yet still interesting. Eduardo’s a composite of people I met while working as a campus security guard several years ago, although none of them were aspiring artists or part-time strippers, like Eduardo. Some were new immigrants who struggled with English. They were engineers, doctors, and dentists in their birth countries and doing whatever they could to pay the bills until they acquired Canadian accreditation. They were the sweetest, most respectful guys to work with. There were also a few coworkers who possessed a great deal of swagger and over-confidence in their abilities.
Those experiences reinforced a truth I’ve known for some time. There’s always much more to people than meets the eye, and not everyone’s motives are negative. Eduardo is flawed, but he’s also a happy, easygoing guy. He’s an artist, a professional escort, and a stripper. He loves his family and wouldn’t wish harm on anyone, which is why his arrest for murder baffles him.
I chose those jobs for Eduardo because it suits his character. It also creates a quirky, somewhat awkward situation for Casey and her husband Lou. In the previous books, Casey’s work as a security officer for a bus company has either evolved into or merged with serious and dangerous situations. I wanted to give her a bit of a break from that level of intensity while still investigating a crime. To be honest, I haven’t been to a real-life Chippendales-type show. A member of my writers’ group has, though, and she shared some great insights about female audiences. In my early twenties, my boyfriend at the time took me to see female strippers. As I recall, the male audience was exceptionally well-behaved compared with the women in my story. But as characters discover in A Gold Satin Murder (a novella), actions, in and out of the shows, have consequences
Are you intrigued? Do you want more?
Here are the buy and connect links. But scroll down for a little September gift from Debra and read the first scene!
After a decade of security work for Mainland Public Transport, Casey Holland had learned that troublesome passengers were usually rude, loud, and poorly dressed. But the gorgeous, broad-shouldered man in the charcoal suit, white shirt, and bright red tie strutting down the aisle was a new, intriguing challenge.
The moment the man spotted Casey, he gave her a broad, toothy smile. Cool. Her silky, low-cut tank top and dangling crystal earrings were doing their job. Undercover assignments rarely involved dressing up, but passenger complaints about a hot guy who’d been badgering women to model for his paintings required a different fashion choice. Besides, the bus was way too warm this late-July evening. The less she had to wear the better.
Casey winked at the man, then tilted her head toward the empty seat next to her. He slowed his pace and nodded to the gaping middle-aged woman he passed by. Judging from a quick survey, the man had caught the attention of most passengers. The men didn’t look as impressed as the women, though.
“Hola, señorita.” Gold-flecked brown eyes glanced at her hands as he sat down. “I am Eduardo from Ecuador.”
“Casey. From Vancouver,” she replied. “How are ya?” To reveal she was a señora who’d been happily married for just over a year might put him off, so the wedding rings stayed home.
“Excelente.” He beamed. “I am here only three months, but I am in love with Vancouver. It has many interesting people.”
“That it does.” His cedarwood and vanilla cologne sent a jolt of nostalgia through Casey. When Dad was alive, she occasionally gave him a bottle of something similarly scented for Father’s Day. She sat up straighter and zeroed in on Eduardo. Not the time for reflection.
“I apologize if my English is not so good,” Eduardo said.
“It sounds fine to me.” She smiled. “Do you live in this part of the city?”
“Si. Only one block away. I love to walk and ride the buses and talk to people.”
He’d have many opportunities to do exactly that in Vancouver’s densely populated West End. Thanks to nearby Stanley Park, the popular English Bay beach, and many eateries, the area attracted tons of tourists as well as visitors from other areas of the Lower Mainland.
“Your eyes!” Eduardo slapped his hand over his heart. “La violeta. Extraordinario! I have not seen such a shade before. I am professional artista. May I paint you? It would be great honor! You are so be-eau-tiful.”
“Thank you.” Great honor and beautiful were the exact words two of the complainants had used in their written statements. “So, how many women have you approached about painting their portraits, especially while riding this bus?”
