What Rhys is Supposed to be writing.

 RHYS BOWEN: I've been doing a lot of juggling lately--not with balls or flaming torches, but we various things I'm supposed to be writing. 

1. Clare and I are forging ahead on the next Molly book, called, tentatively A WHIFF OF SCANDAL. It features Vanderbilts, car races, and the moral police.  Clare is doing most of the work and I'm hovering in the background, making occasional suggestions but open to phone calls every evening.

2. I'm about to begin the next Royal Spyness. I was toying with various ideas that might be fun when it suddenly hit me. Duh! It's the Coronation. It has to be about the Coronation to which Georgie and Darcy are invited. And who else might be attending and whether there might be any drama.  No title as yet. If you have any brilliant suggestions to do with being crowned etc, do share them. Unfortunately I used he word Crowned in a title already. 

3. The edits just arrived for the stand alone novel I just turned in. (Called, at this moment FROM SEA TO SKYE). I am always terrified to open that letter in case the editor has said, "While it's a nice story we don't like the main character as a twenty something woman. Could you make her a Russian man of fifty and rewrite the crime in the second half setting it in Chicago?"  Luckily the editors like it, had some really valuable insights into making my character's arc stronger and clearer. So they will be a breeze to work through and the book will be stronger for them. Pfew and thank you editors. 

4. Which means my editor will want to see story suggestions for a new contract (which I hope is forthcoming). So I've been dabbling with several ideas, all quite different. I can't share them now, except one takes place in the present, in 1820 and in 1450. (why do I give myself these impossible challenges when I could write a nice straightforward murder set on Nantucket?)

So I have been, and should be, busy except.... last week I had a horrible fall while I was walking with John on our favorite trail by the Bay. To get to the trail you have to go up a ramp, along a berm or dyke and then down the other side. At the top there is a tiny step onto the ramp... at least it's tiny for most of it but on one side it's deeper where dogs have continually peed against the railing and worn away the soil. I came around the corner, caught my foot on this step and went sprawling down the concrete ramp. Hit my head on the railing and took the skin off both arms and my knee. I am bandaged to look like an audition for the curse of the mummy.  And not finding it easy to sit and work.

At least I tell myself I didn't break anything or get a concussion. So healing vibes would be appreciated, please! I won't post pictures because I'm sure you don't have that strong a stomach.

So let's think positively and come up with some great titles about a coronation, please?

Rhys is writing and reading.

 RHYS BOWEN: It's December and I'm conscious of deadline pressure. We have to turn in the next Molly Murphy book by January 1. Clare is finishing up the last chapters then I have to go in and do a complete read through to make sure the pieces we've written agree with each other. We don't want a coachman called Ed in one scene and Ned in another. We have to make sure all the dates and times are accurate and that we haven't given anything away that we shouldn't. So the big read through will take several days.  I know the plot will all be right, because we discuss every day what needs to happen next. Clare is writing brilliantly and the book has a really good plot.  It's all about the suffrage moment and the treatment of women within society. (Now how could that be relevant for today, I wonder?). It features a female scientest whose research has to be published under her husband's name.  So I know the story will resonate with all our women readers!

But, being me, at the same time as this I am writing the next Royal Spyness mystery (number 19). It's not due until the end of February but I need to get started on the next stand-alone and I have to give myself more time for that as it's longer and always needs research (and I don't know yet which Idea I'll be writing about).  So I'm trying to forge ahead with the Georgie book, called FROM CRADLE TO THE GRAVE.

As is the case with all the series it has a fun, lighthearted plot running through it. This time it's about nannies. Georgie's sister in law Fig has sent her the nanny from hell. Strict, old fashioned and determined to rule the roost. Georgie is allowed to see her child for an hour at tea time when he's brought down from the nursery. That's the way it's done in the best of houses. Georgie knows this. It's how it's always been done in her own family. But she wants to be more hands-on with her child. She wants to get rid of Nanny, but how? Will she dare to stand up to Fig for once?  She might....

At the same time a perplexing case has arrisen. Several of their friends have just been to funerals of young men they knew. All died in what seemed to be accidents. All were heirs to estates, titles or money. Is someone killing off the sons of English peers? Is Darcy next on the list? And how can Georgie leave her child to get away to solve this?  There is a lot of juggling in the writing, making sure we learn tiny snippets here and there that enable Georgie (and the reader) to come to the right conclusion.

Here is a scene where she first meets Nanny:

This story began when I looked out of the blue bedroom window at the front of the house on a brisk March morning to see an ancient taxi cab coming up the driveway. As I watched it disgorged a tall, middle aged woman. She looked around with an expression so haughty and disapproving that I concluded she had to be at least a Russian grand duchess, maybe sent to us by Princess Zamanska, (usually known to her friends as Zou Zou.) I hastily patted my hair into place and smoothed down my skirt, noticing a couple of carrot stains from feeding my baby son James, and hurried down the stairs to greet her myself.

