Meet M. S. Spencer, who has lived and traveled in five of seven continents, but who has spent most of the last 30 years in Washington, D. C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker and parent. She has worked in several library systems and at the Torpedo Factory Art Center in Alexandria, VA. She has published ten romantic suspense/mystery novels. She divides her time between Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
Thank you so much for having me at My Writing
Corner, Rebecca. I’d like to talk about the setting for my new murder mystery
romance, Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory Murders and about how the hero and
heroine meet under less than romantic circumstances.
My latest release takes place in Old Town Alexandria, an
historic cobblestoned city on the Potomac River. It follows the adventures of
several artists at the Torpedo Factory Art Center, a hulking warehouse of a
place on the waterfront.
An old munitions factory, it lay abandoned after World War II until the 1970s, when an intrepid band of biddies got the City of Alexandria to lease it to them for an art center. Today it houses 82 studios, the Art League, the Friends of the Torpedo Factory, and an Archaeology center.
An old munitions factory, it lay abandoned after World War II until the 1970s, when an intrepid band of biddies got the City of Alexandria to lease it to them for an art center. Today it houses 82 studios, the Art League, the Friends of the Torpedo Factory, and an Archaeology center.
Old Town is now a vibrant hub for restaurants and the
arts. Galleries — including the Torpedo Factory—abound. Milo and Tristram meet by
chance in one of the more frequented Irish pubs, O’Connell’s.
Murders,
mistrust, misfits, and miscreants—needlepoint artist Milo Everhart has
her hands full. Can Tristram Brodie prove to her that love conquers all?
It’s just before Christmas, and Milo Everhart has two needlepoint
stockings, a cross-stitch purse, and three canvases to finish for her clients. Waiting
out the rain in a pub, she is captivated by the handsome man next to her, but blocking
the road to romance are two mysterious corpses who turn up in the tower of her
Torpedo Factory Art Center. As if that weren’t
enough, a second crisis erupts—a proposal to gut her
beloved Art Center.
Excerpt
The bartender backed out past the man, who made no move to get out of his
way. Milo frowned. The fellow appeared oblivious to the fact that his position
inconvenienced everyone. At first she had assumed he was waiting out the rain,
but his body language spelled expectant. Every minute or so, he would poke his
head out and look up and down King Street. For lack of anything more exciting
to do, she fell to observing him. The top of his head brushed the doorjamb,
making him about six feet three inches. His bulk didn’t jibe with his height,
though. She guessed him to weigh in at maybe one hundred seventy-five pounds
stripped. He was undeniably her type—lean, trim, tall, clean-shaven—none of
that painted-on, five-o’clock shadow male celebrities sported nowadays. And old enough, for once. Maybe forty? She
could only see his profile at the moment, which revealed thick black hair
curling over his ears, slices of silver gray relieving the dark waves at the
temple, a straight nose, moderately rosy—from drink or the cold?—and a forceful chin. Without warning he
pivoted, and Milo caught the full impact of a deeply masculine face right in
the kisser. Whew. Even with the
Armani suit, definitely not gay.
He tapped the toe of a highly polished Gucci loafer with impatience and
pulled out a pocket watch. By this time, Milo had dropped all pretence and
openly scrutinized the man. He thrust the watch back in his pocket with a scowl
and spun around toward the bar, almost colliding with Tony. He took Milo’s
glass from the startled bartender. “Thanks, just what the doctor ordered.”
Milo lifted a finger in protest. Tony looked at her, and the man followed
his gaze. Eyebrows raised in surprise, he held up the whiskey. “Er, I take it
this isn’t for me?”
She tried to come up with a flip response, but his rich baritone rattled
her.
Tony stepped between them. “Yes, sir, that drink belongs to the lady. May
I get you something?”
The man didn’t answer. He stared at Milo more or less the way she was
staring at him. Flustered, she plopped back down on the narrow bench, barely
avoiding an embarrassing slide to the floor. He continued to stare. She
resisted the impulse to pat her short fawn-colored ringlets, which always
appeared tousled no matter what she did, and blinked. He blinked back.
Finally she blurted out, “Would you care to join me?”
He shook his head as though to clear his mind. “Forgive me—I’ve never
seen such lovely eyes…I mean, eyes that color…I mean…sorry. What would you call
them? Mahogany? Bronze?” His admiring gaze did wonders for Milo’s mood, which
took a decided uptick.
“I just call them brown. But thank you.”
“I’m sorry about purloining your drink. May I buy you a freshener in
restitution?”
“I guess so. Er…did you want to sit down?”
“I’d better not. I’m waiting for someone.”
“Oh.” His plight, though not unexpected, depressed her. Of course Armani
man had a date. He probably always has a
date, even during Lent.
Tony brought another glass. The man paid him, then hesitated as though
reconsidering. “You know, she is
awfully late. Since you’re right in the window seat with a commanding view of
the entrance, may I be allowed to change my mind and sit here until she
arrives?”
Ulp. “Not at all.” Good—got that out without stuttering.
“Thanks.” He pulled a low barrel stool next to the bench and clinked her
glass. “Cheers.”
They sipped their whiskies in companionable silence while the rain
pummeled both the sidewalk and the pedestrians with barely concealed
antagonism.
After a few minutes, Milo decided her heart had settled down sufficiently
to ensure a quaver-free sentence. “I’m Milo Everhart.” And I’m Gorgeous George. You don’t mind if I seduce you, do you? No, wait—he didn’t say that. I did.
Hopefully in my head. “Um, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Tristram Brodie. Pleased to meet you.”
Buy Links:
TWRP: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4420-artful-dodging-the-torpedo-factory-murders.html
Barnes and
Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/artful-dodging-ms-spencer/1113648470?ean=2940158248047
AllRomanceEBooks:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-artfuldodgingthetorpedofactorymurders-2048814-149.html
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/artful-dodging-the-torpedo-factory-murders
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/artful-dodging-the-torpedo-factory-murders-0
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/artful-dodging-the-torpedo-factory-murders-0
Twitter:
www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor
GoodReads:http://www.goodreads.com/msspencerGoogle +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MSSpencerauthor
Linked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor
About.me: http://about.me/msspencerauthor
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/
Thanks, M. S. for being my guest. Questions or comments for M. S.?