dontravis.com blog post #279
Last week, I told you I have started the sixth book in the BJ Vinson Mystery series. Today, I’d like you to take a look at the Prologue and let me know if it sparks any interest.
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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
THE VOXLIGHTNER SCANDAL
Prologue
Relaxing in the den of his comfortable home at 4818 Post Oak Drive NW, Pierce picked up a book from the lamp table beside his recliner and inspected it closely. His latest novel—his third—just delivered from his publisher in this morning’s mail. In a rare moment of brutal honesty, he admitted the most impressive thing on the cover was his name: John Pierce Belhaven. A good name for an author, it rolled off the tongue and lent gravitas to the trite title, Macabre Desserts. Although too egotistical to admit being a hack, in moments such as this, he silently acknowledged he was no James Lee Burke. Whenever he attempted some of the Louisiana writer’s soaring, poetic passages, they always ended up as muddied puddles of worthless ink that contributed nothing to the plot. What was Elmore Leonard’s rule number ten? Leave out the parts that nobody wanted to read.
His next book would be a game changer. Just as the others, it would be a mystery, but this time he’d solve a real puzzle. One that had plagued Albuquerque for a generation. One involving the theft of millions and the death of a respected attorney. A mystery that only he could solve. He stumbled on the crucial clue years ago in his capacity as a utility company executive but hadn’t understood its significance until he researched his new book. It was a work that would carry him from humdrum to bestseller. And the interview with Wilma Hardesty on KALB-TV that aired that very afternoon had put the world on notice he was reopening the moribund Voxlightner case
This would set them on their ears down at SouthWest Writers, make them sit up and take notice of him… not as a writer, but as an author. He quelled an urge to rush to his office on the other side of the house to assure himself the growing file of research on his desk was safe.
A noise from the front of the house brought him out of his chair. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. Ten-thirty-four. Who could that be at this time of night? Melanie? He shook his head. His daughter hadn’t indicated she was driving in from Grants where she lived with that odious husband of hers. Harrison wouldn’t deign to show up at his door, probably not even to pick up his inheritance, should Pierce decide to leave his estranged son one.
He smiled and then faltered. It wasn’t sweet Sarah. She was in Arizona visiting her family. His heartbeat quickened. It must be Spencer, although the lad didn’t usually show up on Wednesdays. Before walking to the garage door, he adjusted the book on the coffee table in such a way that Spence could hardly miss it. As he reached for the brass doorknob, he heard the gas-fired lawn mower roar to life.
What the hell? John Pierce Bellhaven opened the door and entered the darkened garage.
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In the words of my last three posts—the book has been inseminated and is now gestating. Please let me know if you find the prologue interesting.
In the meantime: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. And keep on submitting your work to publishers and agents. You have something to say… so say it.
If you feel like dropping me a line, my personal links follow:
Facebook: Don Travis
Twitter: @dontravis3
Here are some buy links to City of Rocks, my most recent book.
See you next week.
Don
New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.
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