A Cavendish Brown Mystery
Ron D. Voigts
Genre: Paranormal Mystery
Publisher: Champagne Book Group
Date of Publication: March 2, 2015
Number of pages: 219
Word Count: 72K
Cover Artist: Ellie Smith
Investigative reporter and recent widower, Cavendish Brown, is unemployed and floundering. Coerced into returning to his childhood home by the town's eccentric matriarch, Cavendish finds himself involved in murder, deceit, and a not-so-subtle attempt at matchmaking.
Joined by Jane, a disturbed psychic, and Alexandra, a young Goth woman with uncanny abilities, they follow leads into the hills of West Virginia to catch the killer. A sheriff who shoots first and asks questions later makes solving the case difficult for the trio. Adding further complications is an ex-girlfriend with a mob hitman on her trail who seeks Cavendish’s help.
Immersed in a never-ending spiral of clues and secrets, he must unlock the darkness that surrounds the enigmatic Jane, stay ahead of the law, and come to terms with his own grief.
I stood on the spot with the shovel we had found earlier, staring at the ground where Jane told me to dig. My heart pounded in my chest, and I considered whether this was a good idea. “If a body is here, it might have been buried a hundred years ago. People do die and are buried. It could be sacrilegious to uproot somebody. There are laws about doing things like that.”
Alex sat on the chopping block. She took a long draw on her cigarette, exhaled the smoke and watched it linger in the still air. “I’m sure whoever it is won’t mind.”
How stupid would it sound to tell anyone I was out in the woods with a chain smoking Goth girl and a psychic who could divine the past by touch, digging up a body? If one was buried here, it may lead to a story. The headlines would read “Editor, Goth Girl and Psychic Dig Up Civil War Hero.”
I took a deep breath and scooped out the first shovel of dirt, paused and peered in the hole. No body. I dug and tossed a few more spades full. Nothing. I scooped out more earth, still finding nothing. My pace became less ginger. Dig. Toss. Dig Toss. Dig. Thud!
Whatever I hit seemed solid. I worked the shovel more carefully, taking smaller bites of dirt. Something pale contrasted against the dark earth. Using the tip of the shovel, I moved aside more ground until I exposed something long and slender. I’d seen skeletons pictured on anatomy charts at the doctor’s office and more than a few body parts while in Afghanistan, doing a stint in the Army, but I was no expert on bones. “I found a tibia or maybe a femur.”
Alex tossed her cigarette, ran over to the hole and stared into it. She knelt down and brushed back dirt with her hand. “It’s a root.”
She grabbed it, and what looked like a bone bent as she tugged on it. I knelt next to her and examined it closer. It sure looked like a root.
Jane, who had been poking a stick at something in the grass, came over and pointed to a spot about two feet over. “Dig here. Not there.”
I repositioned myself and began digging again, wondering how many more roots I would dig up that looked like bones.
The air grew heavy, and my clothing damp as I dug. The sounds of the forest became distant, and all I heard was the shovel striking the ground and my heart beating. The last time I’d worked up a sweat digging a hole was boot camp at Fort Jackson. I didn’t like it then, and my current sentiments were the same. I tossed a shovel full of dirt and spotted something.
Rather than shout for Alex and discover I had found another root, I took it and rubbed the soil away. Definitely this had to be a bone. Picking through the dirt, I found more bones, like from a chicken.
Alex came over and looked down into the hole. “Phalanges or metacarpals.”
Surprised she’d know the correct names, I stared at her. “Really?”
“I took an anatomy class in college.”
I stepped back and let Alex pick around in the hole. She found more small bones and sorted them on the ground until they began to form the arrangement of a hand. “I’d say a body is buried there.”
Alex took the shovel and removed dirt from the excavation. She took her time and paused occasionally to peer into the hole. Where I was a bulldozer plowing through the soil, she worked more like a seasoned archeologist on a dig.
As a reporter on the Gazette, I often teetered on the fine line separating legal from criminal. My informants were druggies, boosters and mechanics. I’d done interviews at crack houses, brothels and chop shops. When I came to Maiden Falls, I figured those days were behind me. Things here would be safe, mundane and predictable. Yet, here I was, digging up a dead body.
Alex found more small bones and placed them with the first ones. “Hey, we keep this up we’ll have a complete Mr. Bones in no time.”
A chill passed through me. This was a Frankenstein movie, and we were the grave robbers. We’d take the body parts to the mad scientist and get a bag of coins. Things could not be creepier, and I really didn’t want to see a dead body, even if the flesh had already gone to the worms.
We took turns digging, and I worked more cautiously. Alex did the detailed stuff like cleaning the dirt off the bones and arranging them with the others. She named them as she found them. Humerus. Ulna. Clavicle.
“Were you pre-med at college?”
Jane sat in the grass nearby and watched. She seemed indifferent about the body we unearthed, and I speculated what conditions had molded such a strange being.
“Look here.” I pulled back a tattered shirt and pointed to a broken rib. “Looks like someone shot him.”
