Mystery-minded

Life on a Small Island, a Continuing Story

A wealthy couple from Florida who apparently think they are moving to a wealthy enclave in Fort Lauderdale, West Palm Beach, or perhaps the Hamptons, have decided that they want to build an enormous glass and steel home in our little corner of paradise. Elbow Cay, with a year-round population of around 500, is noted for Hope Town harbour and its famous candy-striped lighthouse and a village of quaint, 19^th-century style Loyalist cottages. It is barely 6 miles long.  
Several months ago, residents on the island’s north end noticed bulldozers clearing brush on a “sea-to-sea” four-and-a-half acre tract. By the time the Town Council “noticed,” the entire tract had been stripped bare. The scar bisects the island; it’s so large I'm sure it can be seen from the moon.

As the Atlantic ocean winds began quickly to erode the naked dunes, the Council ordered the construction of a chain link fence. The fence, covered with green netting, borders the dirt road on both sides. It, too, is an eyesore.

Under cover of darkness, one frustrated local resident armed with a can of spray paint, expressed his opinion, using the words of an anonymous, early 20^th century poet:

"Let no one say, And say it to your shame, That all was beauty here before you came."

The fence on the opposite side of he lane received similar treatment:

"This is a crime against nature and the Bahamas."

[Behind the fence -- a close up view.]

When photographs of the graffiti went up on the Hope Town Community’s Facebook page, tempers flared. For every visiting botanist decrying the loss of hundreds of native plants from the mature site (meticulously cataloged by botanical name), there was a voice claiming that a man had a right to do whatever he wanted with his own land. And, how dare someone deface another man’s property! Didn’t they learn that in kindergarten?

Others speculated on the identity of the graffiti artist – it can’t be a local, someone claimed, because locals tell it like it is, and to your face, too. Besides, someone else mused, the person must be well-educated, because they wrote in poetry and had excellent penmanship.

But both sides used the same word to express their thoughts -- Vandalism!

I guess it depends upon your point of view.

My friend, Shelley Malone, says it best:

“Graffiti”

They tell me that rats have found new shelters on the North End

Their gray tails scattered as bulldozers descended on their homes

Lizards and soldier crabs tried to hide, but found no cover

They had no warning

The insects knew they were doomed when they heard the keening of

Gum-elemis taken by the root, painfully ripped out

Torn asunder and their history mulched

White crowned pigeons flew overhead searching for poison wood trees

Trees known by their families for years

Word spread through the leaf matter, deep with benign neglect

Creatures on the side of the Sea of Abaco were spared

They had a couple of days warning, a notice to vacate

One day, a chain linked fence and netting arrived

Forced by the Council

Sand blew from the unprotected and denuded dune

Someone wrote on the wall

“Let no one say, and say it to your shame, that all was beauty here before you came.”

The cry flew up “vandalism, vandalism!”

And nature laughed

Vandalism?

It is paint on a chained linked fence.

The earth sighed and responded “I am life.

I am lizards, trees, birds and rodents.

I am oxygen and nitrogen.  I am the balance you must have to live.

How dare you speak of vandalism!”

-- Shelley Malone, March 7, 2017.

[The view from "our" beach.]

My Favorite Things

by Marcia Talley

Last night I had to turn off the television and retreat to a quiet chair where I curled up with my knitting. Has the world gone totally mad? At one point, I was counting stitches and found myself humming …

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens …” from the Sound of Music. Maria sang this song to the children during a thunderstorm, you may recall, to help calm their fears.

“When the dog bites, when the bee stings,” the song continues, “When I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, And then I don't feel so bad.”

Fearful times.  

Favorite things.

Here are some of mine.

My little cottage in the Bahamas.

Walking on the beach in my bare feet.

Sailing to a quiet anchorage on Maryland's eastern shore.

 

Knitting.

Reading.

Chinese dumplings!

Hanging out with my grandchildren.

To name just a few.

Tonight I’m going out to dinner with friends and will probably drink a little too much wine. And then, like Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney in the classic movie White Christmas, I plan to “fall asleep, counting my blessings.”

In these wild and crazy times, what “favorite things” do you turn to?

