Thriller author Austin S. Camacho is chatting with me today about his new Hannibal Jones Mystery, Subtle Felonies.
During his book tour, Austin will be giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for your chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit his other tour stops and enter there, too.
Bio:
Austin S. Camacho is the author of eight novels about Washington DC-based private eye Hannibal Jones, five in the Stark and O’Brien international adventure-thriller series, and the detective novel, Beyond Blue. His short stories have been featured in several anthologies and he is featured in the Edgar nominated African American Mystery Writers: A Historical and Thematic Study by Frankie Y. Bailey. He is a past president of the Maryland Writers Association, past Vice President of the Virginia Writers Club, and one of the directors of the Creatures, Crimes & Creativity literary conference – now in its 10th year. The 8th Hannibal Jones mystery, Subtle Felonies, released in September.
Please tell us about your current release.
In Subtle Felonies, retired basketball star Xander Brown is missing. Or is he kidnapped? His crazy family and dangerous friends draw DC detective Hannibal Jones into a deadly chase to find – or rescue – this complex man. In public, Xander is a husband, father, partner, and friend, but who is he in private? Which of those roles took him away? The search moves at breakneck speed across the posh suburbs and angry alleys of the nation’s capital, forcing Hannibal to confront tough truths and deadly risks. Will DC’s troubleshooter save a life or lose his own?
What inspired you to write this book?
I wondered how it changes these sports stars when they go from rags to riches after signing a multi-million dollar contract. AND, how might it change the people around them?
Excerpt from Subtle Felonies:
Here’s the opening of the book:
“Wow.”
Hannibal actually said it aloud. He stepped out of the black Mercedes-Maybach sedan in front of a house that filled his view. He had to swivel his head left to right a full 180 degrees to see the entire building. Then he looked back inside to make eye contact with the driver.
“Yeah,” the driver said with a grin, nodding his understanding. Hannibal closed the door and felt the car ease away behind him. His clientele had included some wealthy men, but he had never been called to an actual mansion before. He knew a lot of people who thought anyone who owned a house like this couldn’t have real problems.
Hannibal knew that when you reached this level, the only kind of problems you had were gigantic.
The wooden double doors in the center of the stone monolith beckoned him. Local wild birds tried to warn him off, but he moved up the five steps to the entrance, his mind slipping back through the morning that brought him here.
His office phone rang at exactly nine o’clock that Monday morning, the start of his office hours. She introduced herself as Charlotte Brown, wife of Alexander Brown, as if she expected him to recognize the names. Her voice was South Baltimore, smoothed a little by Northern Virginia. She had a big problem that called for discretion. A previous client, Ben Blair, had referred her to him. Blair was a tech millionaire who had hired Hannibal to find a man who had stolen from his maid. A good man, and Hannibal would take any client referred by him.
Hannibal agreed to meet with her but when he asked for an address, she said she would send a car to pick him up. He preferred to drive but she was adamant, so he agreed and in less than half an hour he was riding to McLean, not a town but just an area of Northern Virginia, home to diplomats, Congressmen, and other high ranking government types. And the CIA.
Hannibal soon understood why it was easier for his new client to send a driver than give directions. After a couple of turns off the beltway they had hooked into a hidden entrance onto a one lane road he would have probably missed more than once. The long, winding private road led them to the tall iron gate that protected the mansion he was about to enter.
As he reached for the doorknob the door swung inward. A trim blonde woman in a black double-breasted dress with white collar and cuffs waved him inside.
“You must be Mr. Jones,” she said in an accent-free voice. “Mrs. Brown will see you in the sitting room.”
She turned and led him across dark hardwood floors, past white pillars beside tall arches, past a winding wooden staircase, and around a round glass-topped table that seemed to serve no purpose except to be in the way, maybe to stop anyone from running down the hall. She deposited him at the entrance to a hexagonal room scented by big white lilies that stood proudly, maybe arrogantly, on the mantle of a fireplace at the bottom of a stone column that rose, it seemed, to the clouds. In this house even the flowers looked down on him.
Panning left from the fireplace his eyes slid over a grand piano, three tall multi-pane windows, an overstuffed sofa covered with enough pillows to leave no space to sit, a framed painting whose pastoral scene fell short of the actual view through the windows, and two chairs that matched the sofa. Instead of pillows, one chair held a woman. Her skin was polished ebony. Light brown eyes flashed above high, Nubian cheekbones. Hannibal hated the fact that he was surprised. She wore a white, form-fitting sweater dress and a warm but formal smile. She waited for Hannibal’s gaze to reach her before she stood and extended a hand.
“Charlotte Brown. Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Jones. Please, have a seat.”
Hannibal accepted the handshake, turned to the empty chair and tentatively lifted one of the three pillows.
“Oh, throw those on the floor,” Charlotte said.
Hannibal carefully placed two of the pillows beside the chair and perched on the edge of the cushion. “On the phone you said you had a problem I could help you with. Why don’t you tell me what that is?”
Charlotte took a deep breath while examining Hannibal. Her eyes scanned him top to bottom. He felt the way he did in the airport when they put him in the chamber and told him to raise his arms overhead. Was she staring into his eyes, or wondering about his dark glasses? Were his black suit and white shirt inappropriate for the season?
What exciting project are you working on next?
Starting a series about a Black female professional assassin named Skye. She has appeared in a couple of short stories, and I have 2 novels looking for a good home.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I self-published my first novel through a print-on-demand company. I didn’t call myself a writer until someone bought a copy of my first book (1999.)
Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your workday like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I am retired from my day job as a public affairs specialist, so I guess I’m a full-time writer now. But I also am part owner of a small press and am one of the leads running the Creatures, Crimes & Creativity literary conference. Between them they fill my day but I make sure I write for more than an hour every day no matter what. It’s usually the beginning of my day, right after breakfast. Most readers don’t realize that “writing” includes submitting, critiquing for the critique group I belong to, marketing, setting up events and, well, writing stuff like this for blogs.
What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
When I’m actually writing I always have music on, usually classic rock or R&B.
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I had no idea. My mother wanted me to be a doctor, so I always went with that. But I did really poorly in science classes and excelled in English classes so I guess we should have known.
Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
I am inordinately proud of the mysteries I create. I always play fair, all the clues are there, but no one has ever told me they guessed the ending before I revealed it. If you figure out who the real villain in Subtle Felonies is before I tell you, please let me know.
Links:
Website | Facebook | Amazon | Books2Read
Thank you so much for featuring this author on your blog today.
Good morning and thank you for hosting me today! I enjoyed the interview and would love for visitors to tell me how important the cover is to their decision to purchase a mystery novel.
If you choose any time and place in history to live for a day, where and would it be, and why?
This might sound weird, but I’d like to spend one day in Los Angeles in the 1940s, so I could absorb the real feel, the true essence of the world Raymond Chandler and his peers were writing about. I want to feel the atmosphere that gave birth to the hard boiled detectives I loved and try to emulate.
I enjoyed the post. Sounds really good.
The book sounds wonderful.
Interesting interview and excerpt!! I enjoyed reading both!!
This looks like an intense novel. Thanks for hosting this giveaway.