                I opened the front door just as she was about to knock.

                “Hello,” I said.

                The expression became even more disapproving. “Are all the servants in this house allowed to be so familiar with arriving guests and to be dressed in such an inappropriate manner?” she asked in a voice that could cut glass. “I wish to speak to Lady Georgiana. Please go and inform her that I have arrived.”

                I noticed that she was wearing a gray cape over a gray skirt with a gray pill box hat on her head, matching her gray hair and gray face. Only the eyes were a darker shade of steel. Golly, I thought. Was I supposed to know she was coming? Had Darcy or one of the servants forgotten to pass along a message that a person of considerable importance was about to land on my doorstep?

                “I am Lady Georgiana,” I said. “Please do come in.”

                At this she raised an eyebrow. “Your sister-in-law, Her Grace the Duchess, told me that this was a lax household but I had no idea that the lady of the house had to open her own front door.”

                “I just happened to see the cab draw up from the upstairs window so I came down to greet you, I said, So you know Fig, do you?”

                “Her grace, Hilda, Duchess of Rannoch? Yes. I am familiar with her. A wonderful woman. Salt of the Earth.”

                Anyone who could describe Fig as a wonderful woman was immediately suspect in my view. “And may one know your name?”

                The eyebrow arched again. “You mean you were not expecting me? Your sister-in-law, her grace, the duchess, told me she was going to write to you announcing my arrival. Clearly the post office is not what it was, or maybe storms in Scotland have stranded the postal van again. I am your new nanny. Nanny Hardbottle.”

                I think my jaw dropped open and somehow I was unable to close it.

                She was frowning at me now.

                “But there must be some mistake. I didn’t request, I mean I had not hired…”

                “Precisely,” she said. “Her Grace told me that you had been without a proper nanny since the birth of the child and it was about time you had one. So she took it upon herself to save you the trouble and, as luck would have it, she learned that the last of the Aubery-Fulton sons has just gone off to a military academy and that I would now be free.”

                I still couldn’t make my mouth work to say anything.

                “I had considered retiring,” she continued, “and growing begonias in a cottage in the Lake District, but given your obvious need and the way her grace, the duchess, almost got down on her knees to beg me, how could I refuse? The young master is going to be raised to be a leader of the empire, after all.” She paused, examining me with utter disdain. “Now, if you would be good enough to have a member of your staff show me to my quarters? I presume that there is a suitable room for me in the nursery suite, next to the young master?”

                The young master was, at this moment, not in the nursery at all. He was in his cot in my bedroom, since I had been nursing him myself and wasn’t about to go walking around the corridors and up the stairs in the middle of the night. Also I wanted to be close to him if he woke up and cried. I knew, in theory, that I needed a proper nanny. James was being raised, as she said, to be a future leader of the empire, and families like mine expected to employ nannies. But I had put it off, enjoying the closeness and the ability to watch every new achievement, every smile and gurgle. Until now my personal maid, Maisie, had helped me take care of him, doing the less pleasant tasks like his laundry, changing nappies and watching him when I was out. My brain was racing, trying to think of a way to tell this woman that she was the last person on God’s earth that I’d want taking care of my child, but my brain refused to work.

                I opened my mouth to tell her to go away and never come back but instead I heard myself saying, “If you will come into the morning room, I will summon my housekeeper. She will know about nursery arrangements.”

So how will Georgie manage to get rid of this awful person without incurring the wrath of Fig? Will Queenie have a hand in it? You'll have to read to find out....

Everyone seems to have a favorite character in this series. Who is yours?

5 Things In My WIP

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Next week, we're bringing back one of our readers' favorite events: What We're Writing Week. That's right, gang, you're going to get exclusive peeks at the Jungle Reds as-yet-unpublished works, everything from excerpts of soon-to-be-out novels to paragraphs of first drafts that may never see the light of day. Exciting!

In honor of our upcoming event, and to whet your appetite, we're going to play a game (do a thing? Share a meme?) I've seen on Twitter, entitled, you guessed it - 5 Things in My WIP. Here's what you'll see in HID FROM OUR EYES:
1. Breastfeeding

2. County fair

3. Caterers

4. Russ getting sprayed with a hose during a fist fight

5. Forbidden Love
Of course there's forbidden love. What else do you expect from me?

Reds? Name your Five!

JENN McKINLAY: I'm working on next year's rom com THE CHRISTMAS KEEPER. My five things are:

1. Ugly Christmas sweaters
2. Orphaned baby elephants (yes, for real)
3. A romance bookstore
4. The Royal Order of George (long story)
5. Spiked eggnog

HALLIE EPHRON: I just wrapped up CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR -- pub date next August. My five things:
1. Yard sales

2. A locked storage unit

3. A MAD Magazine "What Me Worry" board game

4. A retired librarian

5. A stun gun

 


HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  Just got the big BRAVA for THE MURDER LIST!  Coming next August 20.              My five things:
1. Envy

2. A necklace

3. Snow

4. Choosing sides

5. Jury tampering?

(May I have forbidden love, too? It's not in there, but--oooh, wait. Yes it is! It totally is! It's actually the point. Whoa..)





