Meet the Characters of Magnolia Bluff: The Investigator

Once again I’m taking a stroll down the streets of Magnolia Bluff, Texas.

I say hello to those I meet on my morning walk. There’s Gunter Fight entering his bank. We exchange waves. 

I pass by the bakery, mostly because my waistline says I should, but I do wave to Noonan Leigh, the owner. He’s busy so I don’t know if he saw me or not. Best pastries, cakes, and doughnuts in town at Bluff Bakery. At least so I hear.

Down by the courthouse I run into Reece Sovern. He’s the police investigator in Magnolia Bluff. And rather than my words to tell you about Reece, I’m going to once again let Caleb Pirtle talk to you and fill you in on Magnolia Bluff’s detective.

You can find the original blogpost here.

Down deep inside, Detective Reece Sovern may be the happiest man in town. He has a murder to investigate. He’s in the big-time now.

Reece Sovern has been a policeman all of his life.

Spent years driving a patrol car.

Kept his nose clean.

Worked his way up the chain of command.

And now he’s a detective in the small town of Magnolia Bluff.

Mostly he investigates the small stuff.

Thefts.

Burglaries.

Peeping Toms.

But in Death Wears a Crimson Hat, Book 1 of the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles, Reece Sovern finds himself with a murder and a hit-and-run.

Maybe the hit-and-run was an attempted murder.

He’ll find out.

Down deep inside, Reece Sovern may be the happiest man in town.

He’s in the big-time now.

He’ll begin his investigation by talking to the biggest and probably the richest flirt in Magnolia Bluff.

*

Standing on the sidewalk, Reece Sovern unwrapped a cigar, stuck it in his mouth, and walked back to the city hall and police complex to get his car. He’d start by talking to Scarlett Hayden.

Sovern drove around the north end of Burnet Reservoir to Hayden’s Resort, which was situated on the northwest shore of the reservoir.

He remembered when the Haydens bought the fifty acres, put in twenty cabins, and then added a campground with twenty spots. They’d built a fabulous Prairie-style home for themselves, as well.

After all these years, the whole shebang must be worth a few millions, the detective thought, as he pulled into the drive, which was marked private. He wound his way through bald cypress, pecan, Texas ash, cottonwood, bur oak, and cedar elm. He emerged in a clearing. He recognized Scarlett’s big Land Rover and speculated that the beat up Honda parked next to it belonged to some young guy from the college. If one were to believe the gossip, that is.

Of course, if one did believe the gossip, Scarlett Hayden would rarely, if ever, be vertical. And he’d just seen her a little while ago in a vertical position. Besides, she had a resort to run, even though the Smiths did much of the day to day management, Scarlett still had to watch the big picture, which probably meant she was vertical quite a bit of the time.

He parked his car, got out, and walked up to the door. A vision flashed before his eyes of Scarlett walking into Thurgood’s coffee shop. He shook his head and pressed the doorbell.

After what seemed forever, the door opened.

“Mr. Sovern. What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

She was wearing one of those filmy white outfits that women wore in the movies from the 1930s. Jesus, he said to himself. Out loud he said, “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure. C’mon in.” She stepped away from the door and headed for somewhere in the house.

He entered, closed the door, and followed. Her outfit billowed behind her like a cumulus cloud until she stopped at a door.

“We can talk in here.” Her hand motioned for Sovern to enter the room, which he did.

Scarlett followed and sat on the sofa, then tucked her legs under her.

Sovern sat, met her gaze, swallowed, pushed his glasses up his nose, and asked, “What happens if Mary Lou dies? With the society, that is?”

“We elect a new queen. And we’ll add a couple new members.”

“What does the society actually do?”

Scarlett chuckled. “It doesn’t do anything, Mr. Sovern. We girls just wanna have fun. So, we have fun.”

“I find it difficult to picture Mary Lou Fight having fun.”

Scarlett laughed loudly. “Then you don’t know Mary Lou. She has the most fun of us all. All of her gossipy little doings. She damn well has everyone in fear of her. What will she tell? What will she not? And at what price?”

“And you? Does she have you in the palm of her hand?”

“Good lord, no. But that’s only because I don’t give a damn.”

“So who do you think would want Louisa Middlebrook and Mary Lou Fight dead?”

