by MarktheAuthor | Jan 9, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Aidan’s Castle Dreams I parked the Tacoma near the entrance to Aidan’s property and edged along the piney woods twenty feet from the main pathway. This time around, I planned to get the drop on him before he prepared a story. A carpet of pine needles muffled my...
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 7, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Meet the Jenkins A wooden sign carved with bold red letters greeted me at the entrance to Jenkins’ farm, promising lethal action against trespassers. I ignored its threat with the arrogant optimism of a nineteen-thirties gumshoe. The driveway twisted in serpentine...
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 5, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Arrested Development The Eureka Police Station was all sunshine and Santa Claus out front. At nearly half past 9 in the morning, the outer walls glowed with the intensity of the Mall of America at Christmas. Daylight gave the paint an extra dazzle, and the windows...
by MarktheAuthor | Jan 2, 2026 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Cooley Ride “Tacoma? Interesting choice,” Derek told me once we got rolling. His quilted overshirt smelled of rancid cigarette butts from an ancient ashtray. “Rides pretty nice.” He patted the seat back near my shoulder. I wondered if bringing him along would be...
by MarktheAuthor | Dec 31, 2025 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
First Lead I drove through the dull-colored streets back to Lorna’s, hoping for directions to the Jenkins’ place. I also wanted to gauge the reaction of the Peale women when I tossed out Aidan’s accusation that they’d hidden Kayla with the couple. The two of them were...
by MarktheAuthor | Dec 26, 2025 | Fiction, Novels, Private Investigator, Process, Serialized, Writing
Junkyard Peale The walls of the room felt too close together. I unzipped my small duffel, planning to store the bits and pieces of clothing I’d brought along in the tiny bureau drawers. Thoughts of Aidan Peale’s potential menace raced around like barn mice in my...
