Creatures of habit

This month, I’ve been posting images of Southwest Florida that inspired many of the scenes in Curb Appeal, the third installment in the CW McCoy series of romantic suspense novels. If you would like to see the collection in one place, head over to Flickr for a global view of the scenes and people who inhabit CW’s world.

And speaking of characters. . . . While locations along the Gulf Coast weave their way into the novel, animals play an equally important role. Witness this trio, some of whom make regular appearances at Myakka River State Park as well as the Sarasota Farmers’ Market.

 

Captain Louie, Walter’s black lab who lives aboard the ‘Mary Beth’ in #curbappeal

 

I once was lost but now I’m found: Sugar Bear returns in #curbappeal

 

Alligators outnumber people in some areas of Myakka River State Park. Just ask CW in #curbappeal

Playing it safe

The National Association of Realtors has been at the forefront of promoting agent safety. The organization’s Realtor Safety Program website offers several resources for agents as well as background on why a personal safety plan is important. It also provides a context for buyers and sellers who may see some of these precautions as inconvenient or unnecessary.

One of the most accessible tools on the site is the video “Real Estate, Safety, and You,” through which consumers can learn about the safety protocols they may encounter when working with an agent.

(In Curb Appeal, fictional real estate agent CW McCoy breaks it down into the Three C’s: set the initial client meeting in the office, copy their drivers’ licenses and, when showing the property, never get cornered.)

 

 

 

‘There are places I remember’

What are the places in Southwest Florida that inspired Curb Appeal, the third book in the mystery/suspense series featuring CW (Candace) McCoy, the former detective applying her investigative skills as a real estate agent? To paraphrase John Lennon, here are a few of the places I remember, including one many residents hope they’ll never see: the inside of the Sarasota Police Department.

 

Model of the house where CW McCoy finds first murder victim in #curbappeal

 

One of the many condo buildings gracing the skyline of Sarasota, FL #curbappeal

 

 

Sarasota police officers demonstrate vascular hold that Skip Taggert tries on CW #curbappeal

 

 

The Power of Place

How many times have you read a novel and fallen in love with the location? (Fans of Ellis Peters and Nevada Barr, raise your hands.)

CW McCoy’s Spanish Point holds the same allure for those of us who, like CW, fled the darkness of the North for Florida’s Gulf Coast. The result is Spanish Point, a fictionalized mashup of the cities of Sarasota and Bradenton that isn’t the paradise it first seems.

Over the few weeks, we’ll look at the places in the region that inspired Curb Appeal, the third book in the mystery/suspense series featuring CW (Candace) McCoy, the former police detective turned real estate agent whose struggles with career and personal issues lead her into dangerous terrain.

While Curb Appeal is fiction, it’s the tragic attacks on real estate agents that form the backbone of the book—that and efforts by the National Association of Realtors to promote awareness and safety.

Each day on social media, we’ll take a look at the homes, boats and watering holes of CW’s friends and enemies as we reconcile the images of paradise with reality. I hope you’ll join us for a guided tour. In the meantime, here are a few deceptively ordinary images from the Gulf Coast.

On the Gulf of Mexico near Siesta Key: sailing the high seas near sunset on a day that’s divine—until you turn your back.

 

Lakewood Ranch luxury: remember the movie “Play ‘Misty’ for Me”? You may never go near a soaking tub again.

 

Myakka River State Park: the mysterious woods (and the alligators of Deep Hole) beckon the unsuspecting.

 

Dark side of the sun

Curb Appeal, the third novel in the CW McCoy series about a detective turned real estate agent, may be fiction but it has its foundation in reality. And while the book isn’t based on a specific crime, it was spurred by a dangerous trend in a seemingly benign industry.

According to the National Association of Realtors (NAR), nearly 40 percent of Realtors report that they have experienced a work-related situation that made them fear for their safety. In 2013, 25 real estate professionals were the victims of homicide, according to the latest figures from the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Crime against agents is not a new phenomenon. In the decade between 2003 and 2012, the bureau reported an average of 17 real estate homicides per year. It is, however, one that continues to threaten the industry. In the final weeks of 2016, two real estate agents were shot and killed while showing homes in Georgia and Texas, according to the NAR.

