Sheila M. Trask

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The Romantic poets provide a rich source of material for Lynn Shepherd’s latest historical mystery, A Fatal Likeness. This is the second outing for Charles Maddox, the discerning detective first introduced as the likely heir to his uncle’s legendary “thief-taking” legacy in Shepherd’s Dickensian mystery The Solitary House. Steeped in well-researched literary lore, A Fatal Likeness proposes an alternative history for Frankenstein author Mary Shelley, her volatile husband and renowned poet Percy Bysshe Shelley and their cohorts. Her multilayered story examines dark turns of mind and mysterious deaths that may be explained by the missing papers Maddox is charged with finding.

Although Maddox tackles the case in 1850, much of A Fatal Likeness takes us back in time to 1816, to the tumultuous summer that brought the Shelleys and Lord Byron together in a writers’ retreat filled with intrigue, infidelities and the ghost stories that gave life to Frankenstein. Shepherd also expands upon the untold story of Claire Clairmont, Mary’s stepsister, going back and forth between the naïve girl entranced by a world of poetry and the practical, self-protective woman Claire has become.

The third-person omniscient narration is at turns engaging and confounding as the past blends with the present. It’s an appropriate confusion, as much of Shepherd’s story hinges on the parallels between then and now. Many characters are mirror images of each other, and their entanglements feed the intrigue, although some complicated relationships will make more sense to Shelley scholars than the average reader.

Shepherd provides an intricate family tree and thorough explanatory notes to help readers discern which parts of the Shelley story are fact and which are fiction. Obviously knowledgeable about the history, Shepherd uses gaps in the record as a jumping-off point for her fiction, while still respecting the writers’ real-life stories. Lovers of literary mysteries and historical fiction will appreciate the balanced approach Shepherd takes in A Fatal Likeness.

The Romantic poets provide a rich source of material for Lynn Shepherd’s latest historical mystery, A Fatal Likeness. This is the second outing for Charles Maddox, the discerning detective first introduced as the likely heir to his uncle’s legendary “thief-taking” legacy in Shepherd’s Dickensian mystery The Solitary House. Steeped in well-researched literary lore, A Fatal […]
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A strong, sexy, modern woman is at the helm of Barbara Rogan’s smart new mystery series that kicks off with A Dangerous Fiction. Rogan introduces Jo Donovan, a talented literary agent trying to put her life back together after the death of her larger-than-life husband, esteemed author Hugo Donovan. There’s challenge enough for the grieving widow in running a successful New York literary agency, but Jo faces much more. When a would-be client becomes obsessed with Jo and begins infiltrating her life on a very personal level, she has to figure out the story behind the stalking.

A literary agent turns detective to catch a stalker.

Rogan’s experience as a novelist shows in the way she seamlessly combines a fast-paced mystery with witty literary references, a strong sense of place and an intriguing romance (or two). A New Yorker and a former literary agent herself, Rogan seems equally at ease with casual banter around the slush pile at the agency and the formal show put on at expensive lunches with clients. Readers will feel at ease, too, as though they are part of the literary world’s inner circle.

Adding to the sense of camaraderie is the first-person narration by Jo herself. We’re in her head a lot of the time, and when the stalker’s efforts escalate to include Jo's clients, staff and closest friends, it feels personal. Even though Rogan separates us from the violence a bit by describing the acts after they’ve been committed, the way each blow hits Jo is palpable. She’s shocked by the awful things happening around her but helpless to stop them.

Or is she? As the book progresses, the reader slowly comes to realize that Jo's perspective might be a little skewed. Are there things that her grief has kept her from remembering or understanding? As we come to doubt our narrator, we also have reason to suspect almost every character in the novel, and a great deal of the fun comes from trying to guess who the real culprit is. Is it the handsome detective who appears from Jo’s past? Or maybe the aggressive agent vying for Jo’s position at the agency? It’s not easy to predict, although the clues are there, and Rogan spins out the suspense even after the case seems to be closed.

There’s always another side to the story, and Jo Donovan has to do some deep digging to reveal it. A thoroughly entertaining and engaging mystery, A Dangerous Fiction is not the last we’ll see of Jo Donovan, as Rogan is currently at work on the sequel.