“Louisa?” Sovern watched her cock her head and aim her eyes at the ceiling, and hold that pose for a moment, before turning those dark orbs of hers back to him. “I don’t have a clue. Most likely someone she pissed off when she became Mary Lou’s lap dog.”

“Lap dog?”

“Oh, yes. Mary Lou gave Louisa social standing. Made her somebody. And for that honor, she practically worshipped Mary Lou.”

Sovern thought on that for a moment, and then said, “And Mrs. Fight?”

Once again, Scarlett’s throaty laugh filled the room. “You’d be better off asking, Reece…”

The investigator couldn’t help but notice how she drew out his name and that her eyes became filled with longing. He cleared his throat.

“You’d be better off asking who didn’t want to kill her.”

“And who might that be?”

“I’d guess her husband, Harry Thurgood, and myself, of course. Actually, I have second thoughts about her husband.”

“Why do you exempt Thurgood and yourself?”

“Because neither one of us gives a damn about this little pimple on the butt of nowhere.”

*

Please click HERE to find Death Wears A Crimson Hat on Amazon.

Sandy Signing In wrote on Amazon:

Death Wears A Crimson Hat is a well-written mystery. It’s filled with characters, especially members of the Hats, who are deeply flawed and very believable. Mary Lou’s unprincipled character is one that evokes both dread and disgust. So, I’d have to say that the author, CW Hawes, definitely elicited an emotional response in this reader. Hawes also used character personalities, dialog and action in a way that kept me completely engaged throughout the book. Great job, Mr. Hawes! This is a story that I can highly recommend.

You can’t beat that for a hearty recommendation. Thank you Sandy Signing In!

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

 

CW Hawes is a playwright, award-winning poet, and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

 

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest

The High Sheriff of Magnolia Bluff

There are always people who stand out in a crowd. Or a small town for that matter.

And in Magnolia Bluff, we have quite a few who stand out. One of them is Sheriff Buck Blanton, who we first meet in Eulogy in Black and White.

Once again, I’ve borrowed Caleb Pirtle’s excellent post (with his permission, of course). You can find the original here.

Buck has one facial expression. He grins when he sees you. He grins if he is about to hit you with the hickory club that hangs from his belt.

Every small town has a law officer who’s tough, who takes no nonsense off of anybody.

But he has a good heart.

Probably not a pure soul.

But a good heart.

He’ll go out of his way to help you.

But only God can help you if you break the law.

In the Texas Hill Country town of Magnolia Bluff, that lawman is the high sheriff, Buck Blanton. Here is the scene when you meet him for the first time in Eulogy in Black and White.

*

Buck Blanton makes a sudden U-turn, its headlights splintered by the rain. I pull my denim jacket collar tighter around my throat and watch him ease slowly to the curb beside me and stop. The only sounds Magnolia Bluff can manage at four minutes past eight on a soggy morning are distant rumbles of thunder and Buck’s windshield wipers slapping back and forth in a lackadaisical effort to shove the spatter of raindrops aside.

The sheriff rolls down his window and pushes his blue-tinted Shady Rays sunglasses up above his thickening gray eyebrows. Buck fits the job description of a country sheriff perfectly. Sunglasses, rain or shine. A thick neck. Broad shoulders. Barrel chest. Sagging jowls. Broad nose, probably broken more than once. Hands big enough to grab a grown man by the throat, jerk him off the floor, and shake him into submission. A gray felt Stetson hat lies in the seat beside him. I can’t see his feet, but I know he’s wearing his full quill Justin cowboy boots as black as his skin. Wouldn’t be caught dead without them. Says he was born in them. Says he will die in them. I don’t doubt it for a minute.

“On your way up to see Freddy?” He asks, glancing at the flowers in my hand. The rain has beaten them up pretty good. His voice is deep and mellow, a full octave lower than the thunder.

I nod.

Buck has one facial expression. He grins when he sees you. He grins if he is about to hit you with the hickory club that hangs from his belt. He grins if he’s praying over your lost soul at the First Baptist Church. He’s grinning when he throws you in jail. He’s grinning if he has to shoot you first. I suspect he grins in his sleep.

“Need a lift?”

I shake my head.

“It’s a bad day for walking,” he says. “You still got a mile or so to go before you reach Freddy.”

I shrug. “It’s fine,” I say. “I’m already wet.”

Buck opens the car door. “Get in before I arrest your sorry ass,” he says.

