The Story Behind the Story with Author Chuck Bowie of Fredericton, NB, Canada.

 

Good news! Chuck is back with a new book!

 

He’s been a popular guest on the Scribbler many times and it pleases us to have him return.

If you missed the previous visit, please go HERE.

I’m a fan of his stories and I’m sure you will be too.

Read on, my friends.

 

 

Chuck is both a writer and an author, with fourteen books/novels published and one just underway. Chuck has recently settled into exclusively writing mysteries: Suspense-Thrillers and Cozy Mysteries. All of his books are well-reviewed, and he has sat on the boards of the Writers’ Federation of NB, The Writers’ Union of Canada, is a Fellow of the Kingsbrae International Residency for the Arts, as well as being acknowledged as a member of the Miramichi Literary Trail.

His thriller series chronicles the adventures of Donovan, an international thief for hire, while his cozy series (written as Alexa Bowie) follows the adventures of the owner of an arts and culture centre as Emma solves the crimes that swirl around her centre: The Old Manse.

Chuck lives in Fredericton as well as beside Miramichi Bay. Thriller number Six, Lost in London is now available, with Number Seven underway.

 

Title: Death Between the Cays, an Old Manse Mystery

 

Synopsis: 

The Problem, the Secret, the Decision.

Emma’s friend Thom delivers a luxury cruiser from Canada to the Bahamas, whereupon he promptly disappears. His employer hires Emma to go to the Caribbean to find him. Thom, however, left his girlfriend Sophie behind in the midst of a Christmas tiff, so…has he been abducted, or has he merely cut off communication with everyone?

During the voyage south a secret emergers: the boat may be used for an illegal, very profitable purpose. Now Thom knows this secret, but is subsequently kidnapped for his troubles. Thom has this information, but cannot share it. Meanwhile, Emma must risk her life, navigating the beautiful but dangerous Caribbean waters in search of her missing friend. Will she find him? Will she fall prey to the dark side of the sandy beaches, blue sky, and waters?

 

The Story Behind the Story: 

I’ve written a story—a series, really—about a small town and the wonderful, eccentric people who inhabit the tight-knit community. With the unfolding of each plotline, we come to know our heroine, Emma, but also get to know (and love) the characters that bring the town to life.

So, when a beloved character leaves town and disappears, everyone is naturally worried about him and want to help. Emma must leave her home at the most inconvenient time of the year: Christmas, but as the British say, ‘Needs must.’ I do add a separate narrative arc set in the town: it is an Old Manse Mystery, right?

 

Please go HERE.

Chuck is also present on FaceBook/Insta, as well as on Threads.

Scribbler: Who was your favourite author, or story, growing up?

Chuck: As an introvert, I read many, many books growing up. I took to series, early on, starting with L. Frank Baum (Wizard of Oz) and Trixie Beldon, and then on to Rex Stout and JR Tolkien. More recently, I’ve fallen in love with the Edinburgh mystery writer Kate Atkinson. Her writing is brilliant, convoluted, hilarious (at times) yet quite dark. She’s the best.

An Excerpt from Death Between the Cays:

 

* * *

“I’ve got a surprise.” Bobby’s face carried a smirk. “Back at the boat.”

          “I was hoping it would be food, but those two men loitering outside of your boat are painting a different picture. They are staring at us as if we are expected. Bobby, are they expecting us?”

          “Absolutely. Remember how I tried to tell you about our project, and how it will make us rich? These guys are gonna explain it in such a way that no one could refuse, or want to. We’ll have a sit-down in a minute, so prepare to get excited. Please give them a chance to wow you, okay?”

          Thom was about to say ‘I already told you I’m out,’ but they had already reached the boat. The men shook hands without taking off their sunglasses, and Bobby was halfway up the gangplank before Thom could even say hello.

          The three men followed Bobby onto the boat, and they sat on the bench seats in front of the transom. The first thing out of anyone’s mouth came from the stockier of the two strangers. He spoke with a French accent, and he had that weathered face borne of many years under the tropical sun. The man directed his words to Bobby. “You told him about moving some product?”

          Thom stood up. “No, Bobby told me nothing, and that’s because I am going home on the first flight I can catch. I can’t help you gentlemen out, since something has come up and I can’t stay. Please don’t say anything, so we can easily forget we ever met.”

          The stocky man with the French accent looked over to his partner. The partner’s eyes were locked on to Bobby’s (Thom presumed this was taking place, since the sunglasses had not dropped). And Bobby stared goggle-eyed at Thom, silently begging him to change his words.

          Thom did not change his words.

          Both men remained inscrutable. Bobby’s level of discomfiture rose with every heartbeat. Thom stood, waiting. What else could he do? He knew that this little bit of knowledge they shared might already be dangerous, and the next moment might very well rest in Bobby’s hands. Eventually—Thom realized he had been holding his breath—Bobby spoke.

          “Look, guys,” his voice was in sell mode, persuasive and low, “Tommy here is just along for the ride, you know, one last trip on the boat he loves. He says he’s not interested in making a few bucks. He’s got girl trouble, and that’s all he can think of.”

          Thom felt himself nodding, desperately willing his face to look as placid and not quite as knowledgeable as a two-year-old heifer.

          “Look. Tommy and me, we’ll head over to Moore’s Island and I’ll join you guys tomorrow, okay?”

          The stocky man spoke in a lighter tone, easing the pressure. “That works.  Listen Bobby, we have to go now, but before we do, can we have a word? In private?”

          Thom was quick to nod. “I’ll just head back to the beach. Can’t get enough of that, right?” He turned and left before anyone else had a chance to say a word. I’ll just go see if Edward is gone. I never did get his phone number. By the time he got back to the shoreline, though, both Edward and his boat and motor had vacated the beach. He spied an outbound ferry rounding the end of the long wharf, a boat attached by a rope. Ah. There he goes. I hope I’ll see him before I return home.

          Thom sat on a patch of sand to ponder his possible dilemma. If I go back to the boat (where my passport is sitting in a bag with my possessions), those two gangsters just might kill me on the spot. And since my so-called new friend Bobby is in thick with them, I now have to re-think my relationship with him. Do I cut and run with just my wallet, or do I take them at their word and part ways after Bobby and I have dinner this evening? He wouldn’t hurt me, would he? And it’s not as if those two guys in sunglasses are coming over with us.

          With that being said, though, what do you suppose they want transported? In the olden days, it would have been rum-running, using boats like that gaff-rig schooner, The Bluenose. Nowadays they’d use a cruiser like mine (well, she was mine) to haul maybe drugs, or cash for laundering, or worse. What’s worse than drugs? Either way, the less I know about it, the better. He stared up in the general direction of the sun, squinting. He was sweating, and it may have been the sun, but the issue might also be found a mere hundred yards away. It was time to get back to the boat and begin the hundred-and-forty mile trip over to Moore’s Island, check into the resort and book a flight home. The shine had definitely worn off his tropical vacation and it was time to leave.

Buy the book HERE.

To catch up on Donavan's latest caper, please go HERE.

 

  

Thank you Chuck for being our guest once more. We wish you continued success with your writing. 

And a BIG thank you to all our visitors and readers.

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