Scoville
The Scoville novellas were not all written at the same time. Far from it.When my editor at Holland House Books asked if I had any fiction for his mystery imprint, Grey Cells Press, I said, “Not really. Just a little booklet I wrote years ago.  I’m really a literary novelist, you know.”“Send me a copy, anyway,” he said.“Three Blind Mice” was written so long ago that I had to manually transfer the original Selectric typewritten version onto my hard drive.“If you write two more novellas with the same characters and setting,” he said, “we’d have a book.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” I said.  “It’s been years since I’ve lived in Oregon.”

“Try,” he said.

So I closed my eyes and tried to remember the ocean, the foghorn, the seagulls. Most of all I tried to reestablish my relationships with Detective Scoville and Humboldt Denton. Maggie Denton, too, of course.

It was not difficult.  They’re still alive for me.

COMING JUNE 2, 2014

Read an excerpt from each novella.

absentwoman-e1380854322151The Absent Woman
I wrote this novel when I was, like Virginia Johnstone, living in a small fishing village in the Pacific Northwest.  And like Virginia, I had turned my world upside-down and was very busy setting it to rights. My characters often disturb their comfortable worlds.

Read an excerpt from the novel.

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cover-kindle-format-e1380855083184Rebecca’s Road
These Rebecca stories follow a road trip I once took. In a sense, Rebecca was my companion. I use the same locations, though many of the details are pure fiction. She came to gradual life after I reported a trial in which the defense attorney, an aging woman (like Rebecca, fifty, red-headed, ungainly, easily rattled) was overpowered by a slick young attorney who I thought was representing a dishonest client.Watching the trial, my sympathy was aroused. The red-headed attorney had trapped herself in a prison of immaturities. Gradually she became Rebecca Quint. Her fictional life, it turns out, touches on some of the ways in which I, too, had trapped myself. When you read my fiction, you are hearing the key turn in the lock.

Read an excerpt from the short story “Bargain.”

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