Interview with mystery author Jo A. Hiestand

Mystery author Jo A. Hiestand is in the hot seat today helping me kick off a new month and a new week by chatting about Related by Murder.

During her virtual book tour, Jo will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice) gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit her other tour stops and enter there, too!

Welcome, Jo. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.
I grew up reading Dumas, Twain, duMaurier, Dickens and the Brontes. I loved the atmosphere of those books. Add watching the Basil Rathbone-Nigel Bruce movies and the moods of 1940s/50s movies like Brief Encounter, Night Must Fall, and The Thirty-Nine Steps, and I knew I wanted to write mysteries, and the books had to be set in Britain. That was a must even though I knew only what I’d seen in the movies and read in the novels. But the British pull was tenacious. Three years ago I discovered that I have literally centuries and centuries of English, Scottish and Welsh ancestry. Do genes mean anything?

My first visit to England was during my college years and that cemented my joy of Things British. Since then, I’ve been lured back nearly a dozen times, and lived there for a year during my professional folk singing stint.

What do I write? Well, at the moment, I write two British mystery series: the McLaren Mysteries and the Peak District Mysteries. The McLaren novels feature ex-police detective Michael McLaren, who investigates cold case murders on his own. The Peak District books feature a different British custom/tradition that is the backbone of each book’s plot. These are a combo cozy/police procedural, and members of the Derbyshire Constabulary CID Murder team work these cases.

I combined my love of writing, mysteries, music, and board games by co-inventing a mystery-solving treasure-hunting game, P.I.R.A.T.E.S.

I founded the Greater St. Louis Chapter of the international mystery writers/readers organization Sisters in Crime, serving as its first president.

In 2001, I graduated from Webster University with a BA degree in English and departmental honors. I live in the St. Louis, MO area with my cat, Tennyson, and way too many kilts.

Please tell us about your current release.
From the moment ex-police detective Michael McLaren arrives at his friend Melanie’s house in Cumbria, England he’s plunged into a nightmare of a case. Two men, hanged a year apart, each killed on a Good Friday. A barrister. A solicitor. Related careers. Related by murder. Related motives?

Pottery shards, a torn newspaper article, and biscuits are found in each man’s pocket. What do they signify? And the blackmail letters Melanie receives… Are they related to the murders, or are they separate, terrifying in their own way?

Professions, calendar date, McLaren’s attack. Could it all be entwined? Or is the motive for murder something else, something so secret that keeping it is worth attempting a third one?

What inspired you to write this book?
Prior to writing Related by Murder I’d been researching the Staffordshire Knot, a pretzel-looking three-loop knot. There’s a famous tale that it was invented to hang three criminals simultaneously by one rope! Obviously, it’s a myth, but it intrigued me and I came up with the idea of two men hanged from the same tree on the same holiday, though separately. I thought it would be interesting if they were somehow connected, either by murder motive or something in each man’s past or career. So, McLaren investigates the two murders—that’s what the series is based on: him investigating cold cases on his own. Obviously, I can’t use the Staffordshire Knot in anything since I have used the rope idea in Related by Murder, but I’m sure something else will present itself for another book!

 

Excerpt from Related by Murder:
Once at the Abbey ruins, McLaren paused to orient himself. Even in the darkness of the night, he could see the ground-level remains of the church, cloisters, and dormitories spreading out like veins on a hand. Impressive and intimidating in its size now, he could hardly imagine what it must’ve been like in its heyday.

He shook off the fantasy and moved on, getting his bearings and deciding where he should wait. If he should wait, he corrected himself, the feeling that he was about to repeat the absurdity of Gamelands taunting him. But he settled on the steps leading down to the barrel-ceiling structure, partway below the surface of the ground, and waited. As a deserted dwelling place, the Abbey offered a greater possibility at finding medieval relics. Perhaps his fictional treasure hunter would realize that too.

As he had at the stone circle, he sat in the dark. But, unlike his time at the stone circle, the night held no human sound. No owl glided overhead at the Abbey. Instead, the rushing water of the river filled the otherwise stillness. It was surprisingly loud, the water slapping against large rocks and protrusions from the riverbanks. But noises seemed amplified at night, he reminded himself. The absence of traffic, conversations and telly programs allowed fainter sounds to be heard. He wondered if he would hear anyone approach, should they wander onto the Abbey grounds. He moved to the top step, where the stream was less loud, and rested on his side.

Something elongated and streaked with white lay several feet from him and he reached for it. His fingers closed around a feather.

He’d not been expecting that, although birds of course dropped feathers all the time. But this didn’t look like an owl’s, for example. At least not that he could tell without looking at it in the light. And the streaking was unfamiliar to him. With a policeman’s habit, he stuck the feather into his jeans pocket and waited.

Nothing stirred while he sat there. No tree or clump of grass or bird moved. He felt alone, the last human on earth, lingering in a ruined religious house…for what? Just because it was a Monday night didn’t command Scott’s appearance here or anywhere outside Moorton. He flexed his feet and fingers, keeping them from stiffening. If he had any sense, he’d flex his legs on a brisk walk back to his car.

Tiring of keeping obbo, he sat up and leaned against the remnant of a broken-off stone column. How long had he been there? Forty-five minutes, his wristwatch announced. It was time to end this farce.

He didn’t, though. A beam of light near the river changed his plan. He crouched down, hugging the column, and watched.