“Qué?” Eduardo’s smile faded. “Why do you ask me this?”
“I’m with Mainland Public Transport security.” She showed him her ID card. “We’ve had harassment complaints about you. One woman threatened to involve the police if it happened again.”
His eyes widened. “This cannot be.”
“The complaints said you wouldn’t take no for an answer until they either changed seats or left the bus.”
Eduardo sat back in his seat. “I am stupefied!”
Casey didn’t buy the naïve act. “Harassment of any type on MPT buses is against company policy.”
He fidgeted, not quite meeting her gaze. “I am just a single man who loves ladies and to create art.”
Eduardo produced a business card depicting an elegantly designed maple tree with crimson and tangerine leaves. But anyone could create a card and pass himself off as an artist.
“Is difficult to find models in new city. Art schools are filled up.” He frowned. “And many ladies choose to sit next to me and ask what I do to earn money.”
She believed him. Given the lusty stares a couple of women were tossing his way, Eduardo had probably found more than a few willing models and dates.
“Is it wrong to talk about art, or to ask a be-eau-tiful lady on a date? I might break bus rules, but I am not breaking real laws, no?”
Casey sighed. “Are you and I going to have a problem?”
He raised his hands, palms facing her. “I do not want trouble, but I must pursue my art.”
“Eduardo, the rules are there for a reason. They also give me the authority to kick you off any MPT bus if you’re breaking them.” Casey paused. “If you’re going to discuss portrait painting, then be clear about what you want. If you’re turned down, then I strongly advise you to leave the passenger alone. I assume you expect to be paid for your portraits?”
Eduardo nodded. “I do this not only for money but to find true soulmate.” He lowered his head. “I am not so lucky in love. Is heartbreaking road filled with big potholes.”
“Uh-huh.” She studied him. “Do you think you’ll find love on a bus?”
“I search everywhere.”’
Eduardo’s expression and demeanor seemed sincere, but she had her doubts about this guy.
“You must have tried dating apps,” she said.
“Si.” He grimaced. “They were not good. Is better to meet ladies in person.” He gave her a whimsical look. “Everywhere.”
Meaning he intended to keep chatting up women on MPT buses. Eduardo might be better looking and more polite than other rule breakers, but his resistant attitude was all too familiar. She’d be seeing him again, no doubt, and their second encounter wouldn’t be as cordial.
“Just be careful about what you say,” she cautioned. “Misunderstandings happen easily.”
The corners of Eduardo’s full, sensuous mouth turned down. “What shall I talk about? The boring weather? Is what others do.”
“Eduardo, buddy, unless someone speaks to you first, it might be best if you didn’t talk at all.”
Welsh-Canadian crime aficionado, Cathy Ace, has been writing up a storm—in this case, a veritable dust storm—featuring her mystery-solving avatar, Cait Morgan. In Book Twelve, the criminal psychologist and her ex-RCMP husband, Bud, fly to Arizona as guests-of-honour of the Desert Gem, a posh new restaurant run by their sweet chef-friend, Serendipity Soul.
This is my favourite Cait Morgan crime romp for a few reasons.
Landscape. The landscape truly becomes a character in this novel. This story really couldn’t be set anywhere else. Before heading to the Desert Gem, Cait and Bud tour Frank Lloyd Wright’s desert oasis, Taliesin West with its “emerald grass and turquoise waters . . . rust-coloured paint . . . and saguaro cactus.” The Sonoran Desert in Arizona is a stunning location, rife with its own mythology, and like the infamous Sedona, attracts artists and eccentrics.