Set in a fictional city on Florida’s Gulf Coast, Curb Appeal opens with CW (Candace) McCoy discovering the naked body of a rival real estate agent, a black bra wrapped around her neck. It’s the least of CW’s problems. The hot new cop she’s dating may face assault charges. Relations with both her best friend and mentor have frayed. And back-to-back hurricanes threaten to flatten a city groaning under the weight of over-development.

As the deception and bodies mount, CW must uncover the truth about her friends, her lover and a serial killer bent on murdering fellow agents . . . before she becomes a victim herself.

Curb Appeal is the third outing with CW, after Peak Season and Tourist in Paradise. The novel is available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes and Kobo, as well as bookstores everywhere.

Out with the in crowd

For CW McCoy, appearance aren’t just deceptive. They’re deadly. Which is why the former detective turned real estate agent can trust no one, including herself, in Curb Appeal, her third adventure exploring the dark side of the Sunshine State.

While showing a mansion on tony Spanish Key, CW discovers the naked body of a rival real estate agent, a black bra wrapped around her neck.

It’s the least of CW’s problems. The hot new cop she’s dating may face assault charges. Relations with both her best friend and mentor have frayed. And back-to-back hurricanes threaten to flatten the coast.

As the deception and bodies mount, CW must uncover the truth about her friends, her lover and a serial killer bent on murdering fellow agents . . . before she becomes a victim herself.

Curb Appeal will be published on June 7 but you can preorder the e-book version through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes and Kobo.

 

In the News

I’m pleased that Erika Liodice included me in her latest post “Why Do Some Writers Choose to Go ‘Indie’?” on the Writers Unboxed site.

As Erika writes, “For me, independent publishing felt like a natural next step in my career. But what about other indie authors? I reached out to a handful and asked them how their publishing journeys came to be. Not surprisingly, they were happy to share their stories.”

Here’s what she learned.

writer-unboxed

Back to the Future

Working on Curb Appeal, the third novel in the CW McCoy series (after Peak Season and Tourist in Paradise), I realize that I write backwards.

In school, we learned to organize our material using an outline. I’ve adopted that technique to sort large amounts of material when writing nonfiction. The tool came in handy when I worked for Mack Trucks and had to find a lead buried in hours of interviews. I used a highlighter and flagged passages that were important to the telling of the story, writing subheads for those highlights and prioritizing them so they flowed in a logical way.

curb-appeal-summary-editsDigging out the nuggets from a pile of information seemed a more organic process than writing an outline. The process allowed the structure of the piece to grow from the material, the research and interviews from primary sources. But when it comes to fiction, I seem unable to follow that scholarly advice.

I write backwards.

Yes, I have a solid idea of the nature of the characters and the arc of the story, but I don’t know the exact scope and sequence of the work. I discover that as I write.

And then I write the outline. In fiction, it’s called a synopsis, a summary that’s written with the same flavor as the novel. It’s longer than a logline and shorter than a chapter-by-chapter description of character and action. But, like a GPS device, it can keep me on track.

Do you write forward or backwards?

Behind the scenes

Location plays a vital part in any novel, especially novels of mystery and suspense. I’ve written about place as character several times but now, thanks to author and blogger Lorna Holland of Northamptonshire UK, my musings on crime scenes in sunny Florida have made it to the other side of the pond.

The marina in Sarasota, Florida provided the inspiration for the CW McCoy novels

The marina in Sarasota, Florida provided the inspiration for the CW McCoy novels

 

The Candidate

As an antidote to the election season, I’d like to share an excerpt from my new suspense/thriller, Mr. Magic. You can read the full-tilt lunacy of the role public relations plays in elections and other marketing campaigns at Amazon, iTunes, Barnes & Noble and Kobo, as well as bookstores everywhere.

Be sure to sign up for the Beyond the Book newsletter, at the bottom of this website’s homepage.