A strong, sexy, modern woman is at the helm of Barbara Rogan’s smart new mystery series that kicks off with A Dangerous Fiction. Rogan introduces Jo Donovan, a talented literary agent trying to put her life back together after the death of her larger-than-life husband, esteemed author Hugo Donovan. There’s challenge enough for the grieving […]
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What would moody, modern private investigator Claire DeWitt say to the plucky girl detectives of the past, like Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew? Not much, if Sara Gran’s second Claire DeWitt mystery is any indication. Claire has little patience for perky. She just wants to solve her case and doesn’t need to be nice. So sometimes, she’s not. With Claire DeWitt and the Bohemian Highway, novelist Sara Gran returns to the brilliant and twisted mind of her sarcastic sleuth as she stalks the streets of San Francisco on a murder case with personal meaning. Paul Casablancas, an old flame Claire never quite got over, has been murdered. Claire needs to know who did it and why.

A masochistic drug addict with a readiness to raid any medicine cabinet, Claire is an unlikely hero. And yet, she’s astonishingly thorough in gathering evidence. No clue is too small for Claire, and you’d better give her the details. What did you have for breakfast the morning of the murder? Cereal. What kind? Lucky Charms. Claire duly notes this on the back of an envelope, or in the stacks of paper scraps taking over her apartment. Her unconventional detective work, based on the writings of fictional detective Jacques Silette, relies on following every hunch. This method leads Claire on a fascinating journey as she consults Buddhist lamas, comic book collectors and punk rock musicians in her quest for answers.

Gran keeps Claire on the move both in her present-day murder case and in flashbacks to a parallel story of a missing friend in 1980s Brooklyn. The combination adds richness to Claire’s character by showing us her early days as a detective. It also keeps the tension high, as there are two mysteries to solve at once. As we get to know young Claire, her tough façade begins to fade, and we see the vulnerable girl who first fell in love with Paul. We feel for her as she draws closer to the dramatic final moments of the guitarist’s tumultuous life.

Claire DeWitt and the Bohemian Highway is not a cozy, teatime mystery, but a gritty, realistic look at grief and the search for truth. Sara Gran has created an unforgettable character that readers will surely follow into her next adventure.

What would moody, modern private investigator Claire DeWitt say to the plucky girl detectives of the past, like Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew? Not much, if Sara Gran’s second Claire DeWitt mystery is any indication. Claire has little patience for perky. She just wants to solve her case and doesn’t need to be nice. So […]
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In her debut novel, Karen Keskinen builds an engaging mystery around her characters, the eccentric residents of Santa Barbara, California, who deal with the murder of a young girl in their city in very idiosyncratic ways. The first-person narrative brings the coastal community to life through the eyes of private investigator Jaymie Zarlin, finder of missing persons and champion of the misunderstood. As the story opens, Jaymie’s been hired to look into a murder committed in the waning hours of a traditional solstice celebration. Jaymie suspects just about everyone except the accused, Danny Armenta, a mentally ill young man found catatonic at the scene of the brutal crime.

A multi-dimensional psychological mystery focusing on the humanity of all involved.

In a refreshing departure from doggedly procedural crime stories, Keskinen doesn’t focus on weapons and timelines as much as personality and motivation. Jaymie’s investigation proceeds as she, along with readers, gets to know everyone from Danny’s poverty-stricken, plucky Aunt Gabi to the sharp-tongued oil heiress, Miss Delaney. Seemingly effortless, natural dialogue quickly reveals characters’ personalities without giving away their guilt or innocence.

Blood Orange is a multi-dimensional psychological mystery, focusing on the humanity of all involved. For instance, Keskinen gives Jaymie a fascinating backstory and an exciting, if complicated, love life. Readers will be intrigued by her reluctance to commit to devoted suitor Mike Dawson, the handsome deputy sheriff Jaymie clearly adores even if she won’t admit it. And they’ll definitely want to know more about Jaymie’s commitment to her lost brother Brodie, whose troubling story eerily mirrors that of Danny Armenta.

Keskinen makes sure readers care about her characters, and readers will enjoy collecting clues from the extensive cast and rooting for Jaymie to tie them all together. This she quite satisfyingly does, although it’s clearly not the end of the road for this private investigator, as Keskinen leaves plenty of room for further adventures.