Imagination. Linda, leader of the Faceting for Life movement is the personification of a Navajo Goddess, the Turquoise Woman, right down to her turquoise toes. She actually dips her feet in dye weekly to keep them that way. She wears turquoise robes, and her dig is decorated in real turquoise. Linda is the cult leader until she’s discovered dead in her bed from an apparent, elaborate suicide. Zara then assumes her mother’s position and channels her dead father, Demetrius Karaplis. Ace’s foray into cult research is obvious—“let’s not drink the Kool-Aid”—but feathered by her brilliant imagination. The devotees “sway and hiss” their mantra, “Facet and Face It,” while Ace deepens our experience with an exploration of the “fourteen Critical Facets,” terms such as “buffing” (of the facets), and the billion-dollar business buffed by Zara using her father’s words.
Language. Speaking of words, Ace obviously had tons of fun naming her characters and acknowledges that several of the names pay homage to literary friends including KSue, Dru Ann, and Linda Karaplis. Chapter titles are a witty smorgasbord of oxymorons—“Serene Turbulence, Rustic Elegance, Unsettled Settling, Abnormally Normal,” and my favourite, “Uncommunicative Communicator.” We all know one of those.
The faceting language sets us squarely inside the cult. And, if that’s not enough, the text is peppered with unexpected terms and Britishisms (I’m unsure as to which are which) to remind us that both Ace and her counterpart, Cait Morgan, grew up in Wales—“chalk and cheese, mugged a salute, kerfuffle, slanging, yompy, lumpen substance.” Sleepy Bud makes “truffling” noises and Cait wears white “spudgy” shoes. Ace’s affinity with language surprises, delights and leaves us craving more.
Eco-everything. The Desert Gem is created in “pueblo revival architectural style” and illuminated by dancing flames of fire bowls around a central plaza. No electric lights are permitted after dark in this Earth-conscious community. Facetors and visitors live in small simple “digs” circling the plaza. Ace invites us into Cait and Bud’s dig with a vivid description that has me, for one, wanting to travel south. The Desert Gem is an eco-testament with a solar farm, waste-water treatment area, bio-digester, gardens, pool, amphitheatre, communications hub and refectory. Who wouldn’t want to stay awhile and buff their facets?
It’s all well and good until the bodies start piling up—all apparent suicides of major faceting players.
If you haven’t read any of Cathy Ace’s cozies, Turquoise Toes is a great place to begin. Each can be read alone, but your appreciation of Cait and Bud can be enriched by living their adventures in sequence. Cait is a strong, independent woman gifted with an eidetic (photographic) memory which allows her to decimate the villains triumphantly in her big reveal. Ace really kicks it up a notch in Turquoise Toes.
Griffiths’s latest Ruth Galloway archaeological crime mystery sends us forward in time as well as backward. She’s now Head of Archaeology at North Norfolk U and her daughter, Kate, is thirteen. DCI Nelson, Kate’s father, and the love of Ruth’s life, is still living with his wife and helping raise their three-year-old son (although his parentage is questionable if I remember correctly). But, that’s the kind of guy Nelson is. But hey, come on, don’t you think it’s time you lived your truth, Nelson?
There’s plenty here for readers who enjoy unravelling a murder mystery along with Nelson’s crack detective team, while delving into the lives of old familiars—Ruth & Nelson, Cathbad & Judy—and there’s a new archaeologist in town, David Brown, whose enthusiasm and connection with The Night Hawks make him suspect, and Ruth terribly annoyed.
The Night Hawks are a group of amateur archaeologists and metal detectorists, who wander at night searching for prize loot buried under England’s soil. They discover a Bronze Age hoard along with a three-thousand-year-old body on the beach, and nearby another body—a man recently deceased. Then they discover a bloody scene at a spooky farm house that appears to be a murder-suicide carried out by the husband, a scientist who’s not a very nice guy at all. Add to this soup, the legend of the Black Shuk, a giant black dog with red eyes that prowls the vicinity of Black Dog farm where the alleged murder-suicide occurred, and you’ve got an up-all-night-read brewing.
ellygriffiths.co.uk
One year, I’ll read this whole series from beginning to end again. I’d love to see this series come to television. Producers, please.
