Hello, J.Q.,It's so great to have you on my blog today.
You have a new book to tell us about, and I'm very excited to read this one.
But first, settle back on the tiltback chair, have a cup of tea with me, and tell us where you get your story ideas. Hello Lorrie. Thanks so much for hosting me today on my second stop on the virtual book tour for my mystery/sweet romance, Coda to Murder, just released by MuseItUp Publishing last Friday.
While waiting in the emergency room last week with
my husband, I was amazed at the diverse people who sat or mulled around the
room. I could see their exchanges with each other…laughing, arguing, or even
just remaining quiet. That sent me off into making up a story about each
one…perhaps a homeless man, a lady of the evening, a rich guy, a kind-looking
old woman who was cheating on her husband of forty years?
In Sunshine Boulevard, the very real problem of the animal’s natural habitat disappearing to become malls and housing projects was very important to the story. In Coda to Murder Pastor Christine finds herself in the middle of a murder investigation, not something typically included in a pastor’s studies in seminary. But that is not the only unusual circumstance she faces as the spiritual leader at Dayspring Church. The one in the following excerpt from the book was drawn from a news story in the Tampa Tribune. This incident is a turning point in Christine’s life, but I can’t tell you why or how because it will ruin the ending for you!!
EXCERPT from Coda to Murder:
She welcomed the knock on her office
door to get her mind off of Cole. “Come in.”
The door opened only halfway revealing
a stocky man dressed in jeans and red plaid flannel shirt. He peeked around the
edge of the door. “Hi, Pastor. I hate to interrupt you. Do you have a minute?”
“Oh, come on in, Jackson.” He ambled
into the office. She stood up and offered her hand to greet him. After a firm
handshake, he remained standing in front of the desk nervously twirling his
baseball cap in his fingers. Christine tried to recall how she met Jackson. Oh
yes, he was the kind man who helped her unload donations to the community yard
sale last spring.
“Thank you for lettin’ me stop in. I
have some folks I’d like you to meet. They’re havin’ some hard times. Can you
talk to them? They’re out in my van waitin’.”
Christine glanced out her window at
Jackson’s dusty navy blue van. Rust spidered its way around the bottom of the
vehicle and outlined the doors. She imagined the van had seen a lot of miles
and a lot of hunting trips.
“Well, what’s happened to these folks
that you need to help them out?” She motioned to him to take a seat as she
returned to her chair.
Jackson eased his round body into the
chair across from her desk. “Well, ya’ see, I met these folks in the campground
out there on White Lake, a few miles west of here. There’s a great fishin’ hole
and this and that. Anyways, we were camped there, never knew them from Adam
till we met a week ago. He’s a fisherman, too.”
She nodded, listening intently, wishing
he could get to the point of the story.
“Well, this mornin’, ya’see, something
popped in their motor home, and before we knew it, their motor home went up in
flames. It couldn’t have took more than a minute, and now it’s a burned out
wreck.”
“Oh, no. Did anyone get hurt?”
Christine leaned forward in her chair.
“No, thank the good Lord, we was all
outside at my place havin’ coffee. The problem is they lost everything. Their
wallets, credit cards, clothes….you name it. All gone. They couldn’t save
nothin’. They only have the clothes on their backs. I told ‘em we’d come and
see you ‘cause you’d know how to help them get back home to Tennessee.”
Resigned that Jackson would not leave
unless she agreed to meet with the distressed couple, Christine stood up from
her desk and smiled. “I’d be happy to meet them.”
When the pastor and Jackson emerged
from the church, an older man, short and paunchy, slowly climbed out from the
passenger side of the van. He limped to the sliding door and opened it up. He
helped a woman who looked as if she would have been as squishy as a
marshmallow, soft and round, clamber out of the van. The bulky woman wore a
brightly colored print shirt, neon green cardigan sweater, and pink polyester
slacks with matching pink clogs.
She turned and reached inside the van.
Christine blinked to make sure she was clearly seeing the lady gently lift what
looked like a pig on a leash onto the asphalt parking lot. The man went around
to the back of the van, opened the door, and a small kangaroo on a harness
hopped out of the vehicle.
Christine stopped in her tracks. “Am I
seeing what I think I’m seeing?” She looked at Jackson then back to the van.
She closed her eyes and then re-opened them to look once more to convince her
brain the scene was real.
“Pastor, this here is Harley and his
friend, Iola.” Christine shook their hands getting a whiff of stale cigar smoke
mixed with bacon grease.
“And who are these delightful
creatures?” She wanted to pinch herself to be sure this was not a dream. What
an odd assortment of pets. All in a camper?
“Oh, this here is Katy, our kangaroo,
well, I guess she’s what ya’ call a wallaby, and Abraham, our pot-bellied pig.”
Christine stooped to pat the pig’s head
and then scratched around his ears. The gentle swine as big as a medium sized
dog grunted with pleasure. Assured by the sounds and smell of the pig this was
not a dream, she couldn’t help but smile at the outrageous family.
“I’m sorry you’re having such a tough
time. I hated to hear about your RV fire. I told Jackson about an agency that
can help you.”
“Thank you, thank you so much, Pastor.”
When Christine stood up, Harley pumped her hand again. “Iola is so upset. She’s
practically hysterical. She’s so worried about how we’re gonna get back home.
We can’t even rent a car without a proper driver’s license. Everything burned
up in the fire.” Tears puddled in his gray eyes.
Suddenly the pig began grunting and
straining at the leash, dancing around as if on a bed of hot coals.
“Oooooh, Harley, my nitro.” Iola
clutched her chest and then fell to the ground like a limp rag doll.
“Darlin’, Darlin’!” Harley moved as
quickly as a teen-ager to cradle his unconscious girlfriend in his arms. He
began digging in his shirt pocket to find the medicine. “Iola, honey!” The pig
moved into the scene grunting and prodding the supine woman.
Christine ran to the church door and
yelled at Ella, “Ella, Ella, call 9-1-1. A woman collapsed in the parking lot.”
She raced back to the scene where Jackson had already started CPR on the
lifeless woman. Christine pulled off her suit coat and placed it under Iola’s
head then shot a quick prayer to heaven.
Ella rushed out of the office with the
handheld phone to her ear. She yelled to the group, “They’re on the way now!”
Harley returned the vial of nitro
glycerin tablets, always kept close to his heart, to his shirt pocket.
Unbelievably, the kangaroo stood next to his owner and did not try to escape.
BUY LINKS:
Amazon.com, bn.com, and major online booksellers.
ABOUT J.Q. ROSE
After writing feature articles in magazines, newspapers, and
online magazines for over fifteen years, J.Q. Rose entered the world of fiction
writing with her first published novella,
Sunshine Boulevard, released by MuseItUp Publishing in 2011. Blogging, photography, Pegs and Jokers board
games, and travel are the things that keep her out of trouble. Spending winters
in Florida with her husband allows Janet the opportunity to enjoy the life of a
snowbird. Summer finds her camping and hunting toads, frogs, and salamanders
with her four grandsons and granddaughter.
J.Q. Rose blog http://www.jqrose.com/
Girls Succeed blog http://girlssucceed.blogspot.com/
Author website http://jqrose.webs.com/
J. Q. Rose Amazon Author Page http://tinyurl.com/aeuv4m4
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