JULIA: You get a forbidden love! And YOU get a forbidden love! And YOU get a forbidden love!

RHYS BOWEN: Just handed it my next Royal Spyness for next August. My five things:

1.Ants
2.Bed hopping
3. Polo
4.charging elephant
5.Honeymoon

LUCY BURDETTE: Oh I can't wait to read every one of these!! I'm working on a women's fiction novel called THE HAPPINESS CONNECTION. Five things:

1. Yale Law School

2. a gargoyle

3. chocolate cake (you of course realize that's MY substitute for forbidden love)

4. a self-help happiness group

5. betrayal



DEBORAH CROMBIE: Rhys, just reading your list made me laugh. Can't wait to read everyone's WIPs!

 I promise mine does have a title, I'm just waiting on the final thumbs up from my publisher's sales and marketing folks. So until then, from Kincaid/James #18, five things:
1.a car crash

2.sheep

3.croquet

4.a break up

5.food!!!




JULIA: Okay, dear readers, if you're writing, tell us five things in your WIP! If not, let us know what elements intrigue you... and what's YOUR forbidden love? (Spoiler: mine is Reese's Peanut Butter Cup minis. So good. So bad.)

IN the Name of Research

RHYS BOWEN:
One of the fun things about writing books set in another place and time is the research I have to do. I know it's fiction but I am determined that everything should be right. I don't know about you, but if I come across something incorrect in a story, even if it's fiction, I can't go on with the book. If a character addresses someone with a title wrongly, calls the king "Your royal highness" instead of "Your majesty" for instance, then the spell is broken for me.  The narrator becomes an unreliable guide and I put the book down (I have been known to throw it across the room if the mistake is really bad!)
So every time I go to England and Europe I have a long to-do list of things I need to check on or check out. I can walk around castles and go to museums but my favorite sort of research is the serendipitous kind. I had several opportunities like this in the past six weeks: I went to stay with close friends in Lincolnshire. I mentioned I needed to find someone who was an expert on the Blenheim Bomber aircraft from WW2 as my character has to fly one in my new book.

:You want to see old bombers"?" Roger asked me. "We've got the WW2 aircraft museum at an old airfield near here." So we drove to it and found.a giant hangar housing a Lancaster Bomber, various other planes, parachutes, uniforms, armored cars and... Most important of all, details of crashes and how the plane broke apart, how pilots baled out, and letters they wrote home to wives and sweethearts. Everything I needed to make my book authentic. We visited the old control tower, the chapel, a workshop where they were rebuilding other WW2 aircraft and then went to the bookstore to find books that might have diagrams of the aircraft I wanted.  The woman serving in the store turned out to be a relative of the WW2 pilot whose family had started the museum.
"You want to know about the Blenheim, do you?" She asked. "You need to talk to Archie." And she brought a middle aged man across to me. It turned out he was THE expert. He answered every question I had had. Yes, the oxygen was incorporated in the helmet. And they wore a canvas flight suit over their flying jacket, and the pilot would have had to climb out through the cockpit roof and it did slide back.... My plane crash will be utterly authentic, thanks to Archie. And I have his email address in case something else comes up.  How fantastic.

Then I was looking for a new stately home for Lady Georgie to live in. We went to visit an elderly relative AND she has moved into this fabulous property...  Not the whole thing but has an apartment and shares the gardens and common rooms. So I got my property without having to work for it.

Sometimes my research leads me to a Lady Georgie moment (and you know how embarrassing things happen to her!)   I had to check out churches to know where to set Georgie's wedding. (semi-spoiler alert... in case she gets married, I mean) I knew which one I wanted, actually a posh church in Mayfair where my sister in law had married, and we went to take pictures. When we arrived we heard singing. A mass was going on (Catholic church). We tried to creep in to the back but instead an imposing gentleman in a black suit insisted on ushering us into a pew.  That's when we noticed everyone else was very well dressed, in black. We were in the middle of a posh funeral! And we could hardly get up and leave without being noticed. I was dying of embarrassment in my white jeans and T shirt and terrified that the mass would end and we'd be caught up in a crowd that asked us, "How do you know good old X?
We managed to tiptoe out as everyone stood for the final hymn and once safely outside I realized that crashing a funeral would be a fabulous scene for a future Georgie book!

So all those morons on Amazon who say in reviews that I know nothing, let me tell you how much research I really do! And how much I know

Does Accuracy matter to you, dear Reds? How hard do you work to get everything right? Have you had some serendipitous moments like this?