It’s been some time since I read an installment of the DreadfulWater Mysteries. Too long. The Red Power Murders (2017) was my first. With the latest Thomas King mystery about to launch, I decided to catch up with Obsidian, released 2020. Plus, I love the shiny black volcanic rock, so was enticed by the title. While reading Thumps DreadfulWater’s adventures, I could hear King’s voice narrating, and that got me thinking about his mocking comedy style, and where I first heard it.
Way back in 1997, King created CBC Radio’s Dead Dog Café, where he played straight man to Jasper Friendly Bear and Gracie Heavy Hand at the fictional town of Blossom, Alberta. I used to listen and laugh along with the fifteen-minute CBC episodes on the car radio while driving my daughter to taekwondo. If you’ve never heard Indigenous satire at its finest, you can catch episodes on youtube. I’d previously read Medicine River and Green Grass, Running Water while attending Trent University’s Indigenous Studies program. The latter is a 1993 Trickster novel, nominated for the Governor General’s Award. I add this preamble because the DreadfulWater Mysteries echo the same wry, ironic tone that characterizes King’s writing while offering a classic who-done-it mystery that will appeal to all those who love crime novels.
Obsidian takes Thumps back six years to a tragic time when he was a deputy sheriff and his girlfriend, Anna, and her daughter, Callie, were killed by a serial killer on the Northern California Coast. It doesn’t get much worse than that. They never caught the guy, who killed eight other people during his killing spree. Perhaps that’s why Thumps has given up law enforcement to become a photographer—something that Thomas King does exceptionally well. Check out his photos here. DreadfulWater’s ancestry is Cherokee, as is King’s. I feel an alter-ego lurking here.
Thumps returns to Chinook, only to discover that the producer of a true-crime reality TV show who’s investigating “The Obsidian Murders” had come there to talk to him but been murdered. Moreover, Maslowe’s found with a piece of obsidian in her mouth—the trademark of the original serial killer. Is he now in Chinook or is this a copycat killer? Either way, the news leaves Thumps feeling both troubled and curious.
Naturally, there’s a café in Chinook populated by funny friends. The banter between Thumps, Cooley Small Elk, and Moses Blood is reminiscent of the characters at Dead Dog Café. The story is largely plot-driven and heavy in dialogue—humorous dialogue—which is no surprise since King is also a screenwriter. I’m surprised the Thumps DreadfulWater Mysteries haven’t been purchased for screen yet. With their Canadian/Indigenous humour they’d make a splash—think Schitt’s Creek merged with Blackstone.
Maslowe has left Thumps a name—Raymond Oaks—who, it turns out, was Anna’s husband before he was sent to prison for life (robbery-homicide) and released on a technicality just around the time of the killings. Thumps is enlisted by Sheriff Duke Hockney to help investigate the murder and joined by his slick deputy-friend, Leon Ranger.
Not long after, Thumps is approached by a strange trio of film producers—Mercer, Gerson, and Shipman—who’ve come to Chinook to make a cable movie based on the Obsidian murders. “People, it seemed, liked to be disgusted, liked to be terrified, and broadcasters without borders had quickly learned to mine this deep and disturbing vein in the American psyche” (89). King is a masterful storyteller who writes ironically about his own work, and peppers his stories with political opinion, satire, sage wisdom, and the occasional belly laugh. If you’ve never read him, this is a great way in.
There are several characters embedded in this edition who I want to know more about. That means going back to the beginning with DreadfulWater, originally published in 2002. Obsidian can be read as a standalone mystery but would definitely be richer with more background and description. These characters can quickly become old friends worth knowing. Check out The DreadfulWater Mysteries for a seductive and respectfully irreverent read you can’t put down.
This book starts halfway through the ten-book Marc Edwards Mysteries series. I chose to read it first because it’s set in Upper Canada 1838, and I’m sliding into that time myself to do some historical research for a family history. Published in 2013 by Touchstone, the series is written by poet, author, and Western University professor emeritus, Don Gutteridge.