Talley Family Year in Review 2013

Hello dear friends,

We began 2013 in Austin, Texas, where Marcia and I attended a classic house party in the grand tradition (several days in duration) hosted by my brother, Thomas Tracey and his gracious and indefatigable wife, Camille, featuring my other brother, Paul and his wife, Tracie; sister, Karen; their children; and those children’s friends.   New Year’s Eve was celebrated with fireworks and the 1812 overture blasting from industrial speakers from the balcony of Thomas’s garage situated on a high ridge overlooking Austin. There was much celebrating … w-a-y too much celebrating.

 

 

To recover from that glorious week, we drove (!!! having made a long road trip from Annapolis !!!) to Houston, stopping for the night at the home of former USNA student, Brian Weaver and his family, who had put together a small party of other former singers, and again, we celebrated long and hard.  To “recover” from that overindulgence, we then drove to New Orleans to spend a few days in the French Quarter in a little hotel just off Bourbon Street, visiting Marcia’s colleague, author Julie Smith and her husband, Lee Pryor, and visiting the World War Two museum … a must see!

After a pleasant, but cold and damp spell in the Big Easy, we drove on to West Palm Beach, Florida, where we left the car and flew to the Bahamas for the winter.  This should have been a good place to dry out, but in our twelve weeks there, we hosted ten weeks of guests, many of whom had visions of drinks with umbrellas, so that plan also failed.  

Among the many highlights were visits by our children, Sarah and Jon and family in January, Laura and Abby in March, Marcia’s sisters and a brother-in-law, and many old and dear friends.  I returned to Annapolis and faced a very stern lecture from my physician, and now I’m leading a much more sensible life.  (Well, most of the time.)

In April, the Peabody Conservatory of Johns Hopkins University saw fit to bestow upon me an alumni achievement award; a great honor.

In April and May, once again I was involved in a music festival spanning a series of weekends, and Marcia dashed around doing book events in New York and Washington and Pittsburg, and various other places while promoting the release of her twelfth Hannah Ives mystery, DARK PASSAGE, set on a cruise ship.

And the sailing season got underway!  This year, we stayed on the Chesapeake, but took Iolanthe on a number of short cruises to Baltimore, St Michaels, and the North Bay and did a lot of day sailing with friends and family.

June and July were devoted to hosting “Camp Grandma”, a series of weeks in which various grandchildren stayed with us while taking sailing lessons and doing other fascinating things, like train trips to New York to stay overnight and visit Mecca, i.e. The American Girl Doll store on 5^th Avenue.  

At the end of July, we hustled up to New Hampshire for a Dutton Girl reunion, featuring Marcia and her sisters, and their numerous children and grandchildren, included our own.  We rented two houses on Silver Lake near Harrisville, NH, the quintessential New England village.  One was right on the lake, the other on a hill nearby, all nestled in the foothills of Mount Monodnock.  We enjoyed a week of kayaking, fishing, hiking, swimming, and hanging out on the porch singing in the evening; it is, after all, a musical family, and this summer saw an alarming proliferation of guitars and ukeleles. 

August featured more sailing -- hot, no wind, but what’s new on the Chesapeake Bay in August? Marcia took her annual trip to England for the St Hilda’s Crime and Mystery weekend in Oxford, the Music Within the Liturgy Festival at Edington in Wiltshire, and visiting friends and her London publisher.  At the end of the month, I was once again in Chautauqua, NY, for a week leading a summer music camp for seniors with old colleague, Jeanne Kelly, founder and grand dame of Encore Creativity, the organization that promotes singing by older adults,  i.e. Geezers. 

In September, we were on the road again, this time to beautiful Newport, RI, for the wedding of Marcia’s sister Susan’s second daughter, Revka, on the beach. The weather cooperated beautifully, and the band at the reception, The Moldy Suitcases, was a real treat!

In October Marcia traveled to Albany, New York, for Bouchercon, the World Mystery Conference, followed immediately by a fast trip back to D.C. as one of the honored guests at the Smithsonian Institutions's Evening of Authors and Art. (Marcia is pictured here with Katherine Neville and Daniel Stashower.)   

This month, November, I was especially pleased when my USNA successor, Aaron Smith, asked me to help out with preparations for this year’s Messiah program.  Staying involved with the Academy is a joy, as is filling in from time to time for local area organists in various churches around town. 

At the end of the month, we flew to Hawaii for a couple of weeks with brother Thomas and Camille, who have a vacation villa on Kauai.  What a beautiful spot!

