Introducing Jane Risdon
Where did the idea for the story come from?
I’ve been writing short stories for many years, and I’ve written approximately 100 to date. Many have appeared in various anthologies. It occurred to me that I should create my own collection of short stories under one cover.
Give a quote from the books, one that says little but speaks volumes.
Gripping yarns with more twists and turns than Spaghetti Junction
Give a short summary of what the book is about.
.There are 6 short stories and a taster from my latest novel – a series called Ms. Birdsong Investigates. My stories cover many methods and reasons for murder.
For example: Sweet Sable, The Red Siren, was inspired by my husband’s Great Aunt, movie, and stage actress. Elizabeth Risdon, who appeared in over 140 movies before she died in the 1950s. I researched her life for my Family History project that I’m writing and, although the story isn’t about Hollywood movies or an actress, my research helped me get a handle on Hollywood in 1939, when the first story is set. Other stories such as Murder by Christmas, have been inspired by the deaths of various wealthy individuals, and readings of their wills. What lengths would people go to in order to benefit from a bequest which required ‘certain tasks,’ to be performed? Another story highlights the dangers of joining a Facebook Group; it can be deadly.
What genre is it?
How many pages is it?
Why do you think the readers will want to read it?
Sometimes there isn’t time to read a full novel and short stories can be read when time is tight; on a bus, train, aeroplane, during a lunch-break, waiting outside a station or school, before going to bed – reading shorts can fit in with you. Complete stories for the busy reader.
Where are you located?
England, Great Britain
Undercover: Crime Shorts is a wonderfully satisfying anthology of seven short stories which transcend above the crime fiction genre providing a gripping yarn irrespective of the reader’s preference. A cleverly stitched together mix of tales to suit all fans of the genre.
Sweet Sable, The Red Siren…
Closing the safe door quietly and with an expert spin of the dial, the black clad woman straightened up, slinging the grip with her haul over her shoulder. She stood listening intently before moving towards the office door. Again, she waited, her ears straining, before gently prizing the door open and stepping silently into the corridor of darkened offices; she eased the door closed, calculating she had barely two minutes before the night-watchman made his rounds, trying the doors and checking the building was secure.
The woman headed for the fire escape where she’d made her entrance to the three-storey building some ten minutes earlier. Gently raising the window, she climbed out on to the metal staircase with the athletic grace of a ballet dancer, giving the dark alley below a quick once-over to ensure no-one was around, she hastily made her way down the rusting stairs. Her tar-toned unremarkable and unmemorable automobile was parked across the street, hidden in the gloom of another narrow alleyway. Glancing at her wrist-watch — an expensive pay-off from a married lover — she knew she’d better step on the gas. She’d less than fifteen minutes to get back to the night-club, park her car at the darkest end of the outside lot, and leg it back to her dressing-room with enough time to change into her gown for her last set of the evening.
The red head chuckled to herself as she repaired her lipstick, pouting seductively at herself in the mirror, waiting for the stagehand to knock on her door with her final call. She was buzzing. She’d done it again; she’d pulled it off. It was better than any sex she’d ever had, and that was saying something. She chuckled, puckered her ample lips, and blew herself a huge wet kiss.