RHYS CELEBRATES THE RELEASE OF MALICE AT THE PALACE

RHYS: Today I’m celebrating the publication of my ninth

Royal Spyness mystery called MALICE AT THE PALACE.  It seems almost no time at all since I wrote that first book, HER ROYAL SPYNESS and we first met the penniless and slightly clueless Lady Georgie, thirty-fifth in line to the throne, and the dashing but dangerous Darcy O’Mara. Their relationship has had its ups and downs since then. Georgie has solved a few mysteries. But this one was particularly fun to write because it featured a real royal wedding, and a real royal scandal.

            Georgie is asked to move into Kensington Palace where Princess Marina of Greece and Denmark is being housed before her wedding to Prince George, the Duke of Kent, youngest son of King George and Queen Mary. Georgie is supposed to show Marina the ropes of life in England.

But of course Georgie knows very few ropes herself, having lived most of her life in a Scottish castle and not having the money to mingle with the beautiful people. All is going smoothly until a body turns up under the haunted clock-tower at Kensington Palace. And it’s the body of a young woman who was a former mistress of the groom. It’s up to Georgie to avert a royal scandal that might stop the wedding!

            How dare I write this, you may ask? I do dare because so much of it is based on well documented fact. King George’s youngest son led a very wild life.  In fact his behavior was so scandalous that his papers were sealed after his death. What we do know is that his lovers were reputed to include many celebrities: Noel Coward and Barbara Cartland among others.  Party girl Kiki Preston was one of his mistresses. She was known as ‘the girl with the silver syringe’ because of her cocaine habit. She eventually committed suicide. The prince and Princess Marina seemed genuinely fond of each other and he might have mended his ways and settled down but he died in a plane crash in WWII.

            So you can imagine I had fun doing my research in Kensington Palace. I had the bones of my story in place but what I had not counted on was the number of ghosts that haunt the palace. The young woman in white who is supposed to be Princess Sophia, daughter of George the first. Kept shut away in a palace she fell in love with an equerry and produced a child. The child was taken from her and her ghost walks the halls looking for it or her lover.  Then there is the wild boy Peter, found in a forest in Germany and brought over for the king’s amusement. He appears from time to time, leaping out and laughing maniacally.

            You can certainly feel the coldness in some rooms and find yourself glancing over your shoulder on some staircases. I didn’t see a ghost personally, but I asked one of the guards if he’d ever seen one.  “Not here,” he said, “although I know those who have. But the house where I was living I went downstairs to turn off the TV, turned around, and there was a woman in black standing behind me. She said “once I was blind. Now I can see.”  I can’t tell you how fast I sprinted back up those stairs.”

            Do you believe in ghosts? I have to because I grew up in a haunted house. My brother and I slept alone on the top floor. I used to see a procession of hooded figures coming up the stairs.  Windows would blow open, letting in a howling gale. Mats would flap on the floors. I wondered if it was all my imagination and asked my brother, who was eight when we left that house, if he thought it was haunted.  “Of course it was,” he said easily.

So who needs to make things up when there are so many good stories in England, just waiting to be told.  Have you ever seen a ghost? Do you believe in them?  I will give away a signed copy of MALICE AT THE PALACE to my favorite comment of the day.

And all this week I’ll be on tour. Scottsdale, Houston, Naperville IN, Dayton OH, Petaluma CA, Corte Madera CA.  If you’d like details check the appearances page of my website www.rhysbowen.com. I hope to see some of you along the way. And do come up and tell me you read Jungle Red Writers!

Rhys on Palaces and Ghosts.

RHYS BOWEN: What am I writing? Well, I've been juggling three books and am just beginning to see the light at the end of a very long tunnel. I wrote an extra Molly book earlier this year. It's going to be a Christmas book, due out in November and called AWAY IN A MANGER. But it doesn't seem right to share something Christmassy in April, especially when all my friends in the North East are heartily tired of snow!

And I'm just starting a new Molly book, due out next spring, but it's very much a work in progress and at this stage I'm not sure what parts of the story will stay and what will go. All I can share with you is that it takes Molly to San Francisco in April 1906. Nuff said.

So I'm going to share a snippet of the book on which I've just finished the final edits and is due out in August. It's the next Royal Spyness book and it's called MALICE AT THE PALACE. And it seemed appropriate because I leave for the Malice Domestic convention on Thursday.

I have fun researching all my books, but this was particularly enjoyable as much of the book takes place at Kensington Palace, so I spent a lot of time prowling around, looking for the famous ghosts. I asked one of the curators if he'd ever seen one. Not here, he said, but at a grace and favor cottage he'd once lived in. He turned around and a woman in black was standing behind him. She looked at him and said, "Once I was blind. Now I can see."  He told me he'd never run up the stairs so fast.  So ghosts are an accepted part of English life. My own home was definitely haunted. A procession of hooded figures used to come up the stairs.

