Criminal Element's Tomlinson Reviews FLAMINGO ROAD

Review: Flamingo Road 

      by Sasscer Hill

KATHERINE TOMLINSON

Flamingo Road by Sasscer Hill is the 1st book in the Fia McKee Mystery series (available April 18, 2017).

Sasscer Hill likes horses, and not in a “My Little Pony” kind of way. A horsewoman and horse breeder, it’s in her blood. As she explains on her blog:

I started galloping about the family farm on a stick horse when I was four years old. By the time, I was seven or eight, I was sneaking rides on the Belgian plow horses. I did this because my father didn't like horses and considered ponies dangerous. So instead, I drummed my heels on the sides of a 2,000-pound draft mare, while grasping whatever string or rope I managed to tie to her halter.

Her debut mystery series featured a young female jockey named Nikki Latrelle, and the books were atmospheric tales that brought the racing world to life more authentically than anyone had since Dick Francis died. (On her blog, Sasscer pays tribute to Dick Francis as her favorite author.)

The protagonist in Flamingo Road, the 1st in the Fia McKee series, is a cop whose solitary beat in the crime-ridden streets of Baltimore could not be further from the sunlit racetrack at Florida’s Gulf Stream Park if it was located on the moon. And yet, by saving the life of a terrified woman named Shyra Darnell, who works at Pimlico Race Track as a “hot walker,” Fia is thrown into a mystery that connects her past to her present in a most unexpected way.

Despite being under investigation by Internal Affairs, Fia can’t help but pick at the mystery surrounding Shyra and wonder what (or who) she is so afraid of. 

Then, a call from her estranged brother summons her to Florida, bringing her into contact with horse-butchering lunatics, cutting-edge performance-enhancing drugs, handsome animal activists, and Cuban gangs. Suddenly, things get very personal when her already troubled niece loses her beloved gelding Cody.

What was this? Kids on a joyride? Stealing tack or Patrick’s tools and equipment? Whatever it was, it wasn’t right.

I sped down the drive, my rubber shoes silent. The cart had headed to the right on the far side of the stable, and it looked like the fastest way to catch up would be to run straight down the center aisle and out the other side. Plunging into the murk of the barn, I smelled a horrible, familiar odor before skidding in what had to be blood. I wound up on my hands and knees, staring at a dark lump on the floor.

God, no. “You sons of bitches!” I yelled. I staggered up, skirted the slick, sticky pool and ran out the back. In the distance, I heard a couple of thumps. A truck engine started, but no lights came on. The sound of a motor rapidly faded into the distance.

Feeling helpless and sickened, I searched for a light switch and found it. Okay, Fia, get a grip. I flipped the switch.

Blood was everywhere. Cody’s black tail like a paintbrush dipped in blood looked. I fought a wave of nausea. They had butchered him in his own barn, removing the large cuts of meat. I wanted to kill them. I grabbed my phone and called 911.

Fia, whose horse-trainer father was murdered in a case as cold as Maryland in winter, knows this horsey world very well. And thanks to Hill, who teaches classes on how to craft settings that “saturate a story with mood, meaning, and thematic connotations,” we are immersed in that world as well. (Maybe a little too well as we learn the particulars of the trade in horse meat.)

“Your horse,” Zanin said, “was butchered by Cuban Americans who live in the C-Nine Basin. By now, they’ve delivered his meat to a specialty butcher shop in Miami.”

Patrick shook his head as if denying the whole thing. “That’s disgusting. It doesn’t make sense. There can’t be enough money to outweigh the risk.”

“I’m betting the horse was young,” Zanin said. “Maybe a little fat?”

Recalling Jilly’s conversation at dinner, I said, “Cody was only three.” An image struck me. Cody plump and happy in the paddock with Jilly that afternoon. “Oh, God. He was fat. Is that why they killed him?”

“Yeah,” Zanin said. “They like ’em young and well-marbled. Brings the highest price, like beef.”

I dropped my head into my hands. It was impossible to shut out the images. Glancing at him, I said, “Who are these people? And what’s the C-Nine Basin?”

“It’s the Wild West of Florida. Straddles the western edge of Broward and Miami-Dade counties, along one side of the Everglades. Mostly men live there, Cubans and Haitians and almost everything they do is outside the law—cockfights, horse slaughter, dogfights.”

“But Patrick’s right,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense. Horse slaughter is legal in so many places now.”

Zanin gazed at me intently. “Think about it.”

I cringed as it hit me. “It doesn’t matter if it’s legal because if those animals are old and tough…”

Zanin nodded. “They bring less money. The men in the C-Nine, they’re renegades, squatters, really rough people. These guys build shacks and pilfer from electric lines. They don’t care about right and wrong, especially when money in the form of prime meat is available just down the road. Believe me, the police are afraid to go in there.”

Turns out, there’s a really good reason the cops are scared to go into the C-Nine, and before the story gallops to a conclusion (sorry), readers will be scared too. And they’ll know a lot more about the racing world than they did before they opened the book.

Click here to find FLAMINGO ROAD!

Katherine Tomlinson is a former reporter who prefers making things up. She was editor of Astonishing Adventures Magazine and the publisher of Dark Valentine Magazine.