  


We hiked, swam, snorkeled, kayaked, and toured the island extensively, then spend an extraordinary few days in the home of one of my most distinguished former students, Admiral Sam Locklear, who is presently commander of U.S. Forces, Pacific.  All of them.  It is a very nice house, known informally as “The White House of the Pacific.”

We are back in town for just a week, then off to the Bahamas, this year earlier than ever before as we try to find the best rhythm for our declining years.  We’ll spend the first month in Hope Town on Elbow Cay, then return to our usual rental house, Tradewinds, on Dickies Cay, the tiny island that forms the Man O War Harbor.  Troubadour, our old and trusty Tartan 37, awaits, hanging on a mooring in the harbor at there.  We’ll finish out the year hosting Laura, David, and children for Thanksgiving in the islands, and Sarah and Jon and children for Christmas.  Marcia is wondering if she can get a frozen turkey past airport security. 

We’re all doing as well as can be expected.  Marcia had another cancer scare with a malignant thyroid that was removed last fall, and there was great rejoicing when the one year scan showed no trace of anything bad remaining. 

All the children, husbands, and their children are well; Ben Geyer is flourishing at Earlham, now in his Sophomore year, a recipient of a substantial scholarship given for being a superb student.  What a concept!  Jon Geyer is excelling academically, dramatically, and musically, involved in everything, and trying to decide where his focus is best placed.  All the rest are doing well in school, still too early to say how well, but their futures all look bright to me.  Laura continues to practice Law at Aiken Gump, David heads a division in the Office of the Historian at the State Department.  Son-in-law Jon Glass is practicing Dermatology at the Navy Hospital in Portsmouth, and has selected for Commander; Sarah is working at home, doing professional work for Sisters in Crime and putting her training as a Master Gardener to good use both at home and in the town of Chesapeake, VA, all the while bringing up three young children.  Our lives are enriched by a wonderful family and many warm friendships that we now have to time to enjoy. 

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, to all, and to all a good night!  -- Barry

It's here!

I'm happy to announce that Hannah Ives' twelfth adventure, DARK PASSAGE, has just been released in the U.K. Look for it later this summer in the U.S.

Just when you think it's safe to set sail on a cruise ship ...

Hannah takes a cruise, and unmasks a dangerous, 
seagoing predator.

 

Hannah, her sisters and fourteen-year-old niece Julie set sail from Baltimore on a bonding cruise, and have a dramatic first night when Pia Fanucci, a bubbly bartender magician’s assistant whom Hannah befriends, narrowly escapes injury during an on stage illusion. But while Pia may make light of the incident, it’s no laughing matter when Julie suddenly disappears. Has she gone overboard, or is she injured somewhere on the enormous ship?

To make matters worse, Hannah meets David Warren, a grieving father whose twenty-two-year-old daughter vanished without trace from an earlier cruise. With claims of a proper investigation proving to be an illusion so far, Hannah teams up with David and Pia in desperation. Can they see through the ship’s smoke and mirrors to reveal the identity of a dangerous sea-faring predator?

 

Severn House, 2013
ISBN: 978-0-7278-8278-3

 

Marcia and Barry Talley's Annual Year in Review: 2012

Hello, dear friends; here’s what we’ve been up to for the past twelve months.

The year began in the Bahamas, where we have been wintering since my retirement from the Naval Academy.  Our location there is Dickey’s Cay, a tiny island (population 1-2 dozen souls, depending on the season) that forms the harbor of Man-O-War Cay, a larger island (population 250-350).  Man-O-War (hereinafter “MOW”) has a small settlement with one restaurant, a marina, two boatyards, two groceries, a hardware store (where one can buy lobster), and a nice assortment of expert carpenters, boat builders and mechanics, good people to have close at hand when things break. 

Dickey’s Cay and MOW lie in a barrier reef, one of the longest in the world, that protects the larger islands of Great Abaco and Little Abaco and encloses the Sea of Abaco (that’s the water between the reef and the big islands), about 4 miles wide, and forms a great sailing area that’s protected from the open Atlantic that lies outside the reef.  On Dickey’s Cay we inhabit a small family compound that we share with the wonderful British couple who own the property.  Generally when they’re in residence, we’re not, and vice versa; they use Troubadour, our boat, when we’re away, a boat and house swap that has worked well for us.  The property has its own dock on the MOW harbor, and Troubadour lives there or on a mooring in the southern harbor when the wind blows hard.  There are three dwellings, a main house on the harbor, a guest house on stilts that hangs literally over the Sea of Abaco, and a smaller bunk house that’s good for grandchildren. 