The story is set at a key historic moment when two Canadas are struggling for power: predominantly French Lower Canada (Quebec) and very British Upper Canada (Ontario). Rebellions have disturbed the peace in both.
A Little Political Background
Louis-Joseph Papineau, a French-Canadian reformer born in Montreal, led the rebel Patriotes in a rebellion in November 1837. They opposed the power of the Catholic Church, the British Governor, and his advisors, the Chateau Clique. After the Patriotes were defeated, many French-Canadian settlements were burned to the ground, and Papineau fled into exile in the United States. Fleeing to the USA is a popular theme especially in the old days when borders were a little less guarded.
The following month, a Scottish newspaper publisher, William Lyon Mackenzie, and his radical followers attempted to seize control of the government in Upper Canada and declare the colony a republic. As in Lower Canada, an elite clique of pro-British businessmen called the Family Compact, ran the colony through a system of patronage. The rebels wanted democracy. Many of them were American farmers who’d moved north following the War of 1812. For four days, Mackenzie and his rebels gathered at Montgomery’s Tavern, then they marched south on Toronto’s Yonge Street. Guns were fired. Confusion ensued, and they dispersed. Perhaps spending four days convening in a tavern was not the wisest plan? Mackenzie and his group eventually fled to the United States where they joined with American rebels and wreaked havoc along the border.
By the following summer, Britain still ruled from across the sea, the cliques still ran both Canadas—one French, one English—and problems still hung in the air.
What About These Bloody Relations?
Enter Lord Durham. John George Lambton Durham was made governor general to both Upper and Lower Canada, and sent abroad to sort things out and write a report. The earl was nicknamed “Radical Jack” because he swayed to the liberal side of the Whig party. In the end, Durham recommended union of the Canadas, assimilation of French Canadians, and the introduction of responsible government—an elected assembly responsible to the people, rather than a top-down monarchy. The real Lord Durham was a somewhat sickly character. Gutteridge says: “Lord and Lady Durham did visit Toronto for a day and a half in July 1838, their stay cut short by the earl’s suffering a recurrence of his migraine and neuralgia.”
http://uppercanadahistory.ca
It’s during Lord Durham’s visit to Toronto in July 1838 that Bloody Relations takes place. I mention the political background because it is important to the plot of the story and Durham’s report changed Canada forever.
As I said, this is a murder mystery, so early on a sort of “locked-room murder” occurs in a brothel in Irishtown. Lord Durham’s shy, inebriated, nephew, Handford Ellice, is discovered snuggled in bed beside poor dead Sarah McConkey. He’s still unconscious, though she’s been stabbed through the neck. And, he’s holding the knife in his hand. Madame Renee had barred the outside door after Ellice was admitted and then gone off to bed along with the three other women who worked for her. So, inside the locked brothel are three prostitutes, the madame, and Ellice. The key questions? Who done it? And why are there no blood trails if it wasn’t Ellice?
While on patrol, Constable Horatio Cobb is called to the bloody murder scene by one of the distraught prostitutes. When he realizes who the alleged perpetrator is related to, he suggests that Marc Edwards handle the rather sensitive investigation. Marc and his wife, Beth, have just been to a soiree the previous evening with Lord and Lady Durham and met Ellice; in fact, Beth danced with the shy Ellice and befriended him. Now, he’s accused of murder and the Edwards are determined to get to the truth. Edwards feel that Ellice may have been set up to derail Lord Durham’s task.
It’s a brilliant set-up for a murder mystery and Gutteridge’s literary prose, combined with his poetic prowess and believable dialogue, brings the characters to life. The settings are vivid, especially Irishtown:
“The area was essentially a squatter’s haven. Its three dozen dwellings were ramshackle affairs at best: half-log shanties, clapboard hovels, temporary lean-tos confected out of the handiest scraps and flotsam of the town they appended, as welcome as a carbuncle on a buttock” (31).
