The Questions
1) You’re
marooned on a small island with one person and one item of your choice—who is
that person and what item do you have?
It would have to be Alan, because I find
him to be so much fun. Even after 33 years. The item, hmmm, my Nook or chocolate.
What do I choose? I'd have to say my Nook, it will last longer.
2) Which
musical would you say best exemplifies your life – and which character in that
musical are you?
Wow, I love Funny Girl and A Star is Born.
But I have to say the Wizard of Oz. I would be Dorothy.
3) Take
these three words and give me a 100 word or less scenario using them: composite, cute, bloody
The detective was so darn cute; I couldn't
concentrate on the artist's composite of the crook even though he left me so
bloody.
4) You’ve
just been let loose in the world of fiction, with permission to do anyone you
want. Who do you fuck first and why?
Hmm!
Johnny Depp because he can be so many people
5) What
is your idea of how to spend romantic time with your significant other?
A quiet dinner and conversation and…
6) When
you start a new story, do you begin with a character, or a plot?
When a story comes to me it's like a movie.
I see the whole thing floating through my mind. Then I have to capture it on
paper.
7) If
they were to make the story of your life into a movie, who should play you?
I love Charlize Theron. She's such a great actress and so glamorous. Maybe
she could elevate me a little.
8) Who’s
your favorite horror villain and why? Children of the Corn. The anti-Christ
scared the bejeebes out of me.
9) Do
you have an historical crush and if so, who is it? No.
10) Is
there a story that you’d like to tell but you think the world isn’t ready to
receive it? I think every story has an audience. You just need to find them.
Back Cover:
Are rules really meant to be broken? Jake Carrington finds out the
hard way and the answer is no! Dating Chloe Wagner was a huge mistake, and Jake
should have known better—he’s investigating the murder of Chloe’s sister. Now
Chloe is the number one suspect in that murder. If she’s convicted, Jake could
lose not only his rank, but his job. If that’s not bad enough, he’s got a
stalker on his hands, someone who’s threatening his fledgling relationship with
the lovely Mia. Things are getting just a little too personal for comfort!
Excerpt:
On days like this, Jake questioned if there was a God. He held the
broken, lifeless body of the infant girl in his arms, tears running down his
face. He didn’t try to hide them. Jake’s emotions reflected in the eyes of
everyone. His partner Louie turned away and kicked the chair. Jake knew this
horror would live with each of them for the rest of their lives.
Keith Amara, the morgue assistant, tapped Jake on the shoulder.
“I’ll take her.”
“She didn’t have a chance.” Jake handed her to Keith.
“No, she didn’t.”
He lay the child on the stretcher with such care that Jake’s
respect for Keith increased immensely. Jake reached down and pulled the sheet
up over the baby to conceal her from the morbid crowd that waited in the street
below. He never understood the fascination of the onlookers at each crime
scene. He believed they hoped to view the body so they could talk about the
gruesome details, get their fifteen minutes of fame. Some would offer up a
silent prayer of thanks to God for the safety of their children. Tragedy, even
the tragedy of a stranger, affected people—it reaffirmed their zest for life,
even here in the slums.
Jake composed himself. Turning to face the suspect, he fisted his
hands at his side to contain his fury. The line of the law could be blurred
here, Jake understood. Each officer wanted a piece of the creep. Knowing he had
to keep a tight rein over the situation, Jake held his voice level when he
spoke to Washington. He saw no humanity in the suspect; his act alone proved
Washington had none. Looking into Washington’s eyes he observed they were dead,
like the child he’d killed. He wore a dirty, wrinkled cotton T-shirt with
stained jeans. The front of the jeans showed a large, wet patch where Washington
pissed himself. The only thing this creep cared about was his next fix.
Jake walked to the body, reached down and uncovered it, and forced
himself to look at the baby again. Her head, crushed in on the left side,
reminded Jake of a broken hardboiled egg. He could estimate the amount of force
that was required to cause such a wound, yet the baby didn’t die immediately.
She had lain there suffering until one of the older children snuck out of the
apartment and got a neighbor to call the police.
Now he stood in the doorway of the living room watching the police
process the room. A child who knew how to stay out of an adult’s way. Jake
guessed his age at nine, though his eyes were those of an old man. They
reflected life on the street. No child’s eyes should hold such darkness. He
understood the pain on the boy’s face, because every day of his life he dealt
with the violent death of his own sister at the age of fifteen. It haunted him,
invading his thoughts and dreams at unexpected times. Could he have done something
to prevent it?
“Man, you don’t understand. I couldn’t think with all the noise
from the kid. She never stopped crying. She cried all day, all night long, she
cried all the damned time. I couldn’t take it no more. Her mama shouldn’t have
left her here,” Washington rambled, turning to Jake.
Unbelievable. The suspect wanted sympathy. It took all of Jake’s
control not to ram his fist in the creeps’s face. Instead, he asked, “Where’s
her mother, Washington?”
“She went to work,” he slurred. “I gotta sit down, man.” The first
officer on scene had thrown him up against the wall, where he remained.
“I told you not to move a muscle. You move, every cop in the room
will be on you like flies on crap. They’d like nothing better than to take you
down. So stand still and start talking. What’s the mother’s name?”
“Her name’s Sheila Johnson.”
“You shut the hell up, kid, unless I tell you different, you
understand?” Washington shouted.
Jake pushed him hard into the wall. Washington let out a groan.
Jake whispered in his ear. “Don’t you dare move or speak, unless
you’re spoken to, understand?” Jake waited for him to nod before he spoke
again.
“Now apologize to…” Jake jammed the suspect into the wall again,
this time digging his elbow into the small of his back.
He was mad at himself because he didn’t bother to get the boy’s
name. He’d never asked. Jake looked at the boy. “What’s your name, son?”
“It’s Aaron. Please…” He trembled.
“There’s nothing for you to fear, Aaron, I won’t let this man near
you. He’ll be going away for a long time.”
“My…my mom works at the 7-Eleven. She won’t be home before
midnight.”
Jake looked at his watch. Seven o’clock. His next visit would
change lives. He hated this part of the job: the sadness, the denial,
eventually the grief that washed over them and then eased off when a survivor
started to accept the news. It’s bad enough when the notification’s for an
adult—how do you tell a mother her infant is dead? Murdered by the hand of the
child’s father? He motioned the uniform closest to him to take Aaron back to
the bedroom with the other kids.
Before he left the room, Aaron turned and spoke to Jake. “Her
name’s Keisha.”
“Excuse me?”
“The baby. Her name’s Keisha.” Aaron cried for the first time
since Jake arrived on the scene.
“We’ll make sure Keisha’s taken care of, Aaron.”
He nodded and left the room.
“Tough kid,” Louie said.
“He’ll need to be,” Jake responded.
About the Author:
Marian’s If I Fail, A Jake Carrington Mystery is her debut novel.
Since she discovered books at the early age of five she’s been reading
non-stop. Mysteries are her favorite genre. She writes full time and has just
completed her second book in the Jake Carrington Series. Her passions are
reading and writing. She lives in Connecticut with her husband and enjoys snowboarding
and boating.
Jules, thank you for having me here today. Sorry for the late start. Still having connection problems here in the Northeast.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome here any time, Marian! Glad you came through the storm intact!
DeleteHi Marian. Great interview. Just for the record, honey, for me it's ALWAYS Johnny Depp. Love that man. I never thought about who I would have play me if someone made a movie of my life ... I'll have to give that some thought. Thanks for sharing, Marian. BTW - loved If I Fail.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gerri. And I see you have good taste in men. :)
ReplyDelete