Alex looked closer. “Maybe.”
“Do you have a better explanation?”
The trauma of seeing exposed human bones no longer seemed as threatening. I stood back and let Alex continue the exhumation. I feared the moment when we’d get to the head. A grinning skull with hollow eyes gave me a chill.
Did you always wanted to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?
Being a writer was my first dream.
When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?
Getting a literary agent did it. It was validation that someone who didn’t know me liked thought I wrote well enough to get published.
How long did it take to get your first book published?
My first book was Penelope and The Birthday Curse, a middle grade mystery. I started writing it in 2000, but it wasn’t until 2005 that I found a literary agent. After five plus years, I withdrew the book and self-published it in 2011. That’s a long time from start to finish.
What is the name of your latest book, and if you had to summarize it in less than 20 words what would you say?
The Witch’s Daughter. A down-and-out reporter, mentally disturbed psychic and Goth woman with uncanny abilities follow leads to catch the killer.
Who is your publisher? Or do you self-publish?
I’ve self-published and also had some books out from Night Wings Publishing. My latest book, The Witch’s Daughter is produced by Champagne Books located in High River, AB Canada. They are a small independent press with a large selection of books. They opened their cyber door in April of 2005 and publish authors from all over the globe.
How long does it usually take you to write a book, from the original idea to finishing writing it?
It varies a lot, but on average about 12 months. I start slow as ideas come to me and mull over the book’s details. Later, especially after the first draft, the pace quickens. Near the end I’m working quickly, rereading and rewriting the story. I go over it many times until something in my head says stop. You are there.
What can we expect from you in the future? ie More books of the same genre? Books of a different genre?
I like Paranormal Mysteries. Currently I’m work on the second book to The Witch’s Daughter. This one will be called The Fortune Teller’s Secret. Cavendish Brown, the psychic and Goth woman are together again, searching for a killer at a Carnival that comes to town.
What genre would you place your books into?
Definitely mysteries. I would place my latest books into the realm of paranormal mystery. I mentioned The Witch’s Daughter earlier in the interview. My previous book, Strigoi, The Blood Bond, has a vampire for the prime suspect, but did he kill Jonathan Hubble? Alex Regal must solve the mystery, or he himself becomes the vampire’s next meal.
Do you have a certain routine you have for writing? ie You listen to music, sit in a certain chair?
With my laptop, I work from a comfortable chair, sometimes the couch where I can spread out materials. Background sound seems to help me and I play music or sometimes have the TV on, though I keep the programming light. Sometimes I burn incense or light a scented candle. The goal is to keep all my senses active while I write.
Do you read all the reviews of your book/books?
I do. I am truly appreciative of anyone who takes the time to write and leave a review.
Do you choose a title first, or write the book then choose the title?
The title comes to me while writing. The Witch’s Daughter came about mid-way through writing the book when I saw the big picture. During the edits with my editor from Champagne Books, we had had discussions about possible changing it, but nothing else fit. You have to read the book and you’ll understand.
How do you come up with characters names and place names in your books?
Sometimes the character’s name comes first thing and never changes, like Cavendish Brown. I just thought it sounded catchy. Other names like Jane and Alex in the The Witch’s Daughter changed. I can’t remember now what Jane was called at first. I think Alex was Cassie, but as the book progressed, they got rechristened to new names.
I actually use real places but change the names or small details. Cavendish Brown’s apartment is based on a place I once lived. In the book, they visit Bunnie’s Tavern and there is a real one somewhere. Working from real life makes it so much easier to visualize the place and I hope that comes through in my work.
Which format of book do you prefer, eBook, hardback, or paperback?
I like physical books and have a collection of autographed books. As a side note, I have a signed copy of Interview With The Vampire by Anne Rice and Harry Potter and Sorcerer’s Stone by. J. K. Rowling. Alas, books take up room. Except for my collection, I end up giving away the books or donating them. That’s why I like ebooks. I have my entire library on my Kindle, at my fingertips.
Do you think books transfer to movies well? Which is you favorite/worst book to movie transfer?
Most books don’t translate well to movies. The depth and complexities of the book usually get lost. One that comes to mind is Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. I enjoyed both the movie and the book, but the plots were nothing alike.
Your favorite food is?
My problem is too many favorites. If I had to pick one item, it would be pizza. Ironically I didn’t like pizza as a child. If I am allowed to select a genre of food (does food come in genres?) it would be Chinese buffet.
Your favorite singer/group is?
I like Steampunk. A favorite group is Steam Powered Giraffe. An album by Paul Shapera that I enjoy is The Dolls of New Albion: a Steampunk Opera.
Originally from the Midwest, Ron D. Voigts calls North Carolina where he and wife have a home just off the Neuse River. Ron’s writes dark mysteries with a supernatural flair, but his reading in more eclectic tending towards whatever catches his interest. When not writing and reading, he enjoys watching gritty movies, playing games on the PC, and cooking gourmet meals.