TRAVELING THE WRITER'S ROAD

When I was seventeen, I found this quote that touched my soul.

“We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started. And know the place for the first time.” – T. S. Eliot- 1955

Eliot’s words nail my experience with life’s adventures, none so much as my journey as a writer. 

THE FIRST NOVEL
Back in the nineties, I wanted to write a novel, and though I could write, I knew nothing about being an author or writing a mystery novel. To learn, I read several books on writing and took mystery courses at a writer's school in Maryland.

I was told that before I wrote a novel about a jockey named Nikki Latrelle, I should write her back story. The idea was to find out who Nikki was, and what made her tick before I began writing her into the novel, FULL MORTALITY. Hard work, but it paid off. FULL MORTALITY was picked up by a small press and received Agatha and a Macavity best first novel nominations.

I wrote two more Nikki Latrelle books, but unfortunately, the small press provided little marketing and didn't stock the books in libraries and book stores. I was forced to abandon Nikki. 

Click here to find the Nikki books 


THE BIG CONTRACT
I wanted a publishing contract with one of New York's big five publishers. My agent said I had to write a new series. So I did. My new heroine, Fia McKee, landed me a two book deal with St. Martins, a thrilling and heady moment, for sure.

But the huge gap between the last Nikki Latrelle, published in 2013, and the not-available-until 2017, FLAMINGO ROAD worried me. I’d planned to start a third in the Fia McKee series, but realized if the first two books in this new series don’t succeed, St. Martins could drop me like a hot potato.

FLAMINGO ROAD, Coming April, 2017

I knew that some publishers are asking their authors to write novellas and short stories to remain in the public eye during intervals between full length novels. I decided to self publish another Nikki Latrelle. And so, after the long journey of writing five books, I returned to my notes about Nikki Latrelle’s early years. 

BACK TO THE BEGINNING Like the Eliot quote, I came back to where I’d started and knew the place for the first time.

This tale of Nikki’s early years was poignant and loaded with reader satisfaction.  Imagine a fatherless thirteen-year-old girl whose mother dies suddenly, leaving her in the hands of a lewd, malevolent stepfather. 

The fact that she does survive and succeeds should make a good story, so I wrote the Nikki Latrelle novella, RACING FROM EVIL. The novella has sold well and been a good stopgap.  





Click here to find RACING FROM EVIL

I was still torn, for in my heart I believe the St. Martins/Fia McKee series will succeed. After all, the unpublished series won the Carrie McCray (South Carolina Writers Association) Award for Best First Chapter of a Novel, and received a nomination for a Claymore Award.

A CALIFORNIA NOVEL
I wanted the next Fia McKee to take place at Santa Anita Park in California, and even took a trip out to the track, touring it and the Hollywood area nearby. I wanted a murder mystery set at this well-known track surrounded by the glitz and deceit of Hollywood. 

Me and Ziconic

Checking out the lady's room in the "High Roller" section of Santa Anita Racetrack

But again that fear niggled at me. What if the first two novels don’t succeed? What good will this idea be then? If I want to sell to another big five publisher, any book I write, has to be something new, which means yet another series and a new set of characters.

A TRAVELERS NOVEL
Since I can’t afford not to hedge my bets, I started a new book–a murder mystery about the American Irish Travelers. By happy coincidence, the largest enclave of these people is Murphy Village, not more than forty minutes from my home in South Carolina.

Travelers have a fascinating culture. The children are taken out of school by eighth grade, if not before, and the girls are married by contract and usually as young teens. Travelers stick to themselves and have little dealings with outsiders. Society believes the Travelers are scam and con artists. Truth be told, these families do take to the road in the summer doing odd jobs out of state, sometimes scamming or even robbing people. 

Travelers who haven't pulled in the cash live like this.

What would it be like for a girl who grows up in this atmosphere? What if she wants out? Where would she go? What would happen to her?

And so, another book starts. My research included a plan to drive to Murphy Village, and shoot video and photos of the huge McMansions these people build and the religious statues I had read stood in every yard. But friends in Aiken were aghast.

"You're going to drive into Murphy Village? Don't to that! They'll surround your car, ask what business you have in their village. They'll run you out!"  

Travelers with the cash build houses like this.
Notice the old single-wide trailer still in the yard?

But mystery authors will not be denied, and I went up there, anyway. I got the images I wanted. Amazing to see these huge homes without any landscaping in the same yard with single wide trailers, trailers that could still hit the road if necessary. I didn't have any trouble with the natives, and the next morning, I found out why. Imagine my shock to see this headline.

                                                   

Of course, no one had both bothered me. These people were in enough trouble already. Probably didn't want any more. 

Below, are pictures of the evolving village. As the travelers make more money, they build more huge houses and even begin landscaping. But those with less money continue to live in their double-wides.

The orange sign is a subject to forfeiture notice from the feds.
  Apparently the home belongs to one of the 32 people indicted. 

And so for me, another story evolves, and another exploration begins. Only time will tell which way I travel, but at least I’ll be as prepared as possible for whatever happens next.

Pondering the road we travel with Lee Child at Bouchercon