In addition to Troubadour, our 37’ sailboat, there are 4 small craft that we use to get to MOW for groceries, or just to fool around on the water.  These include a 12’ Boston Whaler that’s our family "car," plus a rowboat, a kayak, and Troubadour’s dinghy. 

We hosted Christmas in the islands with daughters Laura and Sarah and their husbands and children, the next door neighbor loaned us one of her guest houses to accommodate the overflow, and Marcia and I stayed on Troubadour, giving the houses over to family.  We visited Marsh Harbor, the capital of the Abacos (1 traffic light), Hopetown on Elbow Cay and Nippers at Guana Cay.  Ate, drank, swam, snorkeled, fished, sailed, hiked, all the usual good stuff, including an amazing all-day tour of the Blue Holes of Abaco with Underground Bahamas which included visiting a bat cave and the nesting grounds of the Abaco parrots, and swimming in several blue holes.  

 

 

After the family had departed, I took a short break to travel to Florida and conduct the Florida All-State Men’s Chorus.  That was fun and exhausting with 9 hour rehearsal days.  We remained in Florida for a week, again visiting old friends, then returned to the Bahamas for a three week cruise on Troubadour.  This idyllic time was interrupted by the death of Marcia’s brother in law.  Marcia flew back to Rhode Island for the funeral, leaving me on Troubadour at Green Turtle Cay, where we had been docked for a short spell while our landlords at Tradewinds were in residence.  Upon the departure of the owners, we returned to Tradewinds, hosted a succession of guests, and we remained in the islands until the end of March.

Upon return to our home grounds, Marcia plunged into the writing business while I ran the usual spring music festival in Annapolis and put together an evening of Gilbert and Sullivan as a fund raiser for Laura and David’s choir at St Alban’s Church on the grounds of the National Cathedral.  We commissioned Iolanthe for spring sailing on the Bay, and took a series of short Bay cruises, including one longer cruise to visit Sarah and her family in Chesapeake, VA, where Jon, Sarah’s husband, is a doctor stationed at Portsmouth Naval Hospital.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcia and her three living sisters thought that they were getting together too often only when someone dear died, and so the four of them took a sisterly-bonding cruise from Baltimore to Bermuda and back.  I sailed out in Iolanthe to wave them goodby as the ship passed under the Chesapeake Bay Bridge headed for the ocean.  Marcia claims this cruise was for purposes of research for her next novel and, as such, is tax deductible.  Look for Dark Passage -- Marcia's 12th Hannah Ives mystery -- in the summer of 2013.  Her 11th, The Last Refuge, was published in hardback and tradepaper in May and is now available -- as are all her earlier titles -- as an ebook. 

I have become involved with Annapolis Opera, a professional company that puts on outstanding productions, directed by a friend and Peabody classmate from long ago and that activity eats up more time and effort than I had anticipated, but that’s often the way volunteer work develops.  I continue to fill in as a substitute organist at a couple of local churches, and that makes me keep up some minimum level of organ technique.  A good thing. 

During the summer months, we hosted Camp Grandma, and spent several weeks with various combinations of grandchildren.  Thomas and Joseph, Sarah’s children, were in town to take sailing lessons at the Eastport YC and Annapolis Sailing School; Laura’s children, Jon and Abigail, stayed with us while their parents were in England for a choir tour accompanied by their oldest son Benjamin, who had recently graduated from high school.  

 

Other highlights included attending the beautiful, Connecticut wedding of Marcia's niece, Ava -- and the bat mitzvah of grandniece, Elizabeth, in Rhode Island. 

 

In August, Marcia made her annual trip to England to speak on "Humor in Crime Fiction: or, What's So Funny About Murder" at the annual St Hilda’s Crime and Mystery Weekend in Oxford.  She attended the Edington Festival of Music Within the Liturgy in Wiltshire, and visited numerous friends.  While Marcia was frolicking  across the Atlantic, I was conducting, at Chautauqua, the annual week of geezer music under the auspices of Encore Creativity, an arts program for older adults.  This year we combined dance, theater, and chorus, and the week was covered by an embedded Washington Post reporter.  Very cool!  When you think you’re old enough, you should sign up and come and sing with me. 