And now, Brinker, the defrocked journalist turned PR whiz, will demonstrate how sausage is made:

On a blustery day in early April, Mary Margaret Paulson stood in an open hanger with the snow swirling like dust devils and gazed at the adoring masses. She looked every bit the presidential candidate. Perfect cheekbones, glossy red lips and a bushel of rich brown hair. Long legs in a black pencil skirt, lacy blouse and a red power jacket with shoulders big enough to carry half the states to the nominating convention.

On the campaign trail she’d been called Chillbilly and Bible Spice for her passionate if uninformed defense of religious freedom. The media mocked her. The pundits hated her. But Brinker knew one thing that many had forgotten: the woman oozed sex from every pore, and men and women alike would sacrifice their firstborn to share the air with her.

The scene resembled a campaign rally. An American flag hung behind two corporate jets emblazoned with the cement company’s logo. Paulson stood on a wooden A-Treat box behind a lectern decorated with patriotic bunting and waved like the queen on parade. A crowd of at least a thousand swelled around her, a line of police officers in reflective vests keeping protesters and supporters on opposite sides of the concrete apron. Sitting in rows of folding chairs under space heaters were local and state dignitaries, representatives from the governor’s office, county council members and the mayors of every city within a fifty-mile radius. The rest of the rabble stood in the cold, their hats declaring allegiance to Garth Brooks, the Phillies and the NRA.

palin-legs-from-backBrinker focused on Paulson’s speech. In an effort to cut costs, the cement company wanted to burn hazardous waste. Residents weren’t convinced by the company’s health studies, which showed emissions would remain below EPA thresholds. His position paper had dealt with the need to balance environmental protection with economic growth. He’d reduced it to three bullet points. Paulson hadn’t gotten through the first when she veered off-message like a bike that had lost its training wheels. She ranted about liberals and intellectuals, the elite and the effete, people who were ruining the country with their bleeding hearts and costly regulations, stifling growth and free enterprise and everything that made America great.

The crowd cheered and Brinker, the PR whiz who’d turned a serial killer into a national brand, started to worry that the stunt wouldn’t backfire, that it wouldn’t create the chaos that guaranteed national coverage. Then, from across the tarmac, he heard the sound of grinding gears and smelled the belch of diesel exhaust as an ancient blue school bus tottered around the corner of the hanger and four dozen Korean woman dressed in hot pink jumpsuits piled out, Buddha at the fore, the notes of Psy’s “Gangnam Style” throbbing from a speaker on the roof.

Buddha, AKA Benjamin Kwon, community organizer and ace travel agent who helped the pursued disappear from the grid. Handing signs to the women—he’d economized by printing both sides, “Feel the Burn” on the front and, on the back, “Burn, Baby, Burn”—he marched the women through the crowd, the Koreans forming a wall between supporters and protesters. As they twirled their signs and waved to the camera, Buddha broke away and headed for the perimeter.

Brinker sidled up to him. “How’s it going?”

“’Oppa oppa Gangnam style.’”

“You should run for office.”

Realizing that reinforcements had arrived, Paulson pointed at the ground with a sharply manicured finger and shouted, “This is it! Right here in little old Allentown, PA! The front lines of the battle, the home of concrete and steel that made this nation great!”

The crowd surged, one half cheering, the other half waving signs mounted on wooden stakes the size of baseball bats. Brinker could smell the blood lust as it raced through them, flaring nostrils, pumping muscles, raking their skin until they began to howl.

The handlers must have felt the massive animal coiling for a strike because two of them flanked the lectern as Paulson finished her speech with the pump of a fist and the cry of “Burn, baby, burn!”

The audience exploded, the police line collapsed. Protesters wielded their signs like clubs. Politicians ducked behind the flag. The cement company’s security force, standing respectfully at attention during the remarks, formed a firewall while the handlers hustled Paulson through the back of the hanger.

As police rushed in with batons, Buddha pulled Brinker to the sidelines. Above the roar of sirens, he said, “We have failed you, my friend.”

Brinker smiled as video crews captured the melee. “It’s all good.”