In her debut novel, Karen Keskinen builds an engaging mystery around her characters, the eccentric residents of Santa Barbara, California, who deal with the murder of a young girl in their city in very idiosyncratic ways. The first-person narrative brings the coastal community to life through the eyes of private investigator Jaymie Zarlin, finder of […]
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Elanor Dymott’s debut novel skillfully combines the visceral thrill of a murder mystery with the psychological portrait of a grieving man. In Every Contact Leaves a Trace, Dymott sets young English lawyer Alex Petersen on a quest to solve the brutal murder of his wife Rachel, who was struck down on Midsummer Night at their alma mater, Worcester College, Oxford. To track down Rachel’s killer, Alex must face his own sorrow, and also some unsettling revelations about the wife he thought he knew so well.

Dymott plays a measured game of hide-and-seek with the facts of the case, doling them out at a stately pace that matches the tradition-steeped setting. Disclosures from Rachel’s reticent English Literature tutor, Harry Gardner, tantalize and torture an increasingly perplexed and anxious Alex. Did his beloved wife really have a secret past, or is Harry keeping some secrets of his own? Dymott repeatedly brings Alex—and the reader—right up to the edge of an answer, before turning back in time and considering other perspectives. This sense of the ground moving beneath your feet mirrors Alex’s internal confusion as he tries to understand the enigma that was Rachel Cardanine.

Comparisons to Donna Tartt’s The Secret History seem inevitable, as Dymott similarly reveals the debauchery that can exist behind even the most revered collegiate traditions. Fireside tutorials, afternoon teas and costumed balls create a falsely comforting front for what’s really going on behind the rose garden walls: experimentation with sensual pleasure and pain that blurs the boundaries between good and evil. Rachel and her confederates are impressive poetry scholars in their tutor’s presence, but seem not to be above blackmail—or worse—when his back is turned.

How exactly did Rachel reconcile those boundaries? Is her murder simply proof to the contrary? As Alex gradually fills in the missing pieces of the puzzle, readers come to see this mysterious young woman’s life, and death, in a surprising new light.

Elanor Dymott’s debut novel skillfully combines the visceral thrill of a murder mystery with the psychological portrait of a grieving man. In Every Contact Leaves a Trace, Dymott sets young English lawyer Alex Petersen on a quest to solve the brutal murder of his wife Rachel, who was struck down on Midsummer Night at their […]
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As a surgeon, Kelly Parsons has faced many dramatic life-and-death decisions. Probably none as chilling, however, as what chief resident Steve Mitchell must face in Parsons’ suspenseful debut novel, Doing Harm.

When Steve, the brilliant, young rising star of the surgical suite, becomes a pawn in a sociopathic killer’s master plan, he must make the unthinkable decision: save himself or save his patients.

Parsons gives Steve an engagingly flawed personality. He’s a whiz kid in medicine, but he's also prone to rash decisions and poor judgment. He’s a devoted husband and father of two but nonetheless spends days away from home: He sleeps, eats and works at the hospital around the clock. It’s this multidimensional treatment of Steve—and the rest of the cast—that keeps readers guessing. Nobody is perfect, but nobody seems truly capable of plotting to kill patients in their beds either. 

Someone is, though, and they are somewhere in the halls of Boston’s University Hospital. Parsons lets us in on the nitty-gritty, behind-the-scenes hospital culture that patients rarely see. Casual operating room banter during routine procedures contrasts with highly charged emergency surgery, which Parsons makes real with authentic medical terminology that supports, rather than overpowers, the emotional impact of each scene.

Readers ride this rollercoaster of life-and-death moments along with Steve Mitchell, waiting to see what he will do to stop the killer in their midst. What would you do?

As a doctor writing about doctors, how much of your fiction do you draw from real life?

I’ve been in the medical field for over 20 years now, and much of what I’ve experienced informs specific elements of the book. The descriptions of the diseases, surgeries and complications are about as real I could make them. I also wove some of the internal politics of large, traditional teaching hospitals into the story.

Was there a particular incident that sparked the idea for Doing Harm?

No. But a central focus of Doing Harm is patient safety, a topic I’ve been interested in for many years.