There were some medical issues this year, and Marcia had her thyroid removed.  This event was celebrated by a long weekend trip to Bethany Beach with the whole extended family, less one grandchild, Benjamin, who had just departed for Earlham College.  Can’t believe it.  Marcia’s thyroid turned out to be malignant, and that was too bad, but her doctors told her that it was a very treatable form of cancer, and that treatment involved taking radioactive iodine.  Thyroid tissue craves iodine, so giving a radioactive form of iodine is intended to kill off any remaining bits of the gland.  This treatment, while effective, is not fun, as it requires a miserable diet for a couple of weeks, then isolation from all forms of life, including me.  I moved in with Aaron Smith, my successor at the Naval Academy, and his wife, Amy, while Marcia was "too hot to handle," and we made good use of that time. 

But before the diet and subsequent radiation, we took another great family road trip, driving to Disney World in November for a week with Sarah and Jon, their three children, and Jon’s father who flew in from Dallas.  Marcia and I drove, taking our time (this is one of the real joys of retirement, the time thing) again to visit with friends in Hilton Head on the way down and Pinehurst and Raleigh on the way back.  The Disney trip was wonderful; because Jon is active duty Navy, Disney offers a substantial discount, and that break made the concierge level of the Contemporary Hotel (almost!) affordable.  If you have young children, and Sarah has a couple of pre-schoolers, plus a third grader, being on the Disney property on the monorail line is a great benefit, since when anyone gets tired, and that includes us, you can quickly and easily retreat to the hotel for a quick nap.  That concierge level offers complementary food and drink, including alcohol, pretty much anytime.  This is both fun and dangerous. 

Returning from Disney, Marcia, who is usually sunny and pleasant, turned into a real grouch because of the draconian diet and radiation and the need to meet her publisher’s deadline to turn in her novel before Christmas, which she did.  The casualties, however, included Christmas cards, and we hope to get them mailed soon, probably as we spend the next two weeks driving to Austin, Texas for New Year’s with my Texas family, and then to Florida, interrupting the trip with stops again to visit old friends before departing for another winter in the Bahamas.

We continue to enjoy a very active retirement, combining music, sailing, writing and travelling, ever thankful for a loving family that is close at hand, and sufficient health to enjoy the opportunities that have come our way. 

We have come to enjoy, most of all, the companionship of good friends, often in beautiful places like the Bahamas, or sailing the Chesapeake; if you’re coming our way, and are reading this, do give us a call so that we can spend some time together. 

Hanukkah and Christmas have passed and we hope they were joyous, but Happy New Year, (or years, if you’re following the Mayan calendar). 

 Barry

 

 

Holiday Greetings from Barry and Marcia

Merry Christmas to all.  We’re back in the Bahamas already this year, our lives governed by wind, tide, and temperature.  We spent half of 2011 here on the Sea of Abaco, with Troubadour on the dock, and a parade of friends joining us for a bit of paradise. 

We began the year in the Bahamas, and spent a month in a spectacular rental property overlooking the Atlantic on Elbow Cay, were we entertained my brother, Thomas and his wife Camille, raced Troubadour, made new friends and had a generally good time.  We then returned to Tradewinds, our usual idyllic spot on Dickies Cay, the tiny island that protects Man O War harbor. 

Thence to Annapolis for a time in April to do taxes, run a music festival, and where I served as interim organist at Calvary Methodist Church on Rowe Boulevard.  We returned to the Bahamas for May and June, then back to Annapolis to get acquainted with our new boat, Iolanthe.  Marcia continued her active career as a writer and lecturer—her tenth novel, A Quiet Death, appeared in August--and worked hard on her new book, The Last Refuge, where her protagonist, Hannah Ives, joins the cast of a historical reality show living in Annapolis’s historic Paca House as if it were 1774. (See earlier blog posting for details.)

The summer was spent getting acquainted with our new Chesapeake cruiser, learning the boat’s systems, and addressing the issues that always accompany the purchase of a new boat.  We cruised St Michael’s and the Wye River with several sets of longtime friends but generally stayed close to home.

In early August we spent a week with Marcia’s sisters and their families at a sprawling manse on a lake near Mount Monadnock, NH.  (Dutton Girls rule!—M.T.)  Later in the month, Marcia flew to England for the annual St Hilda’s crime writers’ conference at Oxford, and I travelled to Chautauqua for a week of music-making with older singers at the historic center for arts and letters. 