But this excerpt is not going to be scary. It's rare that I share the first chapter of a book, but I think this one is fun:  Enjoy:

            Over the noise of the wind and rain I had heard the distinct metallic click of a latch, followed by the sound of a door being opened.  Somebody was coming into the house. I wondered if I had forgotten to lock the door before I went to bed, but I definitely remembered doing so.  I was out of bed in a flash.  Belinda’s cottage was really tiny with a flight of stairs leading up to the bedroom I was occupying, a bathroom and a box room.  I looked around desperately. There was nowhere to hide if burglars had broken in. I examined the bed, but Belinda had piled boxes and trunks under it. The wardrobe was still full of her clothes.  I wondered if perhaps I could tiptoe across the hall to the box room, or better yet the bathroom. Surely no burglar would think of looking in the bath?

        

    I opened the door cautiously and was about to peer around it when I heard the sound of low voices in the hallway down below. Golly. More than one of them. I glanced back into the room to see if there was anything I might use as a weapon—but I didn’t think the frail china table lamp would be much good, even if I could unplug it in time. Then I heard a laugh that I recognized.  Belinda’s laugh. She had come home unexpectedly and she was probably talking to the taxi driver who was carrying in her luggage. I was about to step out to greet her when I heard her say,

            “Toby, you are so naughty.  Now stop that, at least until I have my gloves off.”

            “Can’t wait, you delectable creature,” said a deep man’s voice.  “I’m going to rip off all your clothes, throw you down on that bed and give you one hell of a good ravishing.”

            “You are certainly not going to rip anything,” Belinda said, laughing again. “I happen to like my clothes. But you may undress me as quickly as you like.”

            “Good show,” he said.  “I’ve been dying to bed you since we first danced together on the ship.  But too many watchful eyes.   It was dashed clever of you to suggest coming back here, rather than a hotel.  A man in my position can’t be too careful, don’t you know.”

            Toby? I thought.  Not Sir Toby Blenchley, cabinet minister?  I had no time to consider this as they were now heading for the stairs. I stood behind that door in an agony of embarrassment and indecision.  Surely she couldn’t have forgotten that I was occupying her house, and thus her bedroom, could she? Did she really think it would be acceptable to roll in the hay with a cabinet minister while I was there?  Where did she expect me to go while they were thus engaged?  I sighed in exasperation. How typically Belinda.

            I heard her giggle and say, “My, but you are impatient, aren’t you?” as they came up the stairs. What on earth was I to do? Leap out on them and say “Welcome home, Belinda darling. Perhaps you had forgotten that you’d lent your house to your best friend ?” Sir Toby wasn’t in the first flush of youth. What if the surprise brought on a heart attack?  On the other hand there was now no way I could cross the upstairs landing to the box room, and I certainly didn’t want to be trapped in there listening to their hijinks.

            Then it was decided for me. Belinda ran up the rest of the stairs calling, “Come on then, last one into bed is a sissy!”  She pushed open the bedroom door with full force, trapping me behind it. She had several robes hanging from the back of that door and these were now in my face. I heard the sounds of two people undressing hurriedly. Maybe if I kept quiet and didn’t move he’d have his way with her and then go, I decided. Better still, maybe they’d both fall asleep and I could creep out and take refuge in the box room.

            “God, you really are delectable,” I heard him say. “Those neat little breasts. Enough to drive a man wild. Come here.”

            I heard bed springs creak, a grunt, a sigh.  Then something terrible happened. One of Belinda’s robes was trimmed with feathers. And one of these feathers was now tickling my nose. To my horror I realized I was going to sneeze. I was pinned so tightly behind the door that it was hard for me to get my hand up to my nose. I managed it just in time and clamped my fingers over my nose and mouth. The noises on the bed were getting more violent and urgent.  The sneeze was still lingering, waiting to come out the moment I let go.  I willed it to go away but I had to breathe.  And then, in spite of everything , it came out, a great big “A—choo,” just at the moment when Belinda was moaning  “Oh yes, oh yes.”

            It was amazing how quickly the room fell silent.

            “What the devil was that?” Sir Toby asked.

            “Someone’s in the house.” I heard the bed creak as Belinda got up.

            “I thought you said there’d be nobody here.”

            “It must be my maid, although I didn’t tell her I was coming home,” Belinda said. “How could she have known?  I’ll go and see if she’s sleeping in the box room.”  Then she lowered her voice. “Don’t go away, you big brute. I’ll be back and we can continue from where we left off.”

            “I don’t know about that,” he said. “Not if your maid’s in the house. Is she likely to gossip?”