I grew up just east of Toronto and worked downtown during my late teens so am familiar with many of the streets and locations: Yonge, Bay, Queen, College Park, Osgoode Hall. And I remember being threatened with ending up on Jarvis Street, the domain of prostitutes, if I didn’t mend my ways.
Murdoch Mysteries is set in Toronto fifty years later, but fans of the constabulary would enjoy the Marc Edwards Mysteries. There’s a similarity in the type of murders, the characters themselves, their speech, and behaviour.
My Research
I hadn’t thought about the effect of politics on my characters until reading this novel. Now, I’m left wondering what it would be like for a common French carpenter and his Irish wife and children to live in Cobourg, a small harbour town in Northumberland County, just east of Toronto, in these Tory-dominated days.
1830s Cobourg
What were their political leanings? Did they support the radicals? Perhaps, want to join the throng of three thousand who came to Queen’s Wharf to meet Lord and Lady Durham’s steamer? After all, Antoine Fusee had married his fourteen-year-old bride (Louisa McNally) in Montreal only three years prior (1835). Or would they keep quiet and submit to Tory rule? Were they merely concerned with subsistence and survival? Was it even safe to be French in Upper Canada?
As for the Marc Edwards Mysteries, I think I must read them all. Don Gutteridge is a find.
Don Gutteridge, Professor Emeritus, University of Western Ontario
This is the tenth cozy mystery featuring Cait Morgan, a fifty-ish, marmite-munching, tea-drinking, Welsh-Canadian sleuth who works as a criminal psychologist at a B.C. university on a mountain I’m sure I attended. I recognize those inlet views. In fact, Ace’s dashes of local colour really pulled me into this book.
After travelling the world for nine books solving light, cozy international murders (yes, no slash and gore is possible) Cait and her ex-RCMP/Intelligence officer husband, Bud, become embroiled in a possible murder right next door to their home on Red Water Mountain. Their ninety-year-old neighbour, Gordy Krantz, is discovered dead. He’s recently been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and suicide seems plausible until the coroner’s report comes back and they discover that old Gordy had been dosed with hemlock.
In between bouts of cooking, cuddling her Labrador retriever, and watching Scandi-noir (who doesn’t love Scandi-noir?), Cait investigates with the guile of Agatha Christie by pretending she’s collecting information for the eulogy Gordy directed her to write in his will. An eccentric cast of locals, one of whom is a garden centre mogul, rounds out the suspect list.
Early on, Cait and her faithful husband Bud (I still don’t know who’s more faithful, Bud or the dog?) acquire a disgusting mattress full of Gordy’s journals and using her eidetic memory, Cait is able to sort and file his life story from 1954 to 1993 all in her mind. After conducting her polite investigations, Cait laments: “This isn’t a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, as Churchill spoke of Russia; this is a maze of bricks walls, all ten feet high, with no apparent way out.” But get out she does. Cait Morgan is an impressive woman, as is Cathy Ace.
Ace has been shortlisted for the Bony Blithe Award the last three out of four years and won in 2015 for Best Canadian Light Mystery. Her writing is stellar. Details, references, allusions, expertly crafted phrasing, and serious subjects punctuated by wit and humour. Her references to local settings intrigue me. I deduced that the elusive Red Water Mountain must be on the north side of Lougheed Highway just west of Mission and craned my neck when I drove through the other day hoping I would see it and know. Before immigrating to Canada, Ace was a marketing specialist, speaker, and trainer. I’ve seen her present and she’s as lively and entertaining as her books. The Cait Morgan Mysteries have been optioned by the UK company Free@LastTV who produced MC Beaton’s Agatha Raisin books for TV.
Living in a rural community everyone knows their neighbours. Or do they? Is the eccentric single man you move in beside really the man he says he is? Or could he be a killer? A thief? An imposter? Is the woman offering you tea trying to get to know you or investigating you? How many bodies are buried outside your door?
The Corpse with the Iron Will is published by Four Tails Publishing.
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