I survived my 50^th high school reunion in Princeton, KY and actually had a good time.  Marcia and I stayed at a lovely state park, Barkley Lodge, a magnificent design by Edward Durrell Stone.  How did Kentucky come to have such a prominent architect designing state parks?  Stone had married Alban Barkley’s daughter, and it was an inside job.  If you ever travel through Western Kentucky, this is worth a stop.  Who was Alban Barkley?  That’s why we have Wikipedia.  Google it up. 

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving in Annapolis with all the children and grandchildren.  Marcia and I gave them the house and we stayed on the boat.  This is really our favorite thing; enjoying family, making music together and eating too much.  This leads to the reason we’re already in the islands—all the children are coming to visit here for Christmas and we can’t wait! 

Keep in touch, and come visit if you can!!

Barry and Marcia 

 

Coming March 1, 2012! The Last Refuge

Excited to tell you about the release date of Hannah's 11th adventure, The Last Refuge, set entirely at the William Paca House in Annapolis!

Has Hannah Ives made the right decision joining the cast of Patriot House, 1774, a reality show recreating eighteen-century colonial life? There’s no electricity, no running water, and the cast are at the mercy of the show’s ‘Founding Father.’ Even more worrying, Amy Cornell, Hannah’s lady’s maid on set, receives a text message from Drew, her Navy SEAL husband presumed dead after a botched mission ten months ago.

But while Amy dismisses it as a hoax, she hasn’t bargained on Drew turning up at Patriot House, carefully avoiding the cameras and scaring Hannah to death. He has a sinister plan – and he’s not going anywhere without Amy. When dancing master Alex Mueller, Amy’s new flame, is discovered dead, Hannah must think quickly if she is to trap a dangerous killer determined not to let anything, or anyone, stand in his way.

Stay tuned!

 

Hannah tells all!

“When I got cancer, I decided I wasn’t going to put up with crap from anybody anymore.” That’s how Marcia Talley introduces me at the beginning of SING IT TO HER BONES. She’s a cancer survivor, too, you know.

Talley first dressed me up in corsets and hoop skirts and hoped I’d behave as the central character in one of those serious, sprawling, southern, learning-how-to-deal-with-it novels.  Fat chance.  She dragged me by my petticoats to the Sewanee Writers’ Conference where her mentor, John Casey told her –“When I read the first chapter, I knew I was in the hands of a born story-teller, but [dramatic pause] the rest of the novel is crap.”

Jeesh! I’d been trying to tell her that. I’d read Nancy Drew as a kid, the Hardy Boys, too.  What I wanted to do was solve mysteries. It took a while before Talley was able to trust me, especially after I drove her car into a pond in SING IT TO HER BONES, but ten books later she lets me do all those things she’d never have the guts to do like picking locks, driving too fast, and spying on people. 

I didn’t go looking for adventure at first.  I was hanging out at my sister-in-law’s farm south of Annapolis, Maryland, waiting for my hair to grow out after chemotherapy. I took Connie’s dog for a walk, and when he started poking around an old well, my hat fell in. Tried to fish the darn thing out with a stick – couldn’t go home practically bald, could I? – and, yikes! Turned up a body, instead, that of a sixteen year old girl who’d been missing for years. When my daughter, Emily, was about the same age, she was quite a handful – trailing along after a rock group called Phish, dating losers.  I’d been able to salvage the relationship with my daughter – who now runs Spa Paradiso with her husband, Dante, and gave me three beautiful (and talented!) grandchildren.  But the Dunbars will never get that chance.  The look on the faces at the funeral tore at my heart, and I decided right then that I’d try to find out who was responsible for their daughter’s death.  

My husband, Paul, says I’m too wrapped up in other people’s problems, that it makes him crazy when I put myself in harm’s way like that. 

Guilty!

In THROUGH THE DARKNESS I organized a Go Navy/Beat Cancer team and ran the Komen Race for the Cure with Valerie, a friend who had sold her life insurance policy to a third party investor – a creepy practice called a viatical settlement – when she thought she was dying.  Then Valerie went through an experimental protocol at NIH and was cured, which didn’t make the investor particularly happy when she didn’t have the good manners to die on schedule.  Before that little adventure was over, I’d managed to get myself and my elderly friend, Naddie Bromley, locked up in a posh wine cellar by a couple of thugs.

