The Human Condition
First, I want to thank Houston for letting me knock her unconscious and allowing me to take over her page today. She’ll be awake with you soon.
Backstory is something you have to treat with delicate hands when writing a novel. You can’t flood a novel with backstory. That’s a huge faux pas for an author.
Each character has their own backstory, what’s shaped and molded them over time to the interesting and unique people they are today. When writing Thicker Than Water, I put a lot of time into each character and their backstory. Who or what caused Michelle Mott to decide to be a P.I.? How did Marty, an otherwise smart kid and straight A student to live on the streets and try to steal Michelle’s bag? Why is Daniel, this sexy tall Italian boy, so socially awkward one minute, then acting like a sex starved predator the next? And why on earth does Helen put up with them all and more importantly, decide to mother them all in her own unique way?
The dynamic between them is easy to define as you read the book… they become more than friends. They become family.
Enter Gino Salito, the local crime lord who has everyone quaking in their boots. Gino is handsome and charming but he has blood on his hands. Nothing is black and white where Gino Salito is concerned, it’s very gray and readers are finding that they love my mobster, despite his murderous past and less than legal ways.
With Michelle knocking on death’s door, the ties that bind are stretched in a manner that will leave you wondering if blood really is thicker than water.
Okay, I’m off to rouse Houston. Hopefully she’ll forgive the bump on the head.
Genre: Mystery, Suspense
Date of Publication: June 15, 2014
Number of pages: 214
Word Count: 59,332
Blood may be thicker than water, but family isn’t necessarily who you’re related to. In this suspenseful mystery with a romantic twist, we follow Private Investigator Michelle Mott on her most exciting case to date.
Wisecracking Mott has been a loner since her parents died. When Daniel Cardinale walks into her office with her most interesting case yet, his world threatens to turn hers upside down. He needs her to find out who is sending him anonymous money and what the truth is behind his dead fiancé’s demise. If his case weren’t complicating her life enough, local crime lord Gino Salito has taken an interest in Mott.
Mott’s empty life begins to fill up with an unexpected and rag-tag group of people, and she’s afraid her dangerous life will take them away, leaving her alone once again.
In truth, it’s Mott’s life that may be the one at risk. She’ll have to hope that blood isn’t always thicker than water.
I am about to die. I don’t mean in the Sylvia Plath-we’re-all going-to-die-sometime sort of way. In mere moments, the meathead behind the barrel of the handgun held to my temple will pull the trigger. The hammer will come down, igniting a tiny explosion that will send a lead ball tearing through my cranium. My brains, bones and blood will spray on the area beside me. I won’t even hear a click. I won’t feel a thing. Idiots. This is the least creative way to murder someone.
And the suicide note they had me write sounds nothing like me. No one is going to believe I committed suicide. If they watched one episode of one crime show they’d know I needed gun powder residue on my hands, not duct tape residue on my wrists. This has to be the worst faked suicide in history. That’s what you get when you hire steroid induced freaks with the IQ of a cannoli.
I should have known this would happen. Wrong guy in your bed, you get a little nosey and this is where you wind up. Cold barrel pressed against your temple by some guy who doesn’t even fully understand why his boss wants you expired. Nor does he care. He doesn’t even care that his boss is too much of a puss to pull the trigger himself.
I should be crying or begging for my life. But I’m not. I’m sitting here like a limestone statue: cold, calm…it’s sort of creepy, actually. Fear and panic should be knocking at my door. Instead an unexpected feeling of calm was all I had. Maybe I knew this was a possibility.
When she’s not writing, she’s probably cooking a meal for her rather large family. An assortment of children and pets keep her on her toes.
On the rare chance she and Mr. Mullican can pull away, you can find them on a quiet body of water, fishing poles in hand.
She’s a cross-genre writer offering, paranormal, mystery, suspense, thriller and more.
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