The torchlight moved up the riverbank, a slow and steady progress that implied the walker was picking his way over rocky ground. The light bobbed several times as the person holding it evidently lost his footing. But it remained focused ahead, toward the main grounds of the Abbey. The progress was now more sure, signifying the rocks and sand had been left behind and the walker was now on firm soil. The light never flicked from side to side, as it would if the person was unsure of the land and was looking for obstacles. Several times the light slid behind a portion of a stone wall or a taller column remainder, but it always appeared again within seconds, still moving straight ahead.

Who the hell would be here at this hour?

Suggestions whispered to him, and McLaren moved quickly to the cemetery section of the Abbey. Hoping to blend with the pile of rocky foundation, he crouched beside a stone coffin. He turned his head, holding his breath, not wanting any sound to give away his location.

When he looked up, the light had vanished.

Thinking the man had walked behind a section of wall, McLaren raised up slightly, trying to locate the prowler. As he did so, something hit him from behind.

He bent forward, bracing himself, but he crumpled when he was hit with what he assumed was a stone. As he tried to get up and defend himself, his attacker hooked his foot around McLaren’s ankle and threw him to the ground. Shaking his head, McLaren pushed himself up. It was then that his shoulder suddenly erupted in pain. He shook his head again, trying to keep the waves of blackness at bay. He staggered forward and tripped over a large stone. His knees slammed into the packed earth, and he rolled onto his side as he grabbed them.

As he looked up, he saw the stone thrower meet up with the person carrying the torch.

Angry beyond words, McLaren struggled to his feet, and dashed after the two men. They were making toward the road and probably their car. The torchlight jerked crazily in reaction to the man’s fast gait, and the pounding of their shoes on the tarmac drowned out the sound of the rushing river.

 

What exciting story are you working on next?
Well, just a few days ago I began plotting the next McLaren book, Haunted Water. McLaren investigates the cold case of a young man drowned in a lake in Cheshire, England. The lake is associated with the myth of a morgen, a Welsh water spirit who drowns men. In the past few days I’ve created my characters (names, ages, occupations) and given them relationships to each other and to the victim. I’ve invented my fictional village and located it near Congleton, Cheshire. It’s a place I actually visited once, so that will help with my description of the area. Now I’m working on motive and whodunit!

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
My first publication was an article about visiting the New Zealand home of Golden Age mystery author Ngaio Marsh. It appeared in Mystery Scene magazine. But I considered that a bit of good luck due to me being the first person to go to the house: it would open a few days later to the public. A year later a publisher offered me a contract for my first mystery novel. That’s when I thought maybe I was “good enough” to be a writer.

Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I write full time and I’m very grateful to be able to do so. I’m usually at the keyboard around 7 a.m., my cup of hot tea beside me. I break for lunch at noon, then back writing until mid afternoon. This is the ideal schedule when I’m well into the first draft of the book or working on the second draft. Ideas and words are usually rushing at me so this time allotment works well. If I’m plotting a new book, I have no routine. It’s piecemeal work: create characters, pause to do housework or cook and think of someone’s occupation and how it fits into the story, jot that down and perhaps something else that nudges another idea, pause to do housework or watch something on TV and think of murder motive, jot that down and go back to housework… It’s very sporadic. As is actually writing the first fifty pages or so. Even though I have the murder figured out—know whodunit and motive and have the characters in my head—the first scene is a bear to write. How much do I tell right away? When do I tell a bit of the backstory of McLaren and why he quit his police job to repair dry stone walls and investigate cold cases? When do I bring in Jamie, his best mate, and what does he do in this story? Do I start the story with dialogue between characters, do I focus on McLaren getting involved right away, do I begin with a small amount of description of the village and the problem? If I’m dealing with beginning the book, I may write a sentence or even a paragraph, then get up and do something else and then return to the computer minutes, hours or even days later. It continues in this write/do something else manner for quite a while. It just depends on where I am in the writing process as to what the day’s like, but I love most of what goes into book creation.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
Hmmm…. Don’t know if it’s interesting, but in the winter I usually wear the same slippers. They’re kind of like boots: they have a fake fur upper part that comes up several inches past my ankle. Very good tor keeping the cold air at bay. In summer, I wear the same sandal-style slippers. A kind of flip flops with blue fabric straps and a thin sole. I own a variety of slippers and shoes but I tend to gravitate to these two. I also lean towards wearing one of two pendant necklaces: either my Celtic infinity knot or my moonstone. I never thought of it until writing it down just now, but I must be mutely calling for spiritual help! Now, if the slipper or necklace choices confirm something weird about me, I don’t want to know!

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I’ll add young adult to the age specification because it was difficult to settle on one thing. The problem was that I have three great interests: writing/books, music and photography. May as well add baking too, because I baked most weekends. Anyway, these interests are why I began seriously writing later than many writers do. I have a tremendous passion for music (which plays a small part in the McLaren books): I wanted to be a professional folk singer (I lived in England for a year, pursuing that dream) or a professional concert musician (playing the harpsichord). In fact, I was being groomed as a concert pianist through my high school years. When I gave that up to play the harpsichord, I was playing Beethoven concertos. Then I did the folksinging jaunt. After that petered out, I thought about photography, either portrait or nature. I turned that into a hobby and briefly considered owning a tearoom (a la Nancy Drew books!) or baking and selling cheesecakes. I finally settled on writing, though that didn’t come about until my early thirties. I guess it all turned out okay. At least, I use a lot of my experiences in my books.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Just that I’m glad they’ve stuck with me through this interview and hope they will read a McLaren book. Most people think he’s an interesting guy!

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Thanks for being here today, Jo.

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