It’s not my fault that my life is a continuing soap opera.  Honest.  Every time I turn around, I bump into somebody who really needs to die. Having a mystery writer in the family is a big advantage there.  In her novels and short stories Talley’s bumped off my husband, former bosses, miscellaneous relatives-in-law, and the woman who married my father after my mother died.  Cheaper than a therapist, right? And twice as satisfying.

I was recently returning from a charity luncheon in Washington, DC, when  -- Oh.  My.  God.  there was a horrific crash. Broke my arm, but managed to stay by the side of my injured seatmate, reassuring the guy until emergency workers freed him from the twisted wreckage.

Eventually they discharged me from the hospital with my ‘belongings,’ including a distinctive shopping bag I last saw in the hands of that poor stranger on the train. When I looked inside, I found letters and photos that documented a decades-long love affair between Lilith, a free-spirited young artist and her married lover, Zan. The young woman – smiling out of the photos at me with bright, intelligent eyes and looking so much like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday, fascinated me.

I had to reunite the bag with its owner!  The guy on the train had probably died from his injuries; besides, I didn’t even know his name. When I tried to track him down, it started to get messy, fast.  Before I knew it, everyone seemed to be trying to lay their hands on Lilith and Zan’s letters.  A QUIET DEATH eventually led me to a tiny cottage on Maryland’s eastern shore where I learned what a fine line there is between love and hate, forgiveness and betrayal, and how easy it is to cross over that line to murder.

So, what am I doing now?  I’m taking a breather, having been tapped to participate in a reality show called Patriot House set in an historic home in colonial Annapolis.  What a hoot!  We’re all living as if it were 1774, and the costumes are to die for!  It’s the perfect setting for a murder, don’t you think?  The classic closed circle – like the English country house -- but with video cams running practically 24/7.  Talley’s not finished writing it yet, so if you have any candidates who deserve death by some delightfully devious 18^th century method, please let me know.  I’ll pass the word.

Her rates are reasonable!  [grin]

Originally published June 6, 2011 at www.killercharacters.com

Tweet: @marciatalleybks

Books and short stories on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/4xwmr2n

Books and short stories on Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/marcia-talley?store=ebook

 

 

With a Little Help from My Friends ...

You'd think after masterminding two serial novels myself (NAKED CAME THE PHOENIX and I'D KILL FOR THAT) that I might run, kicking and screaming, from another such effort, but when Andrew Gulli, editor of the Strand Magazine, asked me to write a chapter for an effort he was putting together to raise money to fight leukemia, I couldn't say no.  

NO REST FOR THE DEAD debuted yesterday -- twenty-six authors! one novel! -- and on Friday, July 8, there'll be a big launch party at the Center for Fiction in New York City. Do stop by and meet me and some of the contributors.  Wine! Cheese! and all for a good cause.

 

A Quiet Death

I'm delighted to announce that book ten in the Hannah Ives mystery series, A Quiet Death, which came out in the UK at the end of April, has now begun shipping in the US!  Hannah is returning from a charity luncheon in Washington, DC, when her train is involved in a horrific crash. Although injured, Hannah remains at the side of her seatmate, reassuring the critically injured man until emergency workers free him from the twisted wreckage.

Nursing a broken arm, Hannah is discharged from the hospital with her ‘belongings,’ including a distinctive shopping bag she last saw in the hands of the stranger on the train. Inside, she finds letters and photos that document a decades-long love affair between Lilith, a free-spirited young artist and her married lover, Zan.

A wily imposter, a bullying attorney, a seedy PI – everyone wants to lay hands on Lilith and Zan’s letters. Hannah’s attempt to reunite the bag with its owner unwittingly sets in motion a chain of events that could put her own life in danger. Unintimidated, her search gradually narrows to a remote cottage on Maryland’s eastern shore, where Hannah discovers how fine a line there is between love and hate, forgiveness and betrayal, and how easy it is to cross over that line to murder. 

A Quiet Death – Severn House, 2001, ISBN: 978-0727880413 

Autographed copies can be ordered from a fine Independent Bookstore near you, like my good friends at Mystery Loves Company, Mystery Lovers Bookshop, or The Poisoned Pen. You can also order copies from Barnes & Noble or from You Know Who.  A QUIET DEATH is a first-edition hardcover, so you'll be doing a kind deed for me—and a lot of other people—if you request that your local library order a copy for their mystery collections. 

For more information and a complete schedule of events, please visit my website. I also hang around on Facebook -- please be my friend! -- and I Twitter (or is it Tweet?) from time to time @MarciaTalleyBks.