            “My maid is paid very well to close her eyes to anything that goes on in my bedroom,” Belinda said. “You don’t have to worry, Toby, I promise you. I’ll just get my robe…”

            And she swung the door open……

If you want to know what happens next, you'll have to buy the book!/It involves a real royal scandal and a real royal wedding and of course lots of mayhem. I'm off to England on May 12 to do more snooping around for new stories. And I'll be attending Crimefest in Bristol. 

Sex and the Single Sleuth

RHYS BOWEN: When I first started writing my Molly Murphy mysteries, which was almost 15 years ago now, my editor was insistent that I cut out a sexy scene.  She felt it detracted from a serious mystery and I shouldn’t be crossing into romance.I was told that mystery readers didn't want romance. I disagreed and felt the scene was important to my characters and the plot. We compromised and I was allowed a toned-down scene.

 Things have changed a little since then and I also started writing a second series with a wild and wicked Irish hero called Darcy O’Mara.  When I first created him as a love interest I didn’t realize how obsessed some of my readers would be with him—including my current editor. We were having a serious editorial discussion once when she said, “Do you think that Darcy could take off his shirt more often?”
    I get emails that say “More Darcy please.” Whether I like it or not I have crossed over to a certain extent into the realm of romance. Or is that mysteries are just getting more sexy?
    A plot thread running through my Royal Spyness series has been that my heroine, Lady Georgie, is a virgin and we’ve had that ongoing will they/won’t they tension. It’s the Moonlighting syndrome, I suppose, but I happen to love a touch of romance and that sexual tension (and of course it adds to the humor, as they are lighthearted novels).
  Recently I’ve been getting pressure from fans that it’s finally about time that they DID IT.  So I thought I’d try a social experiment and ask my  Facebook fans whether they should get on with it or wait until they might marry in the future. And I’d abide by their decision.  Well, they were overwhelmingly in favor of waiting until they get married, which surprised me. What also surprised me was the way they wrote as if my characters were real and dear to them.  “She won’t feel comfortable with herself. It goes against the way she’s been raised.”
I think my own take on sex in mysteries, or in any novel , is that it has to be relevant, to further character development or relationship, or create a plot twist. No sexy scenes just to titillate. I’ve read books in which I can almost hear the writer thinking “It’s sort of slow right now. How about they take their clothes off?” I'm not a fan of graphic sex, in fact the sexiest scenes for me are when nothing happens on camera--think of Robert Redford washing Meryl Streep's hair in Out of Africa.

    So I’m curious, dear Reds—what do you feel about sex in mysteries? How do you handle it?  We are certainly not lacking in sexual tension and steamy relationships in Red’s mystery series—Russ and Clare,  Jake and Jane, and of course Duncan and Gemma have had their moments.  Do you think that romantic relationships detract from the mystery? Do you think sexy scenes have a place outside romance novels? Have you had soul searching about whether to further your characters’ relationships? Are you happy with where they are now and where they are going?

LUCY BURDETTE: It's like everything else the characters do--eat, travel, work--if the steamy romance shows character or becomes important to the plot, bring it on! I unfortunately don't seem capable of writing scenes like those. I had my characters kiss in a recent scene, and all of us became embarrassed--from Miss Gloria to Hayley to me. Maybe I feel too much like Hayley's mom?

HALLIE EPHRON: In our discussion of this topic week before last, it was so interesting that the general agreement was: sex and romance in a mystery work when they're integral to the story. Nevertheless, Lady Georgie is a grownup - sounds as if she's going to have to "do it." But then what??

When I read a mystery I usually skip over explicit sex. Yup, I do. TMI. Love my ROKU because when I'm watching a show like Scandal which I sort of love, I can fast forward through the steamy parts. But that's me, and fortunately the world is full of all kinds of readers who love and detest books for identical reasons!

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I have no objection to writing (or reading) explicit sex scenes when those scenes further the plot. But how often does that actually happen? Only if something that happened changed the character's motivation or precipitated something integral to the story. And with my main characters, I think sexual tension is always more fun than play-by-play descriptions. I know how it's done--I assume my readers do, too.

As for Georgie, I agree with your readers.  Women of Georgie's class and time period may have been quite promiscuous AFTER marriage, but not before. Imagine Georgie's difficulties if she got pregnant! On the other hand, you can't keep up the will they/won't they forever, and I'd love to see them get married at some point and become a sleuthing team!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I agree that for Georgie, it would be out of character for her to give her all before marriage - the time, her class, and the bad example of her mother, the Bolter, argue against it. Of course, repression can lead to some amazingly steamy moments without the characters hitting the sack.

Any action fictional characters take should, I believe, reveal the character or advance the plot. If you're writing about two people falling in love, or resisting falling in love, or simply working around having the hots for one another, their moments together are going to reveal character and advance the plot. Of course, that doesn't mean the author has to get explicit. When Scarlett wakes up humming and stretching in bed, we all know what happened after Rhett swept her up the stairs the night before.

I think how much the author should show depends on a few things. How explicit action is in the rest of the book? You can't give a detailed description of a bullet bouncing around a victim's brain and then pretend to be too delicate for sex. What's the style and genre? Hardboiled readers expect and accept different things in their fiction than cozy readers, for example. Finally, to what degree does the story hinge on the H/H relationship? If your heroine has a cop boyfriend who pops in every chapter or two to help out, I suspect the readers are perfectly fine with keeping the bedroom door closed. If the love story has been front-burner, driving-the-plot stuff (let's face it, I'm talking about my books, here) readers will be disappointed if they don't get the big payoff they've been waiting for.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  Anticipation, aftermath, imagination, longing.  That's what I think is compelling. (Will Jake and Jane get together? On the PAGE? What do you vote?)



SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Dealing with this very subject in the novel I'm right now finishing up, MRS. ROOSEVELT'S CONFIDANTE. Maggie Hope and John Sterling have made it through four books without much more than a smooch, but how long can I keep this up? On the one hand, good girls of that era didn't. And yet, on the other hand, quite a few good girls of that era certainly did — especially with the World War II as a backdrop and everything uncertain. in terms of sex between other characters, I like to do the "fade out" and "fade in" that Julia refers to.

I don't mind reading sex scenes if they're important to the novel, but Miss Edna says she skips them. "I know what goes where," she says, "so let's get on with the story."

RHYS: I agree with Miss Edna (as usual). But we want to hear from you! Does sex belong in mystery novels? Detract from the plot? Annoy you? Let your voices be heard!

Coronation Day for QUEEN OF HEARTS!

Hank Phillippi Ryan:  All this week we're peeking into your bedrooms--to see your TBR piles! And today, see below, we have even more of your wonderful stashes.

And here's a new book that we think--just saying--ought to be on ALL of them very soon!

Happy Book Day to our dear darling duchess, Rhys Bowen!  Her brand new QUEEN OF HEARTS already has two starred reviews

 

RTBR gave the Queen 4 ½ stars! And when a review starts “Climb aboard the crazy train…” and ends with “Bowen’s delightful royal is as charming and feisty as ever…the supporting cast of characters will charm new fans into discovering Bowen’s superior sleuth,” you know you’re in for a treat.

You know about the Royal Spyness books, right?  In this one, Lady Georgiana, 35th in line to the throne of England but penniless, finds herself dragged off to America in this 8th book in the Royal Spyness series. Her much married mother now wants a quickie divorce and Reno seems to be the place. On the Transatlantic crossing they encounter a jewel thief and a movie mogul who persuades Georgie's mum to appear in his new movie. Life among Hollywood's glitterati seems like a dream for Georgie, but is about to turn into a nightmare in which she might star in her own death scene.

So, yay for Rhys! She’s done it again. And in honor of QUEEN OF HEARTS, I did my best to get the scoop from our own queen of mystery, the hilarious and wonderful Rhys Bowen.  

Title of your autobiography?

   “Been There, Done That.”

Whoa. Wonderful. Why?

  I’ve had quite an eclectic life and the opportunity to live in different parts of the world.

So---what would you still like to do?

A safari is still on my bucket list. And I’d like to write that one definitive book, like To Kill a Mockingbird. Oh, and I wouldn’t mind winning an Edgar either.  (Only modest ambitions, as you see.)

Very Rhys! Book you wish you had written?

     The Lord of the Rings.

Movie you would see again and again?

     Out of Africa

Why?

It’s so beautiful and so sad, and reminds me that I never experienced that great and doomed love. Also Robert Redford washes Meryl Streep’s hair in one of the sexiest scenes ever.

Exotic drinks--yes? No?

  When I’m somewhere exotic. Sangria when I’m in Spain, Mai Tai when I’m in Hawaii, Margaritas in Mexico. At home I’m sensible.

When in history would you choose to visit?

I’ve always been fascinated by ancient Rome.

Why?

 They were so modern in many ways. Central heating, lending libraries for novels! Of course I’d stay away from the gladiators.

  

Very sensible. Pizza or chocolate?

No contest. Chocolate. Dark chocolate. After 8 mints.

Spouse?

 Does that mean do I want one or have I got one? The latter. Doesn’t necessarily mean I don’t want to trade him in sometimes.

Kids?  Pets?

Four kids and now 5 grandkids. The latter are much easier because I can send them back. Actually they are all wonderful and adorable. I love them to pieces and we have great times laughing together.

No pets. We travel too much.

  

Hobbies?

We travel a lot. I hike once a week with friends (saved a fortune in therapy bills). I sing. I paint (not very well) and I play the Celtic harp. All of the above only when I have time, unfortunately. With 2 books a year it’s not easy.

Yeah. Seriously, how do you do that?

  It’s part insanity, part not being able to say no.

Garden?

 Well, we have a lot of land, but we live on a hill and there are deer so it’s impossible to grow much. Mainly citrus and lavender. Actually I have no free time for anything more right now.

  

Fear or phobia?

Hate spiders. Hate ‘em but I’m civilized enough not to kill them. I trap them in a glass and carry them outside, which I think is very noble of me.

What someone might not know about you.

  I used to sing in London folk clubs with Al Stewart and I knew Simon and Garfunkel.

Dish, please! Just tell us ONE cool thing about that.

I had been singing with Al Stewart. We were in a café late one night when Paul and Artie came in. They said they’d come to say goodbye because their manager wanted them to come home to the US. It seemed a record they had made, called The Sounds of Silence, was doing quite well. The rest, as they say, is history.

Paul and Artie, huh? Oh, Rhys, I bet you have SO many stories! But let’s see…

Do you have a recurring dream? What is it?

  I’ve had several. The one I have most often these days is rushing to catch a plane and trying desperately to pack but can’t find my clothes.

I also dream I’m in a play but don’t know my lines. Sound familiar?

Had that one myself. Last night, I dreamed I was supposed to find the cello player for the concert, which I did, and was so proud of myself. But then I couldn’t find him again, and the concert had started. Shaking head. DO you think we’re all a little...stressed?  Anyway. Relaxing.  Do you watch TV? What?

  Mostly PBS. Masterpiece and Mystery, and travel and Nova and British comedy.

I also like watching sports, especially tennis.

Can you sing?

I’m Welsh. All Welsh people can sing! But the answer is yes. I’ve sung all my life, from folk clubs to the local opera chorus.

Best concert you've ever seen?

Hard to think of this one. Harry Connick was terrific once. So was Pavarotti.

Secret talent?

I’m good at boogie boarding!

That I’ve GOTTA see! Thing you always say to yourself when writing?

   For the first half of the book it’s usually that this one will be a hopeless failure and I’ll be revealed as a fraud. Then by the second half I can see it’s going to be okay after all. But the one mantra is “Nothing is written in stone.” You mustn’t love anything so much that you’re not willing to axe it.

So—today is your pub day! Yay. Tell us about QUEEN OF HEARTS!

   It’s the 8^th Royal Spyness book. Georgie is dragged across the Atlantic by her much married mother who wants to get a quickie divorce in Reno. On the way they meet a jewel thief and a movie mogul who persuades her mother to do a cameo role in his movie.

Of course I had to research this well, including taking the Queen Mary 2 across the Atlantic. (How one suffers for one’s art…)

But such fun to satirize Hollywood in the 30s.

Whoo hoo! Does it ever get old—pub day? What are you thinking RIGHT NOW? 

    Never! It is still always a thrill to see one of my books on a shelf and to get fan mail. And to do a book tour and see expectant faces waiting for me.

As to what I’m thinking—I always worry that this book won’t do as well as the last one.

Tell us one more thing about that.

   What can I say—I’m a born worrier.

Are you working now? On what?

   The ninth Royal Spyness book called Malice at the Palace.

Are you…enjoying it?

   I’m still in the first half. But I’m beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel, and these books are fun to write.

Can you believe how amazingly your career has turned out?

  I still remember my first mystery with a first printing of 2500 and I realize what a big part luck plays. I think I’ve learned how to craft good books, but so have many people whose books have gone unnoticed. Being a friendly person has helped with all those fan-based awards. Paying my dues in writing and travel and outreach have certainly contributed.

But things like being an Audible bestseller—that was pure luck for me. Right place at right time.

Right place at the right time, sure. But with a terrific book, and a terrific attitude, and a lot of hard work. Right? Do you have a motto? (What is it?)

   No pressure, no diamonds. (I borrowed it from someone else, and now I don’t know who that was.) But I have it on my bulletin board.

HANK:  Terrific.  And readers, the Reds want to award a copy of The Royal Spyness book of your choice to one lucky commenter!  So---in honor of QUEEN OF HEARTS, what’s your favorite old Hollywood movie? I dibs…what’s the Preston Sturges movie where he plays the director, and it has Veronica Lake? That one. And Adam’s Rib. And Desk Set. (Which Hallie’s parents wrote!)

How about you?

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(And talk about contests, check this out! http://hankphillippiryan.com/newsletters/newsletter-7-14.html)

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Here's Pamela Stiehler! (very literary.)

Let's see nightstands!

Debbie Treadway Lyvers Krenzer (optimistic!)

Charlotte Gruber (elegant!)

Kathy Crowley Ahern (perfect!)

Laurie Evans (is it always this nicely stacked?)

Ellen Bird (so lovely!)

Erika Gustavsen Robinson (with guard cat!)

Victoria Scott (with Tab Hunter!)

Katie Kunsman (I spy THE OTHERWOMAN! xoxo)

Tomorrow, more photos of your night stands! And a fabulous insight from the amazing SJ Rozan.