First, I'm not "us". I'm me. I work alone. I'm a private eye. When my casebook's empty, I write books. Murder books. I wear a dark fedora and a trench coat even when it's a hundred and five in the shade. I pack an 11mm Marley that I bought at the Archie Goodwin estate sale. I know which end the slugs come out of. But 11mm slugs? Hard to come by these days.
People say I've got attitude. Attitude they don't like. I get that a lot. The cops and me? We're working toward the same end, but we're like water and electricity. I usually need a lawyer. I had a mouthpiece, but he fell off the back of an ambulance and got run over by a speeding Cooper. I'm alone and on my own. It's a mean life. I'm used to it.
Really, I'm not at all like that. I'm just a mild-mannered fellow who loves mysteries and detectives (public and private alike). I sit at my desk and drink coffee and daydream. I've never shot anybody and nobody's ever shot me. I've been happily married to the beautiful Irma since 1967. She helps me keep my feet on the ground.
I'm sure people in law enforcement laugh and/or snort at boo boos they run across in crime fiction. They may think the writers are stupid or simply ignorant. FYI we may or may not know what we're writing about, but in writing there's a technical term that covers this. It's called poetic license. It's legal.
I like murder mysteries and « romans noirs ». A couple of my books are not only murder novels, but fall under that classification as well.
Thanks wanting to know a little about me.
Still Life, with Music
both featuring Sacramento Homicide Detective Steve Music, featured in Music (aka The Crack in the Teacup)
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