"Not a day goes by without at least one of my patients teaching me something profound about illness and the human condition."

You reveal an emotionally detached, ruthlessly achievement-oriented side of medical training in Doing Harm that isn’t that far off from the psychopathic killer’s mindset. Was the parallel intentional?

A very interesting question! Yes. That’s exactly the dilemma with which the protagonist, Steve, grapples. It’s part of his moral journey. Learning how to be a doctor can be tough. Trainees must often walk a thin line between emotionally detached arrogance and the self confidence necessary to do their jobs well.   

Steve Mitchell is a flawed character—he’s brilliant yet arrogant, talented but inexperienced, and not above covering his tracks to save his own skin. Why should readers like him? Should they trust him?

Readers shouldn’t necessarily trust Steve. They certainly don’t have to like him. But what I hope they do, on some level, is relate to his dilemma. I want readers to understand why he makes the choices he makes, however flawed those choices may be. The story is essentially about Steve’s moral journey. With some help along the way, Steve finishes the book a much different individual than when he began it.

Is Doing Harm intended purely as entertainment, or is it also a commentary on modern medicine?

I mostly conceived Doing Harm as entertainment. I want readers to enjoy the ride. But while the specific circumstances of the story are pure fiction, patient safety is an important issue facing modern medicine. Bad things happen to patients every day that have nothing to do with being sick. I think the medical community has made substantial progress in recognizing and fixing these problems, but we still have a long way to go.   

How did your medical school experience prepare you for writing your first novel?

For me, medical school fostered two traits essential to writing: persistence and discipline.

Do you read medical thrillers yourself?

Not regularly. Although there are many fine medical thrillers, my tastes are very eclectic. I enjoy all types of genres and divide my time among them: contemporary fiction, literary fiction, thrillers, science fiction, fantasy and nonfiction.  

Are there any patients who have particularly touched you in your medical practice?

Not a day goes by without at least one of my patients teaching me something profound about illness and the human condition. 

What do patients do that drives you crazy?

Oftentimes, I’m frustrated not with my patients but with my inability to spend as much time with them as I would like. It’s an increasingly common complaint among doctors these days: being asked to see more patients in shorter periods of time. 

With two careers and a family, you must not have a lot of free time. What do you like to do when you do get a moment?

I love spending time with my family and friends, watching movies, exercising, and—of course—reading.

As a surgeon, Kelly Parsons has faced many dramatic life-and-death decisions. Probably none as chilling, however, as what chief resident Steve Mitchell must face in Parsons’ suspenseful debut novel, Doing Harm.

When Steve, the brilliant, young rising star of the surgical suite, becomes a pawn in a sociopathic killer’s master plan, he must make the unthinkable decision: save himself or save his patients.

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Mary Kubica’s debut, The Good Girl, is a constant game of cat and mouse. In this tense psychological thriller, Mia Dennett’s abduction poses questions about relationships, their boundaries and their limits.

The Good Girl offers an unusual perspective on Stockholm syndrome. Do you believe there are situations when a captor can actually be a protector—and vice versa?
Yes, I absolutely do. I feel that in certain situations where the victim and perpetrator must rely on each other for survival, their roles can evolve from a hierarchical system into a relationship based on mutual understanding—and a knowledge of the fact that their very existence may depend on the other. That dependence on one another could certainly allow a captor to take on the role of protector, or the victim to take on a more assertive role in the relationship.

Mia’s mother plays a major role in the kidnapping investigation. How did your own fears as a mother play into this story?
I sympathize with Eve Dennett on every level. For a mother, having your child vanish into thin air is utterly incomprehensible. I tried hard to explore the emotions I may have felt had it been my child who disappeared, considering everything from fear to sadness to anger. But Eve has more to deal with than just a missing child. She’s also trying to make amends for poor decisions she’s made in the past and suffers from grief, regret and longing all at the same time. This too I can sympathize with; as a mother, it’s easy to make spur-of-the-moment decisions we later regret. Raising children is no easy task, a fact which I’ve tried to make evident in the case of Eve.