I look closely.

His grin has reached his eyes.

I climb into the front passenger seat. “Hate to mess up your upholstery,” I tell him.

“Don’t matter.” The sheriff wheels back down an empty street. “I’ll have a couple of drunks in here before the day’s out, and they’ll be a damn sight wetter than you are.” He leans forward and studies the rolling black clouds closing in from the west end of Burnet Reservoir. “That’s the trouble with the weather,” Buck says. “It rains on the just and the unjust alike.”

“Sound like a preacher,” I say.

“Tried it once.” Buck shrugs. “Didn’t like it. Found it’s easier to drag the bad guys to jail than drag them to the altar.”

*

You can find Eulogy in Black and White on Amazon. And you’ll be glad you did.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

 

CW Hawes is a playwright, award-winning poet, and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

 

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest

The Great Peanut Butter Conspiracy

On a hot and sunny day in June, Bliss finds herself with a broken down motorcycle on the outskirts of Magnolia Bluff, Texas.

Lucky for her, Ciara Doyle and her repair shop are right there, mere feet away from where the cycle gasped its last breath. And Ciara is more than willing to fix the motorbike. Only it won’t be today.

Which means Bliss is stuck in Magnolia Bluff. Is that so bad? Small Texas town. Persimmon Festival in progress. Pizza for life, just for being a good Samaritan. Friendly people. Of course not. It should be a very pleasant few days and then Bliss can be on her way to wherever.

Well, it isn’t so bad until Bliss involves herself in a hunt for a murderer — at the request of a ghost.

From that point on, Magnolia Bluff ain’t such a quaint town. Not when someone resents Bliss’s poking around. 

Will Bliss survive the attempts on her life and trap a killer?

Find out next week. The Great Peanut Butter Conspiracy by Cindy Davis (Book 3 in the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles) is on pre-order. For only 99¢ you can reserve your copy on Amazon. And the book goes on general sale, June 20th.

Let me tell you, it is one heck of a super read.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

 

CW Hawes is a playwright, award-winning poet, and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

 

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest

The People of Magnolia Bluff

The Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles, Book 3, is on pre-order right now!

The Great Peanut Butter Conspiracy by Cindy Davis goes live on June 20th. You’ll meet Bliss; Tommy, the police chief; Olivia, the pizza shop owner; and a whole lot more folks who make Magnolia Bluff, Texas home. Reserve your copy today! On Amazon!

More Good Folk

Caleb Pirtle III, author of Eulogy in Black and White, the 2nd book in the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles, is running a series on the good (and bad) folk of Magnolia Bluff.

With his kind permission, I reproduce one of his posts. You can see the original on his blog.

Impossible Love:
The Characters of Magnolia Bluff

Harry Thurgood, handsome man with a checkered past, meets Ember Cole, a lovely young Methodist Minister in Magnolia Bluff, and sparks fly.

Who is Harry Thurgood?

He is the dashing man of mystery in Death Wears A Crimson Hat, Book 1 of the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles by CW Hawes.

He owns the Really Good Wood-Fired Coffee Shop.

It’s first-class.

It’s high-class.

It has few customers.

How does it survive?

Where does Harry get his money?

Who is Ember Cole?

She’s the new minister of the Methodist Church.

She’s lovely.

She immediately catches Harry’s eye.

He’s looking for love.

She’s interested.

But she’s afraid of the gossip in town if he finds love with her.

They want each other.

They need each other.

Both are outsiders.

The candle of love flickers between them.

But will Ember ever let it burn?

A Snippet from the Book

Harry Thurgood got out of bed, showered, shaved, dressed in his custom made Tom Jones suit, and quickly descended the stairs to the Really Good Wood-Fired Coffee Shop, which he owned, operated, and lived above.

Harry paused a moment in the doorway and let his eyes roam the coffee shop. He was pleased with what he saw.

“What a contrast to the dump this place was three years ago,” he murmured.

The tables and chairs he’d brought in from T.A. Tandy in Chicago. Henri Vernier of New York had supplied the flooring and lighting. He was especially pleased with the commissioned paintings by California artists Jane Dillon and Lawrence Pruett that hung on the walls.

A smile formed on his lips. This was a coffee shop worthy of any that could be found in New York, Chicago, or San Francisco.

