Progress Report

I am nearing completion of Lesbian Adventure Club Book 11. It feels like it is taking forever. (There are sneak-peek chapters over on the LAC characters’ blog.) The series has now exceeded 425,000 words.

The writing distractions of late have been many. I’ve been compelled to write scenes that pop into my head. They involve the current characters, but I am not sure where they will end up. It could be LAC 12, but at this point I’m not quite sure.

I’ve been toying with my fourth mystery—ideas mostly. I don’t have very much text to it yet, as I’ve been trying hard to stick with the task at hand, despite the characters trying to take me in a different direction, despite life doling out things that cannot be ignored.

Forward progress. S l o o o o w forward progress, but progress nonetheless.


Book Review of Third Mystery

The following is a book review of Corpse Call done by Rainbow Reviews. There is a link to it in the reviews menu to your right.

Homicide investigation is sufficiently difficult when the motives, opportunity, and means are obvious. In Detective Laura McCallister’s latest case, a husband and father missing only a few days is found drowned in his car, in the pond, at a city park. No clues at first, no reason for his death. Was it an accident, suicide, or worse? Soon McCallister, as she is known in the department, finds herself drenched in clues, too many to sort out clearly.

The victim was a devoted, loving husband and father, but the investigation soon uncovers an Internet horror blog titled “Corpse Call” which sports fiction from the corpse’s viewpoint. Or is it fiction? McCallister diligently follows the trail laid out by this mysterious killer, whose goal seems at first to taunt the police department, and soon seems deeper and more intent. What is the killer after, and why is he or she directing McCallister to victims killed seventeen years earlier?

Laura McCallister is a tough-talking, hardened homicide investigator, with a spin. A lesbian in a committed, long- term relationship, she is determined not to let her career overpower her home life. She and partner Holly strive to keep an enviable balance between relationship and work. Their friends Kate and Claudia also portray a similar situation, as Kate is a journalist with a very unusual past which comes to light as McCallister decides to elicit Kate’s assistance in the investigation. Ms. Wraight’s characters are well-developed and as likely as our own friends and family. She superbly unravels the multiple subplots and delivers each new clue in her mystery with a punch. Readers will delight in this newest Detective Laura McCallister mystery, and like this reviewer, will rush to find the earlier novels in the series. Corpse Call is a re-reader for mystery fans, aficionados of character novels, and readers of excellent lesbian fiction.

My Third Mystery Released

Corpse Call, the third Detective Laura McCallister mystery has been released in my publisher’s ebookstore, with Kindle and paperback on the way.

The Book/Info page (link to your right) will give you two sample chapters, but there are four+ chapters in the PDF here.

Blurb: The car at the bottom of Prentice Lake could not have gotten there accidentally. Max Wendt slumps dead in the front seat with neither a reason to kill himself nor enemies to do it for him. Miles away, Detective Laura McCallister imparts the news that transforms a wife into a heartbroken widow, a ten-year-old boy into a fatherless son. The most she can give them is a promise to learn the truth.

But the clues uncovered at the crime scene have little—if anything—to do with Max Wendt. Instead, they point to places far in the past. They point to a blog filled with horror fiction written from the corpse’s point of view. They point to a killer willing to risk capture for what seems nothing more than an arrogant game of cat and mouse. Or is it? What could a killer possibly want from a cop?

With no choice but to play along with the demented game, McCallister turns to cases before her time and technology she has thus far shunned. And all the while, the killer taunts her, pushes her buttons, nudges her to cross lines that were always starkly black and white. Desperate, she seeks help from unlikely sources: a reporter, a realtor, and the rowdy patrons of Ringers bar. But the further she delves, the less it all has to do with the pressing question: Who killed Max Wendt?