Shifting before-and-after perspectives keep readers guessing throughout The Good Girl. What did you find to be the greatest challenge in crafting such a puzzling thriller?
I’d have to say that the greatest challenge came in the editing process. Because of the various twists and turns and the overlapping storylines, every aspect of The Good Girl is tightly connected. As any one detail—no matter how trivial—changed, it unraveled a seemingly endless number of threads, so that I would need to reread the manuscript again and again—and yet again—to make sure I had revised all other mentions of the change—a challenging task, and yet one I enjoyed!

You seem equally at home setting your story in busy Chicago streets or quiet Minnesota woods. Are you a city girl or a country girl?
This is a great question! By and large I’m a city girl. I like a little noise and the close proximity of neighbors; I like the luxuries of city life and knowing there is a grocery store and a coffee shop nearby. That said, I also love the beauty and serenity of the country; I’m always up for a walk through the woods or exploring the countryside—though I have a strong aversion to bugs. Would I like to be trapped inside a rural, rustic cabin for months on end? No, thank you. But a long weekend in the country . . . that’s much more my style, as long as I can get back to the city as soon as the weekend is through.

 

This article was originally published in the August 2014 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Mary Kubica’s debut, The Good Girl, is a constant game of cat and mouse. In this tense psychological thriller, Mia Dennett’s abduction poses questions about relationships, their boundaries and their limits.
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Writing a gripping mystery is a lot like performing a masterful magic trick—knowing when to grab the audience’s attention, when to provide distractions and how to wrap it all up with a dazzling finale.

British mystery master Elly Griffiths enters the world of illusionists with The Zig Zag Girl, the first in a new series that has us looking behind the curtain in a whole new way.

 
Playbill

One of Griffiths' grandfather's playbills: Dennis Lawes "on laughter service."

Tell us a little about the World War II Magic Gang that inspired this new series—including your own family connection.
My granddad, Frederick Goodwin (stage name Dennis Lawes), was a music hall comedian, modestly famous between the wars. Granddad was often on the bill with a well-known magician called Jasper Maskelyne. During the Second World War, Maskelyne was a part of a group called the Magic Gang, recruited for their skills in camouflage and stage magic. The Magic Gang were based in North Africa where they created dummy tanks, ghostly platoons and a fake battleship called HMS Houdin. I’ve adapted some of these escapades for the Magic Men in The Zig Zag Girl.

The Magic Men are flamboyant showmen, very different from what fans might expect from the creator of Ruth Galloway, forensic archaeologist. What drew you to these characters?
I was passionate about acting at school and university and would have loved to pursue it as a career. But I was drawn to the world of music hall by my grandfather and—more specifically—by the playbills that he left me in his will. These bills are a treasure trove of long-forgotten acts: Lavanda’s Feats with the Feet, Lou Lenny and her Unrideable Mule, Raydini the Gay Deceiver. I knew that one day I would have to write about them.

How was it different to write about 1950s Brighton than the Norfolk marshes featured in your Ruth Galloway series?
I’ve lived in Brighton since I was 5, so in some ways it was a lot easier. If I needed to research a location I’d just pop out and have a look. But in other ways it was more difficult. I think there is something to be said for writing about somewhere slightly alien to you. I spent a lot of time in Norfolk as a child, but it still seems huge and slightly frightening. I almost know Brighton too well, and it’s a safe and happy place for me. However, the 1950s setting helped make it seem more mysterious.

Some of the murders here are pretty gruesome, yet the book doesn’t have a dark tone. Do you consider it important to focus on the optimism of your investigators rather than the depravity of the villain?
The Zig Zag Girl definitely contains my more gruesome murders to date! However, I don’t like writing—or reading—about gratuitous violence. I haven’t described any of the crimes in too much detail, and I have tried to lighten things up with a bit of humor here and there. For me, it’s important to focus on the characters and not on the mechanics of murder.

Is the charismatic Max Mephisto based on a particular magician?
His career is based on Jasper Maskelyne’s. However, I think Max also owes a bit to my father and grandfather—both handsome, urbane, charming men. My grandfather had three wives—all dancers—and was still a debonair man-about-town in his 80s.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of The Zig Zag Girl

 

This article was originally published in the September 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

British mystery master Elly Griffiths enters the world of illusionists with The Zig Zag Girl, the first in a new series that has us looking behind the curtain in a whole new way.

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