The smell of high-end brewed coffee filled the air…

*

Harry crossed the street to the green, took his phone out of his suit coat pocket, and told it to call “Em.”

After four rings, he heard, “Hello, Harry. I think it best if I say no.”

“Say no to what? I haven’t said anything yet.”

“Good. I don’t want you to say anything I might say yes to.”

“What’s the matter? Did I say or do something you don’t like?”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not you. It’s us.”

“We’re an us?”

“Well, no, we aren’t and I want it to stay that way.”

“I have no idea what’s going on, Em, but maybe we should talk.”

“We are talking.”

“In person.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harry. If people see us, they’ll talk, and right now I don’t need that.”

“Okay. I get it. This has something to do with the Queen of Dirt and her minions, doesn’t it?”

“That’s a good one. Did you make that up?”

“I did. Just now. Look, how about you drive out to some place and I’ll meet you there and then we’ll go to Austin. We can have supper and you can tell me all about it.”

“Not a good idea, Harry.”

“Didn’t I learn in Sunday school that Bible verse, ‘Greater is he that is within you, than he that’s within Mary Lou?’”

Ember burst out laughing.

“Glad I can make you laugh, Em.”

Her laughter subsided. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“So why don’t I meet you in the college parking lot. Will that work? Or do you have a better place?”

“I don’t know why I’m letting you talk me into this.” There was a pause, and then she said, “Yes, I have a better idea. Pick me up at the cemetery.”

“Huh. That’s novel. You don’t think Mary Lou communes with the dead?”

“Being a bloodsucking vampire, she probably does. But she definitely prefers the living.”

“Wow. I think you’re going to have to go to confession.”

“I’m Methodist. I talk directly with God.”

“Hope he’s talking back.”

“Ha, ha. Meet me at the cemetery at eight. And I still don’t know why I’m letting you talk me into this. It really isn’t a good idea.”

“If it isn’t a good idea, then why are you giving in?”

“Because, right now, you’re the only person I trust, and I’d really like to talk to someone who comprehends the definition of the word discretion.”

Hope you enjoyed the guest post. You can get the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles on Amazon.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

 

CW Hawes is a playwright, award-winning poet, and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

 

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest

Odds & Ends

Today’s post is a bit of a salmagundi. A collection of diverse snippets. A smorgasbord of thoughts. Enjoy!

Eulogy in Black and White

If you haven’t already pre-ordered your copy, do so. Eulogy in Black and White by Caleb Pirtle III is a terrific read. Perhaps the best I’ve read so far this year. Get it on Amazon.

Podcast Appearance

Tomorrow, Wednesday, May 18th, at 1pm CT, I’ll be on the BookWorld podcast with authors CJ Peterson and Michael Scott Clifton. We’ll be talking about mysteries. Here’s the link to the Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/bookworldtge/

 And here’s the link to CJ’s YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCoZXLhhlqpThV7dV7uNSlXw/featured

Going Wide

In preparation to my eventual leaving of the Amazon ecosystem, all of my books will be out of Kindle Unlimited by the end of June. Most of them already are.

I’ll be uploading the books to Draft2Digital for distribution to a host of vendors and eventually to the Smashwords store.

The first book I’ve uploaded to D2D is Festival of Death. I’ve done a minor text cleanup, and reformatted the book using Atticus. Here’s the new Books2Read link: https://books2read.com/u/mYaJPm

The Justinia Wright Private Investigator Omnibus is also live at a variety of sites. Here’s the Books2Read link: https://books2read.com/u/mdN55w

The Mind Game

Have you ever visited Great Sand Dunes National Park? If not, you really need to go. It is so very neat.

Here’s a pic from the park’s website:

Back in the 1960s when I was in Junior High, my parents, brother, and I visited the park on our way to Wyoming.

The day was hot, and my parents weren’t feeling well. However, my brother and I were going to climb the highest dune and promptly set off.

Unfortunately, halfway to the top, my parents called us back. They were afraid they wouldn’t be able to rescue us should something happen. Never mind, there were probably at least a hundred other people in our area climbing the dunes. Plenty of people to conduct a rescue, should one be needed.

A few years ago, my brother went back and climbed that highest dune. Good for him.

I probably never will make it back. But I don’t really need to. Because I see myself standing on top of that dune, waving to everyone below. And it feels really good.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!

CW Hawes is a playwright, award-winning poet, and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

 

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest