I’m incredibly excited to announce that the second book in the Marty Singer crime fiction series, Blueblood, is available for all major e-readers and will be available in paperback within the week!
Four unrelated murders. Nothing special in Washington DC. Not even good enough to make the evening news. But then a concerned police lieutenant approaches retired homicide detective Marty Singer with a simple fact that changes everything.
They were all cops.
In a race to stop the killings, Marty tackles the case from the outside, chasing the killer from deadly Southeast DC to the heart of the Virginia gangland, on a mission to stop the spilling of yet more Blueblood.
Apple/iBooks, Barnes & Noble, and Sony will ship at the end of this week and should be available soon. Paperback copies are going through vetting at CreateSpace as you read this and should be available within just a few days.
A few years ago I attended the renowned Boucheron convention, a fan-based convention for mystery and crime fiction. UK comedian-turned-crime fiction-novelist Mark Billingham was one of the many panelists that I listened to that day, but he said something that stuck with me when the words of many other bright lights at the conference faded away. Something I’d never heard a mystery or crime fiction author talk about before.
I had the chance to attend indie publication Barrelhouse Magazine‘s spring “Crime” issue release party last night, where I got to hear cool authors read their work: Tara Laskowski reading “The Etiquette of Murder”, Art Taylor with his “Blue Plate Special”, and “How Sacrifices Are Made in Illionois” by Michelle Dove.
All are great reads that make you think; Tara’s piece reminded me of Armand “Blackbird” Degas from Elmore Leonard’s Killshot, while Art’s piece seemed a thoughtful blend of Chandler and James Crumley (of Last Good Kiss fame). I’m still rolling around Michelle’s piece in my head…it’s a densely-packed story with lots of sly humor tucked in here and there; easy to miss if you’re not paying attention.
It was nice to rub elbows with other writers and poets trying to make a professional go of it. If only the bartender hadn’t turned the music up to 10…I’d still be there